Page 55 of Jewel of the Sea

The door slid open, and Arkon entered. He was mentally mapping what he could fit into the various container shapes and sizes when he looked up and stopped again.

Dracchus was beside the pool, powerful arms folded across his broad chest. He glanced at Arkon, creased his brow, and looked back down at the water.

“I do not understand this, Arkon. What is it meant to be?”

Jaw agape, Arkon could do nothing but stare for several seconds. Dracchus was the last person he might have expected to find here, studying the patterns Arkon had created on the bottom of the pool.

“It is...well... I think that... It is meant to be whatever youfeelit is, Dracchus.”

“But what is it toyou?”

Arkon moved beside Dracchus and turned his attention to the design. Its creation seemed so long ago, now, it may as well have been the work of a stranger.

“To me, it is...motion.”

Dracchus grunted.

After many seconds of increasingly awkward silence, Arkon backed away and went to the empty containers stacked along the wall.

“There is a strange scent upon you, Arkon.”

Arkon paused in the middle of reaching for one of the large chests. “I...have been to a few new locations recently.”

“Overnight?”

“I was caught up. Searching. For stones. I’ve only come for a container to bring some back here.”

When Arkon glanced over his shoulder, Dracchus was facing him fully. The confusion that had been on the big kraken’s face a moment before was gone, replaced by open suspicion.

“You are distracted,” Dracchus said, moving closer, “but not as you normally are. What are you hiding, Arkon?”

Arkon looked back at the chest, grasped the handles on its sides, and lifted it from the stack. “Nothing.”

He turned and carried the container toward the door.

Dracchus imposed himself in Arkon’s path, tipped his chin down, and flared his nostrils. “That is the scent of a human.”

“I visited Macy when—”

“You are still wet, Arkon. You just entered the Facility. And that is not Macy’s scent.”

Arkon envisioned one of the clocks that were in all the cabins — seconds ticking by, tumbling into the past one after another, each representing a bit longer that Aymee spent alone with her guilt in an unfamiliar place.

“And I am just leaving. If you would—”

“Arkon.”

The potential paths the situation could take flowed through Arkon’s mind in rapid succession over the course of an instant. He was faster and more agile than Dracchus, but he wasn’t likely to outmaneuver the larger kraken in such close quarters. Even if he did, what would it accomplish? There was always the possibility of a challenge, but that would attract the attention of more kraken, and Arkon wanted only to obtain what he needed and leave. Besides, Dracchus had given up challenging Arkon long ago. Would he even be interested now?

Yes, of course he would be. When Dracchus had suspected Jax of treachery, he’d questioned Arkon tirelessly and had even followed him into unfamiliar waters to determine whether his suspicions were justified.

“I am gathering supplies for Aymee. I am sheltering her in the place Jax calls the Broken Cavern — the place you followed me to when you attacked Macy.”

“Aymee? The woman you spoke to on the beach?”

“Yes.”

Dracchus’s brows fell, and his frown — which seemed to be his default expression — deepened. “You have her in your keeping?”

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