Bay of Sighs Page 37

When the last note echoed off, and her companions applauded, Annika took a laughing bow.

“First, wow, major kudos on the pipes. Where’d you learn that?” Riley wondered.

“There is a big theater by the sea, far from here. For three nights they told this story with songs. It’s not happy because the woman who sang that song dies.”

“That’s opera for you,” Riley told her.

“But the songs and voices? So beautiful, so I went to listen every night they sang. I can teach you the song.”

“You couldn’t teach me to sing like that if we had a couple decades.”

“And we don’t.” Sasha stopped. “It’s there. The cave, it’s there.”

The mouth opened, tall and narrow, in the rock. Spindly brush clung to the top, drooping down like a sagging awning. And over that a black snake slithered.

“Wall lizard,” Riley said.

“That’s no damn lizard.” Sawyer’s fingers itched for the gun tucked at his back under his shirt.

“Just a whip snake—not poisonous.” Smirking, Riley took out her water bottle. “But they do like to bite.”

She took a quick swig, replaced her bottle, started forward toward the cave. Muttering about snakes, Sawyer stepped behind her.

“Wait! Stop!”

Leaping after him, Sasha grabbed his hand. Nearly at the mouth, Doyle and Riley turned.

“Don’t go in. Don’t . . .” Her eyes went darker, deeper. “Don’t go in. Don’t go near.” She turned to Sawyer. “Pain, fear, the shadows of death. Blood and rage. Water and traps. I don’t know. I can’t see clearly. You. Annika.”

“Annika?”

“It’s not safe for you. For either of you. Don’t go in. Stay away, Anni.”

“I’m here. Don’t worry.” Her voice pitched to soothe, Annika took Sasha’s other hand. “We won’t go inside.”

“He’ll use it. Use you. One to the other. Don’t believe him.”

“Malmon.”

“Malmon. Not what he was, not what he will be. But hers. You can’t go inside.”

“Okay. We’ll stay out. We’ll stay right here,” Sawyer assured her. “What about the others?”

“What?”

“Is it safe for us?” Bran nudged Sawyer aside. “Do the rest of us go in?”

She let out a long breath. “I don’t feel anything for the rest of us. Just Annika and Sawyer. It’s life and death for them inside. For us? It’s a cave.”

“All right then. They’ll stay out here, and we’ll go in, see what we have.”

Sasha nodded. “Please.” She took Sawyer’s hand again, gripped Annika’s. “Promise.”

“You got it. We’re out here.”

But when the others went in, he stared at the mouth.

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me,” Annika repeated. “You won’t go in. You won’t use the compass, and come back to go in and see.”

Since he’d toyed with just that, he hesitated.

“You promise me. I promise you. Because we believe in Sasha.”

Damn it. “You’re right. Okay. I promise, I won’t go in—unless there’s no choice. Unless one of us is in trouble inside. Good enough?”

“Yes. I promise the same.”

She took his face, kissed him. “Now it’s an oath, and can’t be broken.”

He thought of Doyle’s words—wrapped up like a trout—but didn’t see where he had much choice.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The cave, they reported as they took time to rest, eat, drink before starting the hike back, was simply a cave.

Wide and deep and dry.

Sasha sketched it, added the dimensions Doyle estimated, as well as the narrow tunnel that forked off into a second chamber, wider, deeper than the entrance.

Using the sketch, Doyle marked the best places to lay their traps.

“Not too close to the entrance.” Bran, too, studied the sketch. “We’d want as many of them inside as possible when, and if, I set them off.”

“Why the hell would they use a cave way the hell up here?” Riley wondered. “He’s after a villa—and that suits Malmon. A cave, that suits Nerezza.”

“It’s not hers,” Sasha insisted.

“Whatever reason, he has something planned, or why see danger inside for two of us?” With a nod, Bran approved Doyle’s marked positions. “I can work with this. What I’ve made can cure in the cave as easily as it can in the workshop. What do you say, Sawyer? You and I take a quick trip down, gather what’s needed, bring it back again?”

“Sure.” Instinctively Sawyer reached for his compass, then angled his head. “You can get us down there, right? Like you took Sasha to the promontory in Corfu.”

“Here to there? I can, yes. Easy as a Sunday drive.”

“I’ve never traveled your way.”

“Well then, I’ll give you a ride.” Bran rose, reached down. The men gripped forearms. “We’ll be back shortly.”

And they winked away.

“I miss driving,” Riley commented.

Doyle polished off a sandwich. “Tell me about it.” He shoved to his feet, wandered off, then stood staring out at the sweeping view of blue water, white rock, and the green with the tumble of houses below.

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