Salt & the Sisters: A Mermaid Fantasy (The Siren's Curse Book 3) Page 8

  Antoni nodded in the gloom, his eyes catching and reflecting a little of the moonlight coming in through the windows. “Okay. You know you don’t have to, but I sure would like to make you feel better if I can.” He paused, uncertain if he should continue. “I’m guessing it has something to do with Nike.”

  I nodded, then shook my head. “Not with Nike personally, no. But she told me that the reason the gems hurt me is because I’m the only one who can break the curse.”

  I could feel his surprise, even though he didn’t move. His forehead wrinkled in the dim light. “I don’t understand.”

  I explained to him what Nike had said, as precisely as I could remember, only leaving out the part that I could die. Antoni listened attentively, and when I got to the end of it, I said, “So, she said that breaking the curse could be dangerous for me.”

  “I can’t say I understand what form that danger could take,” he finally said after a long silence. He put a hand on my face. “While the thought of my sweetheart in danger isn’t a happy one, we’re in the business of curse-breaking. What I know about magic wouldn’t even fill a postage stamp, but this curse…” He paused and shook his head. “It’s stood for thousands of years. I never for a moment imagined that breaking it would be like dumping water on a campfire.”

  “So, you’re not surprised?”

  “Surprised, no. And we should have guessed it would have something to do with you personally, because you are the only siren who can’t touch the gemstones without great pain. It’s a pretty big hint, now that I think about it.”

  “What would you do?”

  He let out a long breath. “I honestly don’t know, Targa. Even if I did know, I’m not sure I would say.”

  “There’s a chance I could get hurt,” I continued, unsurprised at his careful neutrality. “But there’s a chance I could break the curse and prevent all the future generations of sirens and their families from having to suffer the same awful things my mother had to suffer. Wouldn’t that be worth it?”

  “It’s your call to make,” Antoni replied, ever the diplomat. “You already know that I would walk through fire to prevent you from being hurt, so of course I don’t want anything to happen to you. But some decisions are bigger than us.” He took another long breath and there was a shudder in it this time. He took my hand as we sat there leaning against the headboard, hip to hip. “Whatever decision you make, I’ll back you.”

  “Just like that, huh?”

  His fingers twined through mine and he lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “It’s not easy, but people have been watching their loved ones walk into known danger for all of recorded history. How many families said goodbye to their sons, husbands, uncles, during the big wars of the world? They were sad, of course they were. They were terrified, as I would be and as I am now. They were also proud, and sometimes, it was the right thing to do. Sometimes, most times,” he corrected, “those boys didn’t make it home. But some of those boys became heroes, and without them wars would have been lost and many countries would look very different today than they do now. It was freedom they were fighting for, and that was worth everything. So, who would I be to tell you to stay home and be safe, when your people are not free?”

  So, he understood. It was my life in danger, not just my health. He was even able to relate my reasonings to something that made sense to him.

  My heart flooded with the warmth of love for him and I pulled him into another hug. I didn’t think I knew anyone else who would have said what he’d said, who could have shown me that they understood and would also stand beside me without judgement no matter what I decided.

  “I love you, Antoni.” I couldn’t have stopped the words if I had wanted to. They spilled from my lips, the way the tears had begun to spill from my eyes again.

  He squeezed me so tightly that the muscles of his arms and chest quivered.

  When he released me, I took his face in my hands and showered kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck—kisses of adoration and gratitude. I felt the moisture of his tears against my lips, mingling with my own.

  I knew what I had to do. All of my deliberating and agonizing was done. My decision was made. I had to give myself over to my mission, no matter the outcome. If I didn’t try, I wouldn’t be Targa, and if he didn’t allow me to try, he wouldn’t be Antoni.

  When you love someone, you let them go, and that was what he was doing for me.

  My kisses turned urgent, hungry, and he rose under my hands, his heart pounding strong and loud. He wrapped an arm around my waist and in one motion slid me down in the bed. He slid down beside me and his lips crushed mine. His weight pressed against me, comforting me. Words were no longer needed.

  Our choices define who we are. I just had to be me, and he just had to be him. It was that simple.

  Ten

  Once my decision was made, I was at peace with it. Peace didn’t mean that I wasn’t nervous, or that I wasn’t sending out requests to the universe to be on my side. A curse was an evil thing. Surely nature was not pleased with it. Sirens certainly were not, but this curse was so old that most didn’t even know it was a curse anymore.

  Nike continued to regain strength, so after breakfast a few days after making my decision, we agreed that we should start packing and formulating a more specific plan.

  Returning from the boathouse after a swim, my hair and clothes still damp, I made my way along the path leading around the side of the villa.

  Across one of the many broad lawns and through a scraggly line of trees was a large outbuilding which looked something like another villa, only plainer. I knew it was the garage. I could hear the sound of men’s voices and heavy things being moved across a gritty floor.

  Two of the four garage doors were up and an array of boxes and bins were spread out on the gravel in front. A pile of sleeping bags and tents in canvas sacks lay in a heap in front of the grill of an ancient vehicle whose logo I didn’t recognize.

  “Can I help?” I approached Jozef where he was lifting down more boxes, shoving off the lids and rifling through the insides.

  He looked up and smiled, the corners of his eyes wrinkling, his dark eyes sparkling.

  “That would be great,” he replied. “Most of this stuff is so old that it’s likely useless, but some of it is still in good condition. We’re just trying to separate the wheat from the chaff before we take an inventory and make a list of what we still need.”

  “Easy enough.” I pulled down a box from the wooden shelves and carried it into the sunlight. Opening it up revealed a jumble of equipment from antique flashlights to small propane stoves.

  Antoni dangled a rag in front of my face. I grinned up at him and grabbed it. I pulled out the items one at a time, cleaned each one, and tested to see whether it worked. What was broken went into a box Antoni had scrawled ‘busted’ on, and what worked was sorted by category so Jozef could select the best of what he had.

  “Went camping a lot when you were younger, did you?” Antoni said just before he sneezed three times. He held an old tarp out by one corner. There was a sound of sand and grit tumbling down it and spattering on the ground.

  “Some,” Jozef replied, his voice nearly lost behind the old vehicle. There was the sound of metal clanking, and rusty hinges squeaking. “My dad also had an affinity for bush craft for a while.”

  “Does bush craft include desert craft?” I asked, clicking the power button of a huge square metal flashlight, not expecting it to work. It didn’t, but I put it in the “needs parts” box as it might only need a new battery.

  “I’ve never been to a desert,” Jozef said, carrying a metal toolbox out from behind the truck and setting it on the work bench. Next, he pulled out a greasy pair of antique jumper cables. Those went into the ‘busted’ box.

  “Understandable given your choice of career,” I replied, “but not understandable given how old you are. You were never curious?”

  “Oh, sure.” Jozef plucked a wooden mallet o
ut of the toolbox and set it on the bench. He frowned and pulled out a bit of broken spring next, holding it up and watching it dangle like he was trying to figure out what it was for.

  “That’s a slinky,” Antoni said with a laugh. “A toy.”

  “A broken toy.” Jozef tossed it in with the junk. “All joking aside, I don’t think we fully understand the job we’ve carved out for ourselves.”

  “Why don’t you outline it for us, then?” Antoni straightened and his back gave a little crackle.

  “We’ll have to drive from the nearest city with an airport across kilometers of vacant desert wasteland with more supplies than I care to think about,” Jozef began, continuing to dig through the toolbox as he talked. “What we should be doing is reporting the discovery to an archaeological society and letting them organize a professional excavation.”

  I looked up at him and frowned. “That would take way too long and would involve way too many people.”

  Jozef put up a defensive hand, his fingers black with grease. “I’m not saying we are doing the wrong thing, I’m just saying that we’re going to get into trouble for digging there without sanction.”

  “We’re trying to break a curse, not just unearth Atlantis.”

  He nodded. “I know, that’s why I’m stifling the professional in me. I might be an oceanographer, but the way you treat an underwater archaeological discovery isn’t any different to how you treat one on land in terms of due process. A professional team could excavate the site quickly. We’re a team of five people.”

  I saw his point but he was neglecting to factor in a few important details.

  “We’re a team of five supernaturals and one buff guy.” I winked at Antoni.

  Antoni made a little bow and said, “Thank you.”

  Jozef gave me a look from under his brows. “Yeah, we’re a team of water-dwelling supernaturals. Our powers are greatly diminished when we’re on land.”

  “Not our strength,” I reminded him.

  “No, but even with four physically strong supernaturals, one sorceress, and one strong human,” he nodded at Antoni, “how long do you think it’ll take to excavate forty to fifty circular kilometers of compressed sand and rubble? How deep do you think Atlantis is buried?”

  These were rhetorical questions, and I saw his point.

  Jozef saw the doubt on my face and it emboldened him to continue listing the challenges we’d be facing. “We’ll have to drive across the desert in a caravan with at least three vehicles, possibly four. We’ll have to set up a long-term camp. Water will be the biggest issue, as there are no water sources within four hundred kilometers or more. We’ll have to bring all of our food, prepare for sandstorms and extreme heat, blazing hot sun…”

  I stood up, not liking where Jozef was going with this. Maybe he was being realistic, but just maybe he didn’t realize who he was dealing with, either.

  “First of all, why drive when we can fly directly to the site?” I proposed, picking up the crumpled tarp I’d found shoved in the bottom of the box. I began to shake it out and fold it.

  “There’s nowhere for a plane to land,” Jozef pointed out. “It’s very rough terrain.”

  “Not a plane, no. But a helicopter can land in any wide, open space.”

  Jozef looked thoughtful. “I don’t have a copter. I don’t even know anyone who can fly one, and I don’t think we’re going to trust just anyone with this mission. Are we?”

  “We don’t have a chopper either, but we do have a pilot who works only for Novak. He can fly anything with wings or blades.” I was exaggerating for effect, because I didn’t actually know that Ivan could fly anything, but I did know for sure he could fly a chopper.

  “You trust him?” Jozef asked.

  “With my life.”

  “Does he know what you are?”

  “No, but he doesn’t have to. He’ll do as he’s asked and he’ll keep everything confidential. He’s a pro. And there’s no reason he needs to know about our supernatural abilities.”

  “It’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to keep it a secret from him,” Jozef said with a doubtful shrug.

  Antoni was listening thoughtfully, his gaze bouncing back and forth between Jozef and me as Jozef threw up objections and I broke them down.

  “If he has to get let in on it, it’s not the worst thing in the world, is it?” Antoni ventured. “I mean, I know. Martinius knew.”

  I’d have to think that through, but I knew Jozef was right. If we were going to involve Ivan in this mission, it would be easier if he knew why we were doing it. I couldn’t discount that ever-present stop-gap––making Ivan forget anything that needed to be forgotten by using my siren voice on him.

  “Okay, so the traveling part could be made easier,” Jozef admitted. “We fly to the nearest city and charter a chopper. I suppose Ivan could fly back and forth to the nearest city for supplies as they were needed.”

  I nodded, feeling a little better now that Jozef seemed to be coming around to the idea.

  “But that doesn’t solve the problem of the digging.” Jozef cocked his head in my direction and sent an inquisitive smile my way. “Or do you have a solution for that, too, Supergirl?”

  All at once it hit me like a blast of wind off a stormy sea. I almost laughed out loud but settled for a huge grin.

  “I just might,” I replied.

  Antoni and Jozef shared a confused glance.

  Reaching into my back pocket for my cell phone, I turned it on and began to pound out a text to Georjie and Saxony. I wandered away from the garage, keeping my back to the men so they couldn’t see the hopeful and excited look on my face. No use getting them all hopped up if she said no.

  Halfway through writing the text I just got impatient. I deleted the text, switched my phone over to contacts, found Georjie, and dialed her.

  A few rings later, my beautiful bestie’s lovely liquid voice poured into my ear.

  “Well, look who’s on the line. Your ears must have been burning,” she said, a smile in her voice. “I dreamt about you last night. We were back in grade three, and do you remember the day Gavin Campbell farted into a ziploc bag and then hid it in his desk? Said he was saving it for the last day of school––”

  “Georjie…” My voice was tense with hope. It got her attention.

  “Yeah?”

  “Sorry to interrupt. You can tell me how the dream turned out later. Please tell me you have a way of contacting Petra?”

  “Ha! What are you up to? Don’t do anything fun without me!”

  “You’re in Scotland,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m only kidding. But what do you want Petra for?”

  I gave her the bare bones of the mission and told her about Atlantis. I didn’t dare look back over my shoulder at Jozef’s face as I told her. He’d wanted to swear us all to secrecy, but my promise not to keep secrets from my two best friends trumped any promise made afterward. Georjie knew what and who I was, we’d been through life and death situations together. I didn’t feel a single twinge of shame at spilling our secret, though I did ask Georjie to keep it to herself.

  When I got to the part where we’d be excavating in Atlantis, Georjie gave a low whistle.

  “Petra would kill to be part of that.”

  “Yeah, and I’d kill to have her on the team. Georjie, we really need her if we’re going to pull this off sometime before the end of the century. Do you have a way of getting a hold of her?”

  “Up until last week, I didn’t, but she happened to call the other day, asking if she could send me a sample of some dirt to analyze.”

  I knew Georjie didn’t mean a scientific analysis. Part of Georjie’s powers as a Wise––an earth elemental––was that she had the ability to ‘see’ the past happenings on a particular patch of land when holding earth from that land in her hands.

  “I thought you had to be standing on the same ground as you are holding it in your hand?”

  “Turns out, no,” sh
e said. “I do have to be standing barefoot, but I can see the history of a particular lump of earth from anywhere. It was a neat discovery.”

  “You’ll have to tell me more about that when all this is over,” I replied, swallowing the lump in my throat down. I sure hoped I was still around when all this was over.

  “Of course, just as I expect the nitty gritty details of whatever madness you’re up to while you’re out in the desert. Anyway, give me a second.”

  There was silence while Georjie went into her phone contacts. Then, “I found it. I’ll share it with you, okay?”

  “Great. Thanks, Georjie.”

  A moment later my phone buzzed and Petra’s contact number popped into my feed. I didn’t recognize the country code, but that was no surprise.

  Georjie and I said goodbye and I dialed Petra’s number, not knowing or really caring if she was asleep or not. It rang twice before she picked up.

  “I know who you are,” Petra’s voice blazed on hard and loud. “If you don’t stop calling me I swear I’ll personally…”

  “Petra?” I interrupted.

  She stopped talking for a second. “You’re not a revenue agency scammer.”

  I laughed. “Definitely not.”

  “Targa?” Her voice lit up like she was thrilled to hear from me, and it warmed me from the inside out. Georjie, Saxony and I never had a chance to get to know Petra very well. First we’d been colleagues, and then she’d gone on some crazy solo vigilante mission and completely destroyed Field Station Eleven where evil people had plotted evil things. She was the most badass person I’d ever met, and I didn’t like to think I intimidated easily.

  “Yeah,” I said, “it’s me.”

  “What an awesome surprise!” And she really sounded like she thought so, which warmed me even more. “Where are you?”

  “Gibraltar, where are you?”

  “Gibraltar, wow. You do get around.”

  I noticed she dodged answering my question, but that didn’t surprise me. Petra had turned full on enemy-of-the-state, the state being any corporation owned by or linked to The Nakesh Corporation.