Emma carefully refrained from asking, do you know where you're going? The feral wouldn't have appreciated it. But Emma couldn't see how, even with her heightened senses, Shalimar could possibly be leading them to Brennan.
They started at the last place that Brennan had been heard from, the beach on the eastern rim of the island. The place was getting the worst of the hurricane; the storm was moving from east to west, pounding rain against the sand and pelting them with pebbles tossed into the air from the blasting. Any trace of footprints on the rocky beach were long gone, but that didn't seem to stop Shalimar. She got down on her hands and knees, sniffing the soggy beachfront. She cast around, right to left, her eyes feral-yellow and slitted, searching for clues.
She chose north. "This way."
"I thought you came from that way. How could they have taken Brennan past you without you seeing them?"
"Good question. One I intend to ask when I find Brennan."
Emma didn't question her further, choosing instead to concentrate on keeping up through the underbrush. It was hard going, finding a spot to put her feet that wouldn't sink under the weight of all the water rising all over the island. But the advantage to Shalimar's route was that the trees broke the winds trying to push them off balance, and the broad palm leaves sheltered them from the rain as best they could. Twice Shalimar got doused by an overloaded palm leaf, but she shook it off grimly. She had more important things on her mind.
* * *
"Perhaps we ought to enter the dwelling now," Feather said tentatively. "It's wet and cold out here. And there is only one of his guardians remaining."
"It will be over soon," Sharp-Coral reassured her. His eyes searched her anxiously. "Perhaps we should send you back to your nest. I worry about you. Shouldn't you be in a nest?"
"Soon," Talon broke in. "She can still fly, but not in this storm. I would be careful myself in this angry air. It is best to wait here, as we've planned."
"Tidal-Wave approaches with the rest of my people," Sharp-Fin agreed, tossing her green hair and snuggling into the warmth of Talon's arms. "He will be here after the storm finishes. We have plenty of time; Tidal-Wave does not like the wet weather on land. As soon he attacks, we can slide in the back. Adam Kane's guardian will be too busy with Tidal-Wave to see us take him away with us."
"But why have the other guardians gone out in the storm?" Feather fretted. "It makes no sense. They may be land-dwellers, but they are not fools. Why would all three of them go for a walk in the rain?"
"Let us take advantage of their stupidity," Sharp-Coral said. "It will make our task easier."
"We should follow them," Quick-Fin said. "They may appear foolish, but I do not trust them. They are clever. What if they are going out in the storm to lure us in? Other land-dwellers have tried to trap us, Sharp-Coral. What if this is a trap? Let us follow them and find out. The guardian inside and the scientist are not going anywhere. And Tidal-Wave will not attack for several hours, until the bottom of the sea settles."
Talon considered her words, and found them disturbing. "I agree with Quick-Fin. There is no harm in following the female guardians, and we may discover where the tall man is hiding and why he has done so. Let us see what they are up to."
* * *
Adam coughed savagely, trying to clear his lungs. The dust in the boiler room swirled up into the air, twinkling in the light of the hand-held torch. More dust lay on top of the over-sized water heater, waiting to waft off and cause more havoc. Jesse had the panel to the generator open, peering inside, trying to determine which wires were loose now that he'd replaced what needed replacing. He was keeping a lid on his temper; the generator ought to have been working by now. Jesse had done what needed to be done, now it was the generator's turn to cooperate. He tightened another wire, hoping to see a hopeful spark. Adam coughed again.
Jesse spared him a glance. "I'm all right here. You want to go lie down?"
"No, I don't want to go lie down. Stop treating me like an invalid."
"You are an invalid," Jesse pointed out. "I can finish up here by myself. Take a nap."
"Take a nap," Adam mimicked in annoyance. "Jesse, I've been taking care of you since you were a teen-ager. I think I know what to do, and being treated like a toddler is not it."
"Adam, like it or not, you ran yourself into the ground through overwork. You're here for rest and recuperation. Live with it."
"Some rest," Adam grumbled. "Marooned on a desert island with a downed Helix, and Brennan missing. I'd get more relaxation in Sanctuary. With power and air conditioning, I might add."
Jesse ignored his plaint. "Hand me the Phillips."
"You've already got it. It's by your foot."
"Thanks." Jesse retrieved the screwdriver from just beyond his knee, pausing to rub his sprained ankle. "The generator should be up and running in a few moments. Just another wire here—"
"What was that?"
Jesse looked up. "What was what?"
"I thought I heard something."
"Your green-haired girl?" But Jesse got to his feet, balancing awkwardly on one foot, indicating how seriously he took the older man's words despite the flip words.
"Maybe." Adam too got to his feet, hacking as he did so. "Let's go check it out."
* * *
Shalimar looked around. The rain had gotten suddenly heavier, though it felt like the last gasp before the end of the downpour. Both women were drenched, hair plastered flat against their cheeks and raingear no longer effective at shedding even a small percentage of water. "They're gone."
Emma tried to see what Shalimar was talking about. "Who's gone?"
"I don't know. But we were being watched, not too close. Now they've gone."
Emma too looked around, casting through the area with her mind. "I can't 'feel' anyone."
"You didn't 'feel' anyone when Adam saw his mermaid and his angel, either, girl. Maybe they're on a different mental wavelength."
"That's a very uncomfortable idea, Shalimar. I hope you're wrong."
"Why? What's so bad about not being able to read someone's emotions, Emma? You're always saying how you'd like to be able to relax and not worry about other minds seeping into yours."
Emma hunched her shoulders. "This is different."
"How so?"
Emma thought for a moment, deciding how best to explain. "Shal, when you use your powers, you can sense everyone around you. You know where they are, everything physical about them. It's your choice, when you go feral."
"Right. Your point?"
"What if there were people who could hide from your feral senses? That would make you really nervous, right? I mean, right now it's your choice whether or not to acknowledge them. You know that they're there, you can interact whenever you please. But if you can't sense them, that's a power they have over you."
"Ah." Shalimar understood. "It's a matter of choice, isn't it, Emma? You don't really want to 'listen' to them, but you want the option of doing it or not."
Emma nodded. "And right now, I don't seem to have that. You're telling me that they're here, all around us, but to my mind they're invisible. And that frightens me." She tried to peer through the droplets. The rain was doing its best to lighten up, and she hoped that the worst of the hurricane was over. "What's that big black thing up ahead?"
"That? That's the old Spanish fortress that Jesse was talking about. It was deserted a few centuries ago." Shalimar peered more closely, her attention caught by something that Emma couldn't fathom. "At least, that's what it looked like when I went through here a few hours ago."
"And now—?" Emma prompted.
"And now, I'm not certain." Shalimar's eyes narrowed, and went golden. Emma could see the cat-like movements take over, the careful placement of one foot after the other, not disturbing so much as a blade of grass. In between movements Shalimar froze so much that even Emma, tuned in to her team mate, could barely see her against the soggy foliage.
"Someone's here," Shalimar announced quietly. "There has been a large group of someones, at least a dozen, and most of them have left."
"Most? Are there sentries?" Emma tried to find someone, anyone, in the brush.
It was entirely too long before Shalimar answered. "No. Not nearby. But there is someone in the fortress itself." She motioned to Emma. "Let's check it out."
The fortress was hot and steamy with the remnants of the hurricane. Wisps of fog crept up from the ground, wreathing the stones in white mist that disappeared eerily into the unnatural darkness of the cloud-covered afternoon. To Shalimar's eyes it looked as clear as broad daylight. Emma wished she could tap into the feral's mind and see as plainly as she did.
The majority of the fortress was a cacophony of fallen square boulders, tumbled there by ancient cannons, now by weather and time. Moss crept over the north side of most of them. It had been a square edifice, and the corner towers still stood as fallen bulwarks to the past. Toward the far corner the tower there had remained in remarkably good condition, despite its age. It looked sturdy enough to house someone for a short time and protect them from the weather. It rose some fifty feet in the air, and Emma idly wondered how the Spaniards had managed to engineer it so well that it was still standing after four centuries. But that was the spot that Shalimar was heading for. That was where she had detected something out of the ordinary.
Shalimar stiffened. She sniffed the air, and looked around, suspicion lighting her features. Then—
"Brennan?"
"Shalimar? Is that you?"
"Brennan, where are you?" Emma called out. Shalimar knew better: she leaped the fifty feet straight up from a standing position to land on top of the tall tower. The feral peered down into the depths, her eyes automatically adjusting to the lower light levels.
"Brennan, you looked soaked."
"Thanks." A bathtub's worth of water had seeped in, and was lapping at Brennan's knees, but no where near enough to lift him up close enough to the top. "Now how about getting me out of here?"
Shalimar pulled a rope out of her pack and surveyed it ruefully. "That may be a problem, Brennan. I've got forty feet of rope. You're another ten feet below surface level. By my count, that leaves us some twenty feet short. And unless you've developed some feral traits that I'm unaware of, jumping that distance is not something you're going to be able to do."
Brennan had to agree. "How about Jesse? Can he phase a hole through the wall at ground level?"
"It's a thick wall, but I think he could do it. One problem, though: he's not here. He's back at the bungalow, fixing the generator." Shalimar didn't share the molecular's close call with death and a slightly crunched Helix. That could wait for later.
"How about calling him out here? This water's cold."
"That may take a while—" Shalimar started to say, then froze. "Emma, get down!" she yelled.
Emma dove to the ground in time to avoid being scooped up by a large winged man. He screamed in frustration, sounding much like a peregrine falcon deprived of its prey, and soared up into the clouds. He disappeared, no doubt preparing for a second stoop.
Shalimar leapt into the air, tumbling into an automatic roll. She grabbed a second blue-haired being that tried to streak by her, seizing the winged woman by the arm and pulling her down from the sky through sheer combined weight.
The girl cried out, but Shalimar hung on determinedly, landing on the ground on her feet and wrapping the girl's arm behind her in a lock. It wasn't easy, Shalimar discovered, to apply a half-Nelson with a pair of over-sized wings in the way. Feathers beat at her frantically. Shalimar squeezed tighter.
"I can keep this up longer than you can," she snarled into the girl's ear. The winged girl went limp in submission.
"Let her go!" demanded a masculine voice, the command barely masking his concern. The other blue-haired aerialist alighted, wings remaining open and ready for battle. "Let her go! She's done you no harm."
Emma moved into position, ready to defend. "Get our friend out of that dungeon."
"What friend? Release my sister, or suffer the consequences!" He moved forward.
Emma didn't give way. "Why did you capture him? We weren't any threat to you."
"Out of my way!" Blue-boy aimed a blow at Emma's head. She blocked automatically and followed up with a swift kick. He whoofed, and fell back. The expression on his face was more shock and surprise than pain.
"Emma, watch out! There's another one!" Shalimar called.
There was no time for subtlety. Emma summoned her powers, and aimed a psionic discharge at the green-haired man running full out at them, murder in his eyes. Emma had just enough time to register the webbing between his clenched fingers before blasting him off his feet and barreling him into the stone wall.
"Enough!" Shalimar barked. "One more move, and I'll break her neck!"
That halted both men, as well as the green-haired beauty that was approaching fast in her brother's wake. Only Emma knew that the feral was bluffing. Shalimar didn't have it in her to kill in cold blood. But their opponents didn't know that.
"Let her go," the merman said. But his voice showed his uncertainty. Shalimar and Emma were outnumbered, but not outgunned.
"Get my friend out of there," Shalimar countered, indicating the stone dungeon with her chin.
"We didn't put him there."
"Really? I don't see anyone else around here," Shalimar challenged.
"Please don't hurt her," the merman begged, losing ground fast.
Shalimar pressed her advantage. "Oh, I don't intend to hurt her. I intend to kill her," she threatened, lying through her teeth, "unless you do exactly as you're told. So, you. You with the wings. Hop up to the top of that tower and get him out of there." She pressed the girl's arm a bit higher, pushing a frightened squeal out of her.
"Talon, do it!" The merman was almost frantic with fear.
"I'll do it," Talon snarled, his voice cracking. "Don't hurt my sister." He jumped into the air, wings beating great puffs of air to lift the large bird-like being. He landed on the top of the tower, and, with a backward glare at Shalimar, disappeared into the depths.
"Now, you." Shalimar turned her attention to the green-haired sea people that still faced her. "What's this all about? Why did you attack us?"
They looked at each other, then back at the feral, sullen-faced. Shalimar pressed a little squeak out of her captive. The man broke at once.
"Don't hurt her! Feather had nothing to do with this!"
"Interesting name, Feather." Emma kept her distance, in order to better counter-attack if the two water people should try anything. Despite her powers being of no use, Emma was not helpless. She didn't need her powers to see that the pair in front of her were barely more than kids themselves, despite their bravado. They also looked panic-stricken. They looked like a group who had suddenly found that they had taken on more then they could handle.
Emma chose to respond accordingly, giving Shalimar the signal to follow. "My name is Emma. This is Shalimar. We don't want to hurt you, but we will defend ourselves. Why did you capture our friend and put him in the dungeon?"
"We didn't," the girl said sullenly. "I'm Quick-Fin, and this is my brother Sharp-Coral. We didn't do anything to your friend."
"Well, someone did," Shalimar retorted, playing bad cop to Emma's good cop.
"It must have been my people," Feather said from Shalimar's grasp. "They didn't know you were here. They must have found him alone, and put him where he couldn't hurt them."
"Then why are you here?"
"We followed you," Quick-Fin explained. "We wanted to know what you were doing here."
"Some vacation," Shalimar muttered. "Jesse sure knows how to pick 'em."
There was a loud exclamation of surprise from inside the dungeon; Shalimar and Emma exchanged satisfied glances. Brennan was on his way out. Moments later the elemental was on soggy land, his clothes wringing wet, Talon landing beside him.
"Now release my sister," Talon demanded. "Do as you promised."
* * *
Not good. Both Adam and Jesse heard the creaking of floor boards as more than one somebody crossed the patio, all trying to remain silent. Jesse tried to estimate how many: at least four, probably more. It sounded like a crowd, all breathing quietly but slapping wet feet against the floor. Jesse winced, hoping that the water wouldn't ruin the finish on the wood flooring. He already had enough to explain to Mr. Prescott. He raised his eyebrows at Adam: shall we confront them?
Adam shook his head: no. Too many of them. He raised his comm. ring and spoke as quietly as he could. "Shalimar? Emma? Can you hear me?"
"Right here, Adam." Shalimar's voice sounded calm and in control. "We've got Brennan. He's a bit soggy, but all right."
"Good. Get back here. Jesse and I have got visitors, and I don't think it's the Welcome Wagon."
"On the way." Shalimar's voice acquired a sense of urgency. Given the circumstances, Adam was not displeased.
He turned back to Jesse. "How about a back door?"
"By all means." Jesse limped to the outside wall of the generator room, placed his hand against an open spot, and exhaled. The wall quivered, and turned insubstantial. Adam slipped through, making sure that Jesse too exited onto the beach and allowed the wall to regain its solidity. He pointed to the tree line; cover and escape. Jesse nodded, and made his way there, favoring his bad ankle. Adam stifled a cough. No use in telling their opponents where they were.
They didn't have much of a respite. From inside rose a shout of rage; the intruders had discovered that their prey had escaped. Almost a dozen green-haired men boiled out of the bungalow, waving spears and yelling. They spotted the pair immediately, just before they plunged into the trees.
"Run!" Adam yelled. He grabbed Jesse by the arm, intending to haul him along.
"Keep going!" Jesse shouted back. A spear was flung; Jesse stopped to mass solid. The spear bounced against his chest, not reaching Adam as it had apparently been meant to do. "I'll hold them off!"
"There are too many of them!" Adam wasn't about to leave the molecular.
"Adam, I can't keep these spears away from me, and you too! Run!"
Jesse was right. He wouldn't be able to escape, not with his bad ankle. Adam had to get away, to warn the others, and to mount a rescue. Jesse would be all right; he could phase either way, and the spears wouldn't hurt him. Not unless there were too many at once, and Jesse couldn't stay phased long enough.
Adam ran. The trees slowed his pursuers down, but they slowed his own progress as well. Fronds whipped by, slapping at his cheeks. Low growing vines threatened to trip him. He worked at saving enough breath for his comm. ring. "Shalimar! Emma! I'm in trouble here."
"Ten minutes, Adam." The feral would be outpacing the others, Adam knew, which meant even more back up in fifteen. He hoped it would be enough time.
He burst into a clearing. Good, that would buy him a few seconds. But an arrow zoomed in front of him, missing his arm by inches.
Adam jerked to a halt. An arrow? The sea people carried spears. But there, on the other side of the clearing, floated at least a dozen blue-haired men, all using large white wings to keep themselves several feet up in the air. And each one held a tall and vicious looking bow. As he watched, they took aim.
That was enough. Adam turned around and dashed off into the trees, back the way he had come.
And ran straight into the green-haired mermen. They grabbed him, twisting his arms painfully behind him, immobilizing him thoroughly.
The largest merman stuck his face into Adam's field of vision. "I am Tidal-Wave," he announced, "and you will do as I say or I will kill you."
Adam subsided in the merman's grasp. Escape was not yet possible, but help was on the way. All he had to do was stay alive until then, though Shalimar's ten minutes now seemed like an eternity. "Where's Jesse?" he asked.
The merman ignored him. "Bring him," he commanded.
"Tidal-Wave!" called out one man. "The air people! They're here!"
Tidal-Wave looked around in alarm. "Move quickly!" he ordered. "Take the scientist back to the bungalow. Quickly!"
The air people attacked, flinging arrows at them. The mermen retreated into the trees, spoiling their aim, escaping. One merman went down with an arrow through his leg; another stayed behind to drag him out of danger. One aerialist took a spear through his wing and retreated with three others keeping the wounded man safely airborne.
Tidal-Wave himself took charge of Adam, frog-marching him along the trail back toward the bungalow. The aerialists fell behind, though Adam could still hear their wings beating above the tops of the trees, looking for an opportunity to send a well-aimed arrow through the leaves.
They burst onto the beach. "Jesse!" Adam shouted.
The molecular was down, but not out. No fewer than six mermen surrounded him, each now sporting a bruise or black eye, testament to his determination not to be taken. Each time a spear would be poked at him, Jesse would mass solid. The spears had taken on a suspiciously blunt looking edge, and two had even cracked in half and been tossed to the side.
"Surrender!" Tidal-Wave commanded the molecular. "Or the scientist dies!"
Jesse swayed, steadied himself against the wall of the bungalow. "Adam?"
"It's all right, Jesse," Adam said, hoping Jesse would understand what he was trying to say. Some of Emma's telempathic powers would have been welcome right now. Non-verbal signals would have to do, anything to communicate that he had gotten through to the others, that they were on their way to rescue Adam and Jesse. "They've got us. Stop fighting."
Jesse slumped, exhausted, shoulders drooping. He held up his hands. "Okay, guys. No more. Uncle."
His attackers moved in cautiously, wary despite his surrender. Adam suppressed a smile; Jesse had taught them a lesson about taking on a supposedly outnumbered opponent. Two took him gingerly by the arms, clearly hoping that he wouldn't ghost away leaving them holding thin air.
Jesse didn't. There would be time for that later.
"To the ocean," Tidal-Wave said. "Bring them both."
Not good. Adam wasn't in the mood to be drowned. "Hey, wait a minute. We can't breathe underwater like you can."
"Quiet, land-dweller." Tidal-Wave back-handed him. Adam's head rocked back. He saw stars. Blood rushed through his head, filling his ears with sound.
No, it wasn't blood. It was the rushing of wings. The air people had circled around and were coming up the beach. Arrows peppered the sand in front of him.
"Back!" Tidal-Wave was no fool. "The dwelling! Take cover!" He hustled Adam along, jerking him almost off of his feet.
More arrows whistled past. One sliced a deep gash in Tidal-Wave's arm, though the merman ignored it, shouting more commands at his watery troops. Another winged man dropped to the sand with a spear through his heart, red blood bubbling out past his lips.
"Jesse!" Adam yelled, trying to break free. The molecular was farther away from cover, still held securely in the grasp of two mermen. As Adam watched, more arrows were launched. One dropped one of Jesse's captors to the sand, screaming, with an arrow through his thigh.
Another took Jesse below the ribs.
Adam felt the world stop. Jesse slowly crumbled into the other captor's grasp, sinking to the sand. One hand went to the arrow as if trying to pull it out. This can't be happening! Phase, Jesse! Let the arrow pass through you! It was already too late. Jesse turned a stricken face to his mentor, not able to believe what had happened.
* * *
"Adam's in trouble." Shalimar turned to the others. "There's an assault team at the house."
"My people," Quick-Fin identified. "Tidal-Wave intended to capture the scientist soon after the storm. I did not expect him to move quite so quickly. I believed that he would wait until morning, when the sea had calmed."
"I don't care if it's aliens from outer space," Shalimar snarled. "Tell him to stop."
"He won't listen to us," Sharp-Coral said. "He believes that the scientist will be able to cure us."
"What do you mean?"
"I found a magazine," Quick-Fin explained. "It had washed overboard. It showed the scientist at work. It said that he could cure many people." She looked obstinate. "If he can cure so many people, why not mine?"
"Look, we so do not have time for this," Brennan cut in. "Yes, Adam's a great scientist, but your folks are trying to kill him."
"Tidal-Wave won't kill him," Sharp-Coral averred. "He too believes that your scientist can save us."
"I'm going on ahead," Shalimar announced. "You guys follow as soon as you can. I'm not waiting, and I'm not going to dawdle." She bounded off, hurtling into the trees toward the western edge of the island where the bungalow was located.
Brennan turned to the four. "Talk."
* * *
"He's dying!" Adam raged, struggling to get away from Tidal-Wave. "Let me see to him."
The sea people had retreated inside the bungalow, pulling their wounded along with them, tracking blood and mud across the veranda and into the main living space. Tidal-Wave roughly thrust Adam into an over-stuffed chair. Mermen carried in the wounded and laid them on other chairs or on the rug-covered floor when the chairs were filled up. One pulled the damask curtain off of a window to use to staunch the blood flow from the merman who'd taken an arrow to the thigh.
"We too are dying, land-dweller," Tidal-Wave said gruffly. Blood oozed from the scrape on his arm, but he ignored it. "Cure us, and I will let you minister to your friend."
"That may be too late!"
"Then you had best get started." Tidal-Wave remained implacable.
"Tidal-Wave," called one of the merman, scanning the beach outside. "The air people are still there. They seek to keep us from the water."
Tidal-Wave went himself to see, looking through several of the windows, observing those all around the bungalow. What he saw did not please him: there were at least a dozen of the winged people positioned all around the bungalow from the beachfront to the back where the hot tub was located. He returned in time to watch two of his men carry Jesse in and deposit the molecular mutant on the sofa. Jesse groaned as they set him down, another gush of bright red blood surging out around the arrow protruding from just above his belt.
"Please let me see to him," Adam begged. The two mermen holding him by the arms wouldn't release him, forcing Adam to remain seated.
"As soon as you cure us," Tidal-Wave insisted. "I would start now, if I were you. Your friend may not have long to live."
"But I can't work that fast!" Adam raged, breaking down into a frustrated cough. "You're asking the impossible! Research like this takes years."
"You haven't got years," Tidal-Wave said. "Neither does he. Begin."
"All right." Adam was beaten—for now. "You say you're dying. What's killing you? Give me details, fast." Brennan, Shalimar, Emma—now would be a good time for a rescue! Emma, can you read me?
But Tidal-Wave remained frustratingly slow, drawing it out. Adam couldn't take his eyes off of Jesse. The molecular's hands had crept to his wound to try to apply enough pressure to stop the pain. Adam tried to concentrate on Tidal-Wave.
"How long do you expect to live?" asked Tidal-Wave, almost conversationally.
"I don't know. Seventy-five or so. Maybe a hundred, if I'm lucky."
"I am twenty-seven years old, and I am the oldest one of us all," Tidal-Wave told him. "None of us have ever lived past thirty."
No time for shock, for horror. Just hang on until help arrives. "What happens?"
"We age too swiftly," Tidal-Wave said. "Look at my hands." He held them out. The muscles were plain, demonstrating a life of hard work, but the skin was as wrinkled as an old man's. Adam could see that the subcutaneous fat layer was melting away. In someone without webbed hands and feet, Adam would have said that the hands belonged to an eighty-year-old.
And they quivered with an old man's palsy. When he chose, Tidal-Wave could force them to draw an arrow on his bow, and could shoot as keenly as any of the younger members of his clan. But now, with the need for physical action abated, Tidal-Wave slowed down. He sat on the chair directly across from Jesse, watching the young molecular struggle to remain aware of his surroundings.
"Find the answer, Dr. Adam Kane. Find a solution that will allow me and mine to live out our lives as people should, not be cut down without ever knowing our grandchildren."