Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (26 page)

Since Tristan's return to Haverleau in November, I'd been very careful to avoid spending too much time alone with him. In New York, we'd spent only those few minutes at the brownstone before Julian arrived.

Being near him was both joy and pain, an infinite landscape of what was and could've been. A reminder of the life I might have had, wanted to have, if I'd had a different fate.

But wishing and hoping for something that couldn't be was foolish. And continuing these feelings I had for him was like picking at a scab when you knew it would hurt later.

Resolve tightened in my chest. I had to figure out how to work with him without this constant ache eating at me.

Time to grow up, Kendra.

I walked north along the coast, drawing upon the map I'd committed to memory last night. On my left, the Bering Sea stretched toward the horizon, a calm sheet of royal blue.

Outside the curve of the weather spell, chunks of ice floated, glinting brilliant white in the sun.

It was a stunning symbiosis of magic and nature.

The Armicant resided on the eastern slope of a mountain ridge cutting across the northern section of the territory. This was the fastest way there.

Ahead, the coast curved inland, creating the lagoon I'd first seen from the plane.

A familiar blonde stood on the gravel bed, observing the water's sparkling surface.

"What are you doing here?" Dax didn't turn around.

Irritation spiked. "How did you know it was me?"

"All of you sound like elephants stomping through our kingdom. The noise inside the palace is almost unbearable. You also have your own scent."

I resisted the urge to sniff my arm.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

"Exploring." I joined him and stared at the lagoon. Nothing. "Is this what you guys do for fun?"

"Renard is down there. I'm timing him."

"How long has he been there?"

"About two and a half hours."

Well, then.

"Is that long?"

"Slightly better than average. Technically, Eric..." He paused. "My brother, Eric, has the longest record. Six and a half hours."

"Technically?"

Cool eyes glanced at me. "He hasn't told you?"

If there was anything I hated more than people keeping things from me, it was insinuating they had info I didn't.

Julian pulled that crap all the time and it drove me crazy.

"Who hasn't told me what?" I said tersely.

"Tristan did seven hours and ten minutes during his gardinel trials."

"So why doesn't he have the record?"

"My father didn't want him to have it."

"What?"

Dax shrugged. "Eric's six and a half hours broke the previous record by a large margin. It was impressive and my father wanted people to believe the next king was impressive."

Outrage flooded me. My mother had often belittled my wins by telling me my performance wasn't good enough.

But she'd never denied me a victory or changed history.

"That's ridiculous! He had no right —"

"He's king. He has every right."

"So what happens now that Tristan's Crown Prince?" I asked. "Does he go in and change the records to reflect the truth?"

Dax frowned. "No. Now he wants people to remember Eric in a certain way. He was a great gardinel."

I don't know who he was trying to convince. Him or me.

"You have another brother," I pointed out. "And a lot of people think he's the greatest warrior ever."

"Yeah, but he doesn't care about power or if people know about his record. It doesn't bother him."

Tristan didn't seek out accolades or acknowledgments from others. He knew what he did and that was enough.

It was part of what I admired about him.

Empath carefully brushed against him. "You make it sound like a flaw."

Nothing except a slight exasperation, probably with my questions, and the usual touch of brotherly envy. All normal.

Conscience twitched a little, but I had to do my job. And that included the Belicouxs.

This time, Dax didn't sense my magic. "In our kingdom, strength is everything. I don't know what Tristan is like in Haverleau. But here, he should show who he is. The Warrior Prince."

I remembered Tristan's face in the Royal Gardens, the price he'd paid for his reputation.

"Do you know how your brother acquired that name?" I asked quietly.

He shot me a haughty look. "Over the course of two years, he killed more Aquidae than has ever been recorded by any gardinel in history."

"Do you think he wears that name with pride?"

"There is no greater honor than to serve in this war —"

"This is not about being a gardinel." I turned to him. "Being Warrior Prince is a constant reminder of everything he went through after Eric."

His face hardened. "You act as if you know my brother. You don't."

Unexpected pain lanced through me at his words.

"Tristan is a selkie, not a demillir or human. What do you know about sacrifice?"

Quite a bit, actually. But this wasn't about me.

"All I know is that ever since I've come here, I've gotten the strangest feeling everyone wishes Tristan were Eric."

Anger rolled across his eyes. "Don't speak of my family as if you know —"

A burst of sound flooded the plain.

Glittering shards of water flew through the air. A fleeting glimpse of blue-grey pelt, prehistoric limbs outstretched as if it were reaching for the sky.

The selkie flipped and plunged back down.

Dax looked at his watch. "Two hours forty-one minutes."

A white glow rippled beneath the surface of the water.

My throat tightened. It reminded me of Marcella's funeral.

A mop of black hair popped up. "How long?"

"Ten minutes behind me," Dax called out.

He muttered several long phrases in their language. A pale light, similar to Julian's Projection, shimmered around him, keeping his hair and skin dry.

He waded toward us and magic's glow began to fade.

"You might want to look away."

I frowned. "Why —"

Torso emerged from the water.

Oh.

I hastily spun and heard Renard emerge from the water behind me.

"So every time you shapeshift you lose your clothes?"

Marquisa LeVeq was going to have a heart attack.

"We don't discuss our ways with outsiders," Dax said coldly.

"It's okay," an amused voice said. "You can look."

I turned.

Renard wore a simple T-shirt and jeans. He had the same lean muscular build and white diamond
pedaillon
as Dax, but was an inch taller.

"Our clothes usually stay put," he informed me.

Dax looked like he wanted to strangle him.

"So why were you naked?"

"I took off all my clothes before I shifted. Most of us don't bother to do that and seal form emerges over our clothes. When we shift back, we have to come out of the water before our magic fades. Otherwise everything gets wet."

He gave a cocky grin. "But I like going commando."

"Good for you."

Dax bristled. "We didn't expect an ondine to come this way."

"I wanted to check out the Colbriand Waterfall."

"It's just over that ridge there." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why do you want to see it?"

It couldn't hurt to tell him. "Thought I'd visit the Armicant."

Renard's eyes widened. Dax shook with laughter.

"Something you want to tell me?"

Dax got ahold of himself. "Nope. Come on. We'll take you over."

They led me to a narrow trail winding around the base of the mountain ridge. Once we crossed over to the eastern slope, the landscape shifted.

Old, hungry magic brushed against me. Primal force pulsed through the air creating a terrain far different from the manicured gardens of the palace and Haverleau.

Tangled growth of branches and shrubs crawled across the ground. Braided lilac and fuchsia vines trailed up massive trunks and strange copper tendrils drifted toward me.

Air crowded in, humid and dank. Dense canopy of trees shut out the sun and darkness flourished. After twenty minutes of hiking through the underbrush, the trees gradually began to clear.

The forest ended at a pool, fed by a gentle sheet of crystal water trickling down the mountain.

Colbriand Waterfall covered a steep cliff of black rocks. Dax pointed to a shadowy cleft roughly twenty-five feet above ground. I could just make out the outline of the cave's opening through the water.

"That's where the Armicant lives. You want to visit him, you've got to get up there," he said smugly. "Sorry, but our land wasn't built for ondines."

I surveyed the terrain and made a few quick calculations.

"Not only can I get there," I said calmly, "I can get there faster than you."

Dax and Renard laughed. I didn't.

Selkies placed a lot of emphasis on strength.

I may not be able to match Dax's natural physical abilities. But I had agility, brains, and a Virtue that allowed me to be faster than expected.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. No challenge was more pleasurable than when someone underestimated me.

"You might want to rethink that," he said lightly. "Don't want the precious
sondaleur
to get hurt."

"And I wouldn't want precious Baby Belicoux to get his ass kicked by an ondine."

His smile disappeared. "Time limit?"

"Five minutes."

"Please. There's no way you can —"

"Are we on?"

He gave a slight bow and extended his hand with a flourish. "Ladies first."

I shook my head. "I'm not a lady. You first."

***

Ten minutes later, we'd stretched and agreed on a starting point at the farthest end of the pool.

Renard stood to the side, watch in hand, an amused glint in his eyes.

"Ready. Set." He paused. "Go."

Dax took off.

Although he was smaller than Tristan and still in the process of filling out, he moved with a similar kind of speed.

Nimble body gracefully arced through the air. He leaped onto the cliff face, fingers and toes holding his weight up against the sheer wall.

Just as I expected, he'd chosen to climb the rocks east of the waterfall and then make his way west to the cave.

It was the obvious choice. The east face contained multiple ledges and crevices, providing obvious holds for his hands and feet.

Knees bent, legs swung, and arms bulged as he pulled his body up a foot at a time.

Back muscles strained under his shirt. About five feet from the top, the ledge crumbled beneath his fingers.

Heart jumped into my throat.

Body hung off the rocks, held in place by the fingers of his right hand.

Using the momentum in the lower half of his body, he swayed back and forth, gradually increasing the speed and arc. With a final swing, he let go, left hand grabbing ahold of a cleft two feet above with perfect balance.

One easy reach and he pulled himself up to the narrow ledge behind the waterfall.

"Four fifty-eight," Renard called out.

Dax's smile was blinding.

I waved then went back to stretching my hamstrings.

"Gonna be hard to beat," Renard murmured.

"I'm hitting four forty." I pulled my arm across my chest. "Mark it."

He choked on his laughter.

My eyes never left that ridge.

I dropped into a runner's stance.

Fingers lightly touched the surface of the pool. Virtue unfiltered, magic gently flooding through me into the water.

"Ready."

Everything came into sharp relief.

Falling drops of water. Shifting leaves in the forest behind us. Sunlight warming the rocks.

"Set."

Water connected with Empath. It understood my request.

"Go."

I sprinted.

It was a risky strategy. The slant was steeper and I couldn't see what lay behind the water.

But the shortest distance was always a straight line.

At the western edge of the pool, I leaped into the waterfall and grabbed the rocks behind it.

Water rushed around me, respecting my space. Getting wet would've added extra weight and I needed to be as light as possible.

Slippery rocks cut against my hands. Fingers dug into tiny crevices, searching for purchase. Pain shot up my arms and legs, pressure straining every muscle.

Balance
.

Staying as close as possible to the wall, I imagined the wooden beam this morning. Weight shifted, feeling the contact between foot and rock, finding that elusive position where everything worked in harmony.

Center of gravity strengthened and movements smoothed. Hand flowed from one rock to the next, instinctively knowing with one to hold.

Rocks cut into my shins, gravel sank under my nails. Back, arms, legs, and abdomen screamed in protest.

But there was only that next hold.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled myself up the final two feet onto the ledge.

Water fell like a crystalline curtain around us.

"Four thirty-nine," Renard called out.

A flush crept up Dax's neck and irritation sparked in his eyes.

I might not have helped the Kendra fan club, but I'd made my point.

"Going behind the waterfall was risky."

"It was a calculated risk," I said. "The objective wasn't to show I could do it. It was just to do it."

He scowled. "Good luck talking to him. Don't expect help if you get your ass in trouble."

Before I could ask what he meant, he dove into the pool below.

Lovely. He'd inherited his father's charm.

Dank cavern yawned before me, faint light barely penetrating the oppressive gloom. Why would anyone want to live here?

I cautiously advanced. Sound of rushing waters gradually faded and the magic I'd sensed in the rainforest intensified.

Concentrated primitive energy raked against my skin like the tip of a blade.

Shuddering, I forced myself to move forward. Silver and fire perfumed the air and the humid heat drew sweat from my pores.

"An ondine."

The voice dripped directly into my head, slow and thick as if forming from the shadows. A flash of bright yellow briefly glittered in the darkness and then it emerged.