Tempest Rising (21 page)

For once he must not have been reading my thoughts, because no answer popped into my head.

When I was reasonably certain I wasn’t going to suffocate above water, I focused on my surroundings for the first time. My eyes were still sensitive to light after being under the water for so long, and everything I looked at had that weird, golden halo that came when too much salt water mixed with too much sun, and your retinas felt like they were being burned out.

Still, I could see enough to know that I was in the shallows off an island with beautiful white sand. Palm trees billowed in the distance and in front of me was a gigantic structure that could only be called a castle.

It wasn’t any ordinary castle either. In fact, it put me in mind of the ornate sand creations of my childhood—the wild, soaring imaginings of my mother as she sat with me and helped me build the best fortress on six beaches. We would sit in the sand for hours, crafting soaring structures with minute attention to detail and pining for the beautiful princess who needed to be rescued from the evil witch’s locked tower.

But this wasn’t my mom’s imagination, I realized dazedly as I waded to shore. The pointy turrets, the intricately carved bridges, the long, high windows, were all right in front of me.

My stomach twisted and flopped, knotted and plunged to somewhere in the vicinity of my knees. Was this it, then? Was this her home? Was my
mother
inside of there, right now, waiting for me?

Chapter 17

I’d barely had a chance to formulate the idea when Kona cut into my frantic imaginings.
No, Tempest. I’m sorry, but your mother isn’t here. This is my home.

The hope growing inside of me—hope I hadn’t even been aware of harboring—quickly died. Who had I been kidding, I told myself roughly. My mother? Why would she be sticking around waiting for me now, when she never had before?

Please don’t do that
. Kona again.
Come up to the house. I’d come down to meet you, but I’m supposed to stay in this stupid bed, per doctor’s orders.
Disgust crept into his tone.
I’m completely fine, but no one wants to take chances with the heir to—

He stopped abruptly.
Heir to what?
I asked as I made my way up the silvery sands of what I supposed was his own personal beach. Which was kind of a shock, since I’d gotten used to thinking of him as some nomadic surfer dude, his board his only possession.

I squinted at the castle. Boy, had I ever gotten that wrong.

I glanced around as I walked, wondered just how far from home I’d come. The sun was bright here, golden. The ocean a perfect blue that was as clear as glass. It reminded me of the islands we’d visited last summer and I suddenly remembered Kona’s unwillingness to be pinned down when I’d asked about his name. Had my headlong flight last night led me all the way to the Pacific Islands?

Not exactly.

Ugh.
He was in my brain again.
Are none of my thoughts sacred?

I don’t know. Are they?

How had I forgotten how perverse Kona was? Once again, he was taking great delight in tormenting me.

So, if I’m not in Tahiti, where exactly am I?
I demanded.

Don’t rack your brain trying to figure out that stuff. We’re not on any map—any human map, that is.

What’s that supposed to mean?
The more agitated I grew, the faster I walked. I was almost at the castle.

Don’t worry about it.

I gritted my teeth.
I’m not an imbecile, you know. You don’t get to pat me on the head and tell me to be a good girl. You promised me answers and you
will
give them to me.

He laughed.
You’re a real hard-ass, you know that?
The way he said it made it seem like a compliment.

I’ve had to be.

That’s one of the things I like best about you. One of the things you’ll need when …

Keep breaking off like that in midsentence and you’re a dead man when I finally get my hands on you.

Ooh, I’m shaking.

You should be.

Nah, you worked too hard to save me to kill me now.

Don’t bet on it.
I approached the door, reached for it.
I faced down a garden of octopuses for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m a pushover. In fact—

The door swung open before I could turn the handle. A man, about fifty, stood on the other side of the threshold. Despite being dressed in a pair of baggy shorts and one of my father’s surfing tees, he was a dead ringer for Alfred, Batman’s very formal butler dude. And I should know—Rio and Moku watched the stupid movie about ten times a week.

The look he gave me was so full of disapproval that I started to take offense—I’d come too long a way to have to deal with attitude. But then I remembered. Most of my body was bruised or bleeding, and I had shown up at the door in nothing but my bra and panties.

The realization had me glancing down, mortified, but one look made me wish I hadn’t. Make that my completely
translucent
bra and panties. Ugh.

I crossed my arms awkwardly over my breasts, waited for him to invite me in—or tell me to get lost. He did neither, just continued to stare until I was squirming where I stood. When I couldn’t take the tense silence any longer, I finally muttered, “I’m Tempest. I need to see Kona.”

His eyes widened at my name, the tight purse of his lips relaxing slightly. “Certainly. Come in.” He stepped away from the door, ushered me inside, then eyed my sandy feet with complete repugnance. “Let me get you something to dry off.” And clean up—he didn’t say it, but the words were definitely implied.

“That’d be great.” Part of me wanted to tell him what he could do with his obvious disgust, but I wasn’t exactly coming from a position of strength. After all, it wasn’t like I could meet Kona in my underwear.

Why not? It wouldn’t bother me.
I could almost see his smile.

Yeah, I just bet.

“This should help, madam.” The odd surfer-turned-butler held out a brightly patterned towel and navy blue robe. I reached for the towel first, tried to brush off as much sand as I possibly could under his eagle eye. Then wrapped the robe around me, shocked at how soft and plush it was. When I rubbed my nose against the collar, I realized that it smelled like Kona.

I was wearing Kona’s robe. The idea made me tingle all over, but I kept my tone casual as I thought,
Thanks.

My pleasure. Although you really don’t have to cover up on my account.

Already been there, dude. And it so isn’t happening.

Is that a dare?
His voice was lower, huskier, than it had been a few moments before. Chills shot up my spine, but they weren’t the bad kind. Of course, with Kona, they almost never were. That was the problem.

Doesn’t sound like a problem to me.

Kona!

All right, all right. My room’s on the fourth floor. It’s the last door on your right.

Are you sure Alfred won’t mind me heading up unescorted?

Alfred?
He seemed confused—obviously not a Batman fan. But then he didn’t have to be. He was living his own secret life.

I almost explained the reference to him, but kind of liked the fact that I knew something he didn’t for once—even if it was only a stupid superhero allusion.

Come on up. I’ve been waiting for you.

Interesting, since I’ve been imagining you dead, your body devoured by hungry sea animals.

Yeah.
He had the grace to sound uncomfortable.
I’m really sorry about that.

I refused to say the patented
it’s okay
, because obviously it wasn’t. I had swum all night—into the very depths of the frickin’ Pacific Ocean. My dad was probably frantic, or at least devastated, and I was on some alternate-reality island that didn’t exist in the real world.

No, things were definitely
not
okay.

I headed up the staircase, yanking on the robe as I did so I wouldn’t trip on the stupid thing. It was way too long for me and I had visions of tumbling down the stairs to my death—or at least one heck of a concussion.

Still, I felt totally girly all wrapped up in it. At almost six feet tall, I hadn’t felt dainty since kindergarten, but Kona was about five inches taller than me and really well muscled. Next to him, I actually looked like something besides a throwback to the Amazons.

I got to the third-floor landing and headed up one more flight of stairs to Kona’s room. As I climbed, I became aware of the tapestry that ran the length of the second staircase. It was huge, its colors muted—by time or design, I didn’t know. But if I’d had to guess, I would say that it was time. The thing looked really old.

A little curl of excitement unwound inside of me as I realized that even in this alternate world, people created art. Maybe I wouldn’t have to give up my painting after all …

I cut off the thought, nowhere close to considering being a mermaid for life. Then I started to rush past the tapestry, figuring I could check it out later. I wanted to see Kona with my own eyes, to make sure he was as okay as he sounded.

And I wanted answers. A lot of answers. I had more questions than I could count.

But slowly the story on the tapestry seeped into my consciousness and I paused to get a better look at the thing. It was an underwater scene, though in the distance stood Kona’s castle, rising out of the water and into the clouds. In the forefront was a major battle. I stared at it as a sick kind of fascination unwound inside of me.

In the center of the tapestry was a great, ugly sea monster—slimy and gray and multitentacled. In each of its—I paused to count—twenty-three tentacles, the thing held a mermaid or a human or one of these black, sea lion–type creatures I’d seen near the ocean’s bottom.

One of the tentacles was halfway to its huge gaping mouth and I realized that in it he held a headless mermaid with an emerald tail and green tattoos across her shoulders.

Gross.

In the water around the monster were thirty or forty of the same human and semihuman creatures locked in battle with other humanlike creatures with gray skin and pointy features, as well as ones that were half octopus. I thought with distaste of the huge garden of octopuses I had swum through earlier and wondered if they’d had the ability to morph into the things I was presently looking at.

One woman—or mermaid, really—stood out from the rest. She was bearing down on the disgusting sea monster, a jeweled sword in one hand and a lightning bolt in the other. Her long hair was streaming behind her and purple tattoos covered her back and ran down her arms.

She seemed familiar and I squinted, trying to get a better look at her face. But it wasn’t well defined, despite the clarity of the rest of the tapestry. As I studied her, I couldn’t help wondering if she had won the battle being depicted—or if she had fallen to the creature like so many of her people. Their bodies littered the water and ocean floor around the terrible beast.

“So, you like the Lusca?”

I jumped at the voice so close to me, nearly fell down after trying so hard to avoid it. Probably would have, if Kona hadn’t reached out and grabbed me, pulling me against his warm bare chest.

“Whoa, sorry.”

“I thought you were in bed.” I pushed against him, trying to get free. It felt entirely too good to be standing so close.

“You were taking so long I wondered if you’d gotten lost.” His wild silver eyes gleamed down at me.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting you to be skulking around the hallways.” I shoved at his shoulders again and this time he let me go. I looked at him for a minute, shocked at how relieved I was to see him. He looked good—really good, especially considering the fact that I’d spent part of the previous night giving him CPR. The wound on his chest had closed up, a long, pinkish scar the only evidence that he had nearly died less than twenty-four hours before. Amazing.

He caught me looking. “My people heal quickly.”

“Obviously.” I wanted to ask who his people were,
what
they were. If he wasn’t a mermaid like me, then what was he? But I didn’t know how to start, so I settled for, “You look different. Kind of—” I stopped myself before I could say glowy, but that definitely was what I was thinking. He was giving off a silvery light so bright that it looked like he had swallowed the moon.

He grinned like he knew exactly what I meant. “It’s the water.”

“Right. The water.” I paused. “What does that mean?”