Chapter 49 Danica
Danica
Rhyland and I scour the landing like a couple of desperate treasure hunters, looking for anything that might help us get our asses over to that pirate ship.
I've got a gut feeling that's where the key is hiding, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's to trust my gut, even when it's telling me to do something that will probably get us killed.
Not to mention, my bracelet has been glowing non-stop since we swam into this cavern.
As I scan the area, my eyes land on valves jutting out from the walls on the opposite side of the cavern. "Hey, check it out," I say, pointing to the valves. "What do you think those are for?"
Rhyland follows my gaze. "Could be used to control the water levels."
I grimace, my mind racing with all the ways that could go horribly wrong.
Messing with those valves is like playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun.
We have no idea which valve does what, and if we accidentally add more water to this hellhole, we're going to be fish food faster than you can say, "Oh shit. "
I start walking along the ledge, my eyes scanning the walls for other options. And then I see it—a section of the wall separating us from the back of the cavern, crumbling and weak like one strong breeze away from collapsing.
I make my way over to it, running my hands over the cracked and crumbling stone. "Think you can use your superpowers to blast this thing?"
Rhyland's eyebrows shoot up, his expression skeptical. "You sure that's a good idea? What if the whole damn place comes crashing down on our heads?"
I roll my eyes, my patience wearing thinner than a threadbare thong. "Got any better ideas, tough guy? We need to get over there." I point to the back of the cavern, where I can see solid ground and a clear path to the ship.
Rhyland's jaw clenches, his eyes darting between the wall and the valves like he's trying to calculate the odds of survival. "Fuck it," he mutters, his hand clenching into a fist. "Stand back, baby. This might get messy."
I scramble back, my heart pounding as Rhyland approaches the wall. He closes his eyes in concentration as he reaches out with his power.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a crack like a gunshot, the wall explodes outward, sending chunks of stone and debris flying through the air like shrapnel.
I yelp, ducking down and covering my head as bits of rock rain around us. When the dust settles, I peek out from behind my arms, my eyes widening at the sight of the gaping hole in the wall.
"Holy shit," I breathe, my voice shaking with awe and disbelief. "Nice work."
We peer through the hole like a couple of kids trying to sneak a peek at their Christmas presents, our eyes scanning the area for any sign of danger. But nothing but a vast, cavernous space stretches before us.
The sound of rushing water fills my ears, and I cock my head to the side, trying to pinpoint the source. "Do you hear that?" I ask Rhyland, my voice echoing off the walls like a ghostly whisper.
He nods, his eyes narrowing as he listens. "It sounds like a waterfall."
From how the sound bounces around the cavern, I'm guessing it's somewhere outside.
We go through the opening, picking our way over the rubble and debris like mountain goats. The cavern opens up even more as we go, revealing a world of glowing algae and scattered pirate shit that looks like it's been here since the dawn of time.
The smell of salt and decay clings to the back of my throat like a sour aftertaste. It's like someone left a fish to rot in a locker room, and the stench is enough to make my eyes water, and I have to fight the urge to gag. But I push through it, my eyes fixed on the prize ahead.
We wind our way around the cavern until we're on the backside of the pirate ship, the hulking mass of wood and metal looming over us like a giant. It's still a reasonable distance away, but we can see a way to get to it from this angle.
"I think if we can tie a rope up there," I say, pointing to a beam that looks like it's been grown into the walls like a tree, "maybe we can swing across like a couple of discount Tarzans."
Rhyland raises an eyebrow. "Discount Tarzans? Really?"
I shrug, a grin spreading across my face. "Hey, if the loincloth fits..."
He shakes his head, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"
I wink at him, my heart skipping at how his eyes darken with desire.
"There's a plank we can jump onto over there," Rhyland points to a rickety-looking board sticking out of the ship's side like a rotting tooth. "That seems like our best bet."
I follow his gaze. "You've got to be kidding me," my voice flat with disbelief. "That thing looks like it's one strong fart away from crumbling into sawdust."
Rhyland grins, the expression cocky and infuriating and sexy as hell. "What's the matter, baby? Afraid of a little adventure?"
I snort, "Adventure? More like a one-way ticket to a watery grave. That thing wouldn't hold a stuffed animal—let alone two grown-ass adults."
Rhyland's grin widens, his eyes glinting with a challenge. "Only one way to find out."
I shake my head, my stomach churning with fear and exasperation. "No way. No fucking way. I am not risking my life on a piece of driftwood that looks like it's been chewed up and spit out by Jaws himself."
Rhyland is done with my bullshit. He takes off like a bullet, leaping for the plank like he's got springs in his feet.
He makes it in one jump, gripping the side and hauling himself up like it's nothing.
His muscles strain against his shirt, and I can't help but stare in appreciation a little, even in the middle of this life-or-death situation.
He stands up, stomping on the plank to prove a point. "Looks pretty damn sturdy to me."
I roll my eyes, my heart pounding as I realize what he expects me to do. "Okay, smartass," I mutter under my breath.
"Your turn, baby," he calls out. "Just run and don't stop. I'll catch you." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world as if he's asking me to toss him a beer from across the room.
Jesus Christ. I know I've got some serious Neo-level moves regarding combat, but long jumps?
That's a hard pass. With my luck, I'd probably do a graceful swan dive straight into the water, only to become a snack for our friendly neighborhood sea monster.
No thanks, I'll leave the Olympic-level leaps to the professionals and stick to kicking ass on solid ground.
But Rhyland, being the stubborn bastard he is, isn't taking no for an answer. "You got this, Angel," his voice softening slightly. "Come on."
I take a deep breath, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. I step back as far as I can, my eyes scanning the area for anything that might give me an advantage. And then I see it—a slight rise in the ground, just to my right. It's not much, but it might be enough to give me the boost I need.
I map out my jump like Sherlock Holmes, using the rise as a makeshift launching pad. I can practically see the equations floating in front of my eyes, the trajectory of my leap calculated down to the millimeter.
I'm gonna freaking die.
With a silent prayer, I dig my heels in and sprint like my life depends on it, which it does.
I wait until the exact second, my feet hitting the rise in the ground like I'm stepping on a trampoline. And then I launch myself into the air, my arms outstretched.
For a moment, I'm sure I will miss my mark. Rhyland and the plank seem to be moving away from me, the distance growing larger every second. But then, I feel this pull—like a magnet, my fingers close around Rhyland's wrist, his grip firm and sure on my arms.
I'm hanging on for dear life, my legs and lungs burning with the effort. But Rhyland, being the show-off he is, lifts me like I weigh nothing, crushing me against his chest as he blurs us off the narrow plank onto the ship's deck.
I collapse against him, my heart pounding. "Jesus," I gasp, my voice shaking with adrenaline and relief. "That was…"
Rhyland grins, his arms tightening around me like he'll never let go. "Told you I'd catch you, baby."
It had to be his telekinesis. That's the only explanation for how I felt like I was suddenly auditioning for Cirque du Soleil mid-air, defying gravity and managing to stick that landing like an Olympic gymnast.
One second, I think, "Well, this is how I die," and the next, I float through the air like Mary Poppins on a sugar high.
"Okay, Obi-Wan. Did you use your Jedi mojo to turn me into a human projectile? Because I'm pretty sure I didn't grow wings in the last five minutes."
Rhyland, the smug bastard, grins. "What can I say, baby? I couldn't let you go for another swim with our resident sea monster. Besides, you've got to admit, it was pretty impressive."
I roll my eyes. I hate to admit it, but I know he's right. Rhyland will always be there to catch me, no matter how far I fall.
We waste no time scouring the ship, looking for anything resembling a key. The boards creak and groan beneath our feet, but they hold steady, which is a minor miracle, considering this vessel looks like it's been around for centuries.
We find a set of stairs leading below deck, and as we descend into the ship's bowels, my jaw nearly hits the floor. We're greeted by a treasure trove that would make even the most seasoned pirate weep joyfully.
"Well, slap my ass and call me a landlubber," I breathe, my eyes wide with wonder. "This is quite the haul."
Everywhere I look, treasure chests overflow with glittering jewels, shiny coins, and enough gold to make Midas himself green with envy. The entire floor is blanketed in a sea of riches, the sheer luxury almost blinding.
Rhyland, being the cocky bastard he is, apparently takes my snarky commentary as an open invitation. He delivers a sharp smack to my leather-clad ass, the crack of it echoing through the chamber like a gunshot.
"Damn straight, it's a haul."