Dragos Takes a Holiday (Elder Races #6.5)(21)

The vast, tangled mass of land magic that made up the Bermuda Triangle lay to the west. He considered it without much curiosity. A few of the crossover passageways came in quite close to land, but passageways in the ocean were easy to avoid. All he had to do was fly high enough overhead.

He grew hungry, dove for fish and ate while he flew.

He covered more than a hundred miles in an hour. Within a few hours, he grew convinced that the Sebille had not foundered anywhere near the edge of the shallow reefs bordering the islands, and he headed farther out in a wider circle.

Dragos? Pia said.

Like every other Wyr, her telepathic range was quite limited, but Dragos’s telepathic range was much larger than the average Wyr’s, and he heard her quite clearly.

Yes? he replied. Are you having a good morning?

We’re certainly having an interesting morning. How about you?

I’m having a great time, he told her. It’s beautiful out here.

Her mental voice warmed. I’m so glad.

He banked and wheeled toward the east to start another circuit. Did you find out anything at the museum?

Yes, we actually found out quite a bit more than we expected. Her voice sounded a little odd.

He cocked his head. Tell me.

Apparently the Sebille was sighted off the north shore in a big storm, and then it disappeared again. At least that’s what the curator told us was in old records before she destroyed them.

His interest quickened. If the Sebille was sighted off the north shore, he could try narrowing his search area down by doing some calculations of the currents. He left the area he had been searching, whirled in a big circle and began to follow the ocean’s current north of the island. Why did she destroy them?

Because there’s a group of men who have been searching for the wreck for a long time, and they don’t take kindly to competition, Pia told him. They’ve been scaring off anybody who goes looking for it. The curator said the treasure hunters’ boats sink or disappear, and somebody always got hurt, so she finally destroyed the records. She said their leader is a big Light Fae male, and he’s not a nice man.

Dragos did not bother to snort. He was not a nice man either.

He said thoughtfully, A big Light Fae male?

Yes, and when we got to the museum, there was a man hanging around the building. He left as soon as we arrived. She paused. He had been inside the museum before we got there, and he wanted to know if anybody had been in asking about the Sebille.

Was it one of the men from the bar? His thoughts turned dark and murderous.

I don’t know, but it might have been. Who else would have known that someone would be showing up at the museum this morning? You and I talked about it last night.

I remember, he said. What are you doing now?

We’re going back to the house, she told him. I want to feed the peanut and put him down for a nap.

Okay, let me know when you get there. I’ll be back soon.

Don’t hurry back for our sake, okay? We’re not going to let some pissant local thug ruin our vacation. Eva and Hugh are on alert. We’re fine.

All right, he told her. I’ll still be back soon.

In a matter of minutes he had followed the current past the last of the islands and out to deep sea. Then he continued straight over deeper water.

Almost five miles out from the island, he felt a faint tickle of magic from below. He wheeled around the area.

A moment later, Pia spoke again. We’re back at the house, and Eva and Hugh have thoroughly searched the whole property. Everything is peaceful. Nothing is out of place, and there aren’t any strange scents.

Okay, good, he replied. I followed the current that wraps around the north shore, and I’m about five miles out from land. I found something. I’m going to dive.

That’s fantastic! Good luck!

He folded his wings and plunged headfirst into the waves. This far out, the water was quite cold. He found it pleasantly bracing. He burrowed down, past where the sunlight penetrated, into frigid darkness.

The pressure increased, and he knew he had dived deeper than most creatures could have survived without protection gear. Soon he had passed the limit of most manned submersibles.

Except for submarine canyons, most of Earth’s ocean floors were no deeper than six thousand meters. Still, that was almost 3.75 miles. Aside from the strange marina life that was bred to survive on the ocean floor, very few creatures could survive reaching such depths. The mysterious, powerful kraken could, and so could Dragos, but only for brief periods of time.

To conserve his energy, he swam in complete darkness, following the spark of magic blind, until he sensed that he had gotten close. Then he threw a simple spell and brought light to the dense water.

The light spell illuminated the area roughly twenty-five feet around him in a strange bluish green. The pressure was so intense, he felt like he was digging his way through the water, not swimming. He pushed farther downward, until the light touched on the greenish ocean floor. His lungs had started to burn. He wouldn’t be able to stay for much longer.

He kicked his way along the ocean floor, still searching mostly by his magic sense. A few crustaceans scuttled away from the light.

When the wreck came into view, it did so all at once. It sprawled along the ocean floor with the supporting planks of the hull exposed like the rib cage of a dead animal.

By now, Dragos’s lungs were on fire, but he was unable to pull away. This close, he could tell there were multiple sparks of magic coming from inside the hull. He kicked along the length of the wreck, searching as quickly as he could for some kind of identification. Going by the size and shape of the ruins, it had been a caravel ship, which placed it in the right historical era. The wreck was as long as he was if he included his tail, roughly forty feet in length.