The Rebel King (All the King's Men Duet #2) - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,51

on those nights.”

“The sky is so dark,” she says, reclining in the hull of the boat and tipping her head back to stare at the hypnotic swirl of stars overhead. It’s a cathedral sky at night, lit with starry sconces and cosmic candelabra. “It makes the stars brighter.”

My girl who chases stars.

“It’s because there’s less light pollution here than in most places,” I tell her. “And they protect this bay from mixing with other water sources, which keeps the water free of pollution in a way most aren’t. The combination of the really dark sky and the really clear water creates perfect conditions for a unique phenomenon.”

She looks around as if wondering what’s so phenomenal about a bunch of people kayaking in the dark. I grin, secretly relishing the chance to show her, and take a paddle from the boat floor to run it through the water. Immediately, trails of light flare under the surface. Her startled gasp is followed by an uncharacteristic giggle.

I hand her a paddle. “You try.”

She dips the paddle in, stroking slowly through the water, watching it shimmer, lighting it up.

“Oh my gosh.” She covers her mouth, laughter leaking between her fingers. “That’s freaking amazing.”

All around us, the tour groups drag their paddles through the water, and soon, there’s so much light shining beneath the surface, we’re floating on sunbeams, rainbows, underwater solar flares.

“It’s beautiful.” She swings her head from side to side and peers over her shoulder, taking it in. “What is it?”

“Do you want to appreciate the beauty or know the boring part that makes it beautiful?”

“Is it boring to you?”

“No, it fascinates me.”

“Then you’ll make it fascinating for me.”

“It’s called bioluminescence, which is basically when an organism produces light based on various factors, depending on the species.”

“That’s a very sexy brain you’ve got there, Mr. Cade.”

I wink at her. “Be a good girl and I’ll let you touch it.”

“Ew.” She scrunches up her face. “You had to go and make it weird.”

“It’s what I do. So, dinoflagellates are here in Tomales Bay, and they produce light when disturbed. A paddle or fingers running through the water, or other fish swimming past or brushing against them, or even just the boat cutting through the water, could set off the light.”

The other groups keep moving, so now we’re alone on a sheet of glowing water. It casts a blue-green glow on her face, and I can’t look anywhere else. Even the glorious underwater show can’t compare to the sculpted brows and the sweet sweep of her lashes. The curve of her cheekbones and the obstinate jut of her chin.

“What’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been?” she asks after a few moments of silence.

“You.”

She blinks a few times, shaking her head, giving me a look redolent with affection. “Place you’ve ever been.”

My answer’s the same, but I know what she means. “I don’t know. It’s hard to compare all these places that offer something uniquely beautiful.”

I glance up at the dark sky and mentally impose a curtain of azure, emerald, and scarlet, swirling in an atmospheric lightshow. “I’d love to take you to Antarctica one day to see the southern lights.”

“Antarctica, huh?” she teases with a laughing glance. “Sounds like a real vacay.”

“Trust me. You’d love it. People always talk about the northern lights, but the southern lights are just as fantastic. Aurora Australis. Antarctica is spectacular.”

“Not a word I would have ever thought to apply to a frozen tundra.”

“You have to see it, I guess. Don’t get me wrong. It’s one of the toughest places I’ve ever been. Nearly uninhabitable, especially in the long, sunless winter, but Grim used to say it was like another planet. You see and hear things there you can’t see or hear most other places on Earth.”

“Like what? Tell me.”

“There’s illusions,” I say, hearing the eagerness enter my own voice from the memory of the wonders I experienced when we wintered over. “These microscopic ice crystals are suspended in the air, and it changes how light and sound travel.”

I wonder if she’s bored yet, but in the glow of stars from above and the bioluminescence from below, her eyes are locked on me, rapt, so I go on.

“The cold literally bends the sound waves differently there than at lower altitudes, bending them down toward the surface instead of up. Soft snow absorbs sound energy better and mutes it, but hard-crusted snow like you find in Antarctica doesn’t absorb as well. Sound literally bounces off the harder, smooth ice surface.”

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