Awakening (Birth of Magic #1) Page 14

  I could easily vanish us to Edinburgh or most anywhere else. That would give away to Ethan that I was a witch. Despite what he had just told me, I didn’t want him to know about me just yet. Not until we didn’t have any choice.

  I decided to try something between the two extremes. I waited until Ethan had gone to sleep and then I levitated into the air. I didn’t like to fly much if I could help it. I wasn’t scared of heights; I just preferred to keep solid ground beneath me. It was a lot safer that way. Out in the ocean I’d just have to worry about getting wet.

  Even with my nightcrystal lenses on there wasn’t much to see, just a lot more ocean. Like the old sailors I used the stars to fix my position and then took off to the north. With any luck I’d run into a ship not too far away, one Ethan and I could row towards.

  It soon became apparent that wasn’t going to happen. I flew probably a good twenty miles before I saw the lights of a ship. As I closed in, I saw it was an ocean liner, the kind of ship I had eschewed in favor of the Gardenia. That certainly hadn’t worked out for the best.

  I did a couple of slow circles around the ship to make sure no one was watching. Then I descended to land on the stern. I heaved a sigh of relief, grateful to be back on something solid. Some witches in the coven could fly for days without breaking a sweat, but I didn’t have much knack for it. Neither did Alexis. Caroline had rarely left our estate, except to visit the archives.

  Though I had no idea what ship this was, I could find my way to the bar. The bartender already had the chairs stacked up when I sat down on a stool. “We’re closing in a minute, miss” he said.

  “Then we’ll make this quick. Give me a whiskey.” He glared at me for a moment but then poured me a shot. I downed it in one gulp. “You got any leftovers back in the kitchen there?”

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Then go check, would you, fella? I’m starving.”

  While he went back to the kitchen, I took the liberty of leaning over the bar to pour myself another shot. I should get back to Ethan in case he woke up. It would be hard to explain to him where I’d been if he woke up and I was gone.

  “All’s we got is a little cold roast beef,” the bartender said.

  “Fine with me.” I’d eaten far worse than that in my time. I wolfed down the beef and drank a couple more shots of whiskey. “Thanks, pal.” I slapped down a ten dollar bill to compensate him for his trouble.

  I turned on my stool to look around the silent bar. “Where do you suppose we’re at right now?” I asked him.

  “First mate said we’re not getting to Lisbon until tomorrow night at best.”

  “That’s a shame. But I guess that gives me plenty of time to sober up.”

  The bartender studied me for a moment. “You need any help getting back to your stateroom?”

  “No, that’s fine. I can make it on my own.” I wobbled a little for effect as I left the bar. I sobered up once I was out of his sight. There was still no one in the aft section of the ship. No one to notice as I levitated into the air.

  Before I took off to the south, I drifted down enough to get the name of the ship. I recognized it as one that left from Rampart City. There might be War Department agents on board or maybe even Nazis. At this point we’d have to risk it. We didn’t have any other good options.

  Finding the tiny lifeboat was a chore. I circled around for the better part of an hour before I finally saw a speck of white bobbing on the waves. I descended slowly, in part to see if Ethan was still there and still asleep. Right on both counts.

  Landing was more difficult than taking off. I had to hover just inches above the lifeboat and then carefully guide myself down to a stop. I stumbled a bit but managed to keep from falling on my face.

  With a sigh I sank down into the boat, feeling exhausted again. It was cold enough that I pressed myself against Ethan’s body to share its warmth. He mumbled something and then rolled over. His hand touched my hair and a smile came to his face. I winced when he mumbled Celia’s name.

  “Goodnight, Ethan,” I whispered to him.

  ***

  I didn’t sleep long. Just a couple of hours, until the horizon was gray as night began to fade. Ethan had his arm around me and his body curled against mine. He still had a smile on his face; no doubt he still thought I was Celia. In a few hours he’d wake up to the grim reality that she was dead and we were out in the Atlantic on a lifeboat.

  I slipped out of his grasp, careful not to wake him up. I slid up to the bow, where I could huddle there by myself. Closing my eyes, I thought of the Divine Wind spell, one I hadn’t used in a long time. Because of this I had to chant the words under my breath. I repeated the spell over and over again, until I could feel a stiff wind blowing into my face.

  From there I didn’t have to do a lot. The wind kicked up the waves to propel the lifeboat northward. The boat tossed around so much that I had to grab onto the sides for balance. It didn’t take long for Ethan to stir. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “The water’s starting to get choppy,” I said.

  Even in the dim morning light I could see his face turning green again. At least this time there were no sailors around to make fun of him for throwing up over the side. He didn’t have much to vomit, though, so that soon it became dry retching.

  I patted him on the back as he recovered. “It’s all right. We’re not going to tip over.” At least I hoped not. Divine Wind was one of those spells that could be subjective, depending on the witch’s skill. If I’d done the chant too fast, we might wind up getting capsized.

  Ethan recovered himself enough to ask, “Shouldn’t we start rowing?”

  “The sea’s too rough for that. We’ll just let the current take us along,” I said.

  I couldn’t be sure how fast the ocean liner I’d boarded last night would be going, nor was I as good with math as someone like Ethan to calculate a rendezvous point. So for most of the day I focused on keeping Ethan from drinking seawater and trying to ignore the rumbling of our stomachs.

  The ship came into view sometime during the afternoon. “Look, a ship!” Ethan shouted. I turned around, pretending to be surprised by this.

  I was just quick enough to keep Ethan from falling over the side when he shot to his feet and began waving. “What the hell are you doing?” I snapped. “Sit down.”

  “But they aren’t going to see us!”

  “They can’t do anything until we’re closer. Unless you want to try swimming all the way there.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  We settled in for the dreadful wait as our lifeboat slowly closed in on the ocean liner. I took off my jacket when I figured we were close enough and then began waving it over my head. A rough voice finally acknowledged us by saying, “We’ll throw you a line!”

  The process of getting us onto the ship took until nearly nightfall. First we had to catch a line and tie it to the bow of our boat. A second line attached to the stern to stabilize the lifeboat enough that they could begin pulling us up. That took the better part of an hour, during which I could only keep a hand on Ethan’s arm and hope they didn’t drop us. Otherwise I’d have to vanish us and then things would get awkward.

  But they didn’t drop us. We made it to the top, where a couple burly sailors helped us over the edge. “Thank God!” Ethan shouted.

  “What were you two doing out there?”

  “Our yacht caught on fire,” I said before Ethan could tell them the truth. I figured it would be best to keep Nazi U-Boats out of the story. Otherwise we’d probably have a nice little reception waiting for us in Lisbon. “We barely got on the boat in time.”

  “You’re damned lucky we found you. Could have just as easily floated out there until you were skeletons.”

  “Thank you very much, sir,” I said. I put my arm around Ethan’s shoulder. “My husband and I are terribly famished and thirsty. Could we continue this conversation over dinner?”

  One of the sailors turned out to be the first ma
te. He took us to the dining room; I saw the bar where I’d sat about twelve hours earlier. I hoped the bartender wouldn’t recognize me. Or maybe he would just assume I was an ordinary passenger.

  They brought us a pitcher of water and some sandwiches. Ethan devoted himself to eating and drinking while I spun the first mate a cock-and-bull story. I told them we were sailing around the world for our honeymoon. We hadn’t got too far before the ship caught on fire and we were stuck in the lifeboat. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along,” I said, faking a few tears.

  “You’re safe now, ma’am. We’ll find a stateroom to put you up until we get to Lisbon. In the meantime, is there anyone you’d like us to contact?”

  “No, that’s fine. It can wait until we get to Lisbon.”

  The first mate stood up from the table. “I’ll make the arrangements.” He patted my shoulder in a little too friendly fashion. “You’re both very lucky to be alive.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I grumbled under my breath as he left.

  ***

  Our stateroom was much bigger than on the Gardenia. We actually had enough room to turn around if we wanted. Ethan didn’t look nearly as sick as on the lifeboat or the steamer; either he’d finally got his sea legs or the liner was big enough that he couldn’t feel it moving so much. He gratefully sank onto the bottom bunk with a sigh. “Thank God,” he said again. “I thought we were going to die out there.”

  “I’m not going to let you die,” I said.

  “Maybe you won’t have a choice.”

  “Just try to get some sleep. We should be in Lisbon by the morning.”

  “Then what? They found us out there in the middle of the ocean. What makes you think they aren’t going to find us again?”

  He brought up a good point. I knew we couldn’t go to Edinburgh now, except as a quick stopover if I had to vanish us there. That the Nazis had caught us on a boat heading to England meant they would be searching the British Isles for us. The question then was where we could go. I’d been thinking about that on the lifeboat without coming up with any ideas.

  “You leave that to me,” I said.

  “You’re the expert,” Ethan said; I couldn’t be sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

  “We’ll figure something out.” I would have liked to get some rest on a decent bed with plenty of warm covers, but Ethan brought up a good point. I had to plot our next move, one that would keep us ahead of the Nazis. “I’m going out. Keep the door locked.”

  “You think they might be on the ship?”

  “They aren’t the only bad guys in the world.”

  “Good point.”

  I left Ethan, making my way up towards the bridge. A crewman stopped me before I could open the door. “No one but the crew allowed up here, ma’am,” he said.

  “I’d like to see the first officer. My name’s Elizabeth MacArthur—the woman you guys picked up earlier.”

  This got his attention. He hadn’t been there, but gossip traveled fast even on a ship this big. “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am. Wait here.”

  He came back two minutes later with the first mate. “Accommodations not to your liking, miss?”

  “They’re quite lovely, thank you. I was just hoping that I could see your charts. My husband and I plan to continue our voyage as soon as we can procure another vessel.”

  The first mate considered this for a moment and then nodded. “Not a problem, ma’am. Follow me.”

  The bridge was a hive of activity since the ship was just a few hours out of Lisbon. The first mate took me to a rear compartment, where the navigator had a chart of the area spread out. “You have any particular area in mind, miss?”

  “A chart of the Mediterranean if you have one,” I said.

  The first mate fetched a map of the entire Mediterranean Sea, which he spread out on a table for me. “Beautiful sailing in those waters,” he said. “Went on my honeymoon in the Aegean.”

  “Yes, I hear Greece is lovely.” I had been there a couple of times to hunt monsters, but never for any extended period of time. I avoided looking at Italy; that was the last place I wanted to take Ethan except for Germany. My finger traced south, first to Egypt. I remembered my extended stay in Cairo; another place I wouldn’t want to visit again. Going back to the east, I eventually stopped at Morrocco.

  Casablanca. I had never been there, but I had heard through my old rumrunner contacts that one of the men I’d worked with had moved there. He’d opened a bar there; supposedly he was doing good business.

  It would be risky to meet with him. First I’d have to explain why I looked about thirty years younger than the last time he’d seen me. I could say I was a daughter or niece, but there was no guarantee he’d believe me or help me hide Ethan. But at this point it was about the best I could do without revealing myself to Ethan.

  “Thank you so much for this, sir. I think I’ll retire to my stateroom now.”

  “Would you like an escort, miss?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Ethan wasn’t asleep when I came into the room. From the way he was staring blankly at the wall, he was probably thinking of Celia again. Out of politeness I asked, “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. He sat up on the bed. “I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t.”

  “You’re just not tired enough. You’ll sleep eventually.”

  “Maybe.”

  To change the subject, I said, “I think I know where we’re going next.”

  “Where?”

  “Morocco.”

  “Morocco? I thought we were going to Scotland.”

  “The Nazis know we were on a ship going to Liverpool. They’ll be searching all of Britain for us.”

  “But you figure they won’t think we’ll go south. Just like Baltimore.”

  “In part. There’s also someone I know there. An old friend of my mother. He should be willing to help us.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “Then we’ll think of something on our own. We can lose ourselves in the jungle if we have to.”

  “Like Tarzan?”

  “Sure. You can make friends with the apes and live in a tree if you want.”

  “Sounds swell.”

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” I was about to climb onto my bunk when Ethan grabbed my arm. “Something wrong?”

  “Last night, on the lifeboat, I slept a lot better than I had since all this happened. I was thinking maybe we could try it again.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “We don’t have to fool around. I just don’t want to be alone.”

  “I can ask the first mate to get you a teddy bear.”

  Ethan rolled over, turning his back to me. “I’m sorry I asked.”

  I stared at his back for a long moment. It had felt good to cozy up to Ethan on the lifeboat, to feel his warm body against me. It had been a long time since that had happened. And I knew from experience the loneliness he was feeling. A little companionship might do us both good.

  I took off my boots and then gently lay down next to him. I tapped his shoulder until he turned to look at me. “This doesn’t mean anything, understand? And once we get to Casablanca you sleep by yourself. You’re too old to need to climb into Mama’s bed.”

  “I understand.” He smiled at me. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s just get some sleep.” I turned away from him, staring at the wall for a while. His arm draped over my waist, pulling me close, not wanting to let me go. I closed my eyes and let him hold on to me through the rest of the night.

  Chapter 14

  The city was hot and crowded, the large number of people only adding to the heat. I had spent some time in the desert, so I could handle it a lot better than Ethan. He was used to the muggy heat of Rampart City summers, but not the dry heat of Morocco, the kind of heat where even the wind was hot. Making it worse for him was that he was carrying the bags.

  He stop
ped to wipe the sweat from his forehead, though a few seconds later more was already beading up. “You want me to help you with those?” I asked.

  “No, I can do it.” He looked around the marketplace, at the native men who didn’t seem fazed at all by the heat. “It wouldn’t be right to ask you to do it.”

  “Because I’m a woman? I think you know by now I’m not a hothouse flower.”

  Ethan wiped at his brow again. “Wouldn’t that blow our cover?”

  I smiled at this; Ethan was starting to understand how the undercover game worked. “I suppose you’re right.”

  He continued to struggle with the bags as we made our way through the marketplace. Vendors hawked everything from clothes to fruits to weapons. I stopped at one selling sweetened dates; I had eaten tons of these during my stay in Cairo. After popping a date into my mouth and savoring its sweetness, I asked the vendor in French, “I’m looking for a man. An American. His name’s Vic Richards.”

  “Oh yes, Mr. Vic! He owns a bar near here. Very popular with the tourists.” The vendor gave me directions, for which I gave him a couple extra francs.

  We didn’t go there right away. We’d blend in a lot easier if we went at night, when there were bound to be a lot more customers. “Come on, let’s get something to drink,” I said to Ethan. Looking around the marketplace at the crowds of people, I added, “Don’t trust anyone.”

  “I won’t.” Ethan might have been sweet and trusting back in Rampart City, but he’d gotten an education on the real world since leaving Cuthbert College. In a way it saddened me to think he was turning bitter and cynical, becoming like me. Losing the one you love has a way of doing that to you.

  We found a café where we could sit in the shade and drink iced tea. While we sat there, I studied the crowds. There were a number of burly guys with blond crew cuts who looked wildly out of place. Nazis. They might be here on other business, or they might be keeping an eye out in case we showed up. If so, it was their lucky day.

  I knew then this hadn’t been a good idea. We might have to go into the jungle after all. I didn’t relish having to live like a native in the bush. There were too many ways a city boy like Ethan could get killed in that environment: snakes, crocodiles, lions, poisonous plants, mosquitoes carrying malaria, or who knew what else. Even in a city like this most of the dangers were manmade.