Watchtowers : Water Page 10

  Schools of fish flashed by, unaware of the deadly sorcerer disrupting the sea. Many humans were like the fish, ignorant, oblivious of what the future held.

  The sorcerer’s defeat wasn’t assured. Keely could stop Amidurah, if she had a mind to learn how to control the waves and control was the necessary ingredient she lacked.

  “Hello, Zion.”

  He ceased swimming. “Evadne. What are you doing here?”

  The water nymph smiled. Large breasts, tiny waist, full hips, Evadne provoked the jealousy of many nymphs. Such a shame. Evadne, despite her flirtatious ways and numerous lovers, proved his most faithful friend.

  “Your father is still in a rage over your defiance.”

  Zion sighed. His father wouldn’t be satisfied until the last penalty of his sentence was paid in full. Poseidon’s penalty to exact on his son had yet to be announced. “Do you know what his intent is?”

  “You mean past skewer you to a reef and make you shark bait?”

  Her teasing voice made it difficult to take the situation with the gravity it deserved. A mistake he couldn’t afford. “Seriously?”

  “He was mighty pissed. Tossed all his spare tridents around, had his way with some of your half-sisters.”

  Zion groaned. His father had an outrageous sexual appetite. “I have new siblings on the way?”

  The nymph kissed him on the cheek. “A few.” She laughed. “He’s pretty potent for a guy his age.”

  “Too potent.”

  She ran a finger across his cheek, and down his chest.

  Damn! Her touch sent chills through his body. Another time, years ago, and he’d have succumbed to her temptations. Chills were nothing to the heat Keely created.

  He captured her wayward hand in his, tipped his head in warning, and gave her a wan smile. “I’m in love, Evadne. I’m not someone you can scratch your itch with.”

  She sighed. “Keely?”

  Zion nodded. “You always were perceptive.”

  “My curse in life.” A frown creased her face. “So, you two haven’t …”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Look big, guy. Your sexual well-being is my business. Does she give good head?”

  This time a deep laugh erupted from Zion. “You’re outrageous! Why haven’t one of my brothers claimed you?”

  Evadne winked. “What makes you think one hasn’t?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past you to sleep with dear ol’ dad.”

  “He’s hung, that’s for sure, but I’m not interested. Can’t do the gray.”

  “Doesn’t seem to stop him.”

  “That’s what really bugs you isn’t it? All his cavorting?” She pushed away from Zion and flipped some water at him.

  The teasing motion usually made Zion smile. Not today. He still didn’t know how angry Poseidon was. He avoided her astute question regarding his father’s philandering ways. “You haven’t given me a straight answer.”

  “Here’s the scoop, Sweetie. If you fawn over him, tell him you got Keely to cooperate he’ll act as if nothing has happened. All that screwing around put him in a better frame of mind.”

  Zion frowned. They had Keely’s cooperation, but not her strength. “If I don’t?”

  “You’ll make the sufferings of Odysseus look mild.”

  *****

  Zion swam into the throne room of his father. The floor was tiled in alternating pale peach and green. Ornate sculptures of nymphs, human women, and Goddesses placed at strategic intervals reminded him of a chessboard. Those same effigies also held deadly weapons, some hidden, and some removable from the hands of the statues.

  At the far end, Poseidon lounged on his gold throne. Three beautiful, young women flanked him, listening intently to his chatter. The mermaids, similar in appearance had long, dark hair that drifted to their waists and young, nubile bodies. No doubt his father had fucked them, the way they hung on his every word. All of them made Zion sick to his stomach.

  He approached the elaborate throne, keeping a respectful distance from the dais. No need in getting things off on the wrong foot immediately. He bowed his head. “Father.”

  Poseidon’s voice boomed through the room. “Face me. What do you want? Do you bear good tidings?”

  Straightening, Zion did as his father commanded. “As you know, Amidurah attacked the eastern edge of the North Atlantic.”

  The God leaned forward and fixed his gaze on Zion. “As you know, I don’t care about the tsunamis or his attacks on the humans. However, I don’t want Atlantis damaged or discovered. Have you made progress in this regard?”

  Anger simmered within Zion. His father was as callus now as three thousand years ago. Zion forced emotion from his face and kept his voice detached. “I’ve secured the help of Keely Shane.”

  “The human female you’re enamored with?”

  The sound of tinkling bells crossed from the throne to Zion’s ears. The sultry sex nymphs giggled. He looked up to see them vying for position between his father’s legs. If the three had any sense they’d leave his pig of a father before they were crushed by his unfaithfulness. He shook his head at their stupidity. “Yes.”

  “So you did seduce her as I suggested.”

  There was nothing he could say to answer the question without sounding as if he’d followed his father’s command exactly. He kept his mouth shut.

  Poseidon laughed. “It’s about time you did something I told you, boy.”

  The rebuttal stung. Plenty of times in the past, he’d followed his father’s wishes and orders. Zion was charged with the safety of Atlantis, a job he took seriously. The rage he tried to control threatened to burst forth and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to restrain his anger.

  “If you have nothing else of note to relay, you are dismissed.”

  Zion nodded. The women led his father to the divan. One straddled his face and the second placed her mouth around the old man’s cock. He wasn’t about to see what the third woman had in mind.

  He bowed and left the room as quickly as his dignity would allow.

  *****

  Keely woke with a king-sized headache and a piercing pain in her side. She looked around, trying to focus and get her bearings. Large oak trees, waving grasses, the sound of lapping water.

  The memory of her confrontation with Stephen Doubilet crashed back into her with the force of the waterspout she’d attacked him with. She pushed to her hands and knees, gasping. Each breath sent another wave of agony rushing through her. She needed to get to the bike, alert the authorities to Doubilet’s death and get help for herself.

  She clawed at the grass, using it to gain a purchase and pull herself forward. Dirt lodged beneath her fingernails. She paused to catch her breath. The wooziness slowly dissipated.

  Her gaze fell upon a tree root. Keely seized the gnarled core with her hand and followed the rough anchor to bring her to the trunk. The bark scratched her fingers and broke four nails, but she continued on until she stood upright and leaned heavily against the trunk. The urge to slide down the rough bark was overwhelming, but she fought it. She’d expended too much energy getting into an upright position.

  She rested against the tree several minutes. Her cheek throbbed. Gingerly, Keely touched the injury, the blood a sticky stream. At least bleeding to death wouldn’t be a problem. She inhaled deeply and moved forward. Her bike wasn’t far.

  Each advance renewed her confidence and strength. The ache in her head, cheek and ribs increased. Her breathing turned shallow. She located the emergency notice button on the bike and engaged it.

  Birds sang in the branches. Cool, late afternoon air chilled her skin. She battled her frail body to stay upright and alert. She didn’t know how long she’d have to wait. The Sentries were known for their quick response, using the engaged locator beacon to pinpoint precise locations, but she didn’t know just how close they were. She concentrated on remaining calm and awake.

  A good while later, a male voice rumbled through the tr
ees. “There she is.”

  Thank Domnu. Help finally arrived.

  *****

  A Sentry applied the temporary sealing gel to the gash on her face. The three Sentries arrived in two vehicles, one drove a jet bike, the other a hydrogen fueled emergency wagon. “Put the male in the rear compartment. The female can sit in the back seat.”

  A Sentry nodded and did as commanded. A different guardian held the door for Keely and she slid into the upholstered bench fighting a wave of vertigo.

  The ride to the triage group was blissfully short. Several units had been set up since the tsunami to handle the influx of injuries to man and beast. The gray blue polyresin walls transported easily, set up quickly, and were speedily taken down and moved to the next emergency triage location when the need arose.

  Sitting on a gurney, the top half of her body nude, a medbot applied electrical shocks to Keely’s black and blue ribs. The controlled pulses knit together the cracks she’d sustained when she struggled with Doubilet.

  “Return to the nearest medical facility in seventy-two hours.” The bot expelled a small data disc. “Your discharge directions.”

  This was one appointment she doubted she’d make. Within seventy-two hours she’d be facing Amidurah head on.

  *****

  She returned to the Castle, salvaged what she could of her research data, clothing, and family heirlooms. Keely altered the delivery of her research equipment to a storage facility in Shannon and arranged for the items she’d scanned into a recorder to be taken there as well.

  Keely took a final glance around her home. Although the Castle had done its best to repair the damage it received, the job had proven ineffective. Her fingers took in the smooth polish of her mother’s Queen Anne chair, ran over the cool gold frames of her ancestors. The castle would come down eventually. The tsunami compromised too much of the structure. It was only a matter of time before she received official notice scheduling the demolition of her home. Every night she slept here was like playing Russian roulette.

  A sense of sadness and defeat overcame her. No, she hadn’t been particularly happy in the house, but she’d not been especially unhappy either. Still, the image of her parents, sitting in the drawing room the day Stephen Doubilet appeared in their lives was a vivid memory. A tear slid down her cheek, burning the tender skin of her recent injury.

  Doubilet was dead. If she were to believe his words, that he really was the right hand man of Amidurah and the sorcerer wanted her, she was dead.

  She shoved a few personal items into a cross-shoulder hung hip bag. The durable material, a dark green, held the most important article of all, her Sig Immobilizer.

  It still puzzled her how Doubilet found her. She had to assume Amidurah knew of her because of the monies he’d spent in funding her research. But, Doubilet said Amidurah felt her power. Did Amidurah really know about both of her talents, or had Doubilet been trying to trick her somehow?

  If her power really called the sorcerer she’d be foolish to practice the control needed to manipulate the water. She didn’t need any more of his misguided minions attacking her. A half-formed plan came to mind.

  What if she practiced on the run? Surely, moving from one locality to another would make Amidurah’s job of locating her difficult. Changing settings created other issues. She couldn’t use her own identity; her ident card would act as a beacon.

  No doubt other men and women like Stephen Doubilet waited to move ahead in Amidurah’s ranks. They’d know to trace her. In Shannon and Dublin, there were criminal elements willing to create false identity docs. Both were too far away. Besides, she needed a ready supply of money.

  Money to burn with a common name. Keely smiled and headed toward the castle ruins. With the huge body count, it would be weeks before her family’s financial accounts were seized and sent to probate and her mother’s assets frozen. And, there were hundreds of thousands of women named Mary Murphy.

  Chapter Twelve

  She should contact Zion. But how? He’d disappeared into the blue waters of the Atlantic a few days back and she hadn’t heard a word from him. Not in her dreams or from Lotis the dolphin who’d kept Zion informed of her activities through the past few years.

  Keely zigzagged through the rolling hills of the green countryside on the lookout for small lakes, creeks, or inlets where she could practice. She stalked through the grasses until she reached the edge of the water. She’d call the water back and forth for an hour, honing the craft of water manipulation, and then hop on the jet bike and head for the nearest city boasting a large populous.

  Getting lost in the throngs was effortless. There were plenty of people in the villages and cities. Too many for towns not equipped to house and feed the tsunami’s homeless. The narrow streets were perfect for a twisted route through town and an opportunity to escape to a new destination without detection.

  There was no rhyme or reason to the pattern Keely followed. One day she’d head south to the mouth of a river, the grassy banks low and marshy. Cold water would soak her shoes, a visceral reminder of why she stood in the quagmire.

  Sometimes the water was nothing but a trickle, the river having seen better times. Her heart ached when she thought of the green grasses of Ireland reduced to a drying waste. Such thoughts inevitably led to memories of her parents and her home. Silent tears fell, renewing her vow to bring Amidurah down.

  It hurt even more when she neared a western coastal town and saw more remembrances. Once pristine beaches had been littered with debris lifted from the ocean shelf and tossed onto the sand. Dead fish and other sea animals decayed on every shore and outcropping near the Atlantic. The stench wafted for miles when the wind blew right.

  Not far from Galway, Keely tried to bring a gentle wave close to the rocky shores, an attempt to wash the outcroppings like an easy spring rain. In the distance, she saw a pod of Rossi’s leap. She sighed, missing her aquatic companions and their frolics in the sea. If they’d been closer, maybe they would have been able to help her contact Zion.

  Keely turned away from the playful sight. She couldn’t go back to her research until she was done with the schooling of her powers. Each time she used them, more concentrated energy flowed from her being at a less restrained, more controlled pace. She didn’t tire nearly as easily as the first feeble attempt she’d made.

  Confidence in her abilities rose. Keely could defeat Amidurah at his own game. With an easy flick of her wrist, she lashed the water at the final outcropping and watched as the dead returned to their rightful burial ground.

  The time arrived to put her own parents’ spirits at rest for their untimely demise and exact payment for the other lives lost throughout the north Atlantic. It was time to find Amidurah.

  She got on the jet bike. The powerful machine rumbled between her legs and reminded her of the first attempt she’d made to control water with Zion. She should have made love to him when she had the chance.

  The narrow, back roads to Waterford disappeared beneath the wheels of her bike as if the machine ate the black ribbon bringing her nearer her destination. Here, a few sheep dotted the deep green hills. Oak forests, their palette of colors announcing fall, provided a clear, nearly pure backdrop. It was hard to imagine the ugliness of Amidurah reaching this far inland.

  She stopped at a hydrogen recharge station and made sure she had enough storage energy to propel the jet bike around the countryside for a couple of days. Keely patted down the breast pocket of the skin-tight green jumper she wore, feeling for the miniature memory disk containing all she’d discovered about Amidurah. Snug in her hip bag the Sig rested.

  Keely still didn’t have enough information. She reseated herself on the bike, gunned the engine and with a roar continued toward Waterford. The town was big enough to hide in while she practiced and researched. Close enough to Dublin so if she found useful information on Amidurah, she’d be able to transport to a receiving location near him.

  Flipping a Euro from her bag to a street kid
to keep an eye on her bike, Keely parked the vehicle and engaged the electronic lock. The cyber pub had a bright red door set in a plaster front meant to make the building look as if it survived the Eighteenth Century. She hated the lurid attempt on sight.

  Loud music pounded a beat from within, the thrum vibrating the windows and booming onto the narrow sidewalk. She resented Amidurah all the more for the forced changes he’d wrought on her life. Keely swallowed hard, prepared to have the raucous sounds chip away another layer of her quiet, studious life.

  The smell of ale mixed with human bodies rushed from the heavy door she opened. The dim light, the mumbled voices all trying to be heard above the din assaulted her ears. She squelched the attempt to cover them with her hands.

  A large man at the dark, pseudo oak bar took a swig from a mug. “They found another thousand dead when they dredged the Dublin harbor.”

  “The feds said there’d be another couple months before the main roads would be properly repaired,” his companion responded.

  Keely attempted to move through the crowd and slid the shoulder strap of her bag so the bulk was in front of her mid-section. There was some give in the press of bodies, but not much. Heat radiated from every direction. Sweat formed on her brow, dampened her underarms. For Domnu’s sake, she didn’t want to be here. But, she had to be.

  At the far end of the crowded room, she spotted the cyber link. “Excuse me.”

  No one moved. She raised her voice. “Excuse me.”

  A few shuffled to the left and right of her and she gained a few meters before the crush of people blocked her way again.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw a man with four mugs grasped in each of his hands. He didn’t say a word, just shoved his way through the crowd. Ale splashed from the containers.