Night Forbidden (28 page)

Another very odd thought.

They swam out of REI and he started toward the remnants of Home Depot . . . but then Ana stopped up short and grabbed for him. Fence saw it too: a faint bluish glow just beyond the jut of some block of sea stone.

He flipped off his light and reached for Ana’s as well, his instincts going sharp.

Their lights went dim and the world returned to a darker one, tinged with Ana’s pale blue glow, as they hovered for a minute. Waiting.

When the figure came into view, Ana froze and reached for Fence’s arm. Her fingers curled tightly over him as a man approached.

Her heart was pounding, for she recognized him.

Darian.

It was impossible to hide, for he’d already spotted them—either due to the flashlights or the natural illumination from Ana’s crystals, and he was swimming toward them.

Fence tried to hold her back, but Ana shook her head and quickly spelled
Darian, contact,
on his palm. She felt his hesitance and the tension riding up along his arm, but there was no other opportunity for communication.

Found the stones
, Ana signed to Darian as he approached.

Expected you would. But not so quickly. Surprised me.

She frowned, watching him closely. His expression was difficult to read, and she saw his eyes shift to Fence, then back to her . . . and then behind them. She whipped around to look, but saw nothing in the darkness.

Yet something in Darian’s demeanor tripped concern deep inside her, and she eased her knife from its sheath, holding it out of sight. Fence must have felt her movement and comprehended, for he eased a bit closer, as if to help hide the blade. She could feel his tension and realized he would have no idea what they were talking about through their sign language.

Think that I would really go back to Atlantis?
she signed to Darian.

Yes. Hoped you would. Better than this.

Again she didn’t understand what he was getting at, but he did nothing . . . just hovered there, looking at her.

Needed to lure you away,
he told her.
Looked for you for years
.

Something lodged in the pit of her stomach, and that was when she realized that he’d never been honest with her. Even when he professed to love her, he’d never been honest.

Fence seemed to recognize the change in her, and drifted even closer. She could feel his muscles gathering up, ready, and she shot him a warning glance she hoped he could interpret in the faulty light.

I stopped the tidal wave,
she told Darian.

He didn’t look pleased.
Knew you would try. You were not supposed to get here in time. Too quick. Should not have waited for you when you said you would meet me.

And that was when the other piece fell into place. A violent shiver caught her by surprise. He’d told her about the Goleths in order to trick her into trying to stop them.

In order to trick her into coming far enough away from safety—from land—so he could . . . what?

Convince her to go back to Atlantis?

Until that moment, she still believed he didn’t truly mean her any harm. That he truly wanted her help to save their race. But now she saw the truth in his eyes.

This whole thing
, she gestured in the direction of the Goleths,
to get me here?

He shrugged, and she saw his gaze flicker to the right. Fence spun to look, the surge of water thrusting her away. Still holding her knife, she looked in the other direction.

Nothing. She turned back to Darian as Fence continued to hover, surveying the area around them. He might not exactly comprehend the conversation, but he obviously understood the basics.

The Atlanteans would have destroyed a whole city just to get me back?
Ana signed with hands that had suddenly turned cold and stiff.

Do anything to survive.

A chill zipped down her spine, and she and Fence looked up at the same time.

Something dark whipped through the water, a big, heavy net weighted with stones.

It settled over her, but Fence dodged quick enough so it missed him. His face was a dark, furious mask as he turned to face the two large men who’d emerged from behind a dark wedge of cracked wall. Their crystals glowed so dimly, Ana realized they’d somehow hidden them beneath cloth or wrappings as they waited for their chance to attack.

All through these observations, she was slashing violently at the net with her knife, thankful she’d been prepared.

Yet she couldn’t fully extricate herself before Darian was there, wrapping the net more tightly around her, twisting it around so that even with her knife she couldn’t cut through it fast enough.

The net bound her so closely she couldn’t raise the knife or bring it down, and with a sharp movement Darian grabbed her wrist and twisted.

She cried out, her screams eerily silent in the depths, and dropped the weapon as he wrapped the last trailing piece of net around her. Then tucking her under his arm like a rolled up carpet, he launched himself off into the dark water, taking her away from Fence.

Chapter 20

T
hey had Ana.

Fence saw the man—Darian—swim off with the bundle that was Ana.

He darted after them, his insides going cold and sharp, but he found his way blocked by the two large figures who’d dropped the net. Crystals glowed brightly at their midsections, and for the first time he saw that one of them held a long, slender black thing studded with three tiny lights, curling in the water.

Instead of trying to dodge them, Fence propelled himself straight on, smashing into them with every bit of force he had, noting in the back of his mind that obviously neither had played football.

As the one with the whip spun away, the other flailed back in a ribbon of bubbles, then darted around and grabbed Fence’s leg. He ducked, somersaulting down and back toward his assailant as he gave a powerful, snapping kick. Water, he found, made him a lot more acrobatic than on land.

He twisted, banked right then left, and shot away just as that slender black thing snaked through the water. Fence dodged its tiny glowing crystals but felt the snap of something like a shock as it flashed past him. He crashed into something hard and metallic as he dodged, and felt rust and grit crumbling against his skin. The whip came again, and, infuriated, Fence darted straight toward the other assailant again. As he connected with his target, something burned over his shoulder—hot and sharp in the cold sea. He felt the shock zap through his body as he slammed his opponent into the corner of an old building.

Fence’s muscles shivered, now slow and clumsy from the shock, but he was fast enough to spin around and use the man as a shield while the whip snaked silently through the sea again. Blood clouded the water, dissipating in a dark cloud as Fence gripped the man’s arm to swing him around one more time. But his muscles were slower and less graceful, and they faltered, leaving him floundering awkwardly against a wall.

Something surged up toward him. He ducked, trying to turn, but was propelled forward with great force—shoved violently into the side of a big old truck by a pair of feet. The metal door handle smashed into his temple in a flurry of bubbles and more dark blood.

Pain blasted through his head, and his world darkened and shifted as he tried to recover, gasping for breath, disoriented. But the assault came from the other side now as both of his attackers slammed against him once more.

He tried to pivot, but something held him there, four hands, pounding into him, smashing his head into the rusted edge of the vehicle, feet kicking and pummeling, the sharp sting down his back, over and over. Trapped against the metal, unable to turn, he tried to kick up behind him, tried to twist around, but they were too strong and had the advantage as his head spun, nausea gathering in the back of his throat, his muscles shocked and weakened.

Then all at once Fence realized he was
at the bottom of the ocean.

Heavy. Dark. Cold.

He fought back, tried to keep the thoughts at bay, but his murky mind was twisted and the panic edged closer.

No
.
Stop.

Something stung him again, right over the top of his right gill, and he dodged, fighting hysteria.

Not there, not there, not there . . .

The darkness threatened to pull him in, and he became slower and sluggish as madness teased at the corner of his mind, pain driving him into paralysis.

When strong arms came around him from behind, covering his gills and tightening around his torso, Fence knew this was it.

Someone else smashed his forehead into something hard and the darkness wavered, strong and beckoning as pain reverberated through him again.

His gills were closed, the arms of his assailant still tight, choking and smothering him, and Fence felt his lungs tighten, restricting, trying to move. Trying to breathe.

At the bottom of the ocean.
Underwater. Underwater.

Panic rose, red and black flashed in his vision, battling him as he fought blindly, his movements desperate and futile.

Not here, not here, can’t breathe, can’t breathe . . . help . . . help me.

Then all at once he remembered: Ana.

They had Ana.

They were taking Ana.

He was going to save her.

The thought settled over him, almost peacefully . . . and then everything else was gone. Cold fury replaced the hot, red hysteria. The pain faded into determination. His brain began to function, and he realized he was still taking some air in through his stifled gills.

He made himself go limp, sagging against the truck even as the arms tightened around his torso. Tighter.
Tighter
.

He fought to remain still and soft, to keep his breathing shallow and unnoticeable . . . and then as the vise tightened further, he had to hold his breath. Wait. Wait.

Ana. I’m coming. I’ll be there.

The moment his attacker loosened his grip, Fence swung into action. He spun around, taking his assailant by surprise, and slammed him into the truck door once, twice, then heaved his limp body up and through the jagged-glassed window.

Blood streamed into the water like dark smoke, and he turned just in time to see the black cord snapping toward him once more. Fence dodged, still clumsy, but managed to avoid all but the very tip of the whip . . . and then he launched himself toward his assailant. This time he butted the man in the gut with his head, and, furious and coldly desperate, didn’t ease up before pummeling him with his fists in a swirl of bubbles.

One good smash to the gut and he was able to snatch the whip from the man’s hand, and as he looked up, Fence realized all at once that they were close . . . very close . . . to the shimmery barrier.

He didn’t hesitate, but threw the whip to the side. As his attacker dodged for it, Fence grabbed him and flung him at the barrier.

On land the man would have flown through the air in a great, smooth arc . . . but here in the water, he sort of tumbled and floundered . . . and tried to stop himself by kicking out, swiping his hands through the water.

But he was too late. It took only the tip of his foot to break through the wavering curtain, and as Fence watched, the man jolted, convulsed once, and then dropped limply to the sea floor.

Motherfucker.

If he’d had any thoughts about trying to chance his way through that barrier, they were now gone.

Just as quickly as that reality sunk in, his focus went back to Ana, and the direction they’d taken her. On the other side of the barrier.

Fence darted off back toward the small dark valley he and Ana had slipped through before. They had to be bringing her back to Atlantis, and he’d find a way to catch up to them. The only illumination now that the crystalled men were gone was a faint glow from the shimmering wall. As he shot along, staying close to the ground so he wouldn’t miss the passage, he noticed little smudges of the sparkling gray glop in the dim light, as if someone had reached out and touched objects at eye level as they went along.

Ana. She’d left a trail for him.
Smart.
A little bit of his tension eased.

But when Fence found the little dip in the ground, it was filled with the shimmering curtain.

He stopped short, staring in disbelief at the tiny gray glop at its edge.

It was closed. They’d blocked him. He couldn’t get through.

A
na slid her fingers over her belly again, and when she pulled them away, they were slick with the gray glop. She reached out and unobtrusively touched the side of an algae-covered car as Darian pulled her along.

After the netting had caught on more than one object, and made her a heavy burden, he’d extricated her from it once they were past the wavering barrier. He’d also done something to change the force field to block the passageway. Ana noted that he didn’t seem to have any concern for his companions, the ones Fence was battling—leaving them trapped on the Envy side as well.

Yet another indication of Darian’s true loyalties.

Now, he towed her through the water as she did everything in her power to slow them down: dragging her feet, widening her legs and body, making her shape anything but hydrodynamic.

All at once Darian came up short, stopping in the middle of an open space. The remnants of twenty-first century civilization echoed around them in tilted, dark, and ruined eruptions. Still gripping her arm with bruising fingers, he scanned the area and she felt his tension.

Let me go.
It was hard to sign with one hand, but she managed. And then she swiped her fingers on her abdomen and left another mark as she prayed,
Please let Fence be safe. Please let him catch up before we get too far.

Because she knew that he’d follow them if he could get away from the two Atlantean guards Darian had left behind. He’d find a way to get through that barrier.

Her captor ignored her plea; he seemed to be looking for something. As they waited, a long, sleek grouper slid by. Then came a bottom-feeder, its tail barely disturbing the water.

Finally, she saw the faint bluish-green glow as two figures emerged from the shadows. They eased toward her, eagerness in the very movements of their fluttering fingers and sliding legs.

As they came closer, their accompanying glow revealed their bodies and faces. A man and a woman, both with long dark hair streaming in the water behind them.

Ana’s heart stuttered and then pounded in a faster rhythm. What were the Crown and Shield of the Guild doing here? Venturing far from the safety of their protected city?

Anastancie
, spelled one of them in Atlantean, then continued in sign.
Daughter of our world.
It has been very long.

What do you want?
she signed back. Darian had released her, obviously believing she had no chance of escape with the three of them present.

We are in need of your assistance
, answered the Crown. She didn’t even know his name; he’d always been referred to as the high master lord, or Crown. Her maternal grandfather had been—and as far as she knew, still was—his closest confidant and advisor.
I do hope you will help us, for without you we cease to exist.

I help you? You tried to destroy Envy
, she replied with sharp motions.

Darian shifted beside her and his stance was one of obeisance.
The plan worked, my lord. The threat to the world she now favors drew her out of hiding.

The Shield fixed him with her eyes, and Ana saw a flare in the glow of her crystals.
But it worked not. She stopped the threat.

Darian stilled next to Ana. His hands flailed as he tried to respond, making nonsensical gestures.

Nevertheless, you failed in your task
, said the Shield sternly. A dull click emphasized her displeasure.

But she is here. I have brought her to you.

And for that reason alone you are still, at this moment, living
.
But Envy is still intact. And it appears it shall remain so. Therefore, you shall not be compensated as promised.

Darian looked alarmed and seemed desperate to make his case.
I took care of Kaddick. He was talking too much to the Elites, telling them many secrets. He’s dead now.

Ana tried to follow their conversation even as she searched for a route of escape. The water’s natural pull allowed her to drift slightly away.

Do not fret, my dear,
the Crown was signing to his companion.
We have Anastancie now, and that is what we really need.
This slug is worth no bother.

Ana took the chance, when their attention was focused on each other, to dart away. But she made it only a few strokes before strong hands grabbed her, pulling her back by the hair. She reached blindly for her knife, then remembered it was long gone. Then she struggled, kicking and twisting, grabbing for sea rocks or pieces of man-made debris, and tried to beat him off . . .

Gasping for breath, her crystals glowing brightly with the effort, Ana looked up into the cold dark eyes of the Crown. He wound her hair around his wrist, pulling so tightly hot tears filled her eyes.

I think not, Anastancie,
signed the Shield, appearing in front of her.
Return to that world? Never.

And then Ana saw the blade in the Shield’s hand. It was already covered with blood, blood from someone else, dissipating into the sea.