by Jade Kerrion
Beside him, the other mermaid gasped, and lyrical melodies filled the cave as she spoke to the merman, who turned his unseeing eyes in Ashe’s direction.
Ashe turned. Her eyes locked on Varun, then she waved her hand. The wall of air vanished.
Varun closed the distance instantly and wrapped his arms around her. Relief and gratitude that she was all right almost made him say something else, but he knew Ashe would not accept it. Instead, wry humor saved him from silence. That megalodon is not quite a Bruce.
What is a Bruce?
You really need to watch Finding Nemo. But thank you.
Ashe nodded, her long hair brushing past his face. Her grip was tight on his back as she rested her cheek against his. It took a while to gather enough air to create a wall that would keep that shark out.
Megalodon, he corrected her.
Whatever.
Where did it go?
I don’t know. After all the effort I made to drive it away, I didn’t feel like asking where it was headed.
You didn’t kill it, did you?
She pulled away from Varun to look into his eyes. I barely scratched it. She glanced past his shoulder, and he turned to follow her gaze. Are they all right?
Varun looked over the wide-eyed mermaid, and the blind merman. Yes, they are.
Let’s get back to the Veritas. Ashe’s tail shimmered into legs as she darted toward the surface.
The silver-haired mermaid’s jaw dropped, and as Varun swam away, he saw something that might have been recognition flashed through her eyes.
But there was no time left to ask why.
Chapter 22
“Do you think she’s the one?” Varun asked Duggae once he was safely onboard the Veritas and comfortably ensconced in his laboratory. He sat at the table, rubbing his fingers along a tiny dent on its metal surface.
“Which one is that?” the gnome asked as he absentmindedly picked lint off the bed he had made from Varun’s lab coats.
“The one who will activate all five elemental realms?”
“Ashe?” Duggae scowled. “I hope not.”
Varun blinked, startled by Duggae’s immediate vehemence. “Why not? You should have seen Ashe. What she did with that megalodon…” Varun’s mind still reeled from the enormity of her air and water elemental powers combined.
“I’ll tell you why not. Because she’s done. She’s practically at the end of her service as a Daughter of Air. She’s packing it up, ready to go. She’s almost literally counting down the days. Why imbue all that power into someone who won’t actually use it?”
Varun shrugged. “Presumably, she’ll use it to defeat the Arbiter and save the Earth, right?”
“And then what?”
“And then…why isn’t that enough?”
“Because others will have to die to give her their power. Four other lives—rolled into one—and she says, ‘See ya, I have my soul now, and I saved my precious son. I’m off.’”
Somehow, Duggae’s exaggerated country boy accent did not quite work with the narrow-eyed, laser-focused image Varun had built up of Ashe. He would never again think of air elementals as flighty, scatter-brained beings, or of water elementals as relaxed and languid.
When she chose, Ashe was a terrifying force of nature.
Varun shook his head. “She won’t do that.”
“Ashe is done.” The quietness of Duggae’s tone was more shattering than a shout. “She is compelled by guilt, not driven by passion. Whatever joy she might have taken in her alignment with air and water is gone. When was the last time you saw her swim for the sheer pleasure of it? Or dance on air in pure delight?” Duggae shook his head. “Never. She’s done. She’s ready to move on, and she will, as soon as she believes she can do nothing more for her son.”
Varun gritted his teeth. That tightness in his chest—it could not possibly be anything that meant something. “You’re wrong,” he told Duggae. “She’s still in love with the air and the water. The way she raises her face to the wind and closes her eyes, as if she’s listening to a song only she can hear. The way she extends her hand to a rising wave, as if caressing it. The only other thing she holds with as much reverence and care is her son’s pendant, the one she always wears against her heart, whatever form she’s in.”
Duggae snorted, but the furrow between his eyes deepened. He sat up straight on the lab coats and extended his stumpy legs in front of him. He kicked the toes of his red boots together in a clicking sound that set Varun’s teeth on edge. “So, let’s say you’re right. Let’s say she gives a damn beyond her precious boy. What makes you think she’s the one to unleash the Sphere of Elements?”
“Well, she already has two of the five, right?”
“So that’s all it is? Math? Marginally improved odds?”
Varun spread his hands. “As opposed to what…?”
“Perfect fit. Absolute alignment.” Duggae shook his head. “Becoming an elemental isn’t like changing clothes, or adding another layer of paint. Ashe is a Daughter of Air. She is, literally, an air sylph, who also happens to be a water elemental. The only reason she’s even able to do this is because she was once Beltiamatu. Living in the ocean used to be her thing. She actually understands how water works. To think that she would somehow be as adept with earth and fire is absurd. She has no basis for understanding any of it.” The gnome scowled. “Not to mention all that power…in one person. It’s just not done. That’s how gods are created, and look at how much trouble we’re having with this Arbiter.”
“But if that’s the only way to stop the Arbiter and save the Earth—”
“How can it possibly be the only way?” Duggae demanded, but even Varun heard the undercurrent of doubt in his voice.
“She’s the one. I know it.” Varun pushed to his feet and strode to the door.
“Well, just remember that ‘The One’ can kick your ass, so mind your manners,” Duggae called out helpfully.
“I’m working on it,” Varun threw back over his shoulder. His path took him past the mess hall, quiet in the wee hours of dawn, and Ondine’s room. The door was closed. He paused to listen but heard no sounds from within either. She had demanded her meals be delivered to her cabin. The cook was usually not quick to oblige such requests, but the crew did not want Ondine dining with them anyway.
Women were bad luck on a ship. Everyone knew that.
And Ondine had been more difficult than most.
Nevertheless, guilt nagged at him like a thin layer of nausea in his stomach. He should apologize—but for what? For being less than perfectly sympathetic toward her suspicions? She had practically accused him of cheating on her.
He hadn’t.
The muscle in his cheek twitched.
Well, not really.
Varun drew a deep breath and continued past Ondine’s cabin door. He glanced through the glass windows of the bridge. Jackson was there, with Mengfei, the navigator. Ashe was probably where she almost always was—on the deck.
But she wasn’t.
The deck was empty. Varun walked toward where Jinn perched on the rail. “How is your wing?”
The parrot stretched out both wings. “It’s fine, dumbass.”
“Where’s Ashe?” he asked.
He could have sworn Jinn’s beady eyes narrowed. The parrot squawked, “None of your business, dumbass.”
Varun grimaced. He walked around the deck and even checked under the covers of the life rafts, but did not find Ashe’s clothes. Presumably she hadn’t gone swimming or assumed her ethereal form. So where was she?
A faint sound rippled in the wind, almost like laughter. Frowning, he followed the sound and looked over the edge of the boat.
The water splashed. He blinked against the spray, and then all he saw was Ashe, sitting on top of the waves as if they were as solid and comfortable as cushions. A half smile tugged up at the corner of her mouth. You chased them away.
“Who?” he asked as she straightened. A helpful gust of air carrie
d her up to the ship and set her on the deck.
She held out her hand, and Jinn flew over to settle on her shoulder. “The Oceanids. They’re gossipy little creatures, and much more fun than the Nereids who tend to take things too seriously.”
“What did they say?”
“That the Nereids are hard at work trying to clean things up.”
“Any luck?”
Her smile faded. “Not really. The areas tainted by poisoned Beltiamatu blood aren’t spreading, but they’re not healing either. The Nereids have tried digging out the black sand, but the pollution goes too deep. They can’t get to the bottom of it, and even if they could, where would they put the sand they’ve dug up? The ocean has been the world’s trash can for eons now. Where else would the trash go?”
Varun’s mind raced. “We use fire. When the Dirga Tiamatu blasted through Shulim, it incinerated all those infected Beltiamatu, destroying them, including their blood. Have the Nereids gather up what blood they can, and we’ll incinerate it.” He paced the deck, his quickening steps keeping pace with his thoughts. “In fact, I know who to call. There’s a special vessel used for seabed research. It has a huge suction that’s used specifically for sand. I think their holding containers can be retrofitted to contain the polluted sand, then it’s just a matter of getting it to an incinerator.” He dragged his fingers through his hair as he turned to face Ashe. “It’s not as easy as it sounds, of course. There’s lots of logistics, and a hell of a lot of fast talking. Lots of difficult questions to avoid, but it can be done.”
She stared at him. “And you’ll do this?”
“This is my problem, too, Ashe. My solutions aren’t going to involve air and water magic, and it will require lots of favors and back-breaking work, but this is my world. Our world.” Their eyes met. “It’s our problem, Ashe. We figured out the issue together. We’ll solve it together.”
Her blue-green eyes narrowed, and her lips turned into the hint of a skeptical frown.
She didn’t believe him—not that it was a surprise—but it was really beginning to bother him that she attributed the worst possible intent to anything he said—or didn’t say.
He bit down the snap of his anger. “Unless stopping the Arbiter magically turns back the clock on the damage that has already happened, we’ll have to clean up the mess anyway.” He shrugged. “Might as well get started. It’s my planet. My problem.”
Her weight shifted. The bite of the wind eased slightly as she turned to look out over the ocean. Her face in profile, she looked like a normal human except that, to him, she could never look ordinary, ever again.
Varun ground his teeth against his thumping heartbeat and the tightening in his groin. A muscle in his cheek twitched.
Ashe wasn’t human.
She technically wasn’t even corporeal.
Whatever it was his body thought it wanted from her, Ashe wanted no part of it.
Varun drew a deep breath. He had to get a grip on himself.
His fascination with Ashe was strictly scientific.
He stared at her, watching nuanced expressions flick across her face. He could make a good guess as to what she felt based on the obnoxiousness of the wind dancing around her, or the irritated undertone in Jinn’s voice. But he didn’t always know what she was thinking.
Ashe still wore a faint half-frown, but her abstracted expression told him she was thinking of something else. She toyed with the black scale pendant around her throat.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Zamir still doesn’t have a soul yet,” she murmured.
His heart skipped a beat. “That’s right…”
“But why not?” Ashe asked. “He’s freed the Arbiter and polluted the oceans, to the point where it can’t recover on its own. His task is done, isn’t it? So why hasn’t he received a soul?”
“I…don’t know.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “It doesn’t make sense. We’re missing something.”
But what?
Chapter 23
The days passed swiftly. The Veritas darted through calm seas. Strong winds, always conveniently headed in the same direction as the ship, propelled the research vessel along. The crew relaxed, as much from Ondine’s sulky refusal to leave her cabin as from the improving weather. Laughter was once again commonplace in the crew mess hall as the ship passed into the warmer water of the Indian Ocean and turned toward Indonesia.
On the fourth day, the islands came into view. From the bow of the Veritas, Ashe frowned out at the tiny, inconsequential peak of Anak Krakatoa. Translated literally, it meant “Child of Krakatoa.” The volcanic island grew daily, the edges of cooling magma as jagged as the teeth of purgatory. It was as welcoming as hell.
Varun came up beside her, his presence emanating familiar warmth. He also set her on edge in a way no other human—not even Ondine, as annoying as she was—did. Why was that? Ashe couldn’t figure it out. What was it about Varun that made her instantly wary and far more likely to snap at him?
Probably because he was a pushy bastard. Always nagging. Always trying to go where humans didn’t belong.
That explained the tension in her shoulders.
But not the tangle in her stomach.
The wind whipped through her hair, tugging the blue-green strands away from her face. She flicked him a quick glance. He was always serious around her, rarely smiling, except when he cracked his ridiculous jokes—usually at the most absurd, irreverent moment possible. He was not like that with the crew. The laughter of the crew in the mess hall often drifted up to her, and she usually heard Varun’s ringing tones among them. More often than not, he was responsible for the laughter. His easy good humor made him a favorite among the crew, and Ashe personally suspected it was just the way he was. He loved his work, loved talking about it, and loved hearing about what others did.
He was full of questions all the time, and not just toward her.
Asking questions was what he did best.
But at that moment, he was silent. Like her, Varun stared at the unwelcoming peak of the Anak Krakatoa. He drew a deep breath. His shoulders shuddered ever so slightly. “I’ll go get my gear.” He turned away and crossed the deck toward his already packed backpack. He stepped past it, however, and went toward the crew quarters.
“Sea anchor’s down, captain,” Jackson reported as he strode toward Ashe. “How long do we plan on hanging out here?”
Jinn fluttered his wings as Ashe flicked her fingers in a reply. “As long as it takes. Is the speedboat ready to depart?”
“Yes, captain. Who’s going?”
“Varun and I.”
“No one else?” Jackson’s eyebrows drew together.
“The last time you came along, you were attacked by a spear-wielding warrior on a panther.”
The first mate chuckled, but the sound was without humor. “You expecting more of that?”
“Anak Krakatoa is supposed to be uninhabited.”
“And you believe it?”
“Do you?”
Jackson ran his fingers over his cropped hair. “Not sure what to believe anymore, captain.” He followed her gaze out over the ocean. “Seen lots of strange things recently. Can’t explain any of them.” He grimaced. “I think it’s her.”
“Her?”
“Ondine.”
“Ondine?”
“Could she be a mermaid or something?”
Ashe turned to stare at him. “And you believe in mermaids?”
“Nope, but like I said, seen lots of strange things I can’t explain. Figured mermaid was as good as any a place to start. Overheard her talking to Varun. When she was just a kid, she went overboard in these waters. Didn’t drown. Was found alive—right there.” He pointed to Anak Krakatoa.
The solitary peak was black, the terrain around it harsh and unwelcoming. It was no place for a child, not even for a short period of time. Ashe brushed aside the flicker of doubt. Jinn squawked, “Don’t worry. It’s not going to be a homecom
ing for her. No one’s going ashore but Varun and me.”
“Should we be expecting any storms?”
She glanced up at the sky. “I hope not.” The wind tearing around the ship stilled suddenly, dropping to a dead calm.
Jackson grimaced. “Like I said. Freaky shit going on around here.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. “You got all your gear, man?”
Varun nodded, his steps and arms weighed down by the backpack he cradled.
“You need any help with that?”
“Nope, I got it.” Varun carefully set the backpack down in the corner of the speedboat. The bag twitched ever so slightly, and Varun set a steadying hand on it before turning to face Ashe. “Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Is everything all right?”
The corner of his mouth tugged into a grimace. “I just went to let Ondine know I was going onshore.”
“Hoping for a farewell kiss?” The sarcastic flick of her fingers was more eloquent than Jinn’s acid tone.
He laughed, but the sound was sad, and it galled her. Regardless of what he said or did, he was still emotionally tangled up with Ondine. What had that woman done for him lately?
And what has Zamir done for you recently?
Ashe scowled and slapped that thought away. She held out her arm, and Jinn, who had been preening on Jackson’s shoulder, returned to her.
“Is that parrot coming along?” Varun asked.
Jinn’s beady black eyes narrowed. “Someone has to keep an eye on the situation, dumbass.”
Varun glanced at Ashe. “Did you make him say that?”
She shrugged and stepped into the speedboat.
Varun turned and signaled to Jackson who pressed the controls. The gears screamed as the winch turned and lowered the speedboat into the water. “I’ll get that oiled,” Jackson promised, bringing two fingers to his head in a quick salute. “You guys stay safe, and in touch.” He tapped his hand against the radio on his belt.
Ashe nodded. Jinn fluttered to his place on the stern as Ashe turned the speedboat away from the Veritas and toward the island.
