Regina put a comforting hand on his knee, her eyes full of compassion. “I am doing all I can to make your sister’s...stay...comfortable. I hear she can cast wonderful light spells if given the proper tools. Like an old lamp, for instance.”
Logan stared at her, his face so full of breathless gratitude I wanted to cry.
“But wouldn’t the guards see light?” Some of the hope died out of his eyes.
“Oh, not if there were blackout curtains across her...doorway.” Regina seemed determined not to admit Chelsea was in a prison cell. Maybe to spare Logan’s feelings, but perhaps also to salve her own guilt.
“All guards aren’t witch-loathing ditch rats like Colonel Murgatroyd.” Regina reached to tap the roof of the carriage. “Take Captain Clark, for example.”
A soft sound escaped Mother as she gazed at the Lady Regent.
“As I said, Helena. I choose my battles wisely. Not every guard in every Regiment answers first to David.” Regina crossed her feet at the ankles and smoothed the fabric of her pants.
Mother and I wore pants too. And dark shirts. No rain would make our clothes see-through today. I’d caught Logan checking out my bare arms and calves, and wished I’d worn something less revealing, like a long-sleeved dress down to my ankles.
Mother and Regina had just as much skin exposed as I had, but Logan didn’t look at them the same, unsettling way. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.
Regina turned to look at Logan. She had that strange, bittersweet expression again. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to visit your sister.”
“Why would you have to ask my permission?” Logan’s jaw jutted, whether from anger or gratitude he didn’t know how to express, I couldn’t tell. “You can do anything you want.”
“And you can’t. I know that. I thought perhaps you ought to have a say in this.”
“My sister would be grateful for visits. She’s a very social little girl.” Logan stared at the side of the carriage as if there were a window through which he could see. After a moment he added, “I’d be grateful too.”
“Then it’s settled,” Regina said with a smile that faltered for a moment. “I’m the one who’s grateful for the opportunity. I once had a daughter. She almost made it to her first birthday. I had the party all planned, and Matilda even baked the cake, although the doctor warned us she might not be up to a celebration. The crisis came the night before the party. Fever. She took a turn for the worse, not better. I was never able to have any other children.”
Mother reached across the carriage to touch Regina’s knee. Tears swam in her eyes. Logan studied Regina for a moment before pressing his forehead to the side of her face and quickly leaning away again. Regina acknowledged them both with a tiny, heart-wrenching smile.
Sorrow and aching pity swamped me, rendering me useless. I never knew what to do in situations like this, and now was no exception, especially when Regina looked straight at me.
“I’m sure you understand the great lengths your mother has gone in order to protect you. She didn’t fail you, no matter how resentful you must be to be yanked from your life and thrown into the heart of chaos. She’s here now too. Be grateful for that.”
I bowed my head. “I am.”
Mother took one of my hands and curled her cold fingers around mine. I squeezed her hand. As angry as I was at her, a deeper part of me knew I couldn’t do this without her.
***
Mother and I stood with our backs to the frothing sea as I concentrated on a pile of sand she’d gathered using her magic. She’d made it look easy, although her flushed face bore testament to her exertion.
Rain dripped down my face as I focused on the mounded sand, willing it to shape itself into a sandcastle. Mother was proving to be a whimsical teacher.
Logan sat on the beach facing us, bracketed by the sea to his right and the Lady Regent and the seawall to his left. His concentration was mainly fixed on the clouds above us as he tried to magically intervene and lessen the rain.
He’d tried a few times to joke with me, but I either ignored him or responded with as few words as possible. He’d dropped beside me in the wet sand to eat his lunch, and had watched with a bemused smile as I’d taken my food and moved to sit with Mother. Shrugging, he’d bitten into his sandwich and acted as if he didn’t care. Probably he hadn’t. I vowed nobody would ever kiss me again then act as if it meant nothing. Even if it meant I was never kissed again.
Damned sandcastle. I was afraid to get angry, and I wasn’t scared enough to be terrified, so my two gateways to power were closed. Mother insisted I had as many gateways as I wanted, but I was beginning to believe my magic was only accessible through those specific heightened emotions, which then made it uncontrollable.
The sand pile doubled and trebled before my eyes. I searched inside myself for something, anything, that would talk to the magic inside me, which would communicate with the sand.
I envisioned a sandcastle, the way Mother coached me, but the wet sand didn’t move or shape itself into anything.
Othala, just do something! I thought in despair. Absolutely no response. The rain dribbled down my chin, tickling me unpleasantly.
“Maybe I’m not cut out to do cute, stupid tricks like this.” Frustration mounting, I wiped the rain off my chin and sighed. “Maybe I’m only able to do big, destructive things.”
“Your poor attitude isn’t helping,” Mother remarked, not looking at me. “I think you’re letting the idea you’re marked by Othala go to your head. You’re too good to do little acts of magic. Is that what you think?”
“No!” I cried, stung. “Why would you say that? To get me mad? You want the whole beach to collapse or something? I want to know how to do this without getting angry or terrified! Logan’s holding off most of the rain, and he’s not even breathing hard. He’s not mad or scared. And you weren’t when you convinced the sand to make itself into that pile.”
“Try to remember when you were three,” Mother suggested. “The way you laughed as the rocks jumped and danced in the air around you. You weren’t angry or scared. You were full of joy.”
“Joy.” I all but snorted the word. “What’s to be joyful about, Mother? As soon as I figure out how to do this, the Lord Regent will banish Logan and me out to sea, and we’ll never come back.”
“I don’t want to die either, Demetria,” Logan said, still staring up at the clouds. “But I will if it means my family is safe.”
“I know.” I dug my foot into the damp sand, which squished through the spaces between my toes. “I guess I don’t want my family to die any more than you want yours to. All I’m saying is that I don’t think I can be joyful right now. There’s nothing to be joyful about, is there?”
Logan lowered his head to meet my gaze, but he said nothing.
“Anyway, you’re not full of joy and you’re still making magic.” I bent to pick up a small seashell before letting it tumble from my fingers.
“I’ve had nearly a quarter century’s practice,” he said. “We’re going to need to take some shortcuts for you. We’ve tried anger and fear, and that’s proved catastrophically dangerous. Why not joy? At least then the earth won’t be trying to protect you. It’ll be happy too. Trying to please you.”
I curled my lip. “Is that why you kissed me last night? To make me joyful? If so, you ruined it at the end when you couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”
“He kissed you?” Captain Clark stomped away from the sea wall, his face mottled red with anger.
I stiffened. What on Othala? Didn’t anyone at all remember I was twenty one?
“I can kiss who I want. I don’t need anyone protecting me or getting mad at the person who kissed me,” I cried.
Logan shot me an amused look I tried hard to ignore.
Captain Clark stopped in his tracks, a sheepish expression crossing his face. “I wasn’t objecting to the kiss, but his treatment of you after it, earth witch.”
“You have only
her word for how I treated her,” Logan remarked, gaining his feet in a fluid, graceful motion.
Captain Clark took a big breath then let it out. “I think maybe I have overstepped my bounds.” He turned back toward the jetty as he spoke. “I’m going to go stand over –” He jerked to a halt.
“Is that a ship?” Mother took a step closer to the waves breaking noisily on the shore.
A thick bank of fog obscured the murky ocean, but thinner patches allowed brief glimpses farther out to sea.
Through one of these thin bands, the dark bulk of a ship showed through.
“Could it be the Regina?” I asked hopefully.
Logan’s expression turned grim as he stared. “The harbor’s on the other side of the island. There’s no reason for her to be so close to shore here. In fact, it’s dangerous. The shoals are deceptively shallow here. She’ll run aground if she comes any closer.”
“Can we help her?” The Lady Regent abandoned her shelter and came out into the rain.
“I’m not sure,” Logan answered, moving toward the edge of the water. Frothy waves washed over his feet and ankles, but he didn’t react. He focused on the ship.
A horrible sense of uselessness swamped me. If it was the Regina, my father was aboard and in danger. I hadn’t the slightest clue how to help.
“Mother? What can we do?” I looked at her. She had a hand to her throat as she watched the ship floating closer.
“She’s adrift,” Logan said. “Nobody’s at the wheel. What the hell?” He waded out into the surf as if he meant to swim out and intercept. But what could he do? Perhaps he knew how to sail. He was a sea witch after all.
I followed him, not sure what I intended to do, only that he shouldn’t be alone in doing something. Cold sea water sloshed over my feet, and the waves threatened to knock me over as I waded knee deep.
“Dem!” Mother called. She knew I couldn’t swim well, and the waters here would be too difficult for me to navigate. I should turn back, but I thought I’d glimpsed something thrashing in the water. Not the ship. Perhaps a fisherman gone overboard. Maybe even my father.
As I strained to keep focused on the bobbing figure, waves smashed into my legs and the sand swirled from beneath my feet, unbalancing me. I landed with a splash and nearly choked as a large wave slammed into my face. Momentarily, I was underwater, but I was only three or four feet deep. If I could get back on my feet, I would be fine.
“Dem!” Mother shouted again. Splashing sounded behind me as she rushed into the surf.
“What on Othala are those things?” Regina yelled. Saltwater swamped her expensive shoes. I caught a glimpse of her shocked, confused face before another wave dragged me under.
I surfaced again, gasping and heard her say, “Logan? Look at all those dark things. Are they from the ship? What are they? They can’t be people, can they?”
“Get out of the water!” Logan bellowed. I caught a glimpse of his terrified face before I went under again. “Demetria! Get up! Get out!”
I surfaced again and screamed, saltwater rushing down my throat, choking me. Three feet away in the surf, something evil reached out gruesome claws for me. A mouth full of sharp teeth snapped down barely missing my foot. Not a shark. Not any ocean creature I’d ever seen. I scrambled backward, gagging and gasping. The waves seemed to want to drag me in the direction of the monster, and I flailed my arms trying to get away.
“Demetria! Oh, Demetria! Ravagers!” Mother shrieked from behind me. She sounded so far away.
My blood iced and paralytic fear froze my limbs. Ravagers? Here? On Galveteen? We were too far out to sea. We were supposed to be safe!
The greenish-skinned monster lunged out of the sea, fangs bared. It had no eyes! How was it seeing me? I rolled desperately in the surf, and it landed with a terrifying splash not two feet from me.
Something closed around my ankle, dragging me under, and I shrieked in mortal panic.
Sea water closed over my head, and I thrashed, bubbles bursting from my nose and mouth Maybe I wouldn’t feel the pain of being ripped apart if I drowned first.
Flailing, I surfaced wrapped in the embrace of something I struggled desperately to escape.
“Stop fighting me!” Logan screamed into my waterlogged ear. “Demetria, we can stand up. We’ve got to get to the beach, and you’ve got to help me.”
I barely registered what he was saying, or even that it was him. All I saw was the eyeless, fanged monster in front of me, and I was trapped and couldn’t get away. How was it seeing us? How could it know where we were? Could it somehow sense us? I shuddered in primal horror.
Logan wrestled us to our feet as the ravager darted closer, snarling as waves pounded it underwater. It tried to surface, but waves did crazy, impossible things, forcing it down.
Logan.
We stumbled backward, and I dug my heels into the treacherous sand for a foothold. Still somehow forcing the ravager beneath the waves, Logan dragged me ashore. His body against mine shuddered with exertion, and his breath was hot in my ear.
I caught a confused blur of Captain Clark hacking with his sword at something wet and greenish with lots of teeth and claws. Blackish red blood spurted, spattering across my mother’s face as she pointed at another beached ravager. I watched in shock as the sand began burying the ravager, which howled and struggled. When it opened its gaping maw, sand leaped down its throat, smothering it.
More ravagers bobbed in the raging waves. The ravager that had almost killed me, surfaced, dead and drowned. Then, as if the sea water was toxic, the monster melted. I gagged. Logan let go of me, and ran down the beach, focusing on one of the other ravagers, drowning it before it could get to shore.
I stumbled toward Mother, gripped in the icy clutches of shock, unable to think, only to watch the carnage happening around me. If only they’d had eyes. I could have borne it better if they’d had eyes.
Regina blundered into me, grabbing and shaking me as I stared uncomprehending into her panicked face. “Do something! You are a witch! Do something to help them!” She ran off, brandishing her umbrella and joined Captain Clark who was battling another ravager washed up onshore.
I put cold hands to my face. My fingers came away wet. Sea water? Rain? Tears? I didn’t know.
“Helena!” Captain Clark’s cry was full of horrible dread. I looked to see my mother whirl around and just miss being clawed by a huge ravager, its savage teeth snapping as it advanced on her.
Regina stabbed it with the point of her umbrella, and it lunged at her, but sand wrapped around it, grounding it before it could connect with the Lady Regent’s flesh. It howled, and bit at my mother, its mouth wide open and glistening with dripping ropes of saliva. Sand flung itself down the ravager’s throat.
I walked in a daze, heading away from the confusing sea and all those strange, awful ravagers.
Ahead of me, Matilda cowered against the seawall, her face a rictus of terror. An ugly, slavering ravager advanced on her, closing the distance between them quickly. Why didn’t she run? If she ran, she might escape, but her terror seemed to paralyze her, and she stood still, waiting to be torn to shreds.
Savage anger licked at the bottom of my soul, burning its way up through the layers of icy shock. How dare these monsters threaten us? They had no right. This was our island. Our land. Galveteen was not theirs to take. They had most of the rest of the world, they would not have this piece.
Blistering heat enveloped me, but I was safe from burning this time. I somehow knew the trick of it now. Direct it away, make it seek out something else to burn.
I held up my hand, palm outward, and a fire bolt erupted from my flesh and hurtled toward the ravager. The next swipe of its mighty claws would rip into Matilda’s soft belly.
The fireball hit the ravager between the neck and back, and the beast went up in a blazing inferno. It had time to howl once, in agony, before it burst into fiery chunks that scattered across the wet beach in all directions.
A ragged c
heer rose up behind me. Belatedly, I realized it was Logan. He sounded ferociously pleased. Wild and feral. Like a warrior in the heat of battle.
Brutal glee squeezed my insides like a fist. I could do this. I would do this!
Matilda collapsed, sobbing, to the ground, and I whirled. The waves were full of ravagers, so many I couldn’t stop to count them. Captain Clark combatted one on the beach while Mother wrapped another in a sand cocoon. Regina darted between them both, stabbing with her umbrella.
Logan met my gaze across the beach, and his eyes fairly sizzled as we wordlessly melded into a team. He turned back to drown a ravager in the heaving waves, while I focused on one dragging its bulky body out of the surf. It let out a vicious roar when it saw me, raising up to show me its claws and fangs.
I summoned the fire within me and cast another flaming bolt, which slammed into the ravager and consumed it within seconds.
“Helena!” I whipped around at Captain Clark’s anguished cry to see Mother collapsed on the sand, curled into an exhausted ball. She tried to lift her head.
“I can’t anymore.” She panted to catch her breath. “I...” Her eyes fluttered shut as she lost consciousness.
Captain Clark rushed to her side, pursued by a half-crazed ravager that spewed blood from at least a dozen wounds. Oblivious to his peril, he threw himself down, covering Mother’s body with his own.
Oh, Othala! I thought desperately. “Oh, please help them!”
Something inside me reached out and connected with the earth itself. The link shimmered and sizzled, strengthening, tasting me as I savored it. For the first time I understood what Mother had been talking about, what Logan did with the sea and the weather without seeming to try.
A conversation. An unbreakable connection that could fall silent, but would always talk to me if I but asked.
I focused on the earth near Mother and Captain Clark. The sand rumbled and shuddered as a trough several feet deep formed in a circle around them – wide enough to prevent the ravager from leaping across, although it tried.
Howling in rage, it plunged into the depths. Snarls choked off as sand smothered and crushed to the ravager to death.
Sea Cursed: An Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 13 (The Othala Witch Collection) Page 12