If either of them had possessed any control before, her words broke that control. He plunged into her with fierce, sure strokes. She met each of his thrusts, frenzied, lost to everything but the feeling of his hands at her waist, his mouth on her neck, him deep inside her, stretching her, suffusing her with his heat and desire.

She struggled to keep her eyes open to see the prow cut the waves. Wind stroked her heated face as they raced into the night, and it felt, with Bennett thrusting into her, as though they were flying, carried aloft by their lovemaking. The pitch of the deck as it rode the waves pushed him even deeper within her. They were elemental, creatures of water and wind.

"I love you, London," he groaned. One hand glided from her waist to stroke her where she was most sensitive. "No words to say..."

At once, climax seized her. She flung herself into it, into the pleasure and joy he gave her. She felt herself destroyed and reborn. A heartbeat later and his release followed hers.

They sank back together, panting, boneless, bound together in body and heart. And all around them was the sea, wine-dark and eternal.

Chapter 18.

The Black Temple A wail rose up and hovered over the deck of the steamship-mournful, enraged, helpless. The sound curled like acrid smoke, thick and terrible. Had anyone with compa.s.sion heard the cry, they would have fallen to their knees and wept. But no one aboard the steamship, from the captain to the men shoveling coal into the furnace, possessed an ounce of empathy. Such men had made the misery of others their occupation. To them, the sound of lamentation was ordinary and tedious, hardly worth a moment's reflection.

There were others, though, who found the cry to be stimulating.

Joseph Edgeworth and Thomas Fraser watched, one man disinterested, the other t.i.tillated as John Chernock crouched over the Nereid. The black blade in his hand gleamed with the nymph's blood. Long cuts ran down the lengths of her arms and legs, and her hair lay in clumps around the deck, bits of coral and pearl still woven into it. The Nereid, pinned under the weight of the restraining spell, could only sob and writhe, calling to her sisters ma.s.sing around the hull of the steamship, but even they could do nothing but listen to the suffering of their sister. Chernock's spell sheltered the steamship, protecting it from the Nereids' retribution.

"Have you told me everything?" Chernock asked the imprisoned sea nymph. He sounded detached, like a dentist inquiring about his patient's holiday plans.

"Yes," the Nereid whimpered. "You know where the Black Temple is now. Release me."

"You had better not be lying to me," Chernock warned, still quite impersonal. He ran the blade down her neck, between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, with the promise of more pain.

From the aft of the ship came a howl, the sound of the rakshasa rakshasa demon scenting blood and pain. It longed to feed. But the enchanted chains that bound the demon held it fast. Only a word from Chernock could free it. demon scenting blood and pain. It longed to feed. But the enchanted chains that bound the demon held it fast. Only a word from Chernock could free it.

"Our kind is incapable of falsehood," the Nereid answered, flinching.

"Perhaps I can test that."

"Enough, Chernock," snapped Edgeworth. "We have all we need from the trollop. The captain's plotted our course. We haven't time for your little games."

The sorcerer's icy calm frayed with annoyance as he glanced over his shoulder. "But I want to see how much suffering an immortal body can withstand."

"Perform your experiments later." Edgeworth pulled a pocket.w.a.tch from his waistcoat pocket and frowned at the hour. "The delay with the ship's wheel already cost us time."

"Let me keep her, then."

"And have those d.a.m.ned sea b.i.t.c.hes trailing after us?" Edgeworth tipped his head to the side, indicating the Nereids helplessly gathered around the steamship. "No. Throw her back."

"Must he, sir?" asked Fraser, disappointed.

Edgeworth shot him a disapproving glare. "Just do it. I'm going below to send a letter through the Transportive Fire. When I come back, that thing better be gone." He strode away.

With an irritated sigh, Chernock rose to his feet. What a missed opportunity! Edgeworth hadn't a proper sense of proportion. All he cared about were missions. Especially now that the truth about his traitorous daughter had at last come to light, bursting his illusions like a blister. Edgeworth was mortified by the failure of his daughter, and pushed harder now to seize the Greek Fire Source as if to atone or prove himself. He chased it with a determination that bordered on obsession. But there was so much more to being an Heir-such as chances to study and broaden knowledge that few other men would ever experience.

When the Blookseeker Spell had been broken, the Heirs were adrift, without direction. It had been Chernock's idea to summon the Nereids-those salt.w.a.ter trollops knew this sea better than any being-and it was a wonderful stroke of luck that he could ascertain more, not only as to where the Blades were heading, but also about the nymphs' pain tolerances. Or lack of tolerance, as it turned out. Yet so much more could be learned!

Perhaps Fraser could be an ally. Chernock dismissed that idea quickly. Even though Fraser would welcome any occasion to cause something pain, the fool was even more concerned with currying favor and toadying, particularly now that the possibility of Fraser marrying Edgeworth's wh.o.r.e daughter was no longer an option.

Still, the younger man looked visibly sorry when Chernock released the restraining spell with a wave of his hand. The Nereid rolled over and crawled to the railing, trails of blood smearing on the metal deck. With the heel of his shoe, Chernock shoved the Nereid into the water. Immediately, the other nymphs gathered around their wounded sister.

One of the sea maidens, her brow topped by a sh.e.l.l-encrusted diadem, looked up at Chernock. "We curse you, sorcerer!" she hissed. "The daughter of daughters shall cleave you before the eyes of the sea."

Chernock did not bother answering. Nereids were nothing, merely some sea G.o.d's over-numerous offspring. They held no real power.

He turned away with a dismissive shrug, then grabbed the arm of a pa.s.sing crewman. "Clean that up," he said, pointing to the Nereid's spilled blood. "But don't touch it. The ichor makes it poisonous to mortals."

The crewman nodded, then went to fetch a mop and bucket.

"Tough luck, Chernock," said Fraser, his tone somewhere between regretful and pleased. There wasn't a drop of camaraderie between him and Chernock, especially where internal politics were concerned. Fraser was only sorry that his viewing entertainment had been cut short.

"No matter," the sorcerer sighed. "We'll catch the Blades tomorrow. I'm sure, once we have Day, the witch, and the s.l.u.t, even Edgeworth will not object to a little magical experimentation."

Fraser grinned openly at the thought. "I hope not."

Athena, lying snug in Kallas's arms, shot upright with a gasp.

"What is it, magesa magesa?" the captain asked sleepily. He stroked her bare leg.

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Athena choked. "I shall tear him apart!"

Fully awake now, Kallas sat up and took her hands in his. "Who?"

Athena shook with rage and horror. "Chernock. The Heirs' sorcerer. He has tortured a Nereid. I can feel the sorrow of the nymphs calling out for vengeance."

Now the rage was echoed in Kallas. "I'm responsible. I was the one who summoned the Nereids." responsible. I was the one who summoned the Nereids."

"No, not you. The burden isn't yours but his his. I will make him pay," Athena vowed.

"Not if I don't kill him first."

For some time, the witch and the captain sat in joined silence, both silently swearing revenge, both determined to protect the other from having blood on their hands. When at last their hearts stopped pounding, and sleep tugged at them, they lay down together, fitted as snug as two halves of a sh.e.l.l. But the peace they shared earlier had been shattered.

London never knew the Aegean could possess so many mysteries. Before setting off on her voyage to Greece, she had extensively studied maps, read accounts, in Greek and other languages. The sea itself was not so large. It surrounded where civilizations had been born, where learning and thought had reached their apotheosis. Sailors such as Kallas had navigated the deep azure waters for millennia. Everything there was to be known about the Aegean had been set down in writing and song. The human mind encompa.s.sed all.

She should have realized by now that the human mind, the constructs of man, barely brushed at the edges of worlds and ideas epic and limitless in scope. Even something as traversed as a merchant-crossed sea could hold secrets.

On no map and in no written account had London seen reference to what the Nereids and Colossus called the Black Temple. And yet, there it was, an island just off the portside bow. It grew larger as the caique approached, larger and undeniable.

"Have you ever seen such a place?" she asked Bennett, standing beside her at the rail.

"Never," he answered. "And I've seen a lot."

It took a sail once around the circ.u.mference of the island to determine its shape and size. It formed a parenthesis in the water, with a shallow bay, and a high craggy peak on its westernmost point. Huge, ancient plane trees and bits of scrub dotted the curved hills. The geography itself was not especially remarkable, but what the island contained just inland, beyond its eastern bay, made London's breath catch in wonderment.

The ruins of an amphitheater, carved from darkest stone. Seats had been hewn from the hillside, rising up above and around a semicircular area that had, at one point, contained dancers and a chorus. The remains of the stage sat directly behind the orchestra, so that the audience, when watching a performance, would have the beach and sea as backdrop.

In Athens, London had seen the ruins of the Theater of Dionysus and been suitably impressed by its age and consequence-even if most of the theater was lost to time. It had been the theater of the capital, the birthplace of drama, a white marble edifice that glowed in the noontime sun, yet one would have to draw heavily upon the powers of imagination to fully envision the scene.

Somehow, on this tiny island in an obscure pocket of the Aegean, a theater of black stone stood in almost pristine condition, barely touched by the destructive influence of time. Almost as strange, no other buildings or signs of previous life marked the island, as though only the theater needed sustaining and everything else, even shelter, was unnecessary.

This strange place was known to few, or the long dead. Now she and her friends and the man she loved were added to that company. Would the knowledge of the Black Temple die with them, as well? And, if so, how soon?

She would not think of death now, or the Heirs at their back. See this now See this now, she told herself. Live this moment. Live this moment.

They quickly anch.o.r.ed the boat off the beach. London, Bennett, and Athena waded to sh.o.r.e for reconnaissance.

Standing in the orchestra of the theater, London felt the powerful hum of something otherworldly resonating through her. What the origin of that intense sensation might be, she could not tell. As she scoured the amphitheater for writings she might need to translate, Bennett bounded up and down the tiers of seats with an alluring, muscular virility, searching for any other clues that might direct them.

"Why would this be called the Black Temple?" London asked Athena.

The witch turned from her examination of the stones lining the orchestra. "The first theaters were temples to the G.o.d Dionysus," she explained. "His worshippers performed songs and dances in his honor, and those evolved into dramatic performances. Yet I do not know why a theater such as this one, obviously not dedicated to Dionysus, exists all alone out here in the middle of nowhere."

Athena's words were precise, but her gaze was far and pensive. London initially ascribed her friend's uncharacteristic behavior to the exceptionally energetic night spent with the captain. But that morning, upon rising, Athena told London and Bennett about the lament of the Nereids that had pierced her sleep. The revelation had sickened everyone on the caique.

However, Athena had grown even more abstracted since the island of the Black Temple was sighted. And, now that they were on land, actually standing in the midst of the theater, London had never seen the witch so preoccupied.

"Are you all right?" London asked.

The witch's eyes were dark, darker than night, and glittering. "I can feel it. The magic of this place. The power. It would claim me, if I let it."

Of course Athena would feel magic more strongly than London. She had steadily been using her magical abilities with much more frequency than she ever had before. Now her senses were alive with it, turning her into a perfect conduit for a Source. Surely the Eye of the Colossus, the Source sought by everyone, had to be here.

Bennett joined them in the orchestra. "The Nereids said the Eye could be found in the temple beneath the temple. But I can't find anything that might lead us below. Not a doorway or crevice."

"Perhaps there's another way below," London said. "I saw a sea cave in the cliffs to the west of the beach."

A slow smile spread across Bennett's face as he followed the path her mind took. She saw in his face the same respect and consideration he gave to Athena, to anyone, man or woman. Though, she admitted, his expression when looking at London had a much more carnal undertone. It seemed, in truth, that one fed the other. And she had once despaired that any man could find her use of her mind to be at all enticing.

Oh, G.o.d, or G.o.ds, or G.o.ddesses, please let them make it through this mission. If anything happened to Bennett, she would find herself utterly destroyed.

"It's mostly submerged," London noted. "One couldn't wade or sail through it."

"Which would make sense," Athena said, "if one was trying to find a secure place for something powerful."

Bennett took London's hand, his eyes vivid and bright in the sun. "Looks like we're going to get wet again."

The cave peered up, a dark crescent, above the water. They had raised the caique's anchor and sailed as close to the entrance of the cave as possible. No way to know how far back the cave went or its height. From what Bennett could tell, there was just enough room for someone swimming through to bob up for air, but not much else. He wished he could scout the cave first before London went down there. The idea of sending her someplace unknown and uncertain maddened him. But time was short, and the Colossus had been clear in its instructions that both Bennett and London had to go to the Black Temple to find the Eye.

So it was with no small measure of trepidation that he and London readied the water-tight packs. The dry bags were of heavily waxed cotton, double-lined, and he packed his with a revolver, cartridges, the Compa.s.s, two of Catullus's illuminating cylinders, and a set of clothes, including his boots. A c.u.mbersome load, but he was a strong swimmer. London packed her bag with trousers, a shirtwaist and her boots, a much smaller burden, but they hadn't tested her swimming ability in such arduous territory. Streams and ponds were not as challenging as the cave would likely be. She might not have the strength needed for the upcoming task.

He'd carry her on his back if he had to. Doubts about protecting her never entered his mind.

Athena came forward, her palms cupped. "These might be needed for your journey."

He and London peered into the bowl of her hands. Two fish scales gleamed there.

"You may find," the witch said, "in your swim through the cave, that air is scarce. I have placed an enchantment on these scales. One is for your journey out. The other for your return. To activate the spell, just cast a scale into the water."

Bennett picked up one of the scales. It seemed a perfectly ordinary fish scale, but he'd not question Athena's spell casting. Ever since the mission had begun, weeks ago, the witch's use of her powers increased dramatically, and with that usage, came growth in strength-even if she held back from the larger spells. As he examined the scale, Athena wrapped the other in a small parchment envelope and tucked it into his pack.

When he moved to cast the scale into the water, Athena cried, "Wait! The spell's life is brief. Do not put it in the sea until you are completely ready to swim, and swim speedily."

One way to a.s.sure that they would swim as fast as possible was to reduce drag, which meant swimming naked. Bennett, never shy, shucked his clothes quickly, but London, blushing, performed her task with a bit more slowness. Kallas politely averted his gaze. Bennett was tempted to watch and linger on the sight of her bare skin in the sunlight, but there would be time for that later. He hoped.

Only when London had slipped on the straps of her pack and slid into the water did Kallas turn back. Bennett also lowered himself into the water after donning his pack. At least the sea was warm and gentle, lapping in calm waves. They both tread water as Athena, standing at the rail, asked, "Are you set?"

"Almost," Bennett said. "Just be ready and be careful, both of you," he added, looking from Athena to Kallas and back again. "The Heirs are coming."

"That has not escaped me," Athena said gravely.

"Looking forward to pounding them against the rocks like octopi," Kallas said.

Good enough for Bennett. He glanced at London, treading water beside him. Her face, now impossibly beautiful to him, was set with determination and also-this is what he truly adored-illuminated with excitement at the prospect of an adventure. "Ready?" he asked her.

She smiled in response. He swam closer to her, then kissed her.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she answered.

He grinned, then turned back to Athena. "Now."

Athena dropped the scale into the water. Almost at once, it grew, glowing, until it took the form of a fish. Bennett was an amateur angler, but he'd never seen a fish like this one before. It was the size of his hand, but emitted a bright golden radiance like a tiny, swimming sun.

"Through the cavern," Athena commanded the fish. It immediately darted toward the entrance of the cave. "Go! Hurry!" she shouted at Bennett and London. "You must stay with the fish or else you will not be able to breathe in the water."

Bennett and London swam in pursuit, he at the lead. They quickly breached the mouth of the cave. Inside, it was much darker and close, the roof of the cave sometimes only just missing Bennett's head when he rose up for breath. Damp, sea-carved rock loomed all around them. Light receded completely, so that the only illumination came from the incandescent fish. Then even the small headroom disappeared as the cave dipped lower, the pa.s.sage entirely filled with water.

They paused just before the airway vanished, just able to tilt their heads to the side to draw breath.