Chapter 10

chapter 10

ELLE

I got up when a melodic alarm rang inside my room.

My body ached, and I had a headache like a hangover except the only thing I'd had to drink for the past two weeks had been water.

I'd been doing too much thinking, too hard, and operating heavy machinery on three hours of sleep was probably not going to be optimal, same for meeting other species, but I still I swung my feet out of bed.

The thrill of the hunt would make everything worthwhile. Deciphering a thus far unknown language? Learning new words and their world? I couldn't imagine anything better. I'd been fueled by adrenaline before. I knew it could keep me going for days—and how amazing it would be to use it for something I enjoyed, rather than stalking up and down hospital corridors after dropping off Lena.

I went to the bathroom, pulled on a swimsuit and another set of my cotton scrubs, then walked to the dock. On my way there I found coffee, a bowl of oatmeal, and pieces of bacon left out on the kitchen counter—practically civilized. I gulped the coffee, wolfed down the oatmeal, and took the bacon with me.

I'd worked side by side with certain telepathic species in the past, but I'd never had to bond with any of them—just mostly keep my thoughts to myself, which wasn't that hard. I tended to get obsessed with any project I was working on, so it was easy enough to think on that, or if I noticed my thoughts trailing, something innocuous, like small white dogs or English tea sets. If that made me seem weird to the monsters listening in, they'd always been kind enough to keep it to themselves.

You only had "don't think of the pink elephant" problems when you were too nervous to think of an actual pink elephant, but I was rather shameless where my work was concerned, and willing to think of anything if it got me closer to my goals.

Then again, all of those times before had happened before, when I'd been happier.

Right now I knew if I stopped moving forward, I'd fall apart. It felt like my past was chasing me like a boulder in any number of archeological thrillers I'd seen as a child.

I just needed to concentrate on what was coming up next.

I'd finished the last piece of bacon when I found Marcus and Donna in the dock room. Marcus was standing behind a crane-looking operating deck, using a mechanical arm to pull out one of the tactimetal suits out for me to wear, and Donna was on the floor waving her hands, spotting him, until the suit's feet touched the ground and it was balancing on its own. I took a step forward to inspect it, surprising her, and she startled, jumping back.

"No sudden movements dockside!" Marcus shouted, as he climbed down from his perch.

"Sorry," I told Donna.

She shook it off. "It's not your fault. This room just creeps me out."

"It technically shouldn't exist, so I can't imagine why," I said, giving her a slight smile. I squinted toward the water, trying to spot where my ring had fallen, but I couldn't see it anymore. It was fitting that it'd been swept out to sea. "Thanks for the bacon."

"I figured if you were going to touch a kraken and all, you might need some energy ," she said with emphasis, as her lips curved up into a sly smile.

"If any of them are TV doctors, I'll let you know," I said with a snort, and she gave a dark chuckle.

"All right, back it up," Marcus announced, beginning to wheel a contraption over. It looked like an electric chair from a haunted house, with leather restraints halfway up the arm rests and front legs. "I was up all night building this thing," he complained, bringing it to the edge of the black watery square, before crooking his finger for me to come forward.

"And it is . . . ?" I prompted, without moving.

"For you. Keeps you still for the bonding. Can't have you toppling forward into the water halfway through. You'll need to cuff your pants up."

I continued to inspect it from afar. "This looks more like I'm being sacrificed."

"For science. Sexy, sexy science," Donna deadpanned.

I stared at the thing. If I didn't know that the find of the century was out there in the salty depths, I never would've done it—it would've been too weird, too fast.

But I looked down at the empty ring-finger on my left hand, and my half of a heart tattoo that would never match anyone else's again.

I had nothing left to lose.

I moved to the front of the chair and sat down quickly, tugging up my pants and sleeves.

"That's my girl!" Donna whooped, as Marcus moved to strap me down.

Marcus was careful not to extend any part of his own body over past the red laser square while he tied me, and he was finished he pushed the whole chair down so that my knees were just an inch or so away from it.

"Have you done this before?" I asked him, as he started to step away.

"No. But I've read the handbook."

"There's a handbook?" I asked, my voice rising. "Why didn't I get to read the handbook?" I started, but then something came out of the deep toward me.

I could make out a massive figure floating on the water's far side. My heart jumped into my throat and my bladder considered emptying.

"Oh no," I said. "No, no, no—I'm not ready?—"

"The handbook said you'd say that!" Marcus shouted, from a safe distance back. "Just try to relax! Don't fight it!"

I turned back to look over my shoulder at him. "Fuck your handbook!" I shouted, just as something firm, cold, and slippery touched my right hand and then wound about my wrist. I shrieked, and I would've jumped the chair away if it weren't so heavy.

It was one of the kraken's tentacles. It was dripping wet, and just as frigid as the sea it'd come from. Why wasn't he—or she!—using their hands? They had hands, right? I squinted, trying to see through the dark water, to make sure I wasn't being fondled by some other random-ass sea creature.

I panted in fear, then checked over my mind. I still felt alone—which was right—because I was alone—which was why I was down here, doing stupid things in the name of science— oh-my-God —two more tentacles pushed through the barrier, each looping one of my ankles.

"The handbook says you need four points of contact for the bonding to occur!" Marcus shouted from his much safer perch behind me.

"Again, and I mean this truly, fuck your handbook!" I shouted back, this time without turning away from the ocean. "English tea sets. Small white dogs. English tea sets. Small white dogs," I started hissing to myself in a protective susurration as I saw the final tentacle come through. It looped around my left wrist and I found myself completely immersed in dark water .

Do you know why you die when you drown?

It's because the oxygen in the air we breathe is the final electron acceptor for your main energetic battery-like processes. Without it, your individual cells cannot function, which means they also cannot work in aggregate—the muscles of your heart cannot contract and the nerves in your brain cannot fire.

And it felt like I could feel each and every one of my cells was screaming for air now.

I thrashed, trying to get free, and was completely unable to. My eyes were closed, so I opened them, but I was surrounded by water, cold and pressing. My lungs were burning, using all of their oxygen up; the kraken must have pulled me into the sea. I needed to reach the surface before my air ran out— why wasn't I dead yet?— I was dying—everything was agony?—

"Elle of the Air—relax. Breathe." It was a sonorous command, coming from all around, a masculine voice in a tone I couldn't ignore.

"I can't," I whispered, in my mind, with my lips clamped shut.

"You can. Inhale for me."

I didn't have a choice—my lungs were on fire—I was going to die with or without water in my body.

I gasped—and found myself breathing air.

The panic I'd been suffused with began to die down, and I realized I was still inside my body, and not the sea. The tentacles at my wrists and ankles were pulsing different colors in a mesmerizing array—and I realized I hadn't been near death, just sensing what it was like to be him—and I was sure it was a him —on the other side of the water-wall.

It was so strange. And—peaceful.

Quiet.

And—his tentacles cinched tighter for a moment, distracting me as I stared down at them with an open jaw, taking deep breaths of air.

My mind felt disconnected from my body, like I was hovering outside myself .

"I feel the same," he told me. "Are you here of your own volition?"

I blinked, and realized how curious I must look to him, lashed to a chair like an erstwhile Odysseus.

"I am," I said, then asked, "You?"

"Yes. And I am pleased I do not need to summon my people to rescue you."

"Me too." Although the thought of being rescued by a kraken army had a slight appeal.

What if Andromeda had been pissed when Perseus showed up?

"Your kind's myths about my people are so interesting," he said—and I realized he'd been able to hear my thoughts.

Oh, fuck!

English tea sets, small white dogs, English tea sets ? —

"Calm yourself, Elle of the Air," he said, and I heard him inside my mind, clear as a bell. Normalcy was slowly being slowly restored. The suckers on the bottoms of his tentacles were pulsing against my skin, and it was like they were pulling me back into my body. "You have my word, as both your bodyguard and a kraken, that I will not pry into your mind without permission. It is just that both of our minds are very close to the surface right now, because of the bonding."

I blinked and nodded. "What is your name?" I asked, with my mouth and with my mind.

"Cepharius."

"Of the sea?"

"If you like."

The safest thing for me to do now was to pepper him with questions, rather than give myself any extra time to think. "How long does this take? How long will it last? What does it feel like for you?"

The last question I blurted out on our connection and then wished I could take it back, feeling myself grow flush, because it felt invasive.

He took my questions in stride though. "It takes as long as it takes. It lasts until I sever it. As for what it feels like for me—I would rather not say."

"Oh," I thought softly. "Am I . . . hurting you?"

He paused, as though assessing himself for damage. "Not currently," he answered, then began unlooping his tentacles from me. "The bonding is through," he announced, and I sagged against the chair.