Shattered by the Sea Lord - Starla Night Page 0,78

But do you know what I learned? Your new Atlantis is made of exiles. Not even your weak All-Council will help you now.”

“I do not need their help.”

“You poisoned your bride with a strange human concoction. We destroyed the rest before you could poison the rest of the brides.” Lieutenant Orike curled his lip. “And after we imprison you, we will liberate the rest of the young fry from the weak humans and train them to be proud Luscan warriors.”

Help me, Dannika. I must defeat this patrol and escape to warn you. Think strong thoughts.

Itime rotated his trident, like Ciran, clearly seeking the weakest warrior to make his best chance for an escape. “Only traitors violate the sanctuary of the brides’ island.”

“You violated it first. The Undine must suffer for his arrogance.”

Ciran picked out his best chance, then pointed the trident at Lieutenant Orike. “Come and get me then.”

Lieutenant Orike’s eyes narrowed. “Did you enjoy using a real weapon, exile?”

“Greatly. I used it to lever the wreckage apart.”

His nostrils flared. “You did not.”

Ciran nodded, never removing his eyes from the weakest warrior.

“He did,” Itime said calmly. “I saw him.”

Lieutenant Orike gritted his teeth. “Patrol? Do not kill these warriors. The king wants them alive. But he does not care about the condition in which they arrive.” Lieutenant Orike lowered his backup trident at Ciran. “And I am going to enjoy beating you.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two weeks after the warriors had left, Dannika awoke in a sweating panic.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The night sky faded into dawn. Stars winked out on the horizon and the sky turned a pale white like the inside of an egg. A cool breeze rustled through the coconut palms and shivered through the long island grass. It chilled Dannika’s sweat-dampened skin. She hugged herself.

The nightmare faded slowly.

Someone had locked her in a tiny coral-lined room, her body aching as though she’d been beaten nearly to death. Ciran’s voice had echoed. “I am sorry, Dannika. I was not the warrior you needed.” And then a warrior she didn’t recognize, an older guy with a massive scar running down his face through his left eye, appeared in the window to the coral prison and vibrated, “Feed him to the kraken.”

And she’d jolted awake.

It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

She hugged Ciran’s Sea Opal to her chest. Even though it had cracked inside, the outside was smooth. It held together, fractured, but whole.

Dannika touched it to her forehead. Be safe. Be strong. I’m thinking of you.

And then, with a lump in her throat, You are the warrior I needed. You’re my soul mate. Come back, Ciran. Please come back.

The boulder crushing her chest rolled off, just for a little, and she breathed deeply. Could she go back to sleep like on the past three mornings? … No. Even though she felt better, uncertain dread lingered on the periphery of her consciousness.

Dannika rolled out of the hammock, folded the scratchy grass blanket protecting her from tarantulas and who knew what else, and sauntered to the main structure.

Angie was already chopping a green pumpkin for breakfast. “You’re up early again.”

Come to think of it, Dannika hadn’t slept in since she’d left New York. And compared to the nightmares, she’d much prefer to be awoken by nude warriors, tall or small. “Do you need any help?”

“I couldn’t ask a guest.” Angie smiled at her. Lines around her eyes showing just how hard she worked to stay in pleasant denial of their situation.

“I know.” Dannika sat beside her on the mat. “I need to do something with my hands.”

“Well, in that case.” Angie passed over a pumpkin and coral knife. “You can peel.”

Dannika sat with the older woman and peeled pumpkins into a woven basket.

Early morning bugs skittered in and out. The sea birds cawed. Out on the shore, Bex stood alone at the water’s edge, gazing the direction the warriors had gone.

Meg stumbled to the preparation mat yawning and rubbing her eyes. She blinked and peered at the piled-high basket of peeled, chopped pumpkins. “Mom, you made too much again.”

“Did I?” Angie dropped her knife and sighed. “We’ll save them or use them up one way or another.”

“That’s what you said after Luk and Prince Ankena disappeared.” Meg collapsed on the mat. “Do you remember how much we threw away?”

“This is fruit. I’ll make a wine.”

Everyone dropped silent.

The island, which had seemed like a paradise when she’d arrived, now closed in on Dannika. She’d walked its beaches and trails every day, searched for seashells