When she surfaced, the bright flash of sun, the taste of air, the feel of it on her skin disoriented her. She pulled herself up, then stood, mask in her hand, staring at the water. Knowing what lived in it.
“You’re a natural.” Riley gave her a light punch on the shoulder before sitting to take off her flippers. “Up for another?”
“Yes.”
“I think we stick with one or two more, easy ones, today. You didn’t get any sense when we were down there?”
“Sense? Oh. No. No, but I wasn’t thinking about the stars, not once we got going. I should have—”
“I think the pull might come more naturally if you’re relaxed.” Bran handed her a bottle of water. “If all of us are. You enjoyed it.”
“You were right. Thirty minutes went by so fast, and wasn’t nearly enough.”
“You kept trim.” Sawyer grabbed a can of Coke from the cooler and, at Riley’s nod, tossed it to her, got another for himself. “Not everybody who knows how to swim translates it for diving—not right away. This one?” He pulled another Coke out, handed it to Annika. “She’s a freaking fish.”
“It’s fun to swim with friends.”
“The chances of finding what we’re after in the other two caves you’ve got down here are zilch.” Doyle broke out a water for himself.
“That’s how we cross them off the list, and give Sasha some practice.”
“I wish you wouldn’t hold back on my account. I’ll do okay.”
“Yeah, most likely. But what you have to consider is that’s not your environment down there, and you’re only alive down there because you have equipment that makes it possible. If we run into trouble while we’re under, the way we did in the cave up here? Getting out of it’s going to take some experience.”
She turned to Doyle then, shoved a hand over her water-slick hair. “Am I wrong?”
“No.” He drank deep from the bottle. “No, you’re not wrong. And it’s not like we don’t have time,” he said to Sasha.
“But you’re ready to get it done.”
“I’m long past ready.” He shook his head, drank again before he turned toward the wheelhouse. “But there’s time.”
* * *
They dived twice more, and Sasha felt more comfortable each time. But she had to admit, to herself at least, the idea of coming up against a dark god while twenty or thirty feet underwater caused considerable anxiety.
Pain, she remembered. Her dreams had been painted with pain and blood and battle. But she could recall none about drowning.
Maybe that was a good sign.
They headed back in to have the tanks refilled, and by popular vote grabbed lunch in the village. They ate on the sidewalk, keeping the conversation about the dives, rather than their underlying purpose.
The combination of the food, the sun, the voices, the bustle all around shifted Sasha’s exhilaration into a comfortable, cat-lazy fatigue.
Too used to Riley’s driving to worry about it, she half dozed on the short drive back to the villa, imagining curling up on her bed in her quiet room and napping.
“Got some things I want to check into.” Riley got out as the dog trotted over. “Told you we’d be back.” She gave him a good rub. “Same deal tomorrow, so I guess we should work out a strategy, try at least one of the more challenging dives.”
“Can I take the jeep? I want to pick up a few things,” Sawyer explained.
“We were just in the village.”
“Didn’t want to hold everybody up.”
With a shrug, Riley tossed him the keys.
“Can I go with you? Can I shop?”