Treasure of the Abyss

by Tiffany Roberts

  “Wha…? Oh god.” Macy hid behind Jax.

  “Arkon,” Jax growled, baring his teeth.

  “Take no offense, please. This is simply fascinating.”

  “I’m not offended,” Macy said. “It’s just… People don’t usually talk about that so openly. But, um, yes. We…fit.”

  Jax glanced at her over his shoulder, brow low. “If you answer him, it will only encourage him to ask more.”

  “My silence didn’t deter you.”

  “So you are willing to answer questions that make you uncomfortable?” Jax asked. When she nodded, he moved away, allowing Macy and Arkon full view of one another, and leaned against the wall. “Consider yourself warned.”

  Arkon grinned. “Jax, what—”

  “She has agreed to answer your questions, Arkon. Not me.”

  “Some of them,” Macy said.

  A thousand questions flitted across Arkon’s face, but he gave voice to none of them immediately. The tips of his tentacles writhed ceaselessly on the floor. Jax had rarely seen him so excited.

  After a long hesitation, Arkon turned to the wall and swept his eyes over the painting. “How did your people create this?”

  “With paint and brushes. Something that size, with that much detail, would’ve taken a long time to finish.”

  “But…how?” Arkon reached forward, trailing a fingertip over the paint. “When you look at it in little pieces, it’s a mess. A jumble of uneven colors, lacking precision. But when you step back, it somehow comes together to make something…real.”

  Macy tilted her head and smiled. “You almost sound like Aymee. She sees more detail in everything than I ever could, especially when she paints.”

  “You know someone who can do this?”

  “Yeah. She could probably even teach you.” Macy’s smile faltered. “She’s back in The Watch, though.”

  Jax didn’t miss the sorrow on Macy’s face, or the way her shoulders drooped. She’d given up everything she’d known for him. This was another reminder that her old life was over, that she’d never see the people she cared about again.

  Something splashed in the water below.

  “I wish I could—” Confusion halted Macy’s words and creased her brow. She glanced down; a pair of black tentacles were wrapped around her ankles.

  Alarm burst through Jax, but before he could move, Macy’s feet were yanked out from beneath her.

  Her scream was cut off when her body slammed into the walkway. She clawed at the ground as she was dragged toward the water. Her desperate, terrified eyes found Jax just before she disappeared over the edge.

  She called his name, but a loud splash swallowed her voice.

  Jax darted forward and leapt off the walkway. He landed in churning water. Bubbles obscured his vision as Macy struggled against her attacker, granting Jax only glimpses of her golden hair and the black skin of a kraken.

  Dracchus.

  Chest burning with rage, Jax charged into the writhing tentacles.

  Macy kicked and thrashed as her captor attempted to subdue her. Jax forced his tentacles between them and sank his claws into Dracchus’s limbs, tinting the water red with blood. Arkon entered the fray a moment later, attacking Dracchus from behind, and together they pried Macy away from his grip.

  Skin crimson, Dracchus shifted his effort to Jax.

  To the surface, Jax signed to Arkon, thrusting Macy toward him.

  Arkon hurried away with her.

  Dracchus wound a tentacle around Jax’s throat, dragging him back into the fight.

  Rather than pull away, Jax pushed himself toward Dracchus, slamming into him. Their limbs became a tangled mess, tentacles coiling and grabbing, claws slashing, each vying for the advantage. Dracchus sliced open Jax’s cheek; Jax retaliated by jabbing his claws into Dracchus’s ribs.

  Jax couldn’t see much, between the dim light and flowing blood, but it didn’t matter. Dracchus wouldn’t back down; he was everywhere, exerting his superior strength, crushing and tearing. Jax didn’t try to overpower his foe. He moved with his foe’s effort, twisting and redirecting momentum, attacking through every opening left by the larger kraken.

  In Jax’s rage, the pain of his wounds was distant. Years of rivalry and challenge made no difference now — Dracchus had laid hands on Jax’s mate, might well have done her harm, might have killed her. This wasn’t about who was the strongest, or who was best suited to lead. Their people were not here to witness this battle.

  Thick tentacles wrapped around Jax’s abdomen and dragged him close. Before he could escape, Dracchus clamped his hands over Jax’s throat, cutting off the path of his siphons. Jax buried his claws in his opponent’s forearms, but Dracchus didn’t relent.

  Jax clenched his teeth. He would not allow Dracchus to touch Macy again. Would not allow her to come to further harm. He needed, more than anything, to get back to her. To know she was safe.

  He dropped his hands to the tentacles encircling his waist as the edges of his vision darkened.

  If Dracchus meant to have his victory today, there would be a steep price.

  Macy broke into a coughing fit the instant her head broke the surface. She hacked up water, her nose and throat on fire. Once her coughing subsided enough, she took in a ragged, burning lungful of air. Her vision — which had been failing due to lack of oxygen — cleared slowly.

  The strong arms holding her were not Jax’s.

  She called his name, searching for him, but she couldn’t see him in the thrashing water. She only knew he was fighting, and that she was being moved away from him.

  “I have you, Macy,” Arkon said. “Please calm down.”

  “Where’s Jax?” She tried to turn in Arkon’s arms, but he held her tight.

  “Jax has faced worse. His concern is for you, now.”

  Macy gulped air desperately as Arkon swam to the wall. He removed an arm from her without loosening his hold and pulled himself up the ladder with seemingly little effort. Only when they were on solid ground did he release her.

  Ignoring the trembling in her limbs, the ache in her chest, and the sting in her nose and throat, she crawled to the edge and stared down into the water.

  Where is he? Where is Jax?

  Arkon sank down beside her. “Are you all right, Macy?”

  “I’m fine.”

  The water darkened with a huge, fresh cloud of blood, and Macy’s heart seized.

  “Jax!” she cried.

  Before she could dive in, Arkon wrapped his arms around her waist. She latched onto the edge and pulled against his hold; he grunted with exertion, but she couldn’t break free.

  “There’s nothing you can do for him right now, Macy!”

  Macy turned her tear-filled eyes upon him. “So why aren’t you helping him? He’s your friend!”

  His brow furrowed, and he shifted his head back. “What is wrong with your—” He shook his head. “Do you promise to remain here?”

  “Yes! Yes! Please, just help him!”

  Arkon’s eyes lingered on her for another second, and then he released her and dove off the edge.

  The water was still now, save for the slowly dispersing blood.

  Macy blinked away her tears as they blurred her vision, praying for some sign of Jax. She bit her lips to hold in a cry of distress.

  The water stirred. She clutched the stone hard enough to hurt her fingers.

  Arkon surfaced first, facing away from her. Dracchus’s black head came up next. Fresh cuts glistened on the side of his face in the weak light streaming through the broken ceiling. Macy’s breath caught in her throat.

  As more of Dracchus emerged, she realized there was a gray arm wrapped around his neck. Jax surfaced behind Dracchus, his other arm looped beneath one of the larger kraken’s armpits, and he’d grasped his own wrist to lock the hold.

  He wasn’t dead.

  Relief urged moisture down Macy’s cheeks. Her heart slowed to its normal pace, and the fear that had gripped it eased. It took eve
rything in her to remain still; she’d given her word to Arkon.

  Jax swam backward, dragging his captive toward the ladder. Somehow, between himself and Arkon, they managed to drag the large kraken up onto the walkway, though Dracchus seemed to put up no resistance.

  Without releasing his hold, Jax turned toward Macy.

  Arkon hurried to her side and offered her a hand. She took it and pulled herself up onto shaky legs. Arkon imposed himself partially in front of her.

  “You have truly betrayed us, Wanderer,” Dracchus said. His voice was deeper than Jax’s, rougher.

  “I have done no such thing,” Jax replied. “But you have attacked someone I care for. Should I kill you now, after you almost killed her?”

  “I was not going to kill her.” Dracchus’s amber eyes were fixed on Macy. His expression was hard, betraying none of the pain he must have felt, given his numerous open wounds.

  Macy ran her eyes over him. He was bigger than Jax, broader, perhaps slightly taller. Blood oozed from cuts and punctures all over his body, and one of his tentacles lay limp on the floor, sporting a gash so large and deep that it had nearly been severed.

  What wounds had Jax taken? There were slash marks on his cheek, scratches on his arms and tentacles, but the rest of his body was hidden behind his captive.

  “You dragged her into the water,” Jax said.

  “And? She came here by sea.”

  She couldn’t tell if it was just the last shred of pride playing on Dracchus’s features or his hatred for her.

  “Humans cannot breathe underwater.” Jax’s tentacles coiled tighter.

  “Then they should stay away from the water.” Dracchus’s jaw muscles bulged, but he didn’t look away from Macy.

  Arkon shifted, breaking her eye contact with Dracchus, and frowned over his shoulder.

  “She has as much right to it as any of us,” Jax said, “but you have no right to touch her.”

  “And what right do you have to forsake your people for a human, Wanderer?”

  “He didn’t,” Macy said.

  “What reason would I have to take the word of a human? The Wanderer has refused to hunt, so he has forsaken our survival.”

  “One refused hunt is not a betrayal.” She placed a hand on Arkon’s arm and peered around him.

  “Humans must be foolish, to believe such. Without food, the kraken will die, and no hunter is more skilled than Jax the Wanderer.” Dracchus bared his teeth as he spoke. A few of them were smeared with crimson.

  “And I have always given, despite what you and all the rest think of me,” Jax growled, tugging back on Dracchus’s neck. “I have taken for myself, for once, and it is immediately a betrayal?”

  Dracchus grimaced. “What have you told her? Have you already betrayed our home? Our younglings?”

  “Jax has told me nothing to endanger your people or your home,” Macy said.

  “He has mated with you; you wear each other’s scents. What will come of that? When humans come to seek revenge for the past, will Jax say he did not mean for it to come to such?”

  Macy stepped around Arkon, shrugging off his restraining hand, and approached Dracchus. “I never knew of your existence, not until Jax saved me. No one knows. Jax has refused to let me go back, despite his guilt, because he cannot — and will not — betray you. And I chose to stay with him.” She met Jax’s eyes for a moment.

  Silence settled over the chamber as Dracchus stared down at her.

  “It may not mean anything to you,” Macy continued, “but as much as he cares for your people, he also took responsibility for me. He knows I can’t survive without him, just like you say the kraken cannot survive without hunters, and he has selflessly provided for me. He didn’t have to save me. He didn’t have to keep his word to me. But he has…he’s protected me, just like he’s continued to protect the kraken. With honor.”

  Dracchus narrowed his eyes, flared his nostrils, and clenched his jaw. He leaned his head back, finally breaking eye contact with her.

  “You speak true. The Wanderer keeps his word…but he has also chosen to mate something other. A human. It is unnatural.”

  Macy refused to react to the disgust in his voice, refused to be ashamed for what she and Jax shared.

  Jax moved suddenly, swinging Dracchus around and slamming him face-first into the wall. His tentacles wrapped around Dracchus’s arms, pulling them back, as he pressed his forearm against the back of his captive’s head.

  “You will not speak of her in that way again,” Jax growled.

  Dracchus’s cheek was on the stone, his expression a blend of anger, pain, and stubbornness.

  Macy touched Jax’s shoulder. “Don’t.”

  “It is less than he deserves, Macy.”

  “Didn’t you think the same of me, in the beginning?”

  Jax turned his head toward her, frowning. The fury on his face faded.

  She ran her hand down his back, careful to avoid his wounds. “You’ve been taught to hate humans your entire life. It’s not something you can stop immediately, and no amount of punishment will change that.”

  “You would have died, Macy.” His voice was low, raw, desperate.

  Macy glanced at Dracchus. “I…I don’t believe he meant to hurt me. At least to that extent. You didn’t know humans could drown either.”

  Jax’s posture was tense with conflict, and Macy couldn’t guess what he meant to do, couldn’t guess at what he’d choose. She had no doubt that he’d kill Dracchus if he deemed it necessary.

  “What was your intent toward her, Dracchus?” he finally asked.

  “To bring her before our people. As proof of your treachery, and as a warning that we must remain aware of the humans nearby.”

  “She will not be brought to the kraken for judgment,” Jax said.

  “As I said, Wanderer, you have bested me. I will not defy your will in this. But I will not keep it from our people, either.”

  “They will demand an explanation from you, Jax,” Arkon said.

  “They will demand justice.” The intensity in Dracchus’s eyes was unwavering. “Whether she is a threat on her own or not, her people have always been a danger to us. Our people deserve to know.”

  “I will not bring her before them. They have no say in my choice, no say in her life!” Jax snarled.

  “I’ll go,” Macy said, despite her fear. Jax and Arkon hadn’t hurt her, and while Dracchus hadn’t necessarily been gentle, he’d not meant her true harm. If he’d wanted her dead, she wouldn’t have survived her sudden trip into the water. She had to believe the other kraken would act the same.

  The chamber was silent, and the gazes of all three kraken weighed heavily upon her.

  “You’re not going,” Jax finally said.

  “There is enough strain between you and your people. You don’t need this. You don’t…don’t need to keep me secret.”

  “I do not know what they will do, Macy. I cannot protect you against all of them.”

  “It…doesn’t matter. What would happen if you didn’t bring me? Would you be hunted, banished, imprisoned? I need to go to them, Jax, and…we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

  “No. I do not need that place. Do not need them. I will face the consequences, but I will not bring you directly into danger.”

  Macy stepped closer and cupped Jax’s cheeks. “I’m going.”

  “Do not dishonor her courage, Wanderer,” Dracchus said. “I cannot work against the will of our people, but I give you my word that I will help protect her from unjust harm.”

  Jax clenched his jaw, teeth bared, and searched Macy’s face. A faint tremor ran through his limbs. With a grunt, he released Dracchus.

  “Whatever may come, Jax, I am beside you,” Arkon said.

  Dracchus pushed away from the wall and rolled his neck and shoulders.

  Jax turned to face Macy, settling his hands on her upper arms; his grip was just a bit too tight. “You are certain of this?”

  Macy n
odded, flattened her palms against his chest, and leaned forward to kiss his lips. “I am.”

  His frown didn’t fade. He drew her into his arms, holding her head against his shoulder, and wrapped a pair of tentacles around her waist. Macy returned his embrace.

  “We are not beholden to them,” he rasped.

  “But they are your people, and they are all you have.”

  “You gave up your people.”

  Macy glanced at Arkon and Dracchus; the two stood silently, watching. Lifting her head, she looked up at Jax. “I have you.”

  Tortured emotions played across his face; pain, sorrow, confusion, guilt. “I will do everything to keep you safe.”

  Chapter 16

  The kraken surrounded Macy as they swam, with Dracchus — seemingly on high alert — in the lead. Their eyes moved ceaselessly, undoubtedly scanning the water for signs of razorbacks and other predators. Macy’s attention was torn between the scenery, the sea life, and the kraken themselves.

  Dracchus looked back only rarely, but Arkon and Jax seemed to glance at one another often; each time, they made strange gestures with their hands and tentacles, and a variety of colors flashed over their skin. They had an entire language without words! Dracchus took part, too, though he seemed to have comparatively little to say.

  They continued away from shore. Jax had never taken Macy in this direction, and never quite so far. Gradually, they descended, and the sunlight shining through the surface grew more distorted and faint.

  The seafloor around them became relatively flat and open, broken only by a few clusters of rock. Despite her kraken escort, Macy couldn’t help but feel exposed; would three be enough to fight off a razorback?

  Her eyes shifted to something ahead. Light. It was diffused by the haze of distance, but there was no mistaking it — there was light on the bottom of the sea.

  It grew more distinct as they neared, and the dark shape behind it slowly took form. Macy’s jaw hung agape. She’d thought the place they’d just been was a lost wonder; this surpassed anything she could have imagined.

  They were swimming directly toward a huge building — several buildings — all constructed on the seafloor. White lights shone at intervals along the exterior walls, bathing the surrounding terrain in their glow. Dracchus led them to a large door and halted, turning to face the others.