Oceans of Fire (2 page)

These things say she
Who holds the gifts of the seven
Who walks at twilight
Holding the seven golden lamps

Seven sisters intertwined
Controlling elements of air, land and sea
Cannot control the fate they flee
One by one, oldest to last, destiny shall claim them

When the locked gate swings open in welcome
The first shall find true love
As the sisters stand in wonder
At what destiny has done

Within each sister’s heart now beats passion
While love turns as a key
By the time the year is ended
Each will follow thee

Remember therefore from whence you came
Knowing that in the end it is the seventh
That will renew the line again
Seven daughters of a seventh daughter

Each gifted each giving each tied to one another
For those who have ears let them hear
For those who have eyes let them see
For all that I have said shall come to be

To the eldest is gifted agility, grace
And the knowledge to see what future we face
Second in line speaks peace with a word
While the third calls truth from the unspoken word

Next comes the healer with hands that can find
That which is deadly and make it unbind
The fifth harnesses elements of air, wind and sea
As the sixth sister sings a spell over thee

Last of the seven youngest of all
Possesses the greatest gift of them all
To her falls the bearing of children to be
So that the line will continue and forever more be

Each gift has a challenge which must be overcome
The seven free sisters must act now as one
With grace and agility comes great bodily fatigue
While speaking peace raises ire and continual need

The calling for truth from the unspoken word
Gives way to illusion for naught has been heard
She whose hands can undo death for another
Will take on the illness and hope to recover

The harnessing of wind tides and sea
Gives way for the unknown to be
As the spell singer sings casting her spell
One misspoken word and all’s to no avail

For the seventh child of the seventh daughter
New corridors open holding illusion, power
But which path to take and where does it lead
Choices to make while each plants a seed

These things I have spoken so harken ye well
For lives you are changing with each casting of spell
But know in your heart when you must turn away
For some will be lost as it is destiny’s way

Yours is a legacy not easily borne
So beware of the pitfalls and careful of thorns
The gifts they are many
Born from the past

Surviving the years for the future to last
From mother to daughters
And back through the line
The gifts that you carry always will bind

Prophecy written by Anita Toste,
eleventh daughter in the infamous
and magical King family,
in the year before the great wars
between Magick and Science

Chapter 1

BRIGHT colors; orange, pink, and red streaked across the sky, turning the ocean into a living flame as the sun set low over the sea. Twenty feet below the surface of the water, Abigail Drake stilled, mesmerized by the sudden, rare beauty of fire pouring into the sea like molten lava.

The dolphins swimming in lazy circles around her took on a completely different appearance as the bands of orange shimmered through the water, casting shadows everywhere. She was suddenly, acutely aware of night falling and that just a few feet away, murky darkness could so easily hide danger. She knew better than to dive alone. It was one of the stupidest things she’d ever done, but she hadn’t been able to resist when the day had been so perfect and she’d spotted the wild dolphins and knew they’d come looking for her.

Sea Haven on the northern California coast was her hometown. Abigail was one of seven sisters born to the seventh daughter of the magical Drake family, each gifted with unique talents. The Drake sisters were well known in Sea Haven, protected, cherished even, and it was the one place they could relax and be themselves. Except Abigail. Only here, in the sea, was she truly at peace.

The northern California coast was also home to several species of dolphin and she knew most of them, not only by sight, but also by their signature whistles. A signature whistle was as good as a name and most researchers agreed that dolphins used each other’s name when communicating. This particular group of dolphins had a signature whistle for Abigail and she’d heard them calling to her as she stood on the captain’s walk of her family home. She’d been away for months researching in other oceans far away, yet when she returned, the dolphins welcomed her home just like always.

A few years earlier she’d worked with this particular group of dolphins while earning her Ph.D., cataloging them, each contact, every sighting, paying special attention to communication. She was intrigued by their language and wanted to be able to understand them. She’d worked with two of the males on understanding some sign language. Over the years, each time she came home, she visited with them, maintaining a relationship. Although none of her sisters had been available to dive with her, the call of “her” dolphins had been irresistible and she’d taken out her boat to join them.

Federal law required a special permit to swim with wild dolphins in the United States and Abigail had been fortunate enough to be granted permission for her research off the California coast a second time, but she was careful to keep a low profile, not wanting to draw attention to the presence of the dolphins. They could travel fifty miles easily and were difficult to track on a daily basis, but this group, as well as many others, often called to her using the same whistle. It was very unusual to have the dolphins identify her and give her a name and she was particularly pleased that they knew she was back after her long absence.

Abigail rolled over and swam belly to belly with Kiwi, a large adult male who had formed a tight bond with Boscoe, another male. The two males normally swam in synchronization, their movements an astonishing underwater ballet. Boscoe curved his body in the exact motion at precisely the same time as Kiwi and swam close to Abigail as the three of them made a lazy loop together while several other dolphins danced in a long curving circle as if they had choreographed every move ahead of time.

Dancing with dolphins was exhilarating. Abigail studied, photographed, and recorded dolphins, but tonight she was simply enjoying them. Her equipment, always with her, was nearly forgotten as they performed the strange, intriguing ballet for the next forty minutes. At first the red of the sinking sun spotlighted them in a fiery gold, but as dusk fell and the night darkened, it was much too difficult to continue, much as she wanted to stay.

Reluctantly, Abigail pointed to the surface and shifted position to begin her ascent. The dolphins swam around her in loose circles, their bodies flexible, unimpeded by their heavy muscles and enormous strength. It was surprising how the dolphins could rocket through the water, diving as deep as they did and using so little oxygen. Abigail found them fascinating.

She surfaced, pushing her mask on top of her head and lying back to float as she stared up at the big round ball in the sky. Her soft laughter echoed across the water. Waves lapped at her body and splashed over her face. She allowed her legs to gently sink so she could tread water as she stared in awe at the whitecaps, turned into sparkling jewels by the brilliance of the full moon.

Beside her, a bottlenose dolphin surfaced, circling her in a graceful loop. The dolphin shook its head from side to side, emitting a series of squeaks and clicks. She struck out for her boat, a lazy crawl, whistling to the dolphins in the short, chirpy good-bye she always used.

It took only a few minutes to stow her camera and recorder before climbing in. Shivering, she again glanced at her watch. Her sisters would be very worried and she was in for a lecture she knew she deserved. The dolphins poked their heads out of the water, grinning at her, round black eyes shining with intelligence.

“I’m going to get in big trouble thanks to you two,” she told the males.

They shook their heads at her in perfect synchronization and dove together, disappearing beneath the surface only to come up on the other side of her boat, whistling and squawking at her. Abigail shook her head just as firmly. “No! It’s dark—or it would be if the moon weren’t so full. You two are really trying to get me one of Sarah’s lectures. When she starts, the rest of us cringe.”

While she had everything fresh in her mind, she sank down onto the cushioned seat and hastily scribbled notes on her observations. She recorded everything to look at later, but she always dictated while she was driving the boat after first jotting down details of sightings and any identifying marks of new dolphins in the area. It was important to her study to get DNA samples to test for pesticides and any other man-made toxins in the dolphins’ systems as well as for communicable diseases and, of course, family ties.

Boscoe whistled, a distinct note that made her smile. Abigail leaned over the side of the boat. “Thanks for giving me a name, boys, but it isn’t enough to make me risk a Sarah lecture. I’ll see you tomorrow if you haven’t taken off.”

She’d let the time get away from her so that darkness had really fallen as she wrote out her notes. She was still a good distance from home and she heaved a sigh, knowing she wouldn’t get away unscathed this time. Sarah, her oldest sister, was certain to be waiting, tapping her foot, hands on hips. The image made her smile.

The moon spilled brightly onto the water, forming mystical fantasy pools of liquid silver on the surface. Small white-caps glistened across the sea as far as she could see, adding to the beauty. She turned her face up to feel the slight breeze as she started the engine and began to make her way back to the small harbor where she kept her boat. She’d gone several miles out to sea to join the dolphins and she was grateful for the moon as she picked up speed to reach the coastline. Boscoe and Kiwi raced along beside her, zooming through the water like rockets and leaping playfully.

“Show-offs,” she called, laughing. Their acrobatics delighted her and they followed her right through the narrows beneath the bridge into the harbor.

Without warning, the two male dolphins raced directly in front of her boat, crisscrossing so close she throttled down, shocked by their behavior and terrified for them. They continued to repeat the maneuver, over and over until she had no choice but to halt her boat just inside the harbor, the wharf in sight.

“Kiwi! Boscoe! What are you doing? You’re going to get hurt!” Abigail’s heart leapt to her throat. The dolphins often rode the bow of the boat, leaping and performing in the current, but they’d never repeatedly crossed so close in front of the boat. The large males kept surfacing, side by side, standing on their tails and chattering at her. She had no recourse but to stop the engine completely and drift in the sea to keep them from injury. Here, the swells were larger, so the boat was tossed a bit by the heavier waves at the mouth of the harbor.

The moment the engine was quiet, Kiwi and Boscoe returned to the side of the boat, spitting water at her from the sides of their mouths and shaking their heads vigorously as if to tell her something. Several other dolphins poked their heads out of the water, spy-hopping as they looked toward the wharf. She knew spy-hopping was a common practice dolphins and whales used to view the world outside of their water environment by simply sticking their heads high in the air above the surface. They seemed to be looking for something outside the water.