Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The water was still dim when Jax and Macy left the cave; the sun had only just begun cresting, and the gray-blue sky bled first to pink, then to golden as it approached the horizon.
They held hands as they swam. Though it slowed their pace, it was a comfort to them both.
They hadn’t seen the razorback during their excursions over the last several days, but Jax would never forget how close they’d come to tragedy.
He was reluctant to allow Macy beyond his reach.
Jax kept close to the coastal cliffs as they moved; the rocks had been their salvation when the razorback attacked, and he’d not risk another chase to reach cover.
They saw a variety of fish on the way — grayfish, spinefish, gulpers, and dozens more Jax had no name for — but it was the basketmouths that caught Macy’s attention.
Longer than razorbacks, the basketmouths glided near the surface, their long, flat bodies flowing behind him as they held their wide mouths open.
Despite their size, their only prey were creatures so tiny they were nearly invisible.
Finally, they reached the Broken Cavern.
It had been years since Jax’s last visit, and he’d forgotten the strangeness of the place.
When he’d first found it, he’d thought — in his inexperience — that it was a natural cave, somehow overlooking the perfectly shaped planes of the walls and floor.
It seemed, from outside, to be part of the cliff face.
He knew now that it had been built by humans.
Macy’s eyes were wide as she looked from side to side. The floor was flat and deep — as deep as seven or eight kraken, stretched end-to-end — and the walls extended over the water level. It was dark inside, and as they left the last of the meager daylight behind, Jax cast his own glow.
Smiling, Macy moved her gaze over him appreciatively, just as she had two nights before when they joined beneath the starry sky. Though this was neither the time nor the place, his blood heated with arousal.
When they were far enough inside to see the huge chunks of crumbled stone on the bottom, he brought Macy to the surface, blinked the water from his eyes, and swept his gaze about.
The Broken Cavern was the largest cave he’d ever found; the ceiling was so high that it was lost in darkness, but a huge crack allowed the still-gray morning light to filter through it. At some point in its existence, the roof had broken open, dumping stone into the water.
To either side, the walls jutted a body’s length over the surface, like perfectly flat, symmetrical cliffs. Two metal bridges spanned one side to the other. The center of one of the bridges was missing, its edges twisted and bent. Massive chains hung from thick posts set into the tops of the walls.
“All this time, we never knew… How do we not know about these places in The Watch?” Macy’s voice, though soft, echoed off the walls.
“I cannot say, Macy. All of this was made many years ago, and the people who walked here are long dead.”
They swam to one of the ladders set into the wall. Jax allowed Macy to climb the metal rungs first and hauled himself up behind her. The metal groaned under his weight.
Macy stood on the stone walkway, mask in hand and head tilted back as she surveyed the huge chamber. She stepped to the second wall, leaning forward to examine the fading, flaked paint upon it, and pulled back her hood.
The painting had been the only reason Arkon agreed to come here after Jax discovered it years ago.
It was in slightly worse condition, now, but the basic shapes were still clear — stretching from one end of the wall to the other, it depicted humans of various shapes and sizes.
Time had largely obscured their features, but their joy was apparent.
Arkon had said someone created the image by hand in the ancient days.
Jax had always harbored doubts about that… Before meeting Macy, at least.
“This is amazing. What was it used for?” She turned and walked to one of the posts, running her hand over one of the huge chain links.
Jax moved closer to her, glancing up at the broken ceiling. When was the last time a piece had fallen?
“I don’t know, Macy.”
“This stuff is almost like mooring…but I’ve never seen ships big enough for this.”
“There are some, on the seafloor,” he replied distractedly. “You should move back for now, out of sight. Until Arkon has come.”
Macy met his gaze. “Okay. You’re…sure?”
Jax nodded and gestured to the steps cut out in the wall behind them; they led up to the next level, from which the bridges connected the two sides.
Macy climbed the steps and settled herself as far back as she could, leaning against the wall. She placed her mask beside her and folded her hands in her lap.
Positioning himself between Macy and the ladder, Jax crossed his arms over his chest and rested his elbow on a nearby post. An unfamiliar, restless energy flowed through him; he willed his limbs to still.
He was so unused to the feeling that he didn’t immediately recognize it: nervousness.
Soon, he heard movement in the water and shifted his attention toward it.
Arkon’s glow was unmistakable as he swam to the ladder. He climbed swiftly, stopped atop the walkway, and looked at the faded painting. “It has been a long while since I came here.”
“I know. This place is fitting, though.”
Meeting Jax’s gaze, Arkon frowned. “No more vagueness, Jax. It doesn’t suit you. What do you wish to show me?”
Jax turned to the painting. The people it depicted wore clothing that looked nothing like Macy’s, and many of them had different coloring and features, but they were all clearly human. Her people, for better or worse, had made this place, had made the Facility, had made the kraken.
“A human,” Jax finally said.
“Your attempts at humor are strange, Jax.”
“I’m not being humorous. I’ve been away for so long because I rescued a human female from the sea during the last storm and have been living with her since.”
“This…” It wasn’t often Arkon was speechless; Jax couldn’t help feeling a pang of satisfaction at it, despite his nervousness. “Have you gone mad, Jax? You…you’re serious?”
Jax twisted to look behind. “Macy, please come and meet Arkon.”
Her footfalls were quiet as she stepped into the open. She looked into Jax’s eyes before she turned toward Arkon, smiled, and raised her hand in greeting. “Hello, Arkon.”
Features slack, Arkon looked from Macy to Jax. A tiny crease appeared in the center of his brow. “You have a human,” he said, flatly.
“Her name is Macy.”
“Macy.” Arkon tilted his head and parted his lips as though to speak, but it was several moments before he produced a sound. “My apologies if I’m… You must understand, this…this is…”
She laughed; the sound was amplified by the cave, but was no less beautiful for it. She stopped beside Jax. “I understand very well.”
“Of course. Typically, I’m somewhat more articulate. Jax has a reputation for pushing into the unknown, but this is unprecedented, even for him.” Arkon moved a little closer. “You’re wearing one of the suits from the Pool Room.”
Macy settled a hand over her stomach. “Jax gave it to me.”
“What function does it fulfill? I’ve been curious about those suits for a long while.”
“It goes with the mask,” she gestured behind her, though the mask was out of sight, “and together they protect me underwater. Otherwise, I can’t be under for more than about thirty seconds, and anything below a certain depth could kill me.”
“So humans can’t survive underwater…”
“Apparently not,” Jax said.
“You’re a different color than Jax.”
“Yes.” Arkon spread his arms to the sides and glanced down at himself. “Most of us are, even if variations are only slight. Is it not the same for your kind?”
“It is,” Macy replied. “My friend Aymee is tanner than me, and her hair is brown. Some humans have lighter or darker skin, and different colored eyes and hair. I guess it’s just not something I think about much because it’s normal to me.
The colors I see on you and Jax are different… and we don’t change colors, either.”
“They do,” Jax corrected, “but it is much subtler, and they cannot control it.”
Arkon moved closer still, stopping immediately in front of Macy.
Jax tensed for a moment. His instinct was to protect, but he trusted his friend.
Lifting a hand, Arkon brushed his fingertips over Macy’s hair. Jax recalled his own curiosity and fascination all too well; neither had truly diminished, but it didn’t make it easier to watch another male touch her.
Arkon’s nostrils flared, and he met Jax’s gaze. “Your scent…”
Jaw clenched, Jax nodded. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction in himself, couldn’t have guessed he’d feel this way, but there was no denying it. Macy was his, and he wasn’t comfortable with anyone touching her.
Arkon dropped his hand and backed away. “You mated with a human?” His expression was too conflicted to decipher.
Jax waited for a flash of shame, for the sense that he’d betrayed his people, the guilt of committing an unspeakable wrong. All he felt was contentment. What shame was there in what he and Macy had shared?
“Um…he can smell that?” Macy rubbed her reddened cheeks. “Of course he can,” she muttered.
“This…” Arkon’s eyes darted between Jax and Macy. “This is amazing. Everything…everything worked? It all fit together?”
“Wha…? Oh god.” Macy hid behind Jax.
“Arkon,” Jax growled, baring his teeth.
“Take no offense, please. This is simply fascinating.”
“I’m not offended,” Macy said. “It’s just… People don’t usually talk about that so openly. But, um, yes. We…fit.”
Jax glanced at her over his shoulder, brow low. “If you answer him, it will only encourage him to ask more.”
“My silence didn’t deter you.”
“So you are willing to answer questions that make you uncomfortable?” Jax asked. When she nodded, he moved away, allowing Macy and Arkon full view of one another, and leaned against the wall. “Consider yourself warned.”
Arkon grinned. “Jax, what—”