Guardian of the Abyss
by Shannon Phoenix
Copyright and copy; 2012 Shannon Phoenix
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover created by Steena Holmes at The Author's Red Room
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people, except as stated via vendor contract. Thank you for respecting my hard work in writing this book.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
About Shannon
Contact Shannon
Excerpt of A Wolf’s Song
Chapter 1
Sarah and James had been doing this for years. He had scuba gear on with more than enough air for two, and even an additional mini-tank for her. They held the weighted sled and the pair plummeted towards the large enclosed, protected area of coral on the sea floor. It was only one-hundred-ten feet. They would take the photos and then return to the surface.
She loved doing this, she always had. It was so beautiful here under the water, and free-diving brought peace and comfort to her. James loved scuba diving, but had no interest in free diving. Sarah paid for his gear and for trips around the world with her in exchange for him being her spotter.
Nothing could go wrong, because they planned with great care, and James checked on her every few seconds. She had no extra breathing apparatus, but she had the ability to free-dive, which meant she could hold her breath and dive to incredible depths. Her personal best was just short of three hundred feet.
Anchoring the boat, they dropped into the balmy waters off the coast of Bimini, on the opposite side from the more famous ruins where a deep drop-off plunged down to the Gulf Stream current, one of the most powerful trench currents in the world. They were here to photograph a rare circle of delicate coral. With much of the world’s coral dying, the still-living coral here was a miracle. So, camera in hand, Sarah descended. This time around, she intended to do something unprecedented. She would remain down as long as she chose to, with the secondary tank that James was bringing. She had never done so before, so it was a new thing for her.
However, because of the depth, there was little choice for her if she was going to remain there for more than a few minutes. Once at such a depth, they would need to take decompression stops along the way back up if they didn’t turn straight around and go back up. With the extra tank for her, they had provided more than enough air for themselves to make these stops, and thus she knew that neither of them felt any concern as they descended towards the beautiful ocean floor, cameras strapped to their belts and their spirits high.
In the boat above them, they had left a local diving expert, so that they knew they had surface support as well as each other. Sarah knew what she was doing was dangerous, but she had done everything possible to make it a calculated risk. She was as safe as she could make herself while free-diving. She took a lot of ridicule for her precautions, but she was content.
High above them, water glittered as the sun danced on the waves. Around them, fish darted or lazed along. Bubbles floated up from the sled and from James’ breathing apparatus. Even with the wetsuit on, water caressed her skin and surrounded her intimately, an embrace more familiar and beautiful than a lover’s caress. It was, in a word, glorious.
Once they reached the bottom, it was gloomy, but not dark. Sarah turned her light on and looked around her. The coral was brilliant in the beams from her headlamp, and she shook her head for the moment when James offered her the smaller air tank. She was still doing well, and knew that shortly she would need more air, but by then she could take on the tank. She had longer since she was ‘tanking up’.
She turned to take a picture, and saw one of the many drug-cartel packages floating some 10 feet or so away. That was uncomfortably close, and she turned to signal to James to look out for them. But as she turned, she realized it was too late--far too late. Apparently there had been one where James was, as well. And James had activated the mines the dealers built into the buoy.
The bombs were intended to prevent people from stealing the weighted bags of drugs. The bomb connected to the package near James detonated and the water filled with blood. James’ goggles floated past her, and Sarah did the one thing she had never done before. She panicked.
Even as the fear took her, and darkness began to close in as adrenaline sped up her heartrate and stole the oxygen from her brain, she saw a face loom in the blossoming blood. It was a face from the pit of hell and it followed her into darkness, black eyes pursuing her ruthlessly even as her impending death stole all functioning from her mind.
She tried to scream, but nature had locked her throat closed, a phenomenon known as shallow-water blackout.
* * * *
Abaddon had lived in this ocean hell for so long now that he didn’t even know how long it had been. Unable to connect to the wind or the Earth due to the water around him, he had been forced to attempt to revive what energy he could from the distant sun. Water was his enemy, and he had never known it more than now.
Most of the ‘guests’ he got here were men or women whose intentions were vile. Their nefarious purposes broadcasted so strongly that even the wildlife here felt it and hid. Abaddon hadn’t known of their explosive devices for very long, but he’d found out by means of a curious--and now dead--shark. He had never touched their strange packages, and knew nothing of what they contained.
But today, he had stepped out of his underground lair in order to attempt some time in the sun. He needed replenishment, and in these depths, watery sunlight was all he could get. Unfortunately, it came at a cost as the water continued to etch away at his stone form. He had no idea what would happen, but without sufficient power, he couldn’t renew it. Would he die? Never return from stone form? He didn’t know... didn’t care to find out. So his forays out were few and far between.
As he sat there in stone form, he had seen the human man detonate the bomb, and felt his ill will. The water had filled with blood and then Abaddon had seen the woman and the terror on her face. She wore none of the strange apparatus the others always wore, and Abaddon wondered how she survived so long under the water. Yet he also realized that her death would happen any second now. He looked up after the retreating man. He could jump and catch him. Then he could climb the rope and be free of this prison at last.
Or he could save the woman. He felt her shining soul and he could do nothing but gather her close and make haste towards his cavern. He refused to look at the retreating chain that held her companion. He couldn’t bear it, and he might change his mind. He already regretted it. It was likely that she would die anyway, and he had thrown away the
first opportunity he had ever had to escape. The others had never lowered a chain. They swam down with their bodies covered in strange machines, and swam away again.
It was almost more than he could bear to let it go, but now the decision was made and with each passing second, it went beyond the reach of his highest underwater jump. He pushed into the cavern and leaped from the water in a single jump. His powerful legs took him up onto the ledge that made up his prison.
Had he never found this underwater chamber filled with air, his stone form would have been taken over by the ocean long ago. As it was, he was able to escape the water’s constant torment for periods of time until low energy forced him to seek the sun’s rays.
He laid her down carefully, concerned about her health and well-being. She looked fragile, laying there alone in the slight gloom from the lichen that coated the walls. He had no memory of how to care for her. It had been so long since he’d been around humans--anyone at all, for that matter--that he had no idea what to do.
A moment passed and she suddenly convulsed. Abaddon decided that was most likely a bad thing. He turned her onto her side and watched as water and something else spewed from her mouth, filling the chamber with a vile odor. Disgusted, he cupped water from the ocean and let it carry the vile substance back with it. After a couple of minutes, she lay still and quiet except for the strange, regular sound of air going in and out of her. That, he felt sure, was a good thing.
He wondered what he would do when she awoke. Maybe he would just sit in his stone form, and she’d go away. She couldn’t stay here, humans were fragile. She had gotten down there without the strange objects the humans kept on their faces, so she would leave his cave and go back the same way.
Satisfied by this certainty, he moved a few feet away and squatted down to watch her taking in and releasing air. It was odd that humans, even while rejuvenating, could not be still. Fascinating, as well... and lovely. No doubt he only thought so because he hadn’t seen a woman in... how long had it been? Well, a long time, anyway.
The usual silence of his cavern was broken by the woman’s sounds, and Abaddon found it difficult to focus. Perhaps he should go outside and attempt to utilize the remaining hours of daylight. It was a wise choice. Not doing so was likely unwise in the extreme.
But Abaddon sat and stared at the constantly moving form of the woman. If there was one thing he could admit, it was that at least he hadn’t forgotten what a woman was. Nor, in all those long years, had he forgotten what it felt like to be betrayed by one. He’d be rid of this one as quickly as possible. Until then, he wasn’t above enjoying looking at her. She was beautiful in body and soul. He’d remember her for a long time after she was gone.
The thought made his heart pinch. He didn’t want her to be gone. Except he did, because her being here was just plain dangerous on every level, for both of them. Not that she was his problem. She wasn’t his problem. But if she was, he’d want her back to her own world quickly, for her own good. Humans had needs, as he recalled. A rather excessive lot of needs, at that. He had absolutely no way of caring for a pet, aside from the shark he sometimes fed. Other than Geoff the shark, he didn’t need anything, unless it could get him out of his personal hell.
And that, he decided, was that.
Chapter 2
Sarah awoke to pain in her chest, and fear crowding her mind. She was supposed to be dead. A free-diver didn’t panic underwater and live to talk about it. The spike of adrenaline from fear would kill... it should have killed her. She lay still trying to remember, trying to dredge up the knowledge of what had happened.
James. Tears rolled down her face and she slowly opened her eyes. Above her was damp, dripping rock. It had been the dripping on her face that had awakened her. She groaned, sitting up and looking around. It looked like she was in some sort of cave. There was no indication of human habitation. She stood up and almost fell, slipping on the lichen that coated the ground. It was then that she realized that lichen coated the walls, also, and that some patches of it glowed slightly.
She tried to find a way out, giving up after a few moments and sitting down to lean against the large, oddly-shaped stone in the middle of the cavern. How could she be in a cave? And how had she gotten into a cave with no exit? It made no sense.
She sighed and looked at the black water a few feet away. She should go out and explore it, but the water was so black that she had no idea how she would be able to sense anything of value once she was inside. She could reach the limit of her breath and die. She was grateful enough to be alive that she wasn’t going to make that mistake. One doesn’t throw away a second chance at life with stupid choices.
Standing up again, she tried to ignore her aching lungs. As she turned away, she looked at the odd stone she’d been standing against. To her surprise, it was almost a recognizable shape. It looked a bit like a gargoyle that should be squatted on top of a Cathedral, rather than a stone lying at the bottom of a damp cavern like a lump.
“It looks like it’s just you and me, buddy,” she said to it, rubbing it on the end that looked rather like a snarling head. “Ugly little fellow, aren’t ya?” she chuckled, her voice echoing hollowly in the chamber.
“Well,” she told him, “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Of course, I left the French fries in my other pack.” She sighed as the lump of funny-looking stone remained silent. “Tough crowd,” she grumbled. She curled up against it, feeling too exposed and far too cold.
If someone didn’t find her soon, she realized, she was likely to die of exposure. She pulled her clothes off, shivering more at their absence. Where was her wetsuit? It was nowhere to be found. She sighed and curled into as small a ball as she could, lying against the stone formation that reminded her, however distantly, of not being stuck in a wet cave with only lichen to comfort her.
She dreamed of warmth seeping into her from her side, and warm golden wings wrapping around her. She sighed and snuggled closer, and the wings growled at her. She smiled at the thought of growling wings and settled deeper into sleep. Her shivering ceased and she slumbered peacefully, unaware that her dream had been a brief moment of near-wakefulness.
When she woke, she found herself surprisingly warm, curled up still against ‘her statue’. The water was now lit as if from below, pale light streaming from beyond it. She dared for a moment to hope that it meant that beyond it was a way out. She carefully dressed again, surprised to find her discarded camera off in a corner of the cavern. It was slightly damaged, as if it had been tossed into the corner negligently. The light, however, still functioned, though it was wobbly and uncertain.
She practiced her breathing for a few moments, then when she was ready, she plunged into the water. Before she was even fully immersed, however, the air was driven forcibly from her lungs with a sudden agonized 'whoosh'. Shocked by the sudden need to breathe, she floundered, realizing that she couldn't stand there, the bottom too far away. The force of the water made her ache right down to her bones and had literally pushed the air from her lungs.
Desperate, she clawed for a ledge, but there was nothing but sheer stone. As white spots began to swim in front of her eyes, she saw the demonic head from her vision before she passed out the day before. She was forcibly grasped and yanked out of the water by golden arms.
She fell on the ground, gasping desperately. Head hanging down, she gasped and sucked in air, desperate to fill her aching lungs. At last she looked up, but there was no one there. The cavern was silent and still, and she was alone once more.
It was several hours before she began to doubt her sanity. Stones didn't move, and yet the stone she liked to curl up against had unquestionably moved from its previous location. There was even a dry spot where it used to be. Sanity dictated that she question her sanity thanks to this proof that something was most definitely off... Wasn’t there a saying that said that insane people never thought they were insane?
She finally curled up in the dry spot and fought to breath, as
if the air was too heavy or too thick. Sleep finally came, despite the gnawing of hunger that made her stomach clench and her eyes water.
* * * *
Abaddon was deeply distressed. The woman clearly couldn't get out the same way she'd come in. For a moment, he had feared she would expire, and the terrible sounds she had made had clutched at his heart. He had feared he might be too late to pull her free from the clutching depths of the water, but she was lying still again; expelling air regularly, though quite noisily.
Something was happening inside him as he watched her. He was changing in some way that he couldn't quite define. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Was she going to be okay? He crept closer to her in his stone form, listening to the noises she made.
He had spent the dark hours warming and drying her body, and he desperately needed to replenish himself. If he didn't go out and gather what sun he could--the least efficient energy source for a gargoyle--he would be unable to warm her when the next darkness came, and he suspected she would expire if he did not. The previous darkness, until he had warmed her, she had rattled her mouth bones together loudly.
He couldn't remember what they were called or what they were for, and that bothered him. Somehow, he thought it was profoundly important, but the significance of the mouth bones was lost on him.
Presently, though he wished only to sit and look at the human female, Abaddon left the cavern to sit in the sun on the ocean's floor. The entire time, his mind kept coming back to the matter of the mouth bones. It wasn't until he watched a shark capture a flailing fish that it dawned on him.
Of course. They were called 'teeth', and humans required them to masticate other animals for sustenance. They could not absorb from the sun as he did. When the sunlight had waned to the point of near uselessness, he turned back to his humanoid form. As always, he kept his wings firmly tucked away. He had learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago. Water currents would capture them like sails and the pain would be profound.
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