SeaChange (25 page)

“I know a guy,” Jake said cautiously. “I’ve sold him a few
things in the past.” In the last seven decades, he’d picked up a few treasures
off the ocean floor, even though he couldn’t dive in dolphin form. He wasn’t sure
Wally Flowers would be able to unload quite that much all at once, but he
worked for salvage crews, so big hauls, though rare, weren’t unheard of. Jake
would just have to watch his back for the next year as every serious salvage
operator in the Pacific tried to follow him and find the imaginary wreck.

“We will need guns, ammunition and so on,” Myrrine added. “Do
you think we will have enough for those as well as a boat?”

Jake nodded. “Easily.” And if they didn’t, he did.

“Your mom and Leta can share the bed,” Heidi suggested. “Then
you and I can sleep out here. The guys can string the hammock up on deck and
take turns.”

“I can crash in the recliner,” Jake agreed reluctantly. The
thought of not being able to sleep with Heidi was depressing as hell. “And I
think I have a second hammock stowed somewhere, or at least a sleeping bag.”

She gave him a smile that let him know she felt it too, then
snapped a quick salute. “So set a course for San Diego, Captain. Let’s get this
show on the road.”

Jake shook his head. “All right, number two. Just
remember—it’s your turn to cook. You’re the one who has to stretch food for two
to feed seven.”

The sight of her rueful grin and the sound of her laugh kept
him smiling while he went topside to weigh anchor and start the engines.

* * * * *

Dinner was a buffet on deck. Myrrine and Marcos had brought
a big basket of leftovers from the ceremony, so there was more than enough to
go around. Jake put on some CDs, which kept the merfolk fascinated.

Jake wasn’t sure if he should be worried when he saw that
his mother and Heidi had their heads together in the corner.

“And then Che challenged Niko to a duel—but since the
pistols had been underwater for a hundred years, of course they didn’t fire.”

“That is so cute. And he was how old?” Heidi looked up at
Jake, her eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter.

“Nearly twelve,” Jake interjected. “And Niko was almost
twenty, so
he
should have known better.”

“Ah, but perhaps I knew the pistols didn’t work,” Niko said
with a laugh. “Perhaps I even took the firing pins out, just to be sure of it.”

“Oh hell, you probably did.” Jake shook his head. “And not
to change the subject, or anything, but did you happen to get that diary entry
translated today?”

“Actually, I did.” Leta lounged on one of the benches with a
glass of wine. “My Spanish was always superior to Niko’s, even when I was a
girl. Basically, it was the journal of one of the last inhabitants of the
island. In the 1890s, a smallpox epidemic wiped out most of the population.
After it was over, the half-dozen survivors left, moving in with relatives on
the mainland. The journal belonged to an old man, Carlos Montoya, who had been
a blacksmith on the island. It was found in the home of his granddaughter after
his death a few years later.”

“Does he say anything about the island itself?” Niko asked.

“A little. Apparently it was founded by a group of Spanish
pagans in the early 1600s. When the Inquisition heard rumors of a cult of
Dionysus among the colonists, they fled to one of the volcanic islands, named
it for the dolphins that played in the cove, and dedicated it to Dionysus.”

“Does he talk about the temple or the town?” Heidi asked.

“Not much. Most of it is about the friends and family who
were lost to the epidemic. One thing that is clear is there is fresh water on
the island, which is rare. He also says that the god protected them by making
it so the island was ‘lost’. After the cult moved there, it disappears from
maps and public accounts. It was as if nearly everyone who had been there
immediately forgot it when they left. He said his own memories were fading
after mere weeks on the mainland. The author of the book the entry was printed
in assumed it was either dementia, or a story the old man had woven for his great-grandchildren.
It’s retold as a local legend, nothing more.”

“That would explain why we can’t find the island on any
contemporary maps. It doesn’t even show up on the internet,” Heidi said. “On
the satellite photos, there always seems to be a cloud directly over the
coordinates Dionysus sent Jake.”

“I think the forgetting was part of the god’s way of
protecting his followers,” Jake said. “So we can probably get him to lift that.
But if the pirates leave and return, they must have some way to offset that
particular magic.”

“Is that something within your uncle’s capabilities?” Heidi
asked.

Jake shrugged. He had no idea how powerful Phaeton had
become since absorbing Jake’s powers.

“Perhaps,” Myrrine acknowledged. “Some sort of limited
protection spell might be enough. Do we know how many pirates there are?”

“No.”

All heads swiveled to Wen who had appeared out of nowhere
beside the pilothouse. Just a moment later, Steve popped in alongside him.

Wen bowed to the queen, then stepped forward to seat himself
next to Jake on a bench, while Steve sat cross-legged on the floor.

“I have talked with my friends in the Mexican government,”
Wen said. “No one seems to know how many pirates, or how many boats are
operating in that area.”

“U.S. government has nothing useful either,” Steve added.

“We know that survivors report at least two small fast
boats,” Heidi noted. “With six to eight men apiece, all armed with submachine
guns and wearing light body armor. Also we know that at least once, two attacks
happened simultaneously. That gives us a minimum of four boats and twenty-four
pirates.”

“And a couple of the yachts have been sunk, using plastic
explosives,” Jake added. “In those cases, the survivors were left in the
lifeboats with their hands tied up. In others, the boats are stripped,
disabled, and left floating, with the people locked in an interior room.”

“So the pirates aren’t taking the yachts to resell,” Wen
said. “But they are taking anything of value that’s portable.”

“In some cases, artwork and jewelry worth hundreds of
thousands, or even millions,” Jake agreed.

“Hard to get all of that on a cigarette boat filled with
armed thugs,” Heidi said. “So how do they get their loot back to the island?”

“Perhaps once the owners and crew are locked up, the pirates
bring in a bigger vessel,” Marcos theorized.

“They must,” Jake agreed.

“The attacks have all happened at night,” Wen added. “The
survivors have only seen the pirate vessels in the lights from their own
yachts. It is entirely possible they have a larger boat waiting somewhere just
out of view.”

“I’ll keep trying to find a pattern for the attacks,” Heidi
said. “There’s got to be a connection, whether it’s cargo, destination or
timing. They can’t just be random.”

“When we get closer, we can do reconnaissance in dolphin
form,” Chiron added.

There was a general murmur of agreement, but no one seemed
to have anything more to add.

Jake looked around the crowded deck. The CD had stopped.
Someone had lit a handful of candles in glass jars. Someone else had refilled all
the wineglasses, and handed ones to Wen and Steve. The small space was packed
with Jake’s friends—and his family. He wrapped his arm around Heidi’s shoulder
and squeezed. “We’re all tired and we’re talking in circles. Tomorrow’s another
day. Let’s relax a bit, and start working again in the morning, when we’ve had
a chance to think and regroup.”

“Perhaps Leta could sing something for us,” Marcos
suggested. He turned to Jake. “Your sister has the most beautiful voice I’ve
ever heard.”

“That would be great,” Jake said. He hadn’t heard Leta sing
in almost eighty years. “Would you mind?”

Leta shook her head, but not before Jake noticed she’d been
making cow eyes at Wen. Oh hell, he was going to have to do something about
that crush, wasn’t he? She was still his baby sister.

“I love to sing,” Leta admitted. “Che, do you have a guitar
on board?”

Jake shook his head. Their father had played, and Jake had
tried to learn as a way of remembering the man, but Leta had gotten all of the
musical talent in the family.

“Just a moment.” Steve vanished, then reappeared holding an
acoustic guitar, which he handed to Leta.

“Thank you.”

She strummed the instrument, tuning it carefully, then
launched into a song that took Jake back to his childhood. It was an old
Spanish ballad their father had sung, and Jake found himself humming along
under his breath. Heidi snuggled into his side and he felt the surge of her
love and compassion flow across their empathic link. What had he ever done to
earn this perfect moment of companionship and happiness?

When Leta finished the plaintive ballad, Jake saw Heidi
surreptitiously wipe away a tear. Even though he knew she hadn’t fully
understood the lyrics, she’d somehow comprehended the message of the song. Leta
accepted the smattering of applause that followed, then she launched into a
love song—the soprano’s aria from a famous opera, and this time, instead of
singing to the group as a whole, she stared straight at Wen, who began to
squirm in his seat, looking more apprehensive than Jake had ever seen him.

Niko gulped down the rest of his wine, then stood, stomping
down to the swim deck. He dove into the water, then tossed his shorts back onto
the boat and changed, swimming off with a flash of his powerful flukes.

Marcos cast one glance at Myrrine, then shrugged. “I think I’ll
join him. Chiron can take the second watch.” He too, climbed down to the swim
deck, then disappeared into the waves.

“Maybe it’s time for something a bit more upbeat,” Steve
suggested when Leta finished. He reached for his guitar, which Leta handed him
immediately. His fingers flew nimbly across the strings, spilling out the notes
to
Cheeseburger in Paradise
.

Heidi laughed and joined in, her voice untrained but clear.
Soon Jake and Leta did as well, Jake not even trying for perfection, just
laughing along with the others. By the time the song was done, even Wen and
Myrrine were tapping their toes. Steve immediately launched into the opening
chords of “Surfin’ USA,” and they kept on singing, for the next hour or so
until they were all laughing and hoarse.

“Well, folks, on that note, I think it’s time to hit the
sack,” Heidi said with a yawn. “Wen, Steve, are you staying or going?”

“Going,” said Steve. “Call me when you get to town tomorrow
night.”

“Staying,” said Wen, at the same time. “It’s a long flight
back to the mainland.”

Flight? Jake had always assumed Wen teleported, like Steve.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me. You and Chiron can fight over the
hammock and the sleeping bag for the first watch, then rotate with Marcos and
Niko later.”

Wen nodded. “Excellent.”

Heidi herded Leta and Myrrine toward the stairs. “See you
tomorrow night, Steve. Thanks for coming out.” She stopped beside the wizard to
kiss him on the cheek. Then she leaned down to plant one on Wen as well. “See
you in the morning, Wen.”

Jake tried not to laugh at the befuddled expression on Wen’s
normally stoic face when Leta did the same.

Once they’d gotten everyone else taken care of, Jake kissed
Heidi good night and watched as she curled up on the couch, while he settled in
on the recliner. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but every few minutes
his eyes drifted open as he looked over toward the couch, as if just needing to
reassure himself that she was there. After just a week or so of sleeping with
Heidi, it didn’t feel right to sleep alone.

“Jake?” After perhaps half an hour of silence, Heidi’s soft
voice reached across the small room.

He hoped he hadn’t kept her awake with his restlessness. “Yes?”

“Meet you on the floor. I can’t sleep here by myself.”

“Thank the gods.” Eagerly, he joined her on the rug in the
center of the room. It took only a moment for them to curl up next to one another
and pull the blanket over them both.

“Love you,” she murmured with her cheek on his chest. “G’night.”

“Love you too, Freya.” He kissed the top of her head,
inhaling the warm, citrusy scent of her hair, then finally contented, he slept.

* * * * *

After an uneventful night and a long day of planning and
computer work, the
Siren
pulled into Mission Bay late the following
evening. Steve met them at the marina.

“We’re pretty sure we’ve rounded up the last of Velasquez’s
contacts,” he told Jake and Heidi. “You shouldn’t have any problems going back
to your apartment.”

“Other than a total lack of furniture,” Heidi said. “I’m
thinking it’s more comfortable on the boat.”

“I was thinking about a hotel,” Jake suggested. He glanced
pointedly at Niko and Leta. “With separate rooms.”

Wen had stayed with them until dark, then said he’d see them
soon and vanished. Myrrine and her bodyguards had returned to their settlement
near Catalina to make further arrangements. The idea was that Jake and Heidi
would buy a larger boat, then Myrrine and her entourage would rejoin them and
they would all travel south in that. Since the pirates almost inevitably preyed
on large luxury yachts, they hoped to find one that had enough room but was
inconspicuous enough to keep them from drawing too much attention.

They planned to be in San Diego for two or three days to buy
a boat and equipment, as well as making sure some of the merfolk knew how to
operate it. No way did they want to hire a human crew. Ideally, they’d be
heading for Mexico within the week.

“A real hotel?” Heidi mused, her blue eyes laughing up at
him. “With things like a hot tub and waiters and private bathrooms? I could be
convinced.” One of the big disadvantages of the
Siren
was that there was
only the one head. Things had been pretty cozy for the last couple days.