Part 26 (1/2)

”I've been out of the loop. I heard rumors that the truce was broken several years ago. My grandmother's sister, the one who left A Priori, lost some of her people to the Consortium, and that was the beginning of it. As for me . . . I'm n.o.body to them. No powers, no influence. They could have had me a long time ago.”

”But they waited until now.”

”The timing is strange, considering everything else that's happened. I don't know why they want me. Leverage against my grandparents, maybe. Which would never work.”

Again, the dog whined. Perrin's hand tightened against her face. ”Explain.”

But she was tired of talking about her family. Dead tired.

And the parasite in her skull was twitching again.

I'm going to tell him, she thought. Right now.

”You said there were two things about the open sea,” Jenny said instead, unable to squeak out even one syllable about the parasite. ”What was the second?”

”It can wait,” Perrin said, and Jenny found him to be a terrible liar. She liked that.

The dog jumped down from the couch and padded to the open door that led out on deck. Its tail wagged. Far away, Jenny heard the low drone of a plane. The sound faded after less than a minute, and the dog sat down, staring at the sky.

”You're only safe when you're dead,” Jenny murmured. ”My grandfather taught me that. He and Maurice.” She shook her head, throat thick. ”Supposed to make you brave, I think. But it never worked for me. We're not safe out here, and it scares me.”

Something else scared her. Her big mouth. She had never told anyone so much about her family, for good reasons: shame and danger and disbelief. Who would believe her? Who could be trusted?

Jenny slid away from Perrin's touch, suffering a strange, aching hunger in her heart as she did: homesickness, maybe. But not for any home she'd ever had.

”I don't know how to make anyone feel safe,” Perrin said, resting his hands on his knees. His voice was low, rough, but she was listening hard and caught the faint catch and break in his words.

Jenny didn't know how to answer him, except with the truth.

”Dreams,” she told him. ”Those dreams were safe. You made me feel safe there.”

Feeling like a coward, she stood and walked away, past the dog, out on deck. She kept her distance from the spot where the dead man had lain. The outline of his body was still visible, clear as day: a man-sized stain of blood and other sticky fluids that smelled like rot and death.

The boat was dark and silent, rocking gently in the waves. Clouds had cleared, and stars glittered. Peace, she thought. This was the peace-time of night that she had always loved. Silence and water, and her heartbeat, as though the world was made only of those three things-and starlight.

We do not suffer by accident, Jenny thought, dredging up more Jane Austen; and then a line from an old Nat King Cole song filled her head, and she hummed to herself as the parasite twitched and a raging thirst filled her, an overwhelming need that was too powerful to acknowledge except that she turned from the rail, walking around the b.l.o.o.d.y stain in the deck, toward the ladder that led down to the sea.

” 'Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely night, dreaming of a song,' ” she sang softly to herself, terrible pressure building in her chest, as the parasite burned hot, hot in her head. Her legs were moving and she could not stop them. All she could do was sing to herself, her voice growing more strained, desperate, her throat drying up like leather.

Jenny could not stop herself from climbing down the ladder into the dark water. Her voice broke as she clung by one hand to the rail-surrounded, coc.o.o.ned.

Down. Go down, whispered that dry voice in her head.

No, Jenny told it, even as she let go and sank underwater. I'll die.

You will not die, replied the voice. Death will not transform you. Just life.

She had no choice. Her mouth opened, and the sea rushed in.

The sea tasted good, which surprised her, almost as much as it terrified. Salt water flowed down her throat like silk, filling her belly with a sweetness that made her feel full and cool, and strong.

No, part of her thought desperately. Salt water will kill you. You will dehydrate, you will risk seizures, brain damage. Your kidneys will shut down.

But she opened her mouth again, swallowing, inhaling- A strong hand grabbed her braid and yanked upward.

Jenny broke the surface, choking. Perrin was there, huge and solid. He hauled her hard against him, shouting at her, his hand painfully tight around her waist. She couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. Her ears were ringing, and her heart thundered.

”-what were you thinking?” she finally heard, and buried her face against his chest, clinging to him, suffering the same tremors that raced from his body into hers. He had not changed shape-his legs bobbed against hers, and his free hand gripped the bottom ladder rung.

”I wasn't thinking,” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. ”Something came over me. I had to be in the water.”

I had to. I was forced. There's something living in my head, and it won't let me tell you-please, please, let me tell him- Perrin pressed his lips hard against her forehead.

”I'm sorry,” he rasped. ”I'm sorry this is happening to you.”

”Not your fault,” she mumbled. ”I wish I could tell you why.”

But he didn't pick up on that like she hoped he would. Perrin, trembling as badly as her, placed her hand on the ladder. ”Can you climb?”

”I don't know,” she said. Her teeth were beginning to chatter. Shock, she thought. The ocean felt warm, and so did the night air. She was still thirsty for salt water and licked the remnants off her lips before she realized what she was doing.

Fear settled like a fist in her gut. She felt faint. Perrin, watching her face, growled. Jenny tried to rea.s.sure him with a smile, but it felt more like a grimace-teeth gritted against the sudden, incredible urge to vomit.

Which she did, halfway up the ladder. All that salt water, pouring out of her in one heaving, bitter rush that left her, again, faint.

What is happening to me? What is happening to me?

Perrin held her around the waist while she vomited, holding her close so that she didn't fall back into the water. When she was done spilling her guts, he hauled her up the last few feet to the deck and pushed her on board with a hard shove. Jenny lay there, exhausted. A warm tongue licked her face, accompanied by a whiff of bad breath and dog. Perrin scooped her up into his arms.

He was talking, but Jenny could barely hear him. No more buzz, but her ears felt plugged, stuffed with cotton, and her vision darkened. A tremendous sense of pressure overwhelmed her, as though her entire body was being squeezed to death. She saw rock, and felt heat, and heard the grind of rocks s.h.i.+fting deep in the earth's crust.

And in that crust, a claw.

A claw. A long, coiled body. A golden eye, s.h.i.+fting open.

Where are my dreams? rumbled a terrible voice, and the parasite twitched like a flexed muscle.

Here, said that dry voice, soothing and gentle. Your dreams are here.

No, Jenny thought desperately. I'm here. Me.

But the earth s.h.i.+fted again inside her mind, a wild ripple, and she rode that pulse of released energy, tumbled and breaking, clawing inside herself for anything to hold her steady.

Until hands caught her. Strong hands, strong arms.

Jenny snapped back into the real world, thrust from that dark place. Her heart raced. She felt nauseous again. The base of her skull throbbed.

She was sitting on the floor inside the yacht, and sagged forward, gulping air. Her lungs ached.

Perrin sat behind her, a warm, solid wall of muscle. Her head leaned against his shoulder, her arms resting against his bent legs. He held her snug around the waist, his hands pressed over her stomach. Holding her upright. Just holding her. She was more grateful for that than she cared to admit.