Stars of Fortune (The Guardians Trilogy, #1)(54)

Riley hesitated, then glanced over at Doyle as he checked over the equipment in the wheelhouse. “Can you handle it?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’ll give you the bearings. That way I can go over the equipment and basics with the novices.”

“Meaning me,” Sasha said. “Shouldn’t someone stay with the boat? I could stay with the boat.”

“That’s what anchors and buoys are for. You’ve dived?” Riley asked Bran.

“A few times, yes.”

“And you?”

Sawyer nodded. “More than a few.”

“I know this,” Annika put in before Riley asked.

“Okay, grab wetsuits, and I’ll get us going.” She walked to the wheelhouse.

Sasha might have been full of doubts, but she reassured herself. She was a good swimmer, a strong swimmer, so if worse came to worst . . .

She stripped down to her bathing suit—a simple black tank, and a far cry from Annika’s microscopic bikini—and busied herself slithering and tugging herself into a wetsuit while Doyle eased the boat out of its slip.

“It’s fun,” Sawyer told her as he zipped up his own. “A whole new experience.”

“It feels like I’ve been having whole new experiences daily since I got to Corfu.”

He grinned, turned to the tanks to check them. “That’s what makes it fun.”

When she saw him lift a harpoon, examine it, she thought he—all of them—had to prepare for more than fun.

“Okay.” Riley walked back on deck, opened the top of a long, low bench. “First dive site’s only a few minutes away. Masks, regulators, belts. We’ll go over all of it,” she promised Sasha. “Captain Bligh up there’s not too happy about it, but we’re going to start with a nice, easy dive. We’re not likely to find a flaming star waiting for us, but it’ll give everybody a chance to—har-har—get their feet wet. Visibility should be good, so let’s everybody stay together-ish—stay in sight. Standard buddy system.”

“I’ve got her, Riley.” Bran took his own dive knife out of his bag. “She’ll stop being nervous once she’s in the water.”

“Will I?”

“Trust me.”

“Let’s go over the gear.” Riley picked up a thick vest. “Your buoyancy control device—BCD. This will hold your tank, and help you maintain neutral buoyancy. That’s the goal. On the surface, you tend to float, so this, being weighted, will help your descent. The deeper you go, the less buoyancy, so it will regulate. You want the science?”

“I think no.”

“You’ve got clips here for accessories and necessities. Regulator gauge, depth gauge, knife. You want to keep everything clipped off and tucked.”

Riley started talking about drag, swimming “trim,” breathing techniques. All of it spun around in Sasha’s head as she stood and the various equipment being explained was attached to or loaded on her.

Doyle cut the engine far too soon.

“Let’s keep it at about thirty minutes, see how it goes.”

“A half hour? Down there?”

“It’ll go quicker than you imagine,” Bran told her as he competently saw to his own gear.

Doyle weighed anchor; Riley tossed out the marker buoy.

“The cave’s due east.” She pointed toward the cliff face. “Sawyer, why don’t you and Annika go in, then Sasha can follow with Bran. Doyle and I should be right behind you. Just take a couple minutes to get used to it,” she told Sasha, and strapped on a BCD.

Sawyer put on his mask, his mouthpiece, and sitting on the side, gave a thumbs-up before rolling backward into the water.

Sasha had time to think—Oh, my God—before Annika laughed, then mimicked Sawyer.

“You can go in feetfirst if you’d rather,” Bran began.

“Ladder on the port side,” Doyle said as he zipped his wetsuit.

“Why don’t I help you down that way?”

Help her, Sasha thought. Watch her, look out for her.

The hell with it.

She clomped over to the side in her fins, boosted herself up.

“Hold your mask in place with one hand. Just roll out.” Bran gave her leg an easy pat. “I’m two seconds after you.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Sasha shut her eyes and let herself roll back.

It was a longer drop than she’d anticipated. When she hit the water, she let out a short scream, sucked in too much air. She started to kick back to the surface, but Bran was there, taking her hand.

He made a slow, downward movement with his free hand, clearly signaling her to slow down, relax. Though she wanted to go up, go up into light and air, he pointed down, and drew her with him.

Panic tickled at her throat, brought on an odd dizziness. She knew she was breathing too fast—exactly what Riley warned not to do—but couldn’t seem to control it.

Then she saw Annika through the impossibly clear water, doing fluid somersaults with the sunlight cutting through the surface to spotlight her.

Oh, to be that free, she thought, then realized she was—or could be. Nothing held her back but her own fears. Maybe she wasn’t ready for somersaults, but that didn’t mean she had to give up.