Proven (Daughters of the Sea #1) (27 page)

With the pressure encasing my mind alleviated, I was able to stop singing and open my eyes to view the beauty around me. Her song still played in my ears, but it was more of a whisper. A reminder. A promise.

In my euphoric trance I had been pulled closer to the crux and my new view was nothing short of spectacular. Its outer walls churned with a rhythmic beauty, while the edge of the island's foundation loomed high above. Much like the Metropolis, it floated on its own, anchored to the ocean floor via the crux. An understanding that the crux had created its own barrier over time in the form of a volcanic island hit me and altered my perspective. The crux was a living being all its own. With its own needs. Its own urge to protect itself. Its own consciousness.

My focus swept down its spinning length where its body narrowed and descended even deeper. There was something pulsing from the depths. A light. I dove deeper to get a better look. Feeling incredibly small and insignificant, I made sure to keep my distance. Farther and farther downward it dropped; the ocean floor sloping in on itself and opening up to accommodate the crux's expanse.

The pulsing white light grew brighter as I neared its source. I was reminded of the stable presence of a stalwart lighthouse facing down the fury of the ocean; its beacon calling out to those souls lost at sea. It was mesmerizing and I felt its call tug at my essence, calling me home.

As the crux narrowed even further, the whirling walls spun faster and faster, giving the illusion of a solid structure. The pulsing light came from its most narrow point, just before it began to flare out once more on either side. I realized with a start that I was looking at a massive hourglass. The second half of its body disappeared into the depths, requiring me to move ever closer, which I was not willing to do.

I marveled at the silent beast before me, its center pulsing like the beating of a heart. Just as I decided I should get back to Sebastian before he came looking for me, I felt a refreshing influx of salty essence brush my skin. I turned toward the new essence and immediately lost the ability to breathe. It was the woman I'd seen earlier, but this time she was clearer, brighter; more absolute. A flurry of alarm crossed my thoughts just before I was captured in her virtuous gaze.

Her white, flowing hair curled and writhed like frothy brine caught in the fury of a wave, while her dark blue body shifted with the movement of the water, never quite solidifying. A heart-shaped face housed large eyes as stormy and mysterious as the ocean itself. Her translucent skin shimmered and glistened with pure essence as her full lips pulled upward slowly, taking me in with admiration and solidarity.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. A severe, high-pitched note sliced my ears and I flinched instinctively. Her mouth snapped shut and collapsed into a frown. She attempted to speak once more, this time in a slightly lower octave, but I was lost to her message. I shook my head gingerly to let her know I still didn't understand.

Her eyes sparkled brighter than a sky overflowing with stars, and I felt as if I were looking into a universe I shouldn't see; as if the secrets held in her eyes were too powerful, too heavy for a heart like mine. But I also couldn't look away. Her arms bent and displayed open palms to me, expectantly. The infinite wisdom of her eyes dropped to my hands and I instantly understood how she intended to communicate with me.

I slowly did as she requested, flattening my palms against hers. To my surprise, she wasn't quite solid. It was as if I were pressing my palms against a waterfall; running over my skin and distorting based upon my movements. I met her watchful gaze once more, unsure what to do next, although I didn't have much time to consider. With a jolt, she lurched forward...instantly blending with my body and possessing my mind.

S
TASIA

Pain. It radiated and sliced the tender rhythm of space and time so essential to the ocean's survival. The serene beauty held intact for millions of years had suddenly been disrupted in a horrifying display of insatiable greed and power. It created a nauseating disorientation. She was scared. She was desperate. She needed me to know the torture that was being placed upon her shoulders. She needed my help.

My surroundings dissolved as I was whisked away to a different time. Flashes of images, feelings of terror, and unmentionable agony inundated my senses. She showed me the crux, placing me directly within its walls. I observed with an immediate understanding as contaminated essence flowed into the crux from every direction, swirling and condensing as it approached the impossibly small center. It collected there, creating a sparkling ring that grew brighter and brighter with each ounce of essence that was added. Just when I thought my eyes would burst into flames from the intensity, the ring of essence was pulled inward, condensed into a ball, and exploded into a flash of light; shooting through the walls of the crux and out into the ocean beyond. I continued to watch the re-energized, glowing essence slip back into the swirling water before being taken for a ride down the length of the crux. My stomach dropped as I was pulled along with it, following the essence's journey to rebirth.

My feet gently connected with solid ground as I looked up at the fireworks display of energy playing out above me. The radiant essence had become electrified, and it popped and sizzled with power. The force of the crux sent it flying in all directions, disappearing into the deep. Just as suddenly as that truth was shared with me, I was flying upwards, an immense pressure building around my body.

Sunlight enhanced the intricacies of the world as I became suspended impossibly high above the crux itself, a swirling whirlpool that pulsed with power. I was floating above the island it surrounded itself with for protection. The Azores were an exotic collection of islands and islets that dotted the Atlantic in one direction, while the flat expanse of water racing towards the horizon filled the other. The sun's rays were sweltering on my back and the vague sense of isolation I felt told me I was glancing back in time, several centuries before I was even a twinkle in my mother's eyes.

I was suddenly overcome by a warm glow of euphoria at simply being alive. My lips pulled into a smile right before everything shifted once again. The sun was still shining at my back, but everything else was different. The air surging into my lungs felt heavier, dirtier. I glanced down at the island and sucked in a breath. A circle of what I immediately knew were ghosts surrounded the crux, standing on the beach of the island's inner ring.

Their arms rose in unison and a whispered chant itched across my skin and weakened my essence. When they began to chant louder and the itching grew painful, I was pulled back down into the depths of the crux; horrible pain slicing every cell. I watched in horror as the crux's circular motion slowed, wrenching my insides and slamming into my skull. A thin line of red began to swirl within the crux's walls and it burned like the sun itself. As it swirled farther and farther down into the chasm, it poisoned the purity of the essence, the rhythm that had been in place for so long. Somehow I was aware that it was the blood of a hundred witches. A spell.

My head snapped back and I wailed in agony, my essence thickening and knotting into something unrecognizable. Before I realized what was happening, the pain dissipated and I was standing on the lip of the island, peering into a nondescript glass room. The night sky above glittered with a thousand stars while the silver light of the moon shone down on its contents. The blood drained from my face at what I found inside. Fallon, obviously in distress, lay on her back while a woman with blonde hair leaned over her with malice. The floor of the room erupted in flames and I jumped back.

The blonde's face turned menacing in the flames and ice ran through my veins. I never thought I'd see those blazing, golden eyes again. A dizzying sensation washed over me once I registered the cool arms of the ocean embracing me as the night sky, glass room, and flames disappeared. I was back in the present. The blue woman nodded once to me, spun around, and promptly vanished. Everything I'd just been privy to witness scratched across what I thought I knew, but one image in particular had me racing back towards the rock formation, back towards Sebastian.

As I crawled up the monolith on the makeshift spiral staircase Sebastian had created, I tried to figure out how long I'd been gone. Although a blanket of clouds hid the moon's light, it still felt early. I finally reached the top and dropped to my knees in exhaustion. Sebastian was still propped up against his pillow of rocks, sleeping, while his chest rose and fell with each breath.  I pulled my wet hair into a ponytail with relief and took a moment to catch my breath. I uncorked my vial once more and took yet another swallow of the elixir in the hopes that it would renew some of the energy I had just expended.

As frustrated and overwhelmed tears pricked at the back of my eyes, I suddenly wished Finn was there. I needed his warm darkness to calm me down. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be okay, even if it was just a lie. I needed to hear his voice. Then I remembered. Could it work over such a long distance?

"Finn?" I tested. My attempt felt forced and I felt the extra energy it took to reach out behind my own mind. My essence was depleting quickly. "Finn?"

Silence. It didn't work. I was too weak, or else he was too far away. I sighed in defeat and then stood and studied the silent, dark island in the distance. The flickering light we saw earlier was long gone. Nothing would be happening tonight, which gave me time to think. A shifting of rocks drew my attention back to Sebastian and my heart dropped to my feet.

"Stasia!" I heard Finn's beautiful, honeyed voice in my thoughts, but it was bittersweet. Something more pressing had just demanded my attention.

"Nadia," was all I could respond, just as she met my startled gaze with a beautiful, wicked smile seething with the sweet hint of hatred.

F
INN

"Wait - what?" I yelled back into my thoughts. I flew out of bed and started to pace across my cabin in worry. "Stasia!" That lone word she communicated back to me reverberated in my head and sparked a thin line of fury that slithered its way into my fists as they clenched at my sides. Nadia. But she was gone - imprisoned in Tartarus - where she belonged.

"Stasia!" No answer. Something was wrong. Why wasn't she answering?

"Finn!" Expecting, hoping, for Stasia's voice in my mind, it took me a moment to realize the voice was coming from outside my cabin door. Now a banging fist accompanied the frantic voice and I twisted on my heel with renewed alarm and foreboding.

"Finn!"

I yanked on a pair of dirty shorts on my way up the stairs and pulled open the door to find Olivia, shaking and panicked. Without a word, she simply held up her palm. My heart squeezed when I saw her trace pulsing a shimmery turquoise. Her face wrenched painfully and I wasted no time hooking my arm with hers, swinging my door closed behind us, and dragging her down the hallway. Stasia was in trouble, and we had no idea where she was.

Anger filled my thoughts and the torture of helplessness fueled my rage. How could she go off by herself like this? How could she put herself in danger with absolutely no support? And how could Sebastian allow her - even help her - do it? Who did he think he was? He'd known her for what? A month?

"Slow down, Death Boy," she muttered.

"I hate that nickname, you know." I eyed her wearily, but slowed down enough for her to keep her feet under her. I should have just picked her up.

"Sixth grade wasn't all sunshine and roses for me either," she reminded me.

"You're right...Psycholivia," I chuckled. I had to admit, my nickname from middle school was a million times better than hers. "Or should I call you Schizolivia?"

"You shave the head of one annoying girl and all of a sudden you're a psychopath," she mumbled with disdain.

"She was the Maven's daughter," I reminded her.

"All the more reason," she grumbled.

"You painted the word 'loser' all over her head with nail polish." I rolled my eyes.