In The Dark Of Dreams Part 28

"You have no power here," said a low voice, behind him.

Perrin's gut crunched into a hard ball. He turned, watching as a giant ascended the yacht ladder, dripping seawater. He wore no decoration. Carried no weapons. His hair was long and silver, and deep lines creased his face. His muscles were still taut, though, and strong. He wore his age well.

"Father," Perrin whispered, unable to put any strength in his voice.

Father. Turon O'doro. Eight years had done little to dull the sharp stab of heartbreak that traveled through Perrin when he looked into his father's eyes. He was little again, under that gaze. Just a boy. A boy, searching for some measure of compa.s.sion, anything in his father's eyes that might indicate even the faintest of small pleasures at seeing him again.

He found nothing.

But he heard Jenny breathing behind him. She made everything colder, sharper. He wasn't alone now. It wasn't just his survival that mattered.

Prison yard, Perrin told himself. Live or die.

"I thought you would be dead," said his father, with a particular emptiness in his voice.

Perrin hoped his expression did not change. "If you wanted to be certain, you should have taken my life yourself."

Turon's jaw tightened-and his gaze flicked past him. Perrin resisted the urge to block his view of Jenny. It would do no good and only bring more attention to her.

A frown touched his father's mouth. "Strange reward."

"But mine. As agreed," A'lesander said. Perrin whirled. His old friend was standing, holding Jenny by the arm. She was leaning away from him, her gaze intense, flickering from A'lesander to Perrin, settling on Turon with a sharpness that he hoped his father did not notice.

But it was the possessiveness of A'lesander's grip that concerned him most.

"No," Perrin said. "No."

"She was mine before you met her," A'lesander replied, switching to English. Perrin hadn't even realized they had been speaking the Krackeni native tongue. He'd fallen into it so naturally. "I won't let her suffer for your exile. I'll take her from here. I'll protect her, like I'd always planned to."

Jenny tried to twist out of his grip. "Like you protected me before? f.u.c.k you, Les."

A terrible helplessness stole over Perrin. He felt his father watching, but this was something he could not hide. He wasn't strong enough.

Live or die.

Perrin tried to move toward her, but the hunters barred his way. He was bigger than them, but he did not fight. All he could do was stare at Jenny, watching as some awful realization crossed her face.

"Don't you dare," she whispered. "I don't know what this is, but don't you-"

"Enough," snapped Turon, his voice clicking out the melodic tones of the Krackeni language. "You are still under exile, A'lesander, and will be punished for your trespa.s.s into our territory. You did us a service, however, by finding Pelena's murderer. Take the human and go. What little good it will do you."

Perrin snapped around to stare at his father. "I did not kill Pelena."

"Show me your neck," said his father.

Perrin suppressed a growl, and yanked his hair away from his head. He turned. His father stalked close, sending a chill down his spine.

He expected roughness, but Turon was surprisingly gentle as his thumbs traced the edges of the hole in his head. Perrin shuddered, cringed-just enough to make him hate himself, and his father, a little more than he already did.

"You lost the kra'a," said Turon, his voice dead, quiet.

"I lost it eight years ago," replied Perrin tightly. "A'lesander killed Pelena. He confessed it to me. Ask him where the kra'a is."

"A'lesander would not be able to hold a kra'a, even should he have one in his possession. He is too weak." Turon paused, not seeming to notice how A'lesander's face darkened at his words. "Pelena warned us you would return. She said your kra'a was calling to you. She could feel its dissatisfaction with her body."

"I didn't come here to take back my kra'a," Perrin told him coldly. "You're wasting your time with me. You should be searching for it. Finding some way to quiet the beast before it wakes."

"There is no quiet for the beast. Nothing for it but dreams. You remember that much." Turon hesitated. "You and your dreams."

"Don't," Perrin snapped. "You punished me. Leave it at that."

"I cannot. You are here." His father stood so still, and grim. "Temptation is an ugly thing. What did you think would happen if you killed Pelena for the kra'a? That your soul would be mended? That we would be forced to accept you, simply for the sake of settling the beast?"

Perrin curled his hands into fists. "I would never be so foolish. I told you, I did not come for power. I came because I felt the beast wake."

"Do not lie," whispered his father. "Your connection to the sea was severed."

Perrin swayed toward him. "I felt it. I still feel it. I hear the song of the sea, and I have witnessed the golden eye-"

Turon backhanded him. Jenny gasped, but Perrin just started laughing, cold and bitter, and furious.

"You never could see the truth," he said, spitting blood at his father's feet. "You were never as good at divining souls as S'har or the other singers. Never. Even M'cal, his half-human son, was better than you at singing the souls of the living. That's why they didn't bring you on land to guard our people's secrets. They used you as nothing more than a breeder. And you took it out on me."

His father hit him again. Perrin saw it coming, but received the blow without fighting back. Nearly sent him to his knees.

"I did not kill her," he said, wiping blood from his mouth. "You see I do not have her kra'a."

Turon struck him in the face again, and this time Perrin did go down. He heard some commotion, A'lesander swearing, and suddenly Jenny was standing between him and his father. Back straight, breathing hard.

"Don't you touch him," she whispered.

Perrin found his feet and grabbed Jenny's arm, pulling her behind him. But Turon stared after her, frowning.

"I know your eyes," he said, in rough English. "Little girl."

Perrin swallowed hard. "A'lesander. Get her out of here."

Jenny tried to yank free. "Like h.e.l.l."

"You carried a big stick," whispered his father, and Perrin snarled at him, backing Jenny up until she landed in A'lesander's arms. None of the other hunters moved. Still as statues, conserving their strength. He suspected not one of them was accustomed to the weight of gravity though their eyes tracked his every move. Ready. Waiting.

"Go with him," he told Jenny, hating himself for not being able to protect her. "Please, go."

Jenny's fingers dug into his arm. A'lesander grabbed her waist, but she did not make a sound. Just hung on to Perrin, for all she was worth.

"I love you," he breathed, prying her fingers off his arm.

Jenny slapped him with her other hand. Perrin flinched but managed to tear her off him. A'lesander hauled backward, but she continued to fight.

Perrin spun around to face his father, and got right up in his face so that Turon had to look at him, and not Jenny. Hurt, being near him. Hurt more than he could stomach.

I tried to be good, Perrin wanted to tell him. I tried to be your son.

Turon said, "The girl."

"Not part of this," he replied, sinking into the cold place. Live or die. Live or die. For Jenny.

But his father shook his head, finally looking troubled. "I was certain Pelena was mistaken."

Perrin frowned, but A'lesander swore again. He tore his gaze from Turon, just in time to watch Jenny scratch her nails across his old friend's face.

"f.u.c.k your protection!" she screamed at him. "You murderer! You tried to kill Maurice! You killed that merwo-"

A'lesander struck her. Jenny hit the ground and didn't move.

Perrin roared, lunging at him. His father and several others caught his arms, holding him back. A'lesander stared at Jenny, then his fist. He looked stunned, utterly lost.

"Enough," his father snapped, and nodded at one of the hunters. "Give her to the sea."

Perrin froze. A'lesander's head snapped up. "No."

"You don't want her," said Turon coldly. "You told me she would keep our secrets, but I a.s.sumed it was because she cared for you. Obviously not."

Perrin did not bother arguing. He fought harder, slamming his elbows into guts, twisting and kicking, using every dirty trick he knew as two hunters grabbed Jenny under her arms. A'lesander reached out, making a small sound of protest. For a moment, Perrin thought he would fight them.

But A'lesander did not. All he did was watch, self-loathing creeping into his eyes, as Jenny was dragged to the rail. Her eyes were closed, and her head lolled. The dog, panting and still, whined.

Perrin broke free just as she was tossed over the rail. He followed, entering the water only seconds after her. He tore off his swim trunks and s.h.i.+fted shape, hauling Jenny to the surface. She dragged in a deep, coughing breath.

"Jenny," he said urgently, just before they were pulled under. He tried to hold on, but she was ripped out of his arms. Her eyes flew open.

More hunters appeared from the darkness below, bodies pale as daggers and armed with hooks and rope. Fists slammed into his gut, holding his arms, grappling with his tail. Every time he managed to slip free, someone else would catch him. Jenny was swept away. Hunters gripped her arms and legs, holding her underwater.

Perrin knew the moment she ran out of air. Her face twisted in a terrible grimace that was frantic and wild-and he screamed for her. He screamed. Every broken piece of his soul reaching for her heart.

Heat spread through him, that throbbing fire in the base of his skull. Old power swelled, tingling against his skin. The Krackeni holding him flinched in surprise, fingers loosening. Perrin broke loose, swimming from them in long, powerful strokes as he raced to reach Jenny's side. He sensed his father approaching. Faster, stronger. He had not been on land for the last eight years.

Jenny jerked, head tilting up. Her mouth opened, bubbles escaping. Perrin cried out again, desperate- -and watched as a nimbus of blue light surrounded her head.

All the Krackeni froze, even Turon. Perrin faltered, as well. He knew that light. He knew it so well, but there was no way-no way at all it could be possible. Jenny was human.

And you are bonded, whispered a dry voice inside his mind, achingly familiar, and gentle. I have known her, in dreams, as long as I have known you.

I should not hear you, thought Perrin desperately. You were taken from me. You are no longer in my soul.

The voice of his kra'a murmured, But she is.

The hunters let go of Jenny, drifting away from her, stunned. Perrin, reckless, swam straight into the human woman and hauled her away, tight in his arms. She was still alive, eyes open, clawing at her throat. Sucking down seawater. Blowing bubbles from her nose.

Breathing. She was breathing.

Perrin buried his fingers into her hair, against the base of her skull. He felt something hard and flat against her scalp-hot to the touch. The blue light intensified. Jenny shuddered against him.

Too much. He couldn't even think about it. The hole in his head ached, briefly, and for one moment he felt a terrible jealousy, a profound envy that was dark and bitter.

No, he told himself, ashamed. No, you will not. This is not her fault.

But how was it possible? No matter the bond, no matter the will of the kra'a, Jenny was human.

Wasn't she?

Not according to the sea witch, he thought. She had known all along. All her riddles. Telling him the kra'a was with him, that the answers were between them.

And Jenny . . . she must have known, as well. At least that something was attached to her skull. Why hadn't she said anything?

Perrin glanced over his shoulder. The hunters were following him, and he sensed movement from below. White shapes, distant. Screeching cries and clicks filled the water. Jenny stared at him with frightened eyes. The nimbus of light had faded. Bubbles poured from her nose. Still breathing.

Not that it would help her, or him. Panic clawed, bleeding fire in his belly. Perrin didn't know where to go. Not the boat. No land nearby. He was tiring. His muscles burned.

He glimpsed another flash of movement, a silver streak angling toward him from the darkness. Dolphin, he realized at the last moment.

A dolphin with glowing golden eyes.

Rik.

Perrin rolled sideways, throwing out his arm as the dolphin slid in tight beside them. He caught the dorsal fin and held on with all his strength.

Dolphins were fast. Much faster than a Krackeni.

But his old clan was everywhere-and they had summoned help. He glimpsed the s.h.i.+mmering bodies of viperous deep-sea dwellers, darting quick from the shadows in front of them; men and women s.h.i.+ning with a faint bioluminescence, cavernous bodies mutilated and pierced with decorative bone shards. None of them would ever be able to come on land. No bones, just soft cartilage. The sun would burn their milky eyes. The only reason they could come so close to the surface now was that above it was night, and dark.

They carried nets and spears. Rik twisted, swimming hard in another direction, but the clan hunters were already well ahead of them, sharp whistling clicks vibrating through the water, translating into his mind with all the speed and ease of telepathy.

Herd them. Stop them. Kill the human first.

Jenny's fingers dug into Perrin's shoulders. He didn't see bubbles coming from her nose anymore. Her lips were clamped shut, and her gaze was wild, desperate.

He could not let go of Rik, and there was no good way to tell him to surface. No time, either. He wasn't even certain breathing for her would work.

Do something, he called out to the kra'a. Save her.

And just like that, the nimbus of light returned. Flaring blue as the sky, then deeper, s.h.i.+mmering from Jenny's head down to her feet like fire. Perrin remembered what that would feel like-heat and power, and the throb of a million tiny heartbeats on his skin-but all he felt now was a tingle: pins and needles, as humans would say. He held Jenny close as the light slammed outward in one single pulse.

Rik made a startled sound but did not stop swimming. Everyone else did, though. Perrin glanced back and saw bodies floating, unconscious.

He also saw his father, who was very much awake, though unmoving, his body floating straight as a silver dagger in the water. Staring at him with unfathomable eyes.

Those same eyes, even after eight years. Those same eyes, even after a lifetime of Perrin wis.h.i.+ng he could see, just once, something warm in them. For him.