wailing, the kind of shrieks that heralded the coming of a brutal death. Their torment was horrific, the pain of souls being ripped apart for an eternity of suffering.
She froze, horrified by the sound. What was that? Was that the Mageaan? If it was, it was so much worse than she'd expected. She'd heard the stories. She'd been warned a thousand times. But there had been no way to comprehend the depths of such suffering. The edge to their screams was like a blade shredding the night. Was that her future? Was that what she would become without the pearl to protect her?
Real terror rippled through her. I can't do this. Her hand faltered, and she started to lower it—
A violent gust of wind slammed into her shoulders from behind, thrusting her forward off the edge of the rock. She screamed as she was thrust into the air, and then the wind tore the pearl from her grasp. "No!"
Anguish tore through her as she lunged for it, but her hand closed on empty air as the pearl plummeted down toward the water, the wind howling in triumph, as if the Mageaan themselves had compelled it to help them. Beneath her swelled the mist, but it was no longer white. It was a seething, frothing purple and black pool of poison—
"Hey!" A hand clamped around her wrist, jerking her backwards.
Alice gasped as she ricocheted back against the side of the rock, her body slamming into hard granite, suspended above the tumultuous ocean by one arm. She looked up, and her heart stuttered when she saw Ian down on one knee on the top of the rock, his fingers locked around her wrist. "No, no!" She tugged at her arm. "Let me go! I have to get the pearl! I dropped it in the water!" Frantic, she kicked at the rock, trying to tear herself out of his grasp.
"Hey!" He tightened his grip, ocean water streaming down his arm over his hand. "A pearl? You're serious? You'll never find a pearl down there. That ocean is trying to kill you."
"I don't care! Let me go!" Without the pearl, she had nothing: no future for herself and no way to find Catherine. "I have to get it!" Frantic, she twisted around to search the frothing depths, but her heart sank when she saw the ocean churning beneath her. Hate-filled green and purple swells were fighting to get to her, to reclaim the victim they'd lost once. Deadly mist swirled over the surface of the water.
She couldn't survive that. There was no way she could reclaim her pearl from that. Despair coursed through her, utter despair. It was gone. Without it, Catherine was lost to her. One moment of fear and hesitation for her own stupid life, and she'd lost her chance. Frustration and guilt burned through Alice, and all the fight drained from her body. She hung limply from Ian's grasp, the cold wet rock pressing against her as she dangled over her death. This couldn't happen again. She couldn't fail again.
"Alice." Ian's voice was low. Impatient. "Look at me."
She pulled her gaze from the ocean and looked up, compelled by the urgency in his voice. The moment she met his intense gaze, awareness coursed through her. Awareness of the man, of herself, of something more personal than it should have been. Fear rippled through her, fear of the warrior who held her wrist.
"I've never met someone more likely to die than I am," he said conversationally, as if he weren't the only thing standing between her and a nightmare. "It's damned inconvenient."
She met his gaze, her jaw jutting out. "I'm not afraid of death."
"No, I can see that." One eyebrow was raised, but his eyes were cool and calculating. Water was streaming down his arm over hers, but his grip was tight and secure. "What is it that you are afraid of, Alice?"
What was she afraid of? Unbidden, the memory flashed into her mind. Her mother, blood pouring from a wound in her chest, laboring to breathe. Her mother's blond hair matted with blood and dirt, her bright blue eyes glazed over with the onset of death, her lips parted as she fought to share those last words while Alice sat there, inches away, unable to do the one simple thing that would have saved her life—
Ian's gaze sharpened. Who is that in your mind, sheva? Who died like that? His voice was soft and gentle, reaching deep into her soul, tearing