Chapter 22 #2
“No,” Kellan replied. “They extended their congratulations in that regard. But they think our worries are not unfounded. When I told them Sawyer called her by name...”
Ciaran glanced at Dylan before meeting Kellan’s gaze, and he knew... he knew what it meant.
Kellan clearly did, too, because he gave a tight smile, acting like everything was fine. “They’ll be here next week.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Ciaran didn’t want that. He didn’t want any of this to be happening.
Sawyer took Ciaran’s hand. “Hey.”
“I hope you don’t think I overstepped—” Kellan tried.
“Not at all,” Ciaran said quickly. “I appreciate it. I know my attention has been...” He looked at Sawyer and smiled, squeezing their joined hands. “Elsewhere.”
But Sawyer didn’t smile back. “If you need to be somewhere... I can get up and get dressed...”
“No,” Ciaran said quietly, rubbing his thumb over Sawyer’s knuckles.
Ciaran could feel Sawyer’s anguish. “I don’t want to monopolise your time,” he said. “You’re their leader, and I respect that, so if you need to—”
“He’s where he needs to be,” Kellan said, still standing at the door. He gave Sawyer a sad smile that he schooled when his gaze drifted to Ciaran.
Ciaran knew Kellan was right, but it still didn’t make him feel any less guilty.
Then it was Sawyer who squeezed Ciaran’s hand. “I can feel your turmoil.”
Ciaran tried to smile for him, tried to pretend he wasn’t torn between his consortium obligations and his hearts. “And I can feel yours.”
“Sawyer,” Kellan said. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“In the water, what did you see?”
Sawyer’s face changed as if he remembered his fondest memory. “It’s so beautiful. Like being in the stars.”
Ciaran’s gaze flickered to Kellan’s, the doctor’s concern matching his own. Even Dylan frowned.
“What did you hear?” Kellan asked.
“In the water?” Sawyer clarified. “Nothing. Not really. But when I was on the pier....” He looked at Ciaran then. “This is gonna sound really weird.” Then he gave Ciaran an apologetic grimace. “To be honest, I’m not sure what’s weird or what’s normal anymore.”
“You heard something on the pier,” Kellan prompted.
“Yes,” Sawyer replied. “I heard... a voice. But not a literal voice, I don’t think. But it spoke to me all the same, pulling me toward the water. Calling me.”
Ciaran’s hearts were staccato drums, his stomach a greasy knot. Which, of course, Sawyer felt.
“No, no,” he said quickly, pulling on Ciaran’s hand.
“It wasn’t a bad thing. It was actually kinda beautiful, and it’s so peaceful in the water, I can see why you love it.
...” His words trailed off, and he looked from Ciaran to Kellan and back again.
“Oh. It’s, uh... it is a bad thing? Both your faces.
... I mean, I know falling in water isn’t a good thing, and if Tobin hadn’t pulled me out—it was Tobin, right? I thought I recognised him—”
“It’s not good,” Ciaran said. “He said you smiled at him like it was perfectly normal for you to be at the bottom of the Cove. Which it’s not, Sawyer. In case you didn’t already know. You’re human, with very human lungs.”
“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”
“Tobin also said you weren’t alone down there,” Ciaran added. “Same thing Dylan said the first time you went in.”
Confusion crossed Sawyer’s face, and he looked as if he was trying to remember. “I never saw anyone else.”
“You said it looks like the stars,” Kellan said.
“Yes. Like floating in a galaxy or glittery dust motes. It’s beautiful and like no other water I’ve seen.” His gaze tracked from Ciaran to Kellan and back again. “Does it not look like that for you?”
“Well, yes,” Ciaran replied. “But it shouldn’t for you. And it doesn’t even for us in human form. It just looks like normal water. But when we’re in freeform... well, it looks like what you’re describing.”
Sawyer, of course, thought this was a great development, if his excitement was anything to go by. “Really?”
Ciaran and Kellan exchanged glances again.
“Hmm,” Kellan hummed. “I can’t help but wonder if your bonding is the reason.”
“It was like that before,” Sawyer said. “The first time I went in. It was beautiful. And we weren’t bonded then.”
“That’s true,” Ciaran noted. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like any of this.
He didn’t want Sawyer affected in any kind of way.
“Not by body,” Kellan said. “You weren’t bonded by body, but your souls were already aligned. The second you got here and saw Ciaran, it was sealed.”
Ciaran sighed and brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing Sawyer’s knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“What for?” Sawyer asked.
“That you... that you underwent changes. That you were changed because of me. We had no way of knowing—”
“That’s exactly right,” Sawyer said. “We had no way of knowing. You’re not to blame here. You heard what Kellan said. That shit was decided before I stepped off Tobin’s boat.”
Ciaran wasn’t convinced. If he hadn’t—
“Hey,” Sawyer said sternly, and Ciaran could feel his anger brewing. “We’re not doing guilt here. Not a fucking bar of it. Are we clear?”
Dylan snorted from the next room, and even Kellan smirked at that.
“Okay,” Kellan said quietly. “We’ll leave you alone. Sawyer, you need rest, propped upright as you are now, preferably. Ciaran, you know where I am if you need me for anything.”
Ciaran gave him a nod. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Can I ask something else?” Sawyer said as Kellan turned to leave. “Before you go, sorry. I mean, thank you as well for looking after me, but about the voice. The one calling me into the water. Well, it wasn’t really a voice, more like an echo. Something far away but inside my head.”
Ciaran didn’t want to discuss this in front of Dylan. “We can talk about that later,” he tried.
“What voice?” Dylan asked warily.
“The woman I heard,” Sawyer answered. “Her name. She didn’t tell me, exactly, but I somehow just know it from hearing her in my head.”
“You called her an old god,” Ciaran offered, voice barely a whisper.
Sawyer’s eyes caught Ciaran’s. “I did? I don’t remember that.”
Sawyer was smiling, but Ciaran couldn’t even force himself to reciprocate. He glanced at Dylan. This was not good...
“Her name?” Dylan asked, voice eerily detached.
He didn’t need to ask.
He knew it already.
They all did.
Sawyer looked at Ciaran, perhaps confused by Ciaran’s trepidation, which he had to have been able to feel, answered anyway. “Lusca.”
Dylan was pale and silent. Ciaran closed his eyes slowly wishing he could turn back time, to even a minute ago, to before Sawyer had said that name out loud, before he’d made it real.
“Dylan,” Kellan said.
But Dylan took a step back, a look of horror on his face, then ran out of the room.
Ciaran stood up, but Kellan raised his hand. “I’ll go after him,” he said. “Stay here, rest easy. We’ll talk again soon.”
Then Kellan was gone, and Ciaran sat back on the bed with a heavy sigh.
“Is Dylan okay?” Sawyer asked. “He freaked out in Hobart when those other guys said she was coming.”
Ciaran sighed. “He has anxiety. He’s always had nightmares, and his imagination gets the better of him....” Ciaran shrugged. “Kellan and Hendrix usually talk him down or go freeform with him for a while. It helps.”
Sawyer slid his hand into Ciaran’s and gave it a squeeze. “Kellan’s good with him.”
“He is.”
They were quiet for a moment, then Sawyer sighed. “So I really said Lusca was an old god,” Sawyer murmured. “Like, an old Nordic god? Is that... is that what we’re facing here?”
Ciaran gave a nod and took Sawyer’s hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles, not so much for Sawyer’s comfort as for his own. “She has had many names,” he said, voice detached even to his own ears. “Throughout history. From many different cultures.”
“Scandinavian cultures,” Sawyer surmised. “What the hell is she doing down here?”
“There’s a trench off the southwest continental shelf of Tasmania, toward Antarctica,” Ciaran said. “The Tasman Fracture trench. It’s deep. And it’s grown silent, like all marine life has up and left.”
“Animals know,” Sawyer whispered. “Animals know before disaster strikes. Like the forest.”
Ciaran nodded. “Yes.”
“But you guys don’t? Don’t you have octo-senses that tell you when there’s gonna be an earthquake or something?”
Ciaran almost smiled. “Not like that.”
“But....” His eyebrows furrowed. “If the marine life has gone and left already, that means it’s imminent, right? Like, any day now? Not weeks away.”
Ciaran met his gaze. “Probably. It would make sense. But we don’t know for certain.”
“And what’s with the trench? Why is that important?”
“It’s believed there are gateways to the underworld.” Ciaran made a face. “It sounds crazy, I know. But the old stories say she came from the Norwegian Trench in the North Sea.”
Sawyer made a thoughtful face before he shrugged. “Old gods, gateways to the underworld. None of that is any crazier than anything else I’ve learned since I got here.”
Ciaran put his hand on Sawyer’s face, searching his eyes. “I feel bad for dragging you into this. The timing couldn’t be worse.”
Sawyer seemed to realise something then. He froze, and Ciaran could feel the spike of fear that lurched through him. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re in danger,” Sawyer said. Then he pressed his hand to his forehead. “Of course you are. What a stupid thing to say. This is dangerous, right? Like, really bad. People might die, yes? Like you might actually be fucking killed? Christ, Ciaran—”
“Hey,” he said, his tone as soothing as he could manage. “We’ll be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” Sawyer argued, but then he began to cough again.
Ciaran rubbed his back. “You should be resting. Doctor’s orders.”
Sawyer shot him a look that said, “You seriously cannot expect me to rest right now,” but then there was a knock at the door.
“Hello, we’re coming in. Please don’t be naked.”
Fray.
Ciaran heard Otis laugh.
Fray and Otis, which made Ciaran smile. Two friendly faces were everything Ciaran needed to see.