by Maira Dawn
She slumped and laid her head on the steering wheel. This couldn't be it for her. It just couldn't be. She gave herself a minute, then lifted her head and straightened in her seat.
After putting the car in drive, Sonora sniffed the salt air. She needed to sink below the waves, just for a little while. A smile tugged at her mouth as she pointed the car down the hill toward the beach.
Two
Tormentors
Chapter Two
Ian's footsteps thudded over the hard pavement of the full parking lot. He shot a glance over his shoulder. The men chasing him were doing better than he would have guessed. They'd been panting within a minute of giving pursuit.
Ian wasn't all that surprised when they drew their guns and started to fire. Ian heard the zip of one, then two bullets go by him. He ducked behind a large, blue truck and leaned back against the tire.
A bullet clinked, bouncing on the hard surface beside Ian. He clenched his fist. No, not bullets, tranquilizer darts. They didn't want him dead. They wanted him alive. To take him apart, see what he was made of. Ian's heart pounded twice against his sternum as a warning to drag in another breath. Only a small one, he reminded himself, the oxygen-rich air would make him dizzy.
Adrenaline-fueled, Ian wove through the parked cars, using them as shields. Up ahead, the trail split, the left side heading down to the beach. The other up to the ocean overlook, to the cliff they called Spire.
More people were on the Spire path. That cemented Ian's decision. Surely, they wouldn't fire into their own people.
Ian stopped behind a van and shielded himself from another spray of darts. He quickly pulled off his t-shirt, jeans, and shoes, leaving only the swimwear he wore under it. Ian's brilliant clan tattoo caught the sun and gleamed, causing more than a few curious glances. Or perhaps, it was the sheen of his skin. It always shimmered in the sun more than theirs did.
Moving from the relative safety of the truck, he sprinted up the cliff path. The popping of the gunshots continued behind Ian as he pushed through a large group of people. Ian shook his head. So, they would shoot into a crowd. Apparently, the goons thought the worst that would happen was that some citizen would take a long nap.
Ian's bare feet dug deeper into the rocky soil as he worked for more speed. Worse than a nap would happen to him. Ian’s stomach churned as an image of his friend's broken body floating on the waves flashed through his mind. He shoved it away. There was no time to dwell on that now.
People screamed as they ran for cover. One dark-haired woman stumbled and fell, unconscious. A yellow-tipped dart stuck out of her neck.
Ian's eyes narrowed. Isare! Tormenters. They feared nothing, that's how much they wanted him.
Ian felt exposed as he sped along the bare path. The trail was wider than a truck, and the men could easily see him now that most of the people had found safety.
The sun beat down on Ian's too-dry body. He'd been above water too long, but he had been so close. After years of searching, he'd almost had the traitor.
Another thunk, brought him back to the problem at hand. The men's aim was improving. A dart bounced off a rock, inches from Ian, spurring him on the final few yards.
They wanted to see what he was made of? He'd show them.
As Ian began to run out of ground, he sped up instead of slowing. Sightseers gasped from their hiding places in low brush as he took to the air with a harsh shout, jeering at the men chasing him. Mid-leap, Ian maneuvered into a perfect forward dive, intentionally twisting in a spiral as he dropped down the sheer face of the five-hundred-foot cliff.
Two more tranquilizers tumbled past Ian as he descended. The men above stopped, standing helplessly at the top of the cliff. With a smirk, Ian made a clean cut through the ocean's surface and disappeared from view.
Three
Spire Cliff
Chapter Three
Sonora stood facing the vast, rolling ocean, her feet almost ankle-deep in the sandy beach. Her long, blonde hair swept her back and arms as it blew in the gentle wind. Sonora raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun's brightness and trailed each wave as it pushed onto the shore and pulled back away again as if teasing her.
Sonora forced her mind to happier thoughts, chasing away the unfortunate events of her workday. She'd call Bob once she was calmer. Hopefully, he was in a forgiving mood. Sonora smiled as she inhaled the salty air, glad to be away from the clash of dishes and instead, near the water even if she couldn't explore as much she would have liked.
As usual, her optimistic nature was quick to come to the forefront. A smile had been her most common expression since the day she was born. So much so that by the time she was two-years-old, her mother nicknamed her Sunny, and it had stuck.
Sonora pulled her feet from the holes they had dug in the sand and took a few steps forward, dipping her toes in a warm little pool left behind by the outgoing tide. Standing on one foot, she swirled the other in the water for a moment as she returned her gaze to the ocean waves as the latest set gently whorled onto the shore. The water was so calm today. It would be a good day for some snorkeling.
Sonora tipped her face up to the heat of the sun, allowing it to wash over her, thankful for the good things of the day and ignoring her desire for expensive diving equipment. This was her favorite place, where she went to breathe out the stress of the day and inhale the calmness and serenity permeating this ancient place. Undoubtedly, hundreds of generations had come here for the same reason she did. Something about that felt right.
Her eyes roamed to her right, from the edge of the shore, up to where the reddish Spire Cliff towered over the light-colored beach. At the top of its rocky height, she could see a few sightseers taking their leave and walking the short trail back to the parking lot.
At five-hundred feet tall, Spire Cliff was a relic, the last holdout of solid stone on this sandy oceanfront. At odds with the gentle nature of the low country around it, the cliff was beautifully defiant, standing tall where it should not be.
The South and West sides sloped sharply, but a moderately adventurous person could climb the seagrass-covered banks.
The East and North side, however, offered an entirely different view. Two sheer rock faces, the east rising straight from the ocean that battered it day and night, while the final wall sat beside the seemingly endless beach that ran northward. The Spire's red color was more reminiscent of the ruddy Georgia clay than the tawny sand around it.
So mismatched was Spire Cliff from the surroundings, it had once been a tourist attraction which drew people from several states away. Now though, it was often labeled a landmark rather than an attraction. Still, most people stopped and stared in surprise, if not actual fascination, of its wild beauty.
"Did you hear what happened here yesterday?" said a female voice uncomfortably close to Sonora’s shoulder.
Lost in her own thoughts, she startled. Sonora gave a small yelp and almost tripped over a little pile of sand. "No," she said, turning toward the dark-haired woman while trying to take a small inconspicuous step backward. "What happened?"
"Some guy jumped off Spire Cliff. Just jumped right off into the water. I heard he did some fancy dive and everything," the woman said, waving her arm in the air. The woman leaned toward Sonora as if gossiping about a naughty neighbor.
Sonora shook her head. The few who had tried to dive it hadn't survived. "Why would he do that?"
"Well." The woman held Sonora in suspense for a moment, then lowered her voice. "Some other guys were shooting at him, is what I heard. Not cops though, so ya gotta wonder what's up with that. But some people swear they saw him swimming off, so maybe he made it." The woman shrugged her shoulders but seemed somewhat hopeful he had survived.
"But how...?" Sonora muttered as she turned and lifted her eyes back up to the top of the enormous cliff. She shivered, remembering a day she'd held a friend’s hand and leaned out over the edge on a dare. It would take an extraordinary man to even think of attempting a jump.
/> But the dark-haired woman was on to other concerns. "Why random people can go around shooting guns at a perfectly peaceful beach is what I want to know! Since when is that a thing? If the guy is a criminal, police should have been involved! And if he isn't, well then, who were the people shooting? That's what I want to know."
Sonora agreed as she turned back to the woman. Sonora looked to the right and left only to find she had gone as abruptly as she had come. Sonora giggled to herself. The woman was likely off to spring the news on another unsuspecting beach bum.
Sonora plopped down on the sand and grabbed up a handful. Staring at the rolling ocean, she recalled the many times her mother teased her over her love of the sea. Too much for someone named after the desert, she'd always said. Sonora snorted. It might be true. Her entire family took every beach opportunity they could, but Sonora outdid them all.
From the time she was small, Sonora had plied her Aunt Claire, who worked at the local Marine Center and Museum, with questions. She had followed Claire around, churning out inquiries until her aunt would take her little face in her hands and gently squeeze her cheeks and plead for her to stop.
When Sonora started driving, she spent long after-school hours either in the water or the Marine Center in spite of her friends’ pleas, and jeering, over her resistance to join them at their many parties.
Now she worked as hard as she could to save money for college. Her whole life had been about getting into that water, and somehow she’d make it her career.
Sonora stood and brushed the sand off herself. She would reapply for financing and make a better budget when she got home, saving every penny, no matter how long it took. Until then, she'd be content with snorkeling. It was free and always an adventure. What treats would it hold for her today?
Four
The Shadow
Chapter Four
Sonora waded into the water, anticipating the force of the warm waves before they banged against her legs, swirling around her. She wiggled her toes and adjusted her stance for the gritty sand's slow suction under the soles of her feet.
Sonora startled at a long form to her left. Smaller fish were the norm in this area. Maybe the thing was only a piece of driftwood. She took a step toward it, and it sped away. Sonora frowned. Not driftwood then. Perhaps a sea turtle?
Sonora glanced over her shoulder, the way the fish had swam away. She smiled when she saw the quick flash of a sleek, grey dolphin rolling in a wave just a few feet away from her.
Sonora brought her mask close to her lips, and gathering some saliva, spat into the goggles. She wiped the spit around the glass with her finger, getting all the edges so her view wouldn't be obstructed. After adjusting both the mask and snorkel to her face, Sonora took a few steps and slid into the sea. As the water smoothed over her body and enfolded her, she moved from one world and into the next. All the weights and cares of the topside washed away, to be forgotten during Sonora’s precious hours below.
She dove, investigating the small sea creatures around her, coming up only when she needed air. Sonora listened for the hollow thunk of water leaving her snorkel, before taking a breath and again retreating into the muffled ocean below.
After a while she rose to float, bouncing lightly with the sun-warmed water as tiny ripples rolled like silk over Sonora's shoulders and down her back, while others teased her feet.
A small group of colorful little fish darted here and there below her on their endless quest for food, while other larger species slowly swam into one side of her field of vision and out the other. A little crab scurried across the ocean floor on a mission known only to him. Sonora almost chuckled. This was better than TV.
After diving to the shallow ocean floor, Sonora examined some treasures the small reef provided. She picked up the little crab, and he fearlessly tried to pinch her thumb, which was twice as big as him. Sonora let him think he won and settled him back on the sandy floor where a half-buried starfish lay. After waving the remaining sand off the creature, she gave it a few light strokes.
Sonora avoided the colorful coral, but stroked and gently prodded what was safe as she kicked her way from one area to another. To her right, a school of fish startled and swam to the deeper part of the ocean. It seemed darker than it should be. Sonora looked above her and filled with disappointment. She'd been down here longer than she thought. It was time to go home.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. The shadow. The same one she’d seen for three days in a row now. Sonora narrowed her eyes. She'd been curious at first, but now she was getting a bit worried.
The first day, the shadow was no more of a flash, and Sonora had talked herself into thinking it was only a trick of the light. The second day, it hovered behind her. When she turned, the shadow quickly disappeared, but she still hadn't been too worried. It could've been a shy fish.
But a third day? A third day of a shadow purposely staying out of her line of sight? This was no longer some random incident, nor was it the behavior of fish. This was the behavior of humans, most likely some creeper. Despite the warm water, a chill shot down Sonora's spine.
How long had this been going on?
There may be a beach full of people above her, but down here, Sonora was alone. She looked at her empty hands and the deep water surrounding her. For the first time in Sonora's life, she felt a threat while in her beloved sea.
Wanting to know who followed her, Sonora tensed to swing toward the shadow. Before she made a move, it was gone like a flash of light, as if it knew her plan. The same way it had disappeared the last two days.
Sonora tried to relax. If it followed the same pattern, that would be the last she would see of it today. She surfaced and cleared her snorkel. Sonora admired the sun sitting low on the horizon, and with a heavy heart, started swimming for shore.
Five
Jata Ara
Chapter Five
Keeping to the shadows, he watched as the woman turned and kicked her way back to shore. She was out later today than usual; it would be dark soon. It was good he'd been here to watch over her. She had a habit of coming to the water by herself. He didn't like it. It could be dangerous for humans.
Her long, blonde hair rippled in a fan behind her. It reminded him of the sun's rays shining down from the world above.
Something about the woman drew him to her over and over again. At first, he'd rebelled, but soon thoughts of her drove everything else from his mind. He knew what the stories said, what his parents to his great-great-grandparents and as far back as he could remember would call the person who drew him.
What would she call it? Mate, partner, consort, spouse, wife, lover. But those were human terms. They didn't measure how deeply his people felt about the one they spent their life with. They knew all those words, but also more. And for that reason, in his language, they called their mates Jata Ara, or as humans would say Intended, from the moment they met them.
For humans, intended merely meant a person they planned to marry. He scoffed at that definition. There was so much more to it than that. Jata Ara meant the person you were purposed to be with, someone who matched you flawlessly, who was undeniably, unquestionably, yours. One's true partner.
And his people quickly recognized their Intended. One look was all it could take. Some called it the Valltrik or Knowing. Why his people had this ability, they weren't entirely sure. Though it was thought their people had developed an extreme kind of empathy.
But what would he know? He'd searched for decades and never found his Intended. Most men found theirs within a year or two of searching, but not him. Even though he had scoured all the kingdoms of the sea. Although he had met many lovely women, he had never known a pull to one specific person, never felt that knowing that someone was indisputably his. So, even as he watched friend after friend find their Intended, he had stopped believing.
Until now. All the old ones had told him not to give up, that his time would come, and when she was found, it would be life-changing. Th
ey were right. This connection had been instant—deep and sharp at the core of his being. This woman belonged with him.
But there was a problem. His eyes trailed the girl as his chest tightened. He swallowed hard, still unable to believe what was happening.
A true mate came from the sea, always.
Not human, not ever. Never in all the legends, in all the stories, did someone like him ever have a human Jata Ara. In cautionary tales, his people may settle for humans on a rare occasion, but they never had a real bond. Hence, the cautionary part of the tale.
And yet here he was looking at a human. He grimaced, wondering why he didn't flee. Not that he wasn't human, he was, but his kind were superior. The same model but with extra abilities. Atlantian.
And she was... just human. He almost pitied the young woman. The Atlantian ran a hand over his face. Just look at her.
He straightened. He needed to seek the girl's good qualities. If she was his Jata Ara, there had to be a reason.
She was lovely to look at, there was no doubt about that. Her body was lithe and her long, silky hair billowed around her in the water. Although the Atlantian hadn't been very close to her, if he wasn't mistaken, her eyes were a bright blue. She seemed healthy enough, but she was so small compared to Atlantian women. And that wasn't the only problem.
The Atlantian winced. That clumsy way she propelled through the water. Tiny Atlantian children moved better than that. He tipped his head. Was that even called swimming?
He groaned as the woman prodded another sea creature. What was she doing now? Doesn't she know that could be bad for it?