Keeper of the Moon - By Harley Jane Kozak Page 0,101

wings, and then it was gone, ascending out of sight.

Above the roar of the surf she heard a man shriek. Reggie. The shriek went on, sending chills up and down her spine, but grew increasingly faint, as if he had been plucked from the cliff wall by this creature from another era and carried off.

Her whole body quivered, unable to understand what she’d just seen, or to reconcile it with the natural world she knew. She was disoriented. She wondered if she was hallucinating.

If Reggie was truly gone, this was her chance to escape.

She pulled herself to the edge of the cave, only to see a wave hurtle toward her and crash against the surrounding rocks. She moved back, terrified. Water pooled on the floor of the cave, some of it sloshing back out to sea, but more of it staying in. The safety she’d felt had been no more than a magic trick. If the water kept rising, this would be her grave.

But it was better than being swept out to sea.

She thought of the cliff she’d climbed down, the steps that were the only way up. How far away were they? Fifty feet? It didn’t matter. The water was too deep for her to walk through anymore.

“Sailor.”

Was that the wind? Or a hallucination, or...

“Sailor!”

She moved her cramped limbs through shallow water to the mouth of her tiny cave.

In the sea, being tossed about, was a figure. A man.

Declan.

“Declan!” she cried. “Declan, I’m here!” She was shouting his name, screaming into the wind.

He saw her. He swam toward her, strong arms arcing through the much stronger surf. When he got close enough, he called, “Hello, love. Ready to go?”

“I don’t—I—” She was so cold, she realized, that she could barely speak.

“I can’t come in, so you’ll have to come out. That’s a very tight squeeze. Can you stretch your hand toward me?”

Fear gripped her. She tried to make her arm cooperate, but her reach was pitiful. It was as though she was paralyzed, with no idea how to pull herself out of the cave. Every animal instinct told her to stay. She saw herself as a sailing ship inside a bottle, unable to come through the neck.

“I—I can’t,” she said.

“You what?”

“I can’t. I can’t come out. I can’t swim.”

Declan was moving in and out with the surge, and she realized how hard this had to be for him, how dangerous it was, even for a strong swimmer, to be among these rocks at high tide. If he didn’t shift soon, he could well die.

As she realized that, the water swept him against the cliff and he found something to hang on to, maybe the same root that had helped her earlier. She had to lean further out now to see him, but there he was, bobbing like a cork, his chest rising out of the water and sinking back in as he held himself close to the cliff.

A huge wave came rushing toward them, and she moved back into the dark, terrified. Water sloshed around her. She was sitting in it now, inches of it, no matter where she positioned herself.

“Sailor!”

She moved back to the mouth of the cave and peered out to see Declan eight feet from her. She looked down. The water was so high that she could reach out and touch it.

“Look at me,” Declan commanded.

The moon had risen. By its light, nearly full, she could see the lightness of his eyes. She kept her focus on them, not the sea. “You don’t need to swim,” he continued. “Just get yourself out of that hole and into the water. I’ll do the rest.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I c-can’t.”

“You’re Sailor Ann Gryffald!” Declan yelled. “You can do anything you put your stubborn mind to.”

“Declan, I’m so sorry. I was wrong about so many things. I—”

“Tell me later. Come on. Time to go.”

She began to hyperventilate. Another wave would come and she would lose sight of him again. She couldn’t bear it. “Declan,” she called, “can you really turn yourself into a bird?”

“You didn’t see the show I put on? That was for you.”

“Can you be a sparrow?” she called. “Something little? And fly to me. Just come in here with me, be with me.”

A wave came, drowning out her words, and when she looked at him he was yelling, angry. “No, I bloody well can’t! I’m not watching you die. In sixty or seventy years, maybe. Tonight you’re coming with me.” He looked at the sea.