Daide reached the bridge in time to hear Viktor bellow, “What do you mean she’ll try to return Ketha? How’d she end up on the animals’ world in the first place?”

“We don’t know.” Leif didn’t bother to placate Viktor; he sounded tired and like he wanted to get on with finding out exactly what Ceridwen had in mind.

“There has to be more than what you’ve told me.” Viktor advanced on Leif, green eyes narrowed and radiating danger. “Are Poseidon and Ceridwen in cahoots?”

Leif held his ground. “How would I know? Remember who your allies are.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his words were lined with steel.

Viktor stopped in his tracks, deflating like a balloon pricked by a pin. He dragged the heels of his hands down his face. “Jesus, mate. I’m sorry. I went a little nuts when Ketha was taken. I’ve moved past railing at fate, but I’m still a long way from myself.”

“Understandable.” Leif scanned the room and aimed his next words at the sea Shifters. “I entered into a blood pact with the goddess. It was the only way to ensure she wouldn’t hold us here forever.” His nostrils flared. “You must talk among yourselves and select your next alpha in case I’m no longer able to fill that role.”

“But why?” one of the whales asked. “You bargained for our freedom.”

“Blood gives her power over me.” Leif spread his fingers wide. “I’m not planning on falling prey to her machinations, but I’d be worse than a fool not to recognize how strong she is.”

A female dolphin stepped forward. “We won’t let her have you.”

Leif leveled his gaze at her. “You will not put yourself at risk. No matter how things unfold. Is that understood?”

“Is that an order?” she countered.

“Yes. From your alpha,” he replied.

“I’ve engaged a new course to put us in position to launch Zodiacs for Malaita Island,” Juan said from where he stood next to the wheel.

“There are humans there, animals too,” Karin spoke up.

“Anything magical beyond Ceridwen?” Aura asked.

Daide started to say no, but then remembered how evasive Ceridwen had been. She’d responded to Karin’s question with one of her own, asking what possible difference others with magic would make.

“Well?” Aura pressed.

“Ceridwen hedged,” Daide replied. “Makes me think she’s hiding something.”

Karin made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a snort. “The gods have never shared much of anything with those like us. No reason for them to start now.”

“So we might acquire assistance from unexpected quarters,” a whale said.

Leif shook his head. “Don’t count on it. If there are other magic-wielders, Ceridwen established dominion over them long since. She’s always had to be at the top of the heap.” He cracked a bitter grin. “Wonder if she still has that kettle of hers.”

“Och, and ’twas always a sore point,” Zoe muttered. “Whatever you do, don’t mention boiled babies.”

“Huh?” Daide glanced at Karin. “That never came up in the two-minute tutorial while we walked up the stairs.”

“Because I couldn’t cover everything and only hit the high points,” Karin retorted. “Zoe, you brought it up.”

“Aye, that I did. Ceridwen was originally a Witch. One of her children, a boy, was ugly, misshapen, and dumb as a block of wood. Ceridwen hunted far and wide for a special mixture of herbs and flowers for her cauldron. The blend had to boil for a year and a day. At the end of that time, three drops would impart wisdom and poetic inspiration that she hoped would transform her son into a bard. More than three drops was a fatal poison.”

Zoe stopped to take a measured breath. “To shorten the telling, the boy stirring the pot ended up with the three drops by mistake, and Ceridwen chased him for months. In some tellings, she ate him. In others, she threw him into the kettle. Regardless, one sure way to fall into her ill graces is to crack jokes about boiled babies.”

“How’d she change from a Witch into a goddess?” Recco asked.

“Ready to drop anchor,” Juan broke in and added, “Perhaps you could ask her since we’ll be there soon.”

“Not a particularly good idea, either,” Karin mumbled.

Daide drew her aside. “I’m getting the impression you’d rather remain aboard Arkady.”

“True enough, but it’s not an option. The ones she hasn’t met can do that, but we can’t.”

“Gangway in a quarter hour,” Viktor said in clear dismissal.

“What do you want us to do?” Boris asked.

“Us as in the nine humans aboard?” Viktor clarified. At Boris’s nod, he went on. “Up to you, but you might be safer remaining on the ship.”

“Do you suppose she’d notice if we took the raft in to shore for an opportunity to wander around a bit?” Ted spoke up. “It’s warmer here, and we might find greens.”

“Karin indicated there were other people,” Boris said. “Perhaps some might want to come with us. We still need crew.”

“That we do,” Juan agreed. “Our two-hour watch system is working, but we’re spread quite thin.”

“Some of this we’ll have to play by ear,” Viktor said. “Get moving so you’ll be ready when the rafts are.”

“A couple of you meet me down by the anchor.” Juan strode out of the bridge.

“We could do that,” Daide said to Karin.

“We could,” she agreed and followed the path Juan had taken.

Three flights down, they walked into a colorful dawn. The sky was riddled with shades of red and pink where the sun hid behind thick clouds. Juan had most of the heavy lifting done by the time they joined him. He trained his hazel gaze on them.

“Any relationship between the Witches who parlayed with the sea Shifters and Ceridwen?”

Daide felt like someone had kicked him in the guts. He hadn’t seen the connection, but of course there had to be one.

“Maybe.” Karin sounded as if she’d bitten through a handful of nails.

“If there is,” Daide said, “we have to make certain Leif is never alone with her.”

“Easier said than done, particularly since he entered into a blood pact with her,” Karin observed. “He’s beyond independent, and she’s a wily one. She can wave a hand and order us to leave. Or hypnotize us with those odd eyes of hers. Look.” She straightened from where she’d been bent over the anchor housing. “Let’s wait until we’re on the island. We’ll know a hell of a lot more about potential allies—and enemies—than we do right now.”

“What can we do to get the rafts ready?” Daide asked. Having a concrete task was suddenly very appealing.

“If the humans remain here, we’ll only need one raft since I’m certain our sea kin will swim,” Juan replied. “If you want to go center a raft in the sling, be my guest.”

“Fourteen will be a tight fit,” Daide noted.

“I expect some of us will stay with Arkady,” Karin said. “Moira will likely take to her vulture form.” She addressed her next words to Juan. “Will it grow warmer as the day wears on?”

He shrugged. “I doubt it. We had perpetual winter in Ushuaia courtesy of the Cataclysm. From what we’ve encountered so far, my guess is the weather patterns altered worldwide.”

“I’ll meet you at the gangway,” she told Daide and hurried to a nearby door.

“I’m done here. I’ll help with the Zodiac,” Juan said, selecting an outside staircase leading up one level.

Daide trotted after him. “What are you expecting to find here—beyond Ceridwen?”

“After South Georgia and McMurdo, I’ve trimmed my expectations, amigo.” Juan flipped a raft upright, and Daide went to work arranging the sling.

“I’ve never been here before, so anything you know would be helpful.”

Juan creased his brow as he thought. “Geographically, it reminds me of South Georgia, long and narrow with a mountainous interior. Like many of these South Pacific islands, the people were tapped as slaves for years, mostly by Australia, but by Fiji too. The island was a British protectorate for a while, but they’ve been a free nation since the late 1970s. If we’re lucky, there will be sweet potatoes and taro root since they grow without much tending.”

The clouds overhead had shaded to a dull gray, and they spat rain. Daide pulled a hood over his head.

“Good idea. It’s always wet here.” Juan mirrored his actions. “Used to be warm and wet. Do you have any sense about how likely we are to see Ketha again?”

“None. From the history I was taught, we can’t get into the animals’ borderworld, which might argue she can’t leave.”

“But she’s in her wolf form. The animals come and go. I asked my bondmate to try to find out what happened.”

“Any word yet?”

Juan shook his head.

“My coyote left on its own without any prodding from me. It’s not back, either. Raft’s ready.”

“Let’s get it into the water.” Juan tossed a life jacket Daide’s way.

He hung it over one arm, planning to don it later, and lowered the raft with Juan in it. Once he’d retrieved the sling, he slipped back inside, planning to find Karin and do a better job dressing for wet weather.

He stopped by his cabin first and located a light pair of waterproof pants to layer over his trousers. He tossed a few items into a duffel and wondered if they should bring medical supplies. He’d kick it around with Karin, but was almost certain she’d say yes.

A few quick steps brought him to her cabin about the time a low, keening wail reverberated through the air. Not bothering to knock, Daide pushed the door open. Karin had clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle further sounds. Leif had an arm around her, and so did Aura.

Daide fought a jab of jealousy. What was Leif doing? Had his original suppositions about the sea Shifter’s interest in Karin been more accurate than he’d believed.

“Shut the door,” Aura said, her voice terse.

He complied, kicking the door shut. “What happened?”

Karin dragged herself clear of both Aura and Leif. “My wolf just returned from the animals’ world. In order to ensure Ketha’s safety, her wolf locked her in its form. It’s how they ended up where they are.”

“So?” Daide didn’t understand. “Her wolf can come to us, and they can reverse whatever it did.”

“Doesn’t work like that,” Aura said, still sounding grim.

“Sorry to be dense, but you have to say more.” Daide glanced from one to the other, avoiding Leif’s direct stare. Maybe the sea Shifter would make a more suitable mate for Karin. They were better matched magically, and they shared a knowledge base Daide was just tapping the surface of... He shut that line of thought off fast.

“Ketha can’t join us,” Leif spoke slowly. “For the wolf to move out of the borderworld requires its human as a drawing factor.”

“There may be a way to overturn the magic,” Karin said.

“Not without severing her bond with her wolf,” Aura cut in.

“Nothing we can do about any of it right now.” Leif crossed the cabin in two long strides. “I’ll see you on the island. I’m swimming with my kin.” The door shut behind his departing form.

“Who’s going to talk with Viktor?” Daide asked. It had to be done, but he didn’t relish being the bearer of bad news.

“He already knows,” Karin replied. “My wolf made certain to inform his raven.”

Daide gripped Karin’s arm. “Can you bring your bag along?”

The confusion and pain in her copper eyes cleared. “My medical supplies?” At his nod, she added, “I’d planned on it.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the raft. I’m going up to the bridge to do what I can for Vik.” Daide wanted to hug her, but maybe it wouldn’t be welcome. Not after she’d been in Leif’s arms. Wishing to hell he knew more, that a Shifter rule book existed in written form, he turned on his heel and bolted from the cabin and up three flights of stairs.

He pushed onto the bridge, not sure what to expect. Viktor stood at the wheel, tight-lipped. The remainder of the bridge was empty. “We’ll get her back.” Daide crossed to where Viktor was.

He turned anguished green eyes on Daide. “I need her back, even if it’s in wolf form. I’ll figure out how to come to terms with it.”

“Maybe Ceridwen can break the enchantment.” Daide aimed for hopeful. Aura had said it wasn’t possible, but magic seemed like a fluid entity, one which could be bent to suit the user’s needs.

Viktor looked away. “If my bondmate is correct, and I have no reason to believe it’s not, severing the current arrangement will also break her bond with her wolf.”

“Even if it’s true, why can’t they simply re-bond?”

“I wish to hell I knew more. I’m so new to this, I still understand more about being a Vampire than I do being a Shifter.”

“Funny, or maybe not, but I was thinking the same thing.” Daide dropped a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “Hang onto hope, amigo. Not because it’s all that’s left, but because you truly believe things will work out. Are you coming ashore?”

Viktor nodded. “Yeah. A couple of the McMurdo folk will be here shortly to watch over the ship.”

“See you on the Zodiac.”

Viktor’s mouth twisted into a bitter expression, as if he’d bitten into something sour. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

“De nada. You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah, but it’s my job.”

Daide moved until he stood right in front of Viktor. “Maybe so, but you’d also do it because you care.” Without waiting for Viktor to contradict him, Daide sprinted out the side door, the one leading to the warren of outdoor stairways.

Rain pelted him, and he pulled his hood up again. He needed to sit down with Karin, ask her point-blank about Leif and if she was having second thoughts. When he replayed their intimate moments, he didn’t see how she could be, though. Their lovemaking had grown progressively more ardent as they’d become more familiar with one another’s bodies.

Thinking about her, the muscled planes of her body with softness in all the right places, created a familiar ache in his groin. He craved her. Having her hadn’t made the slightest dent in his desire. If anything, it was sharper and more urgent than it had been before he’d tasted and touched and plumbed her.

He pushed the sexual heat aside, and his worries along with it. He’d need all his faculties front and center once they landed on Malaita’s beaches. Who the hell knew what they’d find. Humans might be out for blood. And it was a sure bet they’d find others with magic, otherwise Ceridwen would have denied their existence and been done with things.

He pushed his shoulders back and closed his jaws with a snap. Would the unknown magic-wielders be friend or foe? If his past experiences were any bellwether, he voted for the foe category and hoped against hope there wouldn’t be any Vampires. Killing the master Vamp back in Invercargill should have been the end of them, but, according to Karin, none of the old rules applied in a post-Cataclysm world.

His reflections galvanized him into ducking back inside the ship and grabbing both rifles and the iron saber from their third-deck locker. He scrabbled for shells, filling his pockets, and hustled to the gangway. Juan was already at the bottom with the Zodiac, and it was filling quickly.

Awkward with the three weapons, he made his way down the wobbly gangway steps. Juan nodded his approval and extended a hand to take first the rifles and then the saber. “Thanks. You saved one of us a trip back inside. Thought about these while I was moving the raft into position.”

“They were an afterthought for me as well,” Daide said. Stepping into the raft, he settled in its bottom since the pontoons were crowded with bodies.

“The sea Shifters left a few minutes ago,” Karin informed him. “If there’s trouble, they’ll let us know.”

“Are you expecting things to blow up in our faces immediately?” Recco asked. He sat next to Zoe in the craft’s stern.

“Nay. ’Tis never so convenient as all that,” Zoe replied. “Ceridwen will want us well inland—where retreat to the beach will take time and planning—afore she springs any mischief.”

“Am I the last?” Daide asked.

“Yup.” Juan opened the throttle and eased the raft away from the ship. “If we’re expecting trouble—and it appears we’re at least apprehensive enough for it to be a discussion point—perhaps a few of us should remain with the raft.”

“What were the humans from Arkady planning?” Zoe asked.

“Vik is bringing them in a second raft,” Juan said. “It’s why we didn’t need to wait for him.”

“We should leave them one of the weapons,” Daide said.

“Good idea. I’ll let Vik know.” Juan pulled a radio out of an inner pocket.

Daide hoped it was a weatherproof model since the rain had done nothing but grow worse.

After a terse exchange, Juan dropped the radio back inside his coat. “You all heard that. They’re about ten minutes behind us, and we’re going to wait for them and hand off the Remington and shells. You did bring shells?” He aimed his question at Daide.

“Of course. Do we have a plan once we land?”

“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” Aura said. “Since we’re here at Ceridwen’s summons, I say we wait for her rather than slogging through wet jungle tracking her with magic.”

“What if she doesn’t show up?” Juan asked.

“The chances of that are zero,” Karin replied, sounding grim. “So far, it’s all quiet from Leif. I’ve been expecting to hear from him. I’m sure they’ve shifted by now, and—” She broke off and pointed at an expanse of white sand. “Yes. There they are, milling about.”

Juan whipped a pair of binoculars from another of his many pockets and held them to his face. “Drumroll, please,” he announced. “Not much of a wait for the greeting party.”

Daide made a grab for the binoculars and adjusted them so he could see. Ceridwen strolled toward the sea Shifters, accompanied by two women who were almost as tall as she was. Where the goddess was garbed in the robe she’d worn earlier, the two other women were naked. One had dark hair, the other blonde; their tresses fell to their knees, obscuring their bodies.

“Who the hell are they?” he muttered.

“Witches, who else?” Karin sounded rattled. “It appears Ceridwen has retreated to her roots.”

“Will they know about the ones we killed?” Recco put out a hand, and Daide slapped the binoculars into them.

“Probably,” Aura replied. “Nothing for it but to let this play out. Witches are clannish. For all we know, this batch hated the crew we did away with. They’re as likely to thank us as slit our throats.”

“That was metaphorical, right?” Juan spoke up.

“Not really. They fight dirty. The trick to dealing with them is to strike fast and hard.” Aura narrowed her eyes. “If they were a threat, we’d have heard from Leif and the other sea Shifters.”

“Maybe, or they might be playing along so as not to alert Ceridwen. She’d intercept any type of telepathic communication.” Karin’s words were as warm as a death knell.

“Let’s get this over with,” Juan said, mirroring Daide’s thoughts.

It was always easier to face something than worry about it, and he cleared his thoughts so he’d be ready for whatever the Witch-goddess threw their way.