Page 35

34

Haven

Friday

S avina might have been furious with me moments ago, but now she began to cry. She took a few steadying breaths and reached for me. “Forgive me, Haven,” she said, eyes wet and glinting in the candlelight. “I never wanted this burden. I never wanted any of this. But what am I to do now?”

Standing there stiffly, I let her hug me, thinking of Bria and my father. Like Savina, I still wavered precariously between anger at my dad’s passing—it seemed unfair, losing him when I was so young—and sorrow at all the opportunities robbed of him. All the things he’d never experience, never discover. Which made me think, again, of the Aquila .

A few minutes ago, Savina had said something about the legends and lore her mother had taught her.

“Do you remember,” I asked, “your mother mentioning a ship called the Aquila ?”

Savina’s eyes widened. “The Aquila is why we—the streghe— left Positano. How do you know about it?”

I felt my heart thrum harder in my chest. “It’s one of my open research leads,” I said. “What do you know about it?”

“It was a Mazza ship, for one,” she said. “They were powerful shipowners living in Naples in the early 1800s. They kidnapped several streghe from Positano, vowing to return for more. They intended to use us for their own benefit. Control of the tides, protection from enemies, discovery of sunken treasure. They sent the Aquila to seize more women, but the brig sank, just there.” She pointed to Li Galli.

Savina went on, “The foremost strega , a woman named Mari DeLuca, was rumored to have been in love with one of the men on the vessel.”

Holmes. I could hardly keep from exclaiming aloud.

“My mother said Mari DeLuca resented her witchcraft, too. She shunned her powers over the sea, and look how it turned out for her. Mari’s mother abandoned her. Her little sister drowned. Her lover floundered on the Aquila . Then Mari drowned herself.” Savina raised her hands and let them fall, as if to say, It isn’t any big surprise to me now.

A rush of air left my chest, like I’d just flipped to the last page of a novel only to find that the story ended in tragedy. Only hours ago, I’d been immersed in the beginning of Holmes and Mari’s love story, their early days of growing attraction.

I knew Holmes had gone down with his ship, but Mari’s fate? What a heart-wrenching end for her.

“After Mari died,” Savina continued, “the streghe left the village one by one. Most went north, making for San Marino or Venice, and never returned to the Amalfi region. These other women were my ancestors, and Renata’s, too. Sadly, though, my mother said Renata and I are the last of the living streghe .” Suddenly, she gave me a curious look. “Enzo would be a great father someday, you know. Until this week, I’d nearly given up on him.”

I wanted to defend him—to remind Savina that Enzo had spent the last few years building his business instead of worrying about marriage, something I admired greatly—but given all she’d just revealed, defending him seemed a minor worry.

“Enzo’s daughters,” she went on, motioning to the villa, and then the sea, and then the items at her feet, “would inherit this power, too.”

She held my gaze, her implication now painfully obvious. If Enzo and I were to fall in love, to marry, to have children…well, they would carry this lineage forward.

“My daughter, Bria, badly wanted to marry and start a family. She was our best hope at carrying on the line. Now she is gone. A legacy stretching back thousands of years, and we are the last of it. Except for…”

“Enzo.”

At her slow nod, this suddenly felt a lot more personal. But she must have thought me a fool if she believed I’d give her grandchildren—an arsenal—to help her carry out her atrocious schemes.

“Does Enzo know about stregheria ?” I asked.

She let out a soft laugh. “No. Every Italian has heard of it, but most think it’s a hobby, a diversion for women with too much time on their hands. Just what I thought of my mother, in fact. Enzo believes I have some odd habits, a few strange totems around the house, but what son does not think his mother’s behavior somewhat peculiar?” She motioned to the sea. “He would never suspect this. Never.”

In spite of everything, I felt a surge of relief, knowing Enzo hadn’t lied to me when he’d translated the article. He’d probably just spared me details he considered utter nonsense.

“As I told you,” Savina added, “you are proof this witchcraft is already working. Enzo is not only safe and well, but in the last week, he has been happier than I can ever remember seeing him.”

Did she mean to imply that her powers, her curses, had somehow drawn me to Enzo? How absurd. The mere idea of it was offensive, nonsensical—

Or was it? I’d gone to Enzo’s dive shop precisely because of the strange things going on in the region. Because Gage kicked me off the project and I needed a boat. I’d been instantly attracted to Enzo, unusually so. And just last night, we’d had the hottest sex I’d ever had in my life.

Still— witchcraft?

I spotted Mal coming up the terrace steps. “Haven,” she said, “I think we ought to get going. I—”

“Just one minute,” I called back, interrupting her. “I’ll be right there.”

After glancing over her shoulder, Savina leaned in, putting her lips close to my ear. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” she whispered, “but I can lead you right to it.” On the ground, she retrieved a strand of smooth gray stones, each with a tiny hole allowing the cord to feed through.

Hagstones . I remembered this from the register of sea spells. Intrigued, I took the stones from her, feeling their cool, silky surface. The strand must have weighed a few pounds. I peered at one of the stones, spotting a tiny starfish fossil embedded within.

With a reluctancy that surprised me, I handed them back to her.

“I can find the greatest undiscovered riches,” Savina said. “Whatever you want to achieve, personally or professionally, can happen if you will let it.”

If you will let yourself fall in love with Enzo , she might as well have said, and become his wife and the mother of his children.

“What if I…don’t?” I asked her. “What if I leave Positano in a few days, never to see your son again?” In truth, no matter my feelings for Enzo, I wanted no part of any of this. Even if Savina could lead me to the most valuable shipwrecks in the world.

I wasn’t as shallow as Conrad, after all.

“Renata and I will not quit,” Savina concluded. “I will do whatever it takes to protect what I have left.”

I felt a chill run down my spine, thinking of all that was at stake. The well-being of the region’s residents and its economy. Enzo’s business. The lives of those on the water.

I realized now that what had begun as Project Relic and the hunt for my father’s sunken treasure had transformed into something much more consequential. This wasn’t about my career anymore. This wasn’t about my father anymore.

I couldn’t walk away from this, not knowing all I knew.

If I did, I’d be as guilty as Savina.

***

Mal and I trudged carefully back down the hill in the darkness. Once we were well out of earshot, I recapped our conversation in a frenzied rush of words.

“She made the water…move?” Mal asked in disbelief.

“Twice,” I nodded.

“She creeps me out. Her and all of this.”

“I swear to you, Mal, I’m not making this up. You know I’m as skeptical as they come.”

“And she wants you to…join her?”

“Not join her, really, but—” I turned the key in the scooter’s ignition “—well, she wants a grandchild to carry on her line. She’s desperate for someone to marry Enzo. And she all but told me that if I did, she’d help me however I wanted. Personally and professionally.”

“I’m not following.”

“She says the streghe can find things. They read the water. Sunken loot, and the like.”

“In that case, why isn’t she a billionaire?”

It was a fair question. “Right now, she’s more concerned about using her powers to undo what she thinks is a lifetime of misfortune. Maybe money will matter to her later. Right now, she’s just worried about Enzo.”

We made our way down Amalfi Drive and back toward our own villa. “Well, I think she’s full of shit,” Mal shouted over the engine. “Completely and totally full of shit.”

I wanted badly to agree with her, but I simply couldn’t.

I knew what I’d seen.