Deep Betrayal

moving. “When fall comes—assuming we’re both still alive—I’ll need to look for warmer waters. It’ll be time for you to start college.”
    “I don’t need college if I’m going to be a poet. All I need is inspiration.”
    “Don’t you think you’re being a little naive?”
    “Wherever you go when summer’s over, I’m going with you,” I said, my voice raising an octave.
    “You are?” Then his face fell. “I can’t have you do that.”
    “Why? Would I cramp your style in the Bahamas?”
    He scowled at me. “This isn’t a joke.”
    “No,” I said. “It’s not. I love you, Calder. And I want to hear you say you love me, too.”
    “It’s just a word, Lily.”
    “So you’re telling me you can’t say it.”
    He shifted his shoulders and fidgeted nervously with the nautical charts, folding them messily and storing them away. “I’ve said it. Once, when you were asleep. Just to see how it sounded.
    “Thing is, Lily, I never thought love was possible. Not for me. Not for my kind. Then you came along and changed that. I have allowed myself to love you—” He broke off and looked at me, his eyes full of pain. Then he sighed in exasperation. At me? At himself?
    “Please understand,” he said. “It feels too dangerous. When I look back on my life, I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. I can’t lose you, too.
    “Not saying the word out loud … not admitting it to the universe, maybe it’s stupid, but this is my way of keeping you safe.”
    “I appreciate the sentiment, but—”
    “I can’t think about this now, Lily. We’re here. This is the spot Dr. Coyote marked. It’s time to go in.”
    His words caught me unprepared, and I looked around nervously. Dr. Coyote’s approximation of Maighdean Mara’s whereabouts seemed more likely to be accurate than the Cornucopia boys’, but did that also mean she wasn’t the monster they thought she was?
    Dr. Coyote had called her a benefactor. I didn’t like the idea of attacking something that had taken such care of human beings. But then again, if she had turned on us, if she was now a killer … Once more, I hoped the dagger was sufficiently sharp.
    Calder busied himself with the anchor, then found some tiebacks to strap the dagger to his arm. He looked at me with purpose and put both hands on my shoulders. “Ready, then?” he asked.
    Those two words imbued me with confidence. He was not going to argue with me about staying behind. We would do this together. I put one foot up on the rail and, keeping my eyes on his face, stepped up and over the side of the boat.
    I sliced through the water, feeling everything rush upward—my blood to my ears, my hair trailing. I don’t know how deep I plummeted. The water here was different than anywhere else I’d been. Neither cold nor warm, it felt—if it was possible—alive. I could recognize each molecule individually as it bumped and trembled along the length of my limbs. The humming made the water feel dry, as if a thin layer of air outlined my body.
    The only disruption to the steady vibration was when Calder shot through the water and exploded in silver shards of light. I shielded my eyes, feeling shrapnel of pure energy penetrate my skin. When I dared to look, Calder was inches from my face.
    His hand slipped behind my neck and he kissed me hard, crushing his lips to mine. Only then did I truly feel what he’d been trying to tell me before. To lose him now would be impossible to bear.
    Calder pulled back from the kiss and unsheathed the dagger. He held it firmly in his hand and pulled me along beside him toward the source of the heat.
    As we dove deeper, the water swirled into unnatural patterns of lilac and green, and then intensified by the fathomto violet and jade. As the color deepened, my skin burned. The vibrations burrowed deep into my flesh, making their way into my bloodstream and racing for my heart. What was this place? There were no underwater landmarks; the surface seemed miles away. The sun was nothing more than a pinprick from another galaxy, and still I had no need for air.
    Calder led me on, nearing the lake floor, to a large boulder, which hummed like a beehive. As we closed in, Calder abruptly dropped my hand and put on the brakes, skittering backward a few strokes before hesitating and leaning forward again. He reached, hands trembling, toward the boulder.
    It was black and lichen green with coppery flecks, oval in shape, like the deformed egg of some