Fish Out of Water (21 page)

I finished his thought, remembering. “A place with no sound.”

“Yes. I’d always skirted it. It seemed so wrong. But when you said-”

“So you went there, today. The cave? That’s where you disappeared to?”

He rubbed his head as though trying to remember. “No. I-”

Never one to be left out of the limelight for too long, Rick started telepathing.

I don’t think he made it in. I was in the area and heard something. This crazy sound-

Carragheen interrupted at this.
I don’t remember hearing anything, just the pain
.

Rick again.
I guess it was like a dog whistle. Higher than you guys could hear, or a different pitch. Anyway, I found this one shortly after it started. He was unconscious. I took him on my back and got the hell outta Dodge
.

Amazing. How did Rick do it?
Didn’t it affect you? The thing, the weapon? The noise?

Rick considered this for a moment, his beautiful head on the side.
It hurt a little, but it was more an annoyance, you know. Like getting plankton in your ear. But your buddy here…
He gestured to Carragheen. …
seemed like he was pretty destroyed by it. He was seconds from death. I took him to DC til he came to, gave him some stuff to speed recovery
.

Wow, DC. Dolphin Central. Rick must have been worried. But why so much concern about an Aegiran? Dolphins like us, sure, but I’ve never known of anyone who got taken to DC.

There was some other agenda here, and I wanted in on it.
Okay, Rick, whassup?

Rick was working nonchalant.
Que?

I wasn’t having it.
Enough with the que, ’kay? I’ve had it up to here with your cryptic messages and now all this pretending you go around saving the ass of Aegirans every day. What’s in it for you guys?
Dolphins are nothing if not self-interested. And I get that. I mean, they have a right to be, I guess, being the most evolved species on the planet. So I wanted to know why Rick was breaking the habit of a lifetime for this one, admittedly very hot, guy.

Rick did this elegant little twirly dance, stalling. Eventually he spoke into my mind again.
We know there’s something going down. We didn’t like that blood in The Eye stunt. And we’re watching. We’re worried about the outcome
.

Something occurred to me, an echo of the prophecy, and I telepathed the question quickly and privately to Rick.
Is Carragheen one of The Three?

Rick laughed.
No way, babe. I’m not giving anything away, but I can tell you that none of The Three wear pants
.

Huh, so they’re all women. A lifetime of wondering about the prophecy, especially who the hell the three were, backed up inside me and led to this huge shudder of excitement. For thirteen years, I’d had a personal interest in the issue. And now this.

They know, the damned dolphins know.

I was trying to work out how to coax more detail out of Rick, figuring I’d need to corner him alone, when Carragheen interrupted.
I’m just grateful to Rick at this point
.

I snorted a little ungraciously as Rick made to leave, and heaved myself up to try to follow him, to drill him some more.

But Lecanora interrupted this time.
Rick, one more thing. I don’t suppose you could spare any of those special healing herbs you used on Carragheen? For Rania here
.

Rick looked at me then and I realized it was the first time since he’d arrived that he’d focused on me properly. That in itself was strange. We had a bond, me and Rick, but now I clocked that he had been in kind of a hurry to go the whole time he’d been there, at Carragheen’s place. He swam closer, placing one fin over my heart.
How badly are you hurt?

Lecanora answered for me.
She was seconds from death too. She’s still very sick
.

Even from where I was lying, I could see a nerve jumping at Carragheen’s jaw.

Rick uttered a squeak that could have been fury or frustration (my dolphin lingo had never been that hot) and spat a lump of something disgusting from his mouth into Lecanora’s hand.
Small portions, hourly. She’ll be fine to travel in a few hours
.

I raised my head.
Who says I’m going anywhere?

Rick sniggered like only a smartass dolphin can.
Oh, babe, you’re talking to a dolphin. Don’t you know by now that we know things?
And with that, he was gone.

Before I could say “hang on, what does it taste like?” the Princess was coming towards me with the half-masticated glob from inside Rick’s mouth.

I’m sure I’ll be just fine without it
, I telepathed feebly at her, imploring with half-dead eyes. I never did like taking medicine.

She wasn’t having it.
Swallow
.

I considered saying that wasn’t a polite thing to say to a lady but there were a few problems. First, I’d never considered myself a lady. Second, she wouldn’t get it. And third, my Mom was in the room. So I did as I was told. There was a first time for everything, and I was too weak to argue. It tasted dreadful, worse than I would ever have imagined some half-regurgitated piece of who-knows-what from the inside of a dolphin’s mouth could taste.

And believe me, I’ve got a pretty good imagination.

But almost instantly I felt the mire of aches and bruises start to lift. I felt suddenly very sleepy. I would never have imagined that I could take a nap with all this psycho stuff whizzing about my brain, but I was just being pulled gently into the most enticing of sleeps when I heard Lecanora, Mom and Carragheen talking about who was going to stay with me.

“Lecanora, I’m sorry. You need to go to your mother. Rania will understand. The Queen cannot be alone right now, you must be her constant companion. Remember what I said. Prepare all her food and drink for her. And look for anyone who seems worried by that.”

Lecanora sighed. “I know you’re right. But I’m scared to leave Rania. Will you stay?”

“For a little while,” Mom replied. “Then I have some things I need to do.”

Something in my almost-asleep brain triggered an alarm bell. No way did I want my Mom turning over rocks solo. I heard Carragheen growl out a contribution. “Those herbs Rick gave me were amazing. I’m feeling better all the time. I’ll stay here. You must go.”

I knew Mom well enough to read the hesitation in her. “What about your other responsibilities, Carragheen?”

His voice was clear and deep. “I can take care of her, Lunia. And I will.”

She agreed so quickly I wondered if he did to her whatever the hell he did to that Treppalow a few hours ago. “Yes. Okay then. I’ll be back in the morning, a few hours. We’ll leave then, if she can hydroport.”

The last thing I remembered before dropping off the edge into the most satisfying of sleeps was being picked up and carried by strong, strangely comforting arms. I snuggled like a child into a chest too warm for a merman. And then I was bumping against that hard chest as I was carried away. My last thought was that this wouldn’t be such a bad place to go to sleep.

Day Four: Five Hours Later
Carragheen’s Quarters

I didn’t know how long I’d slept, but I felt delicious as I stretched awake. It seemed impossible that I had ever been ever blasted half to death by some creepy sound weapon. The last time I felt this good was after six months of yoga classes.

My mind was sharp and focused, and my body felt like I could run a marathon.

Man, what the humans would give for some of those dolphin drugs. I started to mentally calculate the street value of the glob of spit-encased weed I’d taken from Rick, and fantasized about getting into a new line of work. ‘Course I’d need to work on the packaging…

And then, even before I opened my eyes, I heard them.

“Of course I knew of her, from the choir. Who didn’t know of her? Rania, daughter of Lunia, child of both land and sea. But we hadn’t met. Until recently.”

I was roused by the sound of his voice drifting in from somewhere close by. It was more than just its erotic edge, how the gravel raked my spine and sent little shivers infinitely lower.

The voice was familiar to me, like the slippery edge of a moment of déjà vu. Like a half-remembered memory from a dream. The thought made me frown. I thought about white stallions and orange sunsets.

Don’t go there.

His voice awakened something else in me too. Something beyond the memories of a crazy dream. I thought about The Eye, his instinctive protection of us and the Leigon child. I thought about how he had tried to keep the choirgirls out of trouble. And how he had risked everything blindporting to Dirtwater to learn the truth about Cleedaline.

He protects people. And he’s a loner.

Like me.

I tried to work out how long I had known this man, tried to count the hours. I’m not one for all that love-at-first-sight crap, and if I was, I certainly wouldn’t be buying into it with some cheating liar. But this guy sure was one confusing cheating liar.

And this was certainly something-at-first-sight.

I strained to catch more of the conversation, as the other voice answered him.

“I remember her too. Fierce and fast. Full of bad language and new ideas.” This second voice was familiar to me. It was soft and pretty. I wanted to protest the harsh denunciation of me, but then the voice sighed and went on. “I liked her very much.”

He laughed, deep and sweet. “I hadn’t seen her for… ten years? Longer? But then, the last decade has been kind of a blur.”

He laughed again, but this time in a way that was too bitter and I sensed rather than heard her reach for him. “What is it, what is happening between the two of you?”

A heartbeat’s pause before he responded. “Nothing.”

“Oh, my son, I know that you are unusual among us, in that you can lie, when you need to. But do not think I am a fool. You cannot lie to me.”

And then it hit me. Ran help me, it was Shighsa. His Mom.

He spoke softly, but with a quiet fury. “She sets me alight.”

My legs turned to jelly at his words, and an echoing burn began at the centre of me.

“Oh.” His Mom sounded sad.

He laughed that bitter laugh again. “But I have enough on my conscience.”

I sensed her reach out to him again. “What is on your conscience, my love? Is it Leisen?”

“Some things are hard to explain. Even to you. But things are happening, Mama. There are some things I need to do. And I need to do them alone.”

“I heard about what happened here today. The mob. I worry for you.”

“Did he send you?” Carragheen’s voice was tight and strained.

“No.” She answered swiftly and I heard her anger. And then something infinitely softer, born of a lifetime of devotion. “But he is your father. He–”

Huh, she loves that SOB Kraken. She loves him very much
.

His voice was soft. “You love him very much, don’t you?” Snap. Wow, that was weird.

“Of course.” The sweet voice sounded infinitely vulnerable. “I know you two have not always been as one, but he is very concerned right now. The settlers are very anxious. The… blood… has terrified them. Spare a thought for him as he tries to keep us on the path of right.”

Then something strange happened. Something that happens very rarely, and only when someone is trying hard to hide a thought from another. A thin portal opened up into Carragheen’s mind. He was working so hard to shield his thoughts from his mother that he wasn’t guarding them carefully enough from others. It surprised me so much I almost squeaked as I tried to understand. And then I got it. He thought I was deep in sleep, and that no-one else was around. He thought he was safe.

I shouldn’t have listened in, of course, but I’m just not noble enough to stop myself.

I could hear with absolute clarity what he was thinking as he spoke to his mother:

Imagine, to be loved like that. A man like my father. She understands him. Who could ever understand my choices?

And then I drifted off again.

My eyes fluttered open again and I recognised the melody, different underwater, different in the Aegiran language, yet unmistakeable.

My stomach clenched, somewhere between fascination and dread as the love song worked its magic. It was being sung slower than the original, more like a lullaby, but there was no mistaking the tenderness wrapped around each note.

And no mistaking the voice. Soft, slow and infinitely sexy.

I was up instantly, following the sound, my cop sense telling me this wasn’t going to be good. As I weaved between golden arches into the sleeping space close by, I almost forgot the delicate skill of water breathing again and choked on my own breath as those deep, dark vocals caressed the next line.

Sweet Jesus. Or, more accurately Sweet Child O’ Mine. Axel Rose at his dreamy best.

I saw the child reclining against his chest, gazing up at Carragheen as he sang her to sleep. His face was so open as he gazed down at her that once again I caught a glimpse of how he must have been as a child. Less wolf, more trusting cub. I watched for a few minutes, conscious of my invasion but caught off guard by the private moment.

Then the golden wolf’s head snapped up, his arm drawing around the tiny blonde slip protectively. It made my heart thump wildly in my chest and emptied the bottom from my stomach. I couldn’t help thinking that somehow he was more Bon Jovi than Axel Rose, but that wasn’t my main problem with the performance. So tender. And yet such a liar.

How did I make sense of this man?

I fled, swimming like a tsunami, my head filled with plans of escape before I collapsed, spent, back on the bed I had made for myself and closed my eyes.

It was less than a second before I felt him join me.

My brain willed me not to open my eyes but I did it anyway. And there he was, sitting beside the bed and watching me with an inscrutable expression on his sensual face.

“How do you feel?” His indigo eyes were looking right into me.

I return his query. “How do
you
feel?” After all, he apparently got hit with the thing too, maybe not as bad as me, but he still got a blast. Not bad enough to stop him serenading his daughter, I reminded myself.