by David Walton
"Yes? That's it?"
She grinned. "Just don't try to kiss me again."
He winced and rubbed his eye. "Not a chance."
PARRIS found Joan on the beach, watching the crew hoist the sails.
"You miss London," he said.
She nodded. "I don't like this place. There's an ocean between me and everything I understand. I have no house. I can't sleep for fear of what will happen next to threaten my life or those I love."
"Maybe we should go back."
She slipped into his arms. "You're sweet. You and Catherine both. But you know we can't do that. With an England full of men like Tavera, do you think we could live in peace and obscurity? Would they let you retire to the country? Besides"— Joan pointed farther down the beach, where Catherine and Matthew walked together, deep in conversation— "how could I take her away from him?"
More colonists gathered on the beach as the time came for the ship to leave. A stiff breeze blew down from the north, fluttering the sails. The capstan was turned, the anchors raised, and the ship drifted ponderously away from the dock. No one waved. Parris assumed his fellow colonists had all turned up for the same reason he had: to see with their own eyes that the Spanish were finally leaving for good.
"They'll come back, you know," Joan said. "Spain will send another force, with or without English help. And word will spread. The French will come to stake their claim, and the Dutch, and the Portuguese."
"If they make it back," Parris said.
Joan looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
Parris shrugged.
"Did you make all that up, about the flatworms?"
"No," Parris said. "That was true. The Shekinah flatworms really should prevent the problems Lord Chelsey had on his return."
"So we're giving all these miracles into the hands of our enemies."
"So it would seem."
"Then what are you talking about?"
Parris held her close. "Remember I told you what happened on our trip out here? When we opened up the ironfish and took out a quintessence pearl?"
Joan nodded. "The leviathan came."
"Would you say that those jars of flatworms on board represent a flare of quintessence greater, or less, than that of the ironfish?"
"I know little of such things, but they are certainly much brighter. I would have to say greater. Much greater."
"That's what I thought, too."
They watched the ship dwindle into the distance. Parris scuffed his shoe in the sand. "Someday we'll go back," he said.
She looked up into his face and nodded. "Someday."
Table of Contents
QUINTESSENCE
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four