by CK Dawn
“I still don’t know how he survived.” A loud voice, with a German accent, muffled by the walls but audible enough he could make out what the voice was saying.
At least, Wash thought it was German. How long had been out? His heart leaped as he realized Caitlin wasn’t anywhere in the small cabin. He put his fingers to the spot behind his right ear—no link. They searched him then—not that they would’ve found anything significant. All he had were the clothes on his back and the link.
“Doesn’t matter,” a different man spoke. His deep, guttural voice marred only by a lisp as if his mouth were full of something. Was that the orc? He’d seen one or two on the vids. They usually sounded like they were talking around something—which, he guessed, they were.
“It’s a twofer, the elf, and the diver. Not to mention we get to keep the 500k,” the guttural voice said.
“Still, it’s weird. You almost ready?”
More chains rattled on the deck. The elf? Did they mean Daphne? No. They had Caitlin. But why kill her and not Daphne? Or had they already killed Daphne—something loud splashed into the water.
Caitlin!
Wash leaped out of the bunk, banging his aching head on the metal above. He didn’t care. The inside of the boat was tiny, barely big enough for two bunks and the bridge. The wooden door withered under his booted assault. Three men stood at the stern, watching Caitlin. Her hands were bound with duct tape and a chain wrapped around her ankles, rapidly fed into the ocean behind whatever heavy thing they’d thrown in. Her eyes opened, confusion on her face when the chain went taught. She screamed as her entire body jerked off the boat to splash into the depths.
The men turned to face Wash, and he roared, charging at them. One of them lunged, and he ducked beneath the man’s swing. Weights for the crab cages were stacked on one side of the deck, and he grabbed one of the twenty-pounders. Something hit him in the back—a heavy blow that almost staggered him—but he kept running for the railing.
Gulping in a deep breath, he launched himself into the water, splashing beneath the rippling surface of the water and into darkness.
The water swallowed him as the weight pulled him downward. Not fast enough. They had to have tied Caitlin to a concrete block or something, the way it jerked her out of the boat. He had six minutes to catch up to her and bring her back to the surface.
One hand gripping the weight, he scrambled with the other to untie his boots. He kicked them off and started swimming downward as hard as he could. The weight was enough to overcome his natural buoyancy but if he wanted to catch up to her he needed to swim.
What little light penetrated the surface from the moon vanished after a few meters. The warmth of the surface disappeared soon after, and his ears started popping. Free diving wasn’t easy, or safe, and he’d only ever done it a few times.
He pushed his legs harder, wishing desperately that he had a light. She had to be here. He couldn’t come up without her. He wouldn’t.
His lungs started to burn in that familiar way, and he ignored it. Everything around him was utterly black and only his years of experience and the weight he held assured him he was in the right direction.
Something brushed his arm… soft, silky.
Hair.
He reached out, and his fingers slid through it. No! He almost screamed out the last of his air when he lost it. For a span, he swished his hands through the water.
A chain. Wash pulled himself to her. The chain was entwined with her ankles. She jerked madly at the restraints. He climbed up her until he could wrap his legs around her knees and find her face.
She was conscious, but from the way her body was convulsing, she wouldn’t be for long. He grabbed her head and pulled her lips to his.
It wasn’t the smart move. Number one rule of rescue was stay alive. Dying did neither of them any good. The cold water robbed her lips of the softness he’d imagined. When he was sure their mouths had formed a seal… he blew into her lungs.
She jerked away from him, shaking her head. He pulled her back to him pressing his lips on hers. When she relaxed, he blew again, filling her lungs with more air.
One hell of a first kiss.
First, and last.
She had at least a minute of air now, which meant he had less than one to remove the chains. His arms and legs joined his lungs in burning as the anabolic process pulled energy directly from his muscles. That was the beginning of the end for him.
He let go of her waist, pushing himself down until he was at her feet. The chain wasn’t locked, but the weight had pulled the links tight. He shimmied down further, grabbed the chain and heaved.
His arms strained from the weight. All he needed was an inch. He yanked her legs out and the chain slipped from his hands.
Once free of the weights, she stopped sinking. He put his arm around her back and kicked hard. He struggled, red and something deeper, a black darker than the water around him, crowded in on the edges of his vision. His body screamed for air. Blood filled his mouth, and he kicked harder.
He threw the full weight of his will against the rapidly descending unconsciousness. He knew exactly what his limits were. Years in the Navy had taught him when his body would fail, and he’d blown right past that point.
Each kick of his legs was weaker than the last. His whole body burned, itched, and faded. He had one last kick left in him. His heart slowed and he felt himself shutting down. Legs of rubber came together for one more push.
His head broke the surface. Instead of sucking in air, he vomited blood back into the water, nearly slipping under before he could gasp in a tiny breath. Then another.
Wash couldn’t see. He dragged in another breath, letting his body float as he cradled Caitlin to his chest.
“Cait,” he croaked. She was limp against him, her legs floating on the surface, without a twitch of life.
Carefully, so as to keep them still a float, he tilted her head up. Her lips were blue. Spitting more blood from his mouth, Wash took several deep breaths. Each one burned like fire in his lungs but he ignored the pain.
Grabbing her head, he pressed his lips to hers again and blew. They sank beneath the waves, but he felt her chest rise. He kicked them back up, sucked in another breath, and repeated the process. Again, they dropped beneath the surface. On the third one, her limbs jerked, and she started to cough.
He eased onto his back again, holding her against him, and took deep breaths to keep himself buoyant. Each rattling gasp ended with a cough of blood.
“Cait?” he rasped.
“I’m here,” she said weakly. “I shouldn’t be, but I’m here.” In the water, pulled tight against him, she seemed so small. He grabbed her shoulders and held her still even as she coughed and tried to push free of him.
“Don’t. I can float pretty much forever like this. Get your strength back.”
She laid her head back onto his chest, hands curled into little fists against his forearm as she shivered from the cold. Each breath rattled through him. He had damaged his lungs in a serious way. Part of him wondered if he would ever be able to dive again.
The other part of him said, don’t worry, you won’t be alive much longer.
It was true. A sharp wind had picked up from the east. The water was already starting to cap, and he couldn’t swim in a storm. A full moon provided plenty of light, but there was nothing to see. The boat was nowhere in sight.
He hadn’t said as much, but he needed her to regain her strength so that she could make it out of this without him.
“Cait, listen.” He coughed again. “That wind is picking up, and you can’t cast while you’re touching me.”
“What?” Her breathing was as ragged, words slurred from exhaustion brought on by oxygen deprivation.
“Can you summon something to help? Something that can take you back to shore?”
She nodded, her arms moving slowly as she grasped her astéri.
“Are you strong enough to tread water if I let you go?”
“I’m going to let go, now. Don’t go under. Okay?”
“Yeah, don’t go under… got it, handsome.” Her voice carried a note of tired humor, and she managed a small smile.
Wash pointed her away from him and pushed off. She immediately went under, her arms and legs moving too slow for treading water. He splashed to her and pulled her back up.
Caitlin spluttered. “I’m sorry.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m just so tired…”
“It’s okay. I got you Cait, I got you,” he whispered into her hair.
She curled her hands around his arm, fingers tightening, and he was surprised to hear a little sob.
“Cait?”
“No one’s ever…” She stopped. “It’s always just been me, adrift in the ocean at night. No one’s ever been there, and I’m just so damned tired, Wash. I’m so tired.”
“Shh.” He stroked her wet hair. The waves were rising around them. He tried to elevate himself a little to get some bearing. The best he could do was make out the wind was coming from the east before he sunk back into the water.
Her fingers loosened from his arm. “Wash—” There was a note of panic in her voice. “I can’t—”
“Hang on, Cait. I’ve got you,” he repeated. He whispered it to her over and over as he racked his brain to find a way out of this. Ten years of rescue swimming told him they were dead. It wasn’t about skill. Even the best swimmers could only go so long without air.
Under normal circumstances, Caitlin could probably swim for miles, but burning through all her oxygen—not just in her lungs, but in her muscles, her body cannibalizing every possible source of energy—that brutalized the system. Both his and hers. Only years of specialized training kept him going, but not for much longer. He knew enough to be sure of that.
He held onto her, one arm around her chest, and started to kick. One tired stroke, and then another. If the wind was coming from the east then odds were there would be land west and south of them.
Who knew how far away?
He kept kicking, making sure her head stayed above water. He felt her heart beat against his arm, chest rising and falling as she breathed.
A small wave crashed over him, leaving him coughing and sputtering. It was hopeless. Her hands had gone loose around his arm, probably passed out from sheer exhaustion. At least she wouldn’t experience the terror of drowning, again.
It isn’t hopeless, a voice whispered.
And there were the auditory hallucinations. Not uncommon when someone’s body was shutting down from trauma.
It isn’t a delusion.
A shot of fear stabbed through him, and he looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. There were nothing but choppy waves.
“Who said that?”
We don’t have much time, came the voice again. Your mortal body is failing you again, and it has cost me much to save you. But there’s a storm coming, and that gives me power.
“Power? I don’t understand?” Water washed over his face, leaving him sputtering for a moment.
You don’t have too. Let me in.
“I—I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know how.”
Something welled up in his chest, heavy and vast.
Let me in.
He closed his eyes, forcing down the panic surging through him, and cleared his mind.
An immense presence rose beneath him, like a whale surfacing. No… not beneath him. Inside him. A vast power as deep as the ocean and as endless as the sky.
Confused, exhausted, and out of hope, Wash let go.
Seven
In her dream, she’d been shivering and alone, freezing in the depths of the ocean while the last of her air disappeared in a bubble above her.
Arms were around her, pulling her up to the surface… but then they were gone again, and she was alone.
Alone, alone, alone…
Caitlin seized, coughing, choking, and gasping for air, hands clawing at sand and flesh. The sun beat down on her chasing away the memories of the cold, but the agony in her lungs didn’t subside.
Beneath her, with his arms clung to her waist, was Wash, still and unmoving.
“Wash?” she whispered, touching his face with her hand. His skin was warm and she let out a sudden sob of relief.
In all her long, long life, death had never brushed so near. She’d felt its cold fingers at her, tugging her into the dark. She pressed her face against his chest, taking comfort in the rhythmic beating of his heart.
He must have stayed afloat with her for hours. Caitlin couldn’t believe he’d managed it. She could swim as well as any Atlantean elf, but that was incredible.
His fingers curled up in her hair and gently stroked her head.
“Hey,” he whispered, and his voice was like music. Rough, beaten music.
“Hey, yourself.” She struggled to her knees, every muscle screaming out as she sat up.
“Where are we?” she asked, raising her hands to shield her eyes. An empty beach spread out around them, littered with driftwood. A large berm of sand lined the far side, with a screen of trees sprouting up beyond it. The sun hovered nearly directly above them which meant…
“No idea,” he groaned. “I just kept swimming.”
He’d saved her. Again. Risked his own damn life in a foolish attempt to save hers. For what? Everyone she’d ever known or been close to had wanted something. Pictures, money, attention, her… or at least her body.
He’d asked for nothing, expected nothing. They’d almost kissed once, but that had been more her than him. What the hell was it that made him willing to risk his brief, mortal life for her, without any promise of reward?
Part of her wanted to steel herself against the inevitable moment that he would call the bill due, and remind her of everything she owed him, but it felt false even as she thought it.
In some part of her, she knew him. Had known him, somehow, from the moment she pulled him out of the water.
That was what had kept her from driving him to some San Juan hospital. What made her keep him by her side all that long day. Not curiosity over the magical interference, not the bullets that magically vanished. Not his dark eyes and easy smile.
She laid a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat, and then placed another over her own. Something here knew him.
Love at first sight was ridiculous. But this wasn’t love, it was… inevitability. Like every moment of her existence had been ticking down to this very one.
She lifted her head to see him staring up at her. Shifting to straddle him, Caitlin leaned down, both hands sliding into his hair, and she brushed her lips against his.
It’s a lie, her mind told her. It’s always a lie. It’s never you they want, and it always ends in misery. If not now, in a few years…
He strained upward, covering her mouth with his own, and coherent thought vanished.
His mouth was warm, and soft, hand strong against her back, sending a sharp stab of need through the middle of her.
Wash turned his head, kissing her more deeply, his hand closing around a fistful of her hair, and lightning shivered up every inch of her damp skin.
Caitlin trembled as his fingers traced her legs to her hips, then up her side to hold her arm. She wanted more than anything for this moment to never end. Delicious warmth spread through her from her toes to the tips of her ears.
* * *
A day, forever bright
A fire, never meant for ashes
A vine that fails to fall to frost
And an hour that never passes
* * *
Such eyes were meant to sparkle
And lips, so meant to smile
Beyond the grave’s impending grasp
; And all that will fail, and is mortal
* * *
Where once remained a thousand dawns
And then a thousand more
Now here remains this only one
One last wave to shore
* * *
It was an ancient song, known to every little elven girl who wore an astéri. She’d watched that lesson played out again, and again since Atlantis rose.
“Cait?”
She realized she’d broken the kiss, her forehead pressed against his, and her face was wet with tears.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Shh. It’s okay.” He wiped the tear tracks from her face. “It’s just the moment and everything. Cait, you don’t owe me anything.”
She met his eyes and saw everything he hadn’t said. There was pain there. Not just the glimpse of old sadness she had sight of now and again as he spoke of his past.
New pain. Her.
She wanted to kiss it away, but she knew that would only drive the wound deeper.
She climbed off him, instead, dragging herself unsteadily to her feet. Whatever this was inside her that pulled her to him, it was heartache wrapped in a fleeting illusion of happiness.
She couldn’t look at him, for fear of giving in. This once, she had to be stronger than she had ever been before.
It was one thing to date a guy, and enjoy his company. To overlook his small unkindnesses in favor of not feeling alone for a while.
But love? Fear had always cut her loose whenever that felt like a possibility. That was the one thing that had made Milo dangerous, and the one thing that had set her free at last.
That was never love. It was guilt, and shame, and fear. And desperate loneliness.
The ache in her heart now seemed almost like it would match those feelings, so long buried.