Page 65 of The Sea Witch
Chapter Fourteen
Ben gaped at Alys. She stared back.
He shook out the cuffs of his coat, but it was a lost cause. His garments had been drenched too many times to look at all presentable. Between that and his loose hair and grown-in beard, if any of his superior officers saw him, they would be horrified. Lieutenant Oliver would be particularly annoyed seeing him so bedraggled.
He gritted his teeth at the train of his thoughts. What the hell did it matter what Oliver felt? There was no value in a clean-shaven jaw when Alys had just accused him of something he could never, would never, believe about himself.
“What just happened requires magic,” he snarled at her. “I have none.”
“Then what the fuck are those?” She pointed at his hands.
He didn’t want to look again, and yet he did. There they were, the markings that had haunted him since he was nine years of age. His fingers strayed to his throat, and though he couldn’t feel anything, the markings had to be there, too.
“There’s no sense in any of it,” he threw back. “Yourmagic caused... whatever the hell that was.”
“Magic and I are old friends,” she answered. “I know its ways. Including when it begins in me. And this time, it didn’t. The source was you.”
“When we...”
He glanced toward Susannah and Stasia, watching them both with alarmed confusion. Only if the fires of hell licked his heels would he admit in front of them that he and Alys had kissed.
“Did you locate the fail-safe?” the quartermaster demanded.
Alys held up the stone as everyone gathered close to peer at the writing on its surface.
She read aloud, “?‘Find what you seek in the shelter of Sir Fenfield’s nephew’s cousin’s daughter’s son’s table.’?”
“And?” Stasia pressed.
“And nothing.”
“That’s not the fail-safe,” Susannah said flatly.
“Another fucking riddle.” Alys glared at the stone in her hands. As she did, the edges of the polished rock began crumbling into fine powder. It spread across the stone, until it was nothing but dust in her hands. She cast what remained of the dust into the pool, and it sank through the water to settle at the bottom.
“More of Partridge’s magic?” Ben asked.
“I destroyed it,” she answered. “Can’t have anyone read it and follow us.”
“What does it mean?” Susannah wondered.
The trees ringing the waterfall’s pool shuddered. Shapes moved in the green shadows, and a low rumbling echoed out from the forest. The quartermaster’s familiar flapped its wings in alarm.
Whatever creatures inhabited this island now stirred, and they didn’t sound pleased.
Alys drew her cutlass, and Stasia and Susannah cocked their pistols. Ben searched for something to use as a weapon, and had to settle for a sharp piece of rock. He clutched it tightly and it dug into his skin. Damn if he didn’t wish for his own blade or flintlock.
“There’s a creek that runs from the waterfall,” Alys whispered, nodding toward the running water. “We can’t go backthe way we came, so we follow it. Hopefully it’ll lead us out of here.”
Silent nods were exchanged. Single file, with Alys in the lead, they hurried along the bank of the creek. Thick jungle gathered on either side of them with lengthening shadows that deepened as dusk approached.
Rustling sounded in the vegetation. Deep growls rolled out from the cover of the trees.
“Don’t run,” Alys cautioned everyone.
Ben walked quickly to catch up with Alys. “I count half a dozen creatures following us. Large ones.”
“There are eight of them,” she answered lowly. She pulled on a tree branch, and used her cutlass to lop it off. Pinning his gaze with hers, she handed him the limb. “Stay alert.”
