SeaChange

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  “Chiron, Nikolaos and I will swim alongside the boat so you will not be overcrowded. Also, cash will not a problem,” Marcos grunted. He handed Jake the chest then smirked as Jake sagged beneath the weight. He heard the muted jingle of a large pile of coin. “Her majesty anticipated a need for currency.”

  “Of course she did.” His mother was always one step ahead of everybody else. He set the chest down on an end table and unlatched the clasp. He heard Heidi gasp as the lid opened to reveal a big pile of gold, silver, and gems along with a fat bundle of green. The bottom of the chest was lined with gold bars. Yeah. This pile was worth several million, if sold properly.

  “There is twenty thousand in paper money,” Myrrine confirmed as Jake rifled the wad of cash. “The rest is salvaged from old shipwrecks. I assume you can find a way to convert that to modern currency?”

  “I know a guy,” Jake said cautiously. “I’ve sold him a few things in the past.” In the last seven decades, he’d picked up a few treasures off the ocean floor, even though he couldn’t dive in dolphin form. He wasn’t sure Wally Flowers would be able to unload quite that much all at once, but he worked for salvage crews, so big hauls, though rare, weren’t unheard of. Jake would just have to watch his back for the next year as every serious salvage operator in the Pacific tried to follow him and find the imaginary wreck.

  “We will need guns, ammunition and so on,” Myrrine added. “Do you think we will have enough for those as well as a boat?”

  Jake nodded. “Easily.” And if they didn’t, he did.

  “Your mom and Leta can share the bed,” Heidi suggested. “Then you and I can sleep out here. The guys can string the hammock up on deck and take turns.”

  “I can crash in the recliner,” Jake agreed reluctantly. The thought of not being able to sleep with Heidi was depressing as hell. “And I think I have a second hammock stowed somewhere, or at least a sleeping bag.”

  She gave him a smile that let him know she felt it too, then snapped a quick salute. “So set a course for San Diego, Captain. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Jake shook his head. “All right, number two. Just remember—it’s your turn to cook. You’re the one who has to stretch food for two to feed seven.”

  The sight of her rueful grin and the sound of her laugh kept him smiling while he went topside to weigh anchor and start the engines.

  * * * * *

  Dinner was a buffet on deck. Myrrine and Marcos had brought a big basket of leftovers from the ceremony, so there was more than enough to go around. Jake put on some CDs, which kept the merfolk fascinated.

  Jake wasn’t sure if he should be worried when he saw that his mother and Heidi had their heads together in the corner.

  “And then Che challenged Niko to a duel—but since the pistols had been underwater for a hundred years, of course they didn’t fire.”

  “That is so cute. And he was how old?” Heidi looked up at Jake, her eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter.

  “Nearly twelve,” Jake interjected. “And Niko was almost twenty, so he should have known better.”

  “Ah, but perhaps I knew the pistols didn’t work,” Niko said with a laugh. “Perhaps I even took the firing pins out, just to be sure of it.”

  “Oh hell, you probably did.” Jake shook his head. “And not to change the subject, or anything, but did you happen to get that diary entry translated today?”

  “Actually, I did.” Leta lounged on one of the benches with a glass of wine. “My Spanish was always superior to Niko’s, even when I was a girl. Basically, it was the journal of one of the last inhabitants of the island. In the 1890s, a smallpox epidemic wiped out most of the population. After it was over, the half-dozen survivors left, moving in with relatives on the mainland. The journal belonged to an old man, Carlos Montoya, who had been a blacksmith on the island. It was found in the home of his granddaughter after his death a few years later.”

  “Does he say anything about the island itself?” Niko asked.

  “A little. Apparently it was founded by a group of Spanish pagans in the early 1600s. When the Inquisition heard rumors of a cult of Dionysus among the colonists, they fled to one of the volcanic islands, named it for the dolphins that played in the cove, and dedicated it to Dionysus.”

  “Does he talk about the temple or the town?” Heidi asked.

  “Not much. Most of it is about the friends and family who were lost to the epidemic. One thing that is clear is there is fresh water on the island, which is rare. He also says that the god protected them by making it so the island was ‘lost’. After the cult moved there, it disappears from maps and public accounts. It was as if nearly everyone who had been there immediately forgot it when they left. He said his own memories were fading after mere weeks on the mainland. The author of the book the entry was printed in assumed it was either dementia, or a story the old man had woven for his great-grandchildren. It’s retold as a local legend, nothing more.”

  “That would explain why we can’t find the island on any contemporary maps. It doesn’t even show up on the internet,” Heidi said. “On the satellite photos, there always seems to be a cloud directly over the coordinates Dionysus sent Jake.”

  “I think the forgetting was part of the god’s way of protecting his followers,” Jake said. “So we can probably get him to lift that. But if the pirates leave and return, they must have some way to offset that particular magic.”

  “Is that something within your uncle’s capabilities?” Heidi asked.

  Jake shrugged. He had no idea how powerful Phaeton had become since absorbing Jake’s powers.

  “Perhaps,” Myrrine acknowledged. “Some sort of limited protection spell might be enough. Do we know how many pirates there are?”

  “No.”

  All heads swiveled to Wen who had appeared out of nowhere beside the pilothouse. Just a moment later, Steve popped in alongside him.

  Wen bowed to the queen, then stepped forward to seat himself next to Jake on a bench, while Steve sat cross-legged on the floor.

  “I have talked with my friends in the Mexican government,” Wen said. “No one seems to know how many pirates, or how many boats are operating in that area.”

  “U.S. government has nothing useful either,” Steve added.

  “We know that survivors report at least two small fast boats,” Heidi noted. “With six to eight men apiece, all armed with submachine guns and wearing light body armor. Also we know that at least once, two attacks happened simultaneously. That gives us a minimum of four boats and twenty-four pirates.”

  “And a couple of the yachts have been sunk, using plastic explosives,” Jake added. “In those cases, the survivors were left in the lifeboats with their hands tied up. In others, the boats are stripped, disabled, and left floating, with the people locked in an interior room.”

  “So the pirates aren’t taking the yachts to resell,” Wen said. “But they are taking anything of value that’s portable.”

  “In some cases, artwork and jewelry worth hundreds of thousands, or even millions,” Jake agreed.

  “Hard to get all of that on a cigarette boat filled with armed thugs,” Heidi said. “So how do they get their loot back to the island?”

  “Perhaps once the owners and crew are locked up, the pirates bring in a bigger vessel,” Marcos theorized.

  “They must,” Jake agreed.

  “The attacks have all happened at night,” Wen added. “The survivors have only seen the pirate vessels in the lights from their own yachts. It is entirely possible they have a larger boat waiting somewhere just out of view.”

  “I’ll keep trying to find a pattern for the attacks,” Heidi said. “There’s got to be a connection, whether it’s cargo, destination or timing. They can’t just be random.”

  “When we get closer, we can do reconnaissance in dolphin form,” Chiron added.

  There was a general murmur of agreement, but no one seemed to have anything more to add.

  Jake looked
around the crowded deck. The CD had stopped. Someone had lit a handful of candles in glass jars. Someone else had refilled all the wineglasses, and handed ones to Wen and Steve. The small space was packed with Jake’s friends—and his family. He wrapped his arm around Heidi’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’re all tired and we’re talking in circles. Tomorrow’s another day. Let’s relax a bit, and start working again in the morning, when we’ve had a chance to think and regroup.”

  “Perhaps Leta could sing something for us,” Marcos suggested. He turned to Jake. “Your sister has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

  “That would be great,” Jake said. He hadn’t heard Leta sing in almost eighty years. “Would you mind?”

  Leta shook her head, but not before Jake noticed she’d been making cow eyes at Wen. Oh hell, he was going to have to do something about that crush, wasn’t he? She was still his baby sister.

  “I love to sing,” Leta admitted. “Che, do you have a guitar on board?”

  Jake shook his head. Their father had played, and Jake had tried to learn as a way of remembering the man, but Leta had gotten all of the musical talent in the family.

  “Just a moment.” Steve vanished, then reappeared holding an acoustic guitar, which he handed to Leta.

  “Thank you.”

  She strummed the instrument, tuning it carefully, then launched into a song that took Jake back to his childhood. It was an old Spanish ballad their father had sung, and Jake found himself humming along under his breath. Heidi snuggled into his side and he felt the surge of her love and compassion flow across their empathic link. What had he ever done to earn this perfect moment of companionship and happiness?

  When Leta finished the plaintive ballad, Jake saw Heidi surreptitiously wipe away a tear. Even though he knew she hadn’t fully understood the lyrics, she’d somehow comprehended the message of the song. Leta accepted the smattering of applause that followed, then she launched into a love song—the soprano’s aria from a famous opera, and this time, instead of singing to the group as a whole, she stared straight at Wen, who began to squirm in his seat, looking more apprehensive than Jake had ever seen him.

  Niko gulped down the rest of his wine, then stood, stomping down to the swim deck. He dove into the water, then tossed his shorts back onto the boat and changed, swimming off with a flash of his powerful flukes.

  Marcos cast one glance at Myrrine, then shrugged. “I think I’ll join him. Chiron can take the second watch.” He too, climbed down to the swim deck, then disappeared into the waves.

  “Maybe it’s time for something a bit more upbeat,” Steve suggested when Leta finished. He reached for his guitar, which Leta handed him immediately. His fingers flew nimbly across the strings, spilling out the notes to Cheeseburger in Paradise.

  Heidi laughed and joined in, her voice untrained but clear. Soon Jake and Leta did as well, Jake not even trying for perfection, just laughing along with the others. By the time the song was done, even Wen and Myrrine were tapping their toes. Steve immediately launched into the opening chords of “Surfin’ USA,” and they kept on singing, for the next hour or so until they were all laughing and hoarse.

  “Well, folks, on that note, I think it’s time to hit the sack,” Heidi said with a yawn. “Wen, Steve, are you staying or going?”

  “Going,” said Steve. “Call me when you get to town tomorrow night.”

  “Staying,” said Wen, at the same time. “It’s a long flight back to the mainland.”

  Flight? Jake had always assumed Wen teleported, like Steve. He shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me. You and Chiron can fight over the hammock and the sleeping bag for the first watch, then rotate with Marcos and Niko later.”

  Wen nodded. “Excellent.”

  Heidi herded Leta and Myrrine toward the stairs. “See you tomorrow night, Steve. Thanks for coming out.” She stopped beside the wizard to kiss him on the cheek. Then she leaned down to plant one on Wen as well. “See you in the morning, Wen.”

  Jake tried not to laugh at the befuddled expression on Wen’s normally stoic face when Leta did the same.

  Once they’d gotten everyone else taken care of, Jake kissed Heidi good night and watched as she curled up on the couch, while he settled in on the recliner. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but every few minutes his eyes drifted open as he looked over toward the couch, as if just needing to reassure himself that she was there. After just a week or so of sleeping with Heidi, it didn’t feel right to sleep alone.

  “Jake?” After perhaps half an hour of silence, Heidi’s soft voice reached across the small room.

  He hoped he hadn’t kept her awake with his restlessness. “Yes?”

  “Meet you on the floor. I can’t sleep here by myself.”

  “Thank the gods.” Eagerly, he joined her on the rug in the center of the room. It took only a moment for them to curl up next to one another and pull the blanket over them both.

  “Love you,” she murmured with her cheek on his chest. “G’night.”

  “Love you too, Freya.” He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the warm, citrusy scent of her hair, then finally contented, he slept.

  * * * * *

  After an uneventful night and a long day of planning and computer work, the Siren pulled into Mission Bay late the following evening. Steve met them at the marina.

  “We’re pretty sure we’ve rounded up the last of Velasquez’s contacts,” he told Jake and Heidi. “You shouldn’t have any problems going back to your apartment.”

  “Other than a total lack of furniture,” Heidi said. “I’m thinking it’s more comfortable on the boat.”

  “I was thinking about a hotel,” Jake suggested. He glanced pointedly at Niko and Leta. “With separate rooms.”

  Wen had stayed with them until dark, then said he’d see them soon and vanished. Myrrine and her bodyguards had returned to their settlement near Catalina to make further arrangements. The idea was that Jake and Heidi would buy a larger boat, then Myrrine and her entourage would rejoin them and they would all travel south in that. Since the pirates almost inevitably preyed on large luxury yachts, they hoped to find one that had enough room but was inconspicuous enough to keep them from drawing too much attention.

  They planned to be in San Diego for two or three days to buy a boat and equipment, as well as making sure some of the merfolk knew how to operate it. No way did they want to hire a human crew. Ideally, they’d be heading for Mexico within the week.

  “A real hotel?” Heidi mused, her blue eyes laughing up at him. “With things like a hot tub and waiters and private bathrooms? I could be convinced.” One of the big disadvantages of the Siren was that there was only the one head. Things had been pretty cozy for the last couple days.

  “I arranged for some personal leave starting Friday,” Steve said. Today was Tuesday. “Told them I was going fishing with some friends down near Cabo. Didn’t say what we’d be fishing for.”

  “Good,” Jake replied. “You get to be first mate of the new boat when we find one.” Like Jake, the wizard had worked at a variety of careers around the Pacific for the last several decades. Steve was more than capable of operating anything in the water.

  “Oh goody,” Steve mused. “Do I get the cool hat and everything?”

  “Get us to a restaurant soon and I’ll buy it for you myself,” Heidi laughed. “I’m starving.”

  “First mate and chauffer,” Steve said with a bow. He nodded at his car, parked just a little way from the dock. “The limo awaits.”

  They all packed a couple nights worth of clothes first, then checked in to one of the harbor-side hotels before they actually found themselves at a casual Italian restaurant. Leta was anxious to try more varied human cuisine, so they skipped the seafood for a change. After dinner, Jake and Heidi lounged in the hotel’s courtyard spa for a bit, while a reluctant Niko escorted Leta to the on-site nightclub.

  “We should go up to the room before the others come upstairs,” Heidi murmured. Her
head rested on his shoulder as she gazed up at the stars.

  “I checked with the concierge,” Jake replied as he trailed his fingers lazily up and down her arm. “The walls are soundproofed. You can scream all you want.”

  “Mmmm.” She rubbed the back of her head against his chest while her fingers on his thigh began to inch upward toward the hem of his swim trunks. “Nice.”

  “Upstairs,” he managed, stopping that soft, questing hand with one of his own. “King-sized bed. Six-hundred thread-count sheets. Champagne from room service.”

  A giggle sounded from the pool area, separated from the hot tub by just a screen of plants.

  “And glorious privacy,” she added, scooting away from him to stand. “What are we waiting for?”

  “You,” he said as he took her hand and they speed-walked toward the elevator, wrapping the hotel robes around their damp swimsuits as they went. “All my life, I was just waiting for you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the first half of the next day, Heidi visited Brad in the hospital while Jake paid a call on his salvage broker. It was great to see Brad sitting up under his own power, now that he’d been moved from the ICU to a regular floor. He still had a private room though. Heidi didn’t ask if that was because of his parents, or if it had to do with the off-duty cop who still sat outside his door. While Steve had said he was fairly sure that all of Velasquez’s contacts had been rounded up, he still didn’t want to leave his star witness unprotected. That thought brought a moment of panic. Heidi would have to testify too, wouldn’t she? Oh hell, that was going to be a nightmare.

  However, she was here now with her friend, they were both alive, and that’s all that counted, she reminded herself. On the up side of things, now that their son was out of danger, Brad’s parents had left the hospital, only stopping in for a few minutes each day.