Page 30 of Cathmoir’s Sons (Bad Boys of Bevington #5)

Chapter 30

The Anticline

KELLAN

A fter Evan finally takes the hint and heads back to Thistlemist, I draw Rhodes onto one of the comfortable couches in the lounge and curl around him.

“Tell us what happened,” I urge him.

He tucks his head down. Luca cuddles into his other side and we press our heads together, wrapping Rhodes in the circle of our caring.

“He-he left a note. It was ... deliberate.”

I rock him gently. “I’m so sorry, Rho.”

“He could have talked to me,” Rhodes says, his voice hitching. “When I saw him at practice, he seemed okay.”

I don’t give him platitudes. It’s not his fault. There’s nothing he could have done. People who commit suicide sometimes seem “better” before they carry through. None of that’s comforting in the face of his pain and guilt.

“Did he say why?” Luca whispers. “What was he struggling with?”

Rhodes nods, his forehead sliding against mine. “It’s strange. What he said reminded me of something but I can’t quite place it. He said he couldn’t take it anymore, that his brain had turned against him. Everywhere he looked, all he saw were nightmares. He couldn’t get any rest. I feel like I should know what he was saying but I can’t quite connect it.”

I rub his back. “Had he said anything similar before?”

“When we messaged back and forth over the break, he said he was having trouble sleeping but it got better after exams. I figured it was just the usual stress of exams. I should have paid more attention?—”

“Rho, did he ever say he was considering suicide?” Luca asks.

“No, I’d have gotten him to the healers straight away.”

“Then don’t blame yourself. You were a good friend and a good captain?—”

“Not good enough,” Rhodes says, covering his face with his hand.

I push his hand down and kiss his cheek tenderly. “You reached out to him over and over. You were there for him. He didn’t tell you what he was going to do because he didn’t want you to stop him. It wasn’t a cry for help that you missed, Rho.”

“But I could have stopped him,” Rhodes whispers.

“No, you can’t take that on yourself,” I say, stroking his face and kissing him. “You also can’t take that choice away from him. Mourn him, love. Tell us stories about him so we all remember him as fondly as you do. But don’t disrespect his choices.”

“But—” Rhodes hangs his head. “I understand what you’re saying.”

“Avenge him, Rho,” Luca adds. “Find what drove him to take his life. Whether it was something magickal or mental illness, there are things we can do to remember him and honor his life. But don’t ever believe that his death was your fault or that you could have prevented it.”

“Like what you’re doing for Doctor Prince?” Rhodes asks, his voice flat and quiet.

“Yes, an endowment for the swimming program or something. You’ve always said the program needs its own personal trainer.”

“We can do that,” Law says. He’s sitting in a facing chair as we console Rhodes. I hadn’t even noticed him sitting there, although I was aware he hadn’t left the house. The subtle awareness of my consorts’ whereabouts is always part of my thoughts now.

Rhodes shifts to press his forehead against mine again. “I love you. Both of you. All of you. Okay, Law not so much, but I appreciate what you’re saying. What you’re doing. I know Yan was depressed but I don’t think this was mental illness. What he said in his letter about not being able to find rest, about everything turning to nightmares. That’s familiar somehow. It’s teasing the back of my mind.”

It's more than teasing the back of mine. But telling him won’t absolve his guilt or help him process Yan’s death. It’s something for another time. I glance at Luca and find him watching me. He nods.

He knows, too.

We console Rhodes for another hour before coaxing him down onto the couch to rest and covering him with a blanket. Luca and I got a few more hours of sleep after Rhodes and Law left for Bevington but they must be running on fumes. Law’s slumped down in his armchair, looking as bleary and red-eyed as Rhodes.

I crouch near his chair and cup his cheek. “Have a nap, my love.”

He curls his hand over mine. “Wake me in an hour. I want a shower before we head to Torre Faro. That will wake me up.”

“I will. Thank you for watching over Rhodes.”

He stretches before crunching down into the chair. “It was bad. Carver barely has control of the scene, much less the staff. The news will be all over Bevington by now.”

“Maybe we encourage Evan a little more strongly to mentor Carver. That would, at least, keep him out of our hair.”

Law nods sleepily.

“Rest.” I run my free hand through his hair until his heavy eyelids close. “Sleep, my love.”

Once his grasp on my hand loosens, I cover him with a blanket, too.

Luca beckons to me from the kitchen. I join him in making sandwiches from crusty bread, ham, and local, aged provolone.

“Nightmares everywhere he looked,” Luca begins as he passes me rinsed and dried lettuce leaves.

“The death of sleep,” I respond. “He’s not thinking clearly right now but when he’s rested a little, he’ll remember. He’ll make the connection to the Magi of the Mists. Luca.” I take a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Could I have brought a dream demon to Bevington?”

Luca shakes his head firmly. “You worked on Isla Cedros for years. You were never affected. The dream demons died a thousand years ago with the Magi of the Mists. Besides, the museum’s warded out of its ass now with the cup of Sulis Minerva there, beyond even Bevington’s wards. There’s no way a malevolent spirit could escape.”

“But Rhodes was affected the first time he walked through the exhibit. Before it even opened. And Yan was a Water mage, like Rho. What if Water mages are particularly susceptible?”

“The archeological record doesn’t support that. The Magi of the Mists were Elemental mages. They’d have documented it if Water mages were more affected by the dream demons than other Elements. The infection ran through family lines. Rho and Yan aren’t related.”

I nod as his logic calms my growing panic. “I think I have to tell Carver.”

Luca grunts. “No, he’s a tool. Tell Lords.”

“I don’t like how Evan’s involved himself with Rhodes,” I say, focusing on my hands as I cut yellow tomatoes for the sandwiches.

“Why not? What do you have against Lords?”

“Nothing,” I say before I backtrack to the truth. “He’s a crusader. In the literal sense. A paladin. I agree with the direction he’s taking the Capricorn Guild. But I’m afraid his crusades will hurt those close to him. I don’t want Rhodes caught up in Evan’s crusades.”

Luca scratches under his chin with the handle of a butter knife. “I hear what you’re saying. But I think we probably pose more danger to Lords than he poses to us. He may say that he won’t go against the Oak King, but you know that if you call on Teddy and Rachel, they’ll stand with you against anything. Lords won’t let either of them fight alone. At the very least, he’ll fight with us, but I suspect he’ll bring in the whole Guild to protect Teddy and his fiancée.”

I nod. I made those calculations already and came to the same conclusion.

“Rhodes feels things deeply. He believes in justice; he’s driven to see it done. I’m not sure Evan believes in justice anymore after his time in Karkarus.”

“Imperfect allies, then,” Luca says.

“Most allies are,” I respond, thinking of Kathu and Brangwy. “I don’t want Rhodes disillusioned because of his association with Evan.”

Luca reaches out and closes his hand around mine, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze. “You believe in justice; I believe in justice. I think we have more sway with Rho than Lords. We’ll keep his light burning bright.”

I abandon my sandwich-making to wrap my arms around Luca. “I appreciate you so much.”

He hugs me back and tucks his face against mine, sniffing my neck. “Your scent grows richer every day. Kellan, are you sure it’s safe for you to dive while you’re kittering?”

I nod. “The pressurization spells are for Arch, mainly. Rachel and I learned how to protect ourselves against depressurization when we were diving for Sagoru’s statue. It’s a manipulation of Air, the same as when we fly at high altitudes?—”

“I guessed that. It’s where I was going to start researching.”

“I’ll point you in the right direction. Arch is too paranoid to let any of us cast enchantments on him, particularly something that changes his blood.”

Luca scoffs. “Dick. Why have him on the dives at all?”

I shrug and nestle closer to him, enjoying his warmth. “It’s his team. He brought us together to start with. I don’t want to oust him from his own team. I know he can be arrogant but he’s actually a very powerful Fire mage. Extremely strong offensively and good enough on defense that he can shield the entire team. None of the rest of us can do that.”

“I bet you could now,” Luca says.

I squeeze him. Loyal consort. “Maybe. Strategy isn’t his best thing. I could tell you weren’t impressed during the meeting. He’s better out in the field.”

Luca grunts. “I’ll reserve judgment. Now that Rho’s back, will you let him dive with you?”

“Yes, absolutely. If he wants to, that is.”

“He will.”

Rhodes does want to dive with us, which makes for some friction with Arch, and even more friction with Law. My Cait stalks back and forth over the rocks with the red and white pylon framed dramatically against the sky behind him.

“I can smell something,” he growls.

I can smell something, too. Testosterone. It’s even stronger than the ocean’s brine.

“Bullshit?” Rhodes suggests.

I shake my head and mouth “stop” at him before I turn back to Law.

“Does it smell like a threat?” I ask, trying to settle my consort enough that he lets us walk into the water. We’re all wearing full wetsuits, charmed by Arch against the water’s winter chill. Instead of snorkels, Arch, Val, and I clutch the scraps of parchment containing Viv’s gill spell. As we turn our heads, following Law’s path back and forth over the rocks, sunlight catches on an Air charm I’ve cast to protect our eyes from the salt water.

Law props his fists on his hips and grimaces at the horizon. “No. I’m not sure what it smells like. I’ve never smelled it before.”

“Join Danny where he’s monitoring us. You’ll be able to see us the whole time.”

Law nods and paces off to where Danny’s set up on the sands, the aether around him shimmering with a powerful combination of magic and wards to keep the magic from interfering with his five laptops and something that looks like a miniature satellite dish.

I pick up my bag from the rocks. Arch shoulders his. They contain the transponders that Danny and I have spent years developing and refining. These are waterproof versions. We’re carrying twenty in all but Danny’s hoping we’ll be able to cast a complete net with fifteen or less. It just depends on the underwater topography and the magickal interference we find underwater. Man and mage have occupied this part of the world for thousands of years. There are layers of magic, particularly around a mount which Danny says lies just offshore.

Rhodes catches my free hand and nods at the waves hitting the shore with audible smacks. “Stay close on this first dive. There’s a countercurrent running along the shore. It’s a cold current which could break into whirlpools. Stay in reach of me.”

I nod. When the Water-mage says stay close, I stay close.

“Okay, grid’s up,” Danny calls. He frames a slice of ocean to the north between his arms. “Grid A-zero. That’s where we’re starting. If you can place transponders in A-one through A-three before the twenty minutes are up, you move west. I’ll zap you when you’re in position in case we lose contact.”

Danny shakes his wrist. He wears a string of Teddy’s beads, opaque with a pearly sheen. We all have matching strands around our wrists. They allow Danny to see and hear us. More importantly from Danny’s perspective, they allow him to deliver mild electric shocks via the beads. I’ve asked Teddy to remove that part of the enchantment a dozen times but she just laughed and said Danny promised her a lifetime of free antivirus updates to leave it in place.

With nods, we all stuff the scraps of paper from Viv into our mouths, chew and swallow. Then we wade into the foamy surf. I feel Viv’s spell take hold as my chest gets tight. I quicken my pace to get underwater. The countercurrent Rhodes mentioned is strong, tugging at my legs as I wade in up to my waist, then do a standing dive into the water. As the cold water slaps my face, flutters run up and down my neck. It feels like kisses. My head spins pleasantly as I kick my way deeper. My eyes adjust to the azure deeps. I turn my head from side to side, feeling the stretch and flex of the gills, and check my team. Rhodes swims almost lazily beside me, his long arms and legs sweeping through the water. This probably isn’t even as strenuous as practice for him. Arch and Val swim off to my left. No one looks like they’re having any trouble with the gills. Viv does good Work.

The seabed below grows dotted with seaweed-covered rocks. Schools of small, pinkish fish dart around them. White corals stretch up from the sandy seabed, waving in the strong current.

Rhodes stretches out his hand and a golden line spins out from it. I grab onto the line with one hand, and he pulls strongly to the right, against the current. I realize it’s washing us away from our target zone and nod at Rhodes, grateful for his assistance.

We pass over huge mats of sea grass, growing in miniature forests. Yellow and orange striped-fish, larger than those near the shore, spiral over the tops of the sea grass like buzzards circling on updrafts.

The sea floor, which had dipped, begins to rise and we follow it up into lighter blue water. Huge fans of coral, rich crimson, sunset orange, bright pink, stretch up toward the light. I catch a hint of a longer, more muscular tail disappearing between two car-sized coral fans. It doesn’t look like a shark, though. The tail is visibly scaled and almost opalescent. I’m not aware of any pearly sharks. I point it out to Rhodes anyway, with a yank on the line. But the tail’s gone before Rhodes follows my pointing finger.

Rhodes leads us to a tumble of regularly shaped rocks, crusted lichen and seaweed. We circle the rocks for a minute, checking for anything that might interfere with the transponders. I let my magic lick over the site. Old, old wards flare briefly blue, fading to an antique gold, before they shimmer out of sight. I release them gently. Whatever they protected—maybe an ancient fort, maybe a lighthouse—is long gone. A school of striped, silvery fish dart away from us, disturbed by the vibration.

Arch and I take the transponders out of our bags. We lay them in a diamond pattern among the rocks, fastening them with a charm that will hold them for a month and then dissolve with the transponders, leaving nothing to pollute the ocean or disturb its rhythms.

A sizzle around my wrist from Danny tells me the transponders are placed correctly. I give my team a thumbs up and they all echo my gesture. With a tug on the line. Rhodes leads us onward to the next grid.

We crest the mount, finding rock piles on which to place each set of transponders. As we place the last group, I’m lured by the dark mouth of a sea cave in the side of the mount. A yellow lobster, its tail tipped with red, scurries around the lip of the cave to disappear into a fringe of waving grass. I point it out to Rhodes. He nods but once Arch finishes affixing the last transponder, he pulls the line and leads us away.

From the mount, the sea floor falls away sharply, fading into blue depths. Rhodes doesn’t lead us down. Instead, he heads toward a rocky uplift, crowned with spires of coral and seaweed. We place more transponders after I break another nearly-exhausted ward. This ward doesn’t feel the same as the first one, which had a sense of solidity. This one repels very slightly, like a bad smell.

Three sharp stings from our bracelets have us heading back to shore. My arms and legs are heavy, sluggish, from the unaccustomed activity; I’m grateful for Rhodes’ golden line that keeps pulling me toward land. Arch tugs on the line hard and we all turn to look at him. He beats his chest with his free hand.

Rhodes swims to him and takes his hand. Arch immediately relaxes, probably because Rhodes is helping him breathe. I swim to Val and take her hand, pushing my Element into her to inflate her lungs. Rhodes signals “up” with his free hand. I nod and follow him as he kicks toward the surface.

The day has darkened to scudding grey clouds. A strong breeze pushes the waves into strange geometric shapes outlined by foam. I release Val’s hand, letting her tread water, while I float on my back to bring as much of my body back into contact with my Element. It’s so rare that I’m not immersed in Air that my magickal core feels oddly deprived. Once power flushes me again, I draw a set of runes in the Air and blow on them. A cushion of Air rises under us. Arch and Val flop into it gratefully. After Rhodes sees that I can steer it without him, he climbs into my magickal raft as well and puts his arm around me.

“That countercurrent was so much stronger than I was expecting,” I say. “It made for tough swimming.”

Rhodes nods. “It’s worst near the point, so we should work to the west as much as possible.”

We all agree.

“I saw something that definitely wasn’t a fish,” I tell Rhodes.

“I saw you point but not what you were pointing at,” Rhodes says. “Not a shark?”

I shake my head. “Scales were big and defined. The size of my fist.” I hold one up to demonstrate. “And pearly. I’m not aware of any pearly sharks.”

Rhodes chuckles. “Me, neither. You’re going to want to go back to that sea cave, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Legend says Charybdis lived in an underwater cave along this shore. Sure, that could have been an anthropomorphism, but legends often hold a grain of truth, so that’s where I want to start.”

“I’m betting on that trench to the west,” Arch says. “I thought we might be able to see it on this dive, but we didn’t get that far. I saw it on the underwater maps Danny had. Narrow and deep, perfect for a whirlpool.”

Rhodes grunts but doesn’t say anything. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking: whirlpools are formed by tides. The topography of the seabed plays a part but meeting tides are what create whirlpools.

We float gently to land as the first drops from the heavy clouds patter against our wetsuits. I trudge over the wet sand to Danny and while Danny shows Arch where the transponders have been placed on a colorful map of the seabed, I walk a square around Danny’s set up, tracing runes in the sand. Digging a spare shirt out of my bag, I flap it in the sea breeze and watch it expand into a pavilion that covers our group and equipment.

I strip off the top of my wetsuit to let my skin breathe. Law walks over to me with a striped midnight blue and black sweater and drapes it over my head. It’s definitely his sweater; it smells deliciously like him. I lift handfuls of the warm fabric up to my face for a sniff. Law wraps his arms around me.

“I like seeing you in my clothes,” he says, nuzzling my ear. “But you can always sniff me if you need a hit.”

I nip his chin. “I love the way you smell. I saw a sea cave I want to investigate, once we have the magar online. And something that wasn’t a fish.”

Law grunts. “I saw that, too. Long, split tail.”

“Big, pearly scales. What has big, pearly scales?”

“A big, pearly dolphin?”

I chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

“Something to research when we’re back at the villa, tucked up with lemon tea in front of the fire.”

“That sounds good.”

“It’s a date, Professor.”

I squeeze him even while I wonder if I can still call myself “professor.” I’ve been ignoring my email since we arrived in Italy, focusing on the hunt, but I’m very afraid a summons from the Academic Standards committee is waiting for me.

Law slides a finger under my chin. “Where’d you go?”

“Worrying about what’s happening at Bevvy.”

“Stop. Everything’s under control.”

I lift my brows at him. “It is?”

“I’m in touch with Dean Quinn as a concerned alumnus. You’ve been transitioned to museum staff with full research privileges, seconded to the academic staff for Winter Study. You’re not awarding any grades since Winter Study is pass-fail and Dean Quinn will award the passes for your Winter Study class. There’s no appearance of impropriety.”

I squeeze him harder, overwhelmed that he’s done this for me, and reminded that I’m no longer fighting my battles on my own. “Thank you, Law.”

He gives me a soft kiss on the forehead. “Anything for you.”