superior to Weston, she still feared him. “He wanted to marry me. Wanted to ask your permission.”
Weston’s face contorted awfully. He bit his lower lip. Sneered. His eyes twitched. And then he went placid. He couldn’t blame her. She knew nothing of modern men, charm, or lies. He should have known better than to leave her alone with a man like King.
Lucy pointed out his ring finger. “You are married. You are loved. And I am not!”
Weston shook his head sadly and rubbed her hair with his hand. He pulled her against his side and hugged her. “Everything he told you was a lie. No one could love you more than me.”
A second loud call sounded from the top of the cliff entrance. As Weston headed for the temple exit, Lucy took his arm. “What about the human woman?”
“They won’t make it past us, and the other exits are well concealed. We will find them both when we return.”
Lucy held on. “And then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I kill them?”
He paused, looking in Lucy’s eyes. “You are too eager for blood, Lucy. There is a time for such things, but not every problem can be solved through violence. They are trapped and sooner or later will expose themselves or starve to death.”
Lucy pounded the stone floor. Weston felt the vibration beneath his feet. “The mothers would kill them. They are strong and fearless.”
Weston did his best to hide his growing concern. Not just for his well-being—Lucy could kill him in seconds—but for the state of his family. What did Lucy know of the mothers? They were expelled long before she was born. All she knew was that they were to be shunned. But her knowledge of them went beyond the stories told to the Nguoi Rung children. She had either been told these things by someone else or had direct contact with the old mothers. And if that were the case, how many of the other children had been exposed to their primitive influence? If there was dissension growing, he would not be outdone by the vapid intellect of the mothers. “Kill them, then. Kill them both.”
Lucy leaped and clapped, giggling with excitement. They exited the temple together.
AS THE FISH came to realize that the new additions to the pond were not edible, they backed off, allowing King to tug on Sara’s arm. She blinked her eyes open, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of being underwater, and perhaps nearly out of breath. She held her nose with one hand and pushed away fish with the other.
King pointed across the underwater chamber to a square of light that signified another exit above. They swam together toward the light and then arced slowly up; hoping Weston and Lucy had already left.
As they reached the halfway point, Sara began kicking wildly. Almost out of air, she was desperate to reach the top. King pulled her up and helped her rise more quickly. As they ascended through parting waves of fish, he held his finger up to his lips. The message was clear—no matter how badly you want to breathe, do it quietly.
They breached the water together, rising just above the surface. Sara did her best to suck air in quietly, but couldn’t stop a gentle wheeze from escaping. King pulled himself slowly out of the water, taking care not to splash, and then pulled Sara out behind him. She fell to the cold stone floor, still clinging to her wad of now-saturated clothes, taking in mouthfuls of air like a dying fish stuck on the shore.
He glanced through the doorway and saw Weston and Lucy exiting the temple, hustling through the snake-shaped balustrades and moving toward the large exit.
He turned back to Sara, who had sat up. “They’re gone.”
She nodded and smiled. “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, enjoying his look of bewilderment. “I have the cure for Brugada.”
King’s face scrunched, but not in confusion. He stumbled, caught himself, and then fell to the floor. He landed on his back, one arm hanging over the top step toward Sara and the fish pool below. His face fell flat and still. His eyes open wide and unmoving.
Dead.
Brugada.
Sara knew what had happened, and like she did with Rook, she waited for the cardioverter defibrillator to do its thing. But nothing happened. Sara gasped as she realized that King wouldn’t be coming back. The electric shock torture he’d endured at the hands of the VPLA had no doubt short-circuited the small device implanted in King’s chest.