‘Depends what you throw it at, I guess,’ she murmured.
He had always thought Laure had enough money of her own. Clearly not. She wanted it all. And she wanted him out of the way.
‘Shut up,’ Laure spat. ‘Both of you. If you’d just stayed away like you were told, Dr Walker, this would have been so much simpler.’
Like she was told? When had she been told to stay away?
‘But then you wouldn’t have the mask,’ Ari said quietly. ‘What happened with Simon, Laure? What did you do?’
‘I gave him everything he needed, all Fabien’s clues. Gwen even helped, although she didn’t realise what I was doing. But you found it again, so maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re meant to be here after all. A witness. And I know how to take care of witnesses.’
‘Laure, we can talk about this, negotiate something,’ Rafael tried again, because he had to try. But she wasn’t even listening, he knew that. Her gaze had drifted over to the pool, where the water churned and frothed. It had grown wilder, as it had the night of the storm, but the light still shone through it. It glowed. ‘Ari? Is that…is that normal?’
But Ari wasn’t looking. Before he knew what she was doing, she took the mask from his unresisting grip. She ran her delicate fingers over the smooth surface and then her eyes met his.
‘Get out of here,’ she told him as she gritted her teeth. And then she put it on.
For a moment, nothing happened. Her hands released the mask, but froze, framing her face. The mask didn’t fall. It seemed to stick to her, and, as he watched in horror, tendrils worked their way out of it, wriggling against her skin and through her hair.
‘No, what have you done?’ he hissed, but Ari didn’t answer. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him, heedless now of Laure and her gun. She was still a danger, but nothing compared to this, to the unnatural madness of this.
Ari drew in a shaking breath. ‘I can hear it. Hear…voices. Jesus…Rafael, so many voices. They say Dahut is coming. Surrender to her. Give up. She wants the truth. She wants…she wants revenge.’
Her body trembled and then jerked as if something had stabbed her. The white tendrils of the mask thickened, tightened, crawled across her skin, wound around her neck.
Panic seized her. She clawed at the mask in a futile effort to pull it off. ‘No. No, please.’
Laure swore loudly, her rage drawing his attention back to her. ‘Did you think you’d save him with this futile action? You’re so stupid.’
‘Shut up, Laure,’ he roared. ‘You’ve brought us here. You’ve done this. You and your endless greed.’
The gunshot was deafening in the caves, the sound echoing and reverberating around them. The rocks above them shifted, screaming against each other, and the earth shook. Rafael ducked instinctively, trying to shield Ari even as she scrabbled at her own face, trying to tear the thing off again. Her body arched in pain against him.
Laure had missed. Maybe on purpose, maybe not. Still cursing, she came closer, the gun shaking in her hand. She wouldn’t miss again, not at this range, no matter how out of control she was.
‘Ari,’ he whispered. ‘Close your eyes. Just close your eyes.’ He turned his back on Laure, offering her more of a target but covering Ari’s trembling form. If he could just protect her…
And that’s when he saw it, rising from the pool, a swirling pillar of water.
Laure must have seen him freeze, must have followed his attention. She gave a shout of alarm and fired again, straight at the apparition, shot after shot, emptying the gun in panic. All around them, the chamber shook as if to tear itself apart, the whole cave system grinding down on it, ready to fall.
And suddenly everything went still.
A figure formed from the water, clear and pale green-blue, like sea glass. It shimmered with reflected light, a million colours swirling in the depths, resolving themselves to something tangible, a woman’s figure. It took another step, walking onto the cave floor, leaving a trail of wetness behind it, then footprints. Pearls threaded their way through her sea-foam white hair, and a string of brightly coloured shells glittered around her neck.
Her face was the last thing to take shape, but he knew it. He knew it the moment he could make it out. He had known it all his life.
‘Gwen?’ he whispered in disbelief.
Gwen smiled, that bewitching half-smile she always used when he had finally figured something out, but she didn’t acknowledge him.
Her bare feet left wet footprints behind her as she crossed the cave floor, walking towards the carving of Dahut as if it was a ritual procession. Behind her, the pool went as still as a mirror. As she passed Laure, however, she stopped and stretched out her hand. She trailed her fingers up the length of the gun and the metal changed, discolouring, corroding and then crumbling to the ground. Laure cried out and released it before Gwen could touch her hands, staggering back. Only then did she catch herself and draw her body up to her full height.
‘Gwen—My lady, my queen,’ she corrected herself. ‘I’ve brought him for you. You can have your revenge. You can take him. It’s Rafael. You always wanted him. Please, just take him.’
‘Oh, Laure,’ Gwen sighed and her voice was as soft as the lapping of waves on the cove. ‘You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?’
‘I’ve done what you wanted. I brought your mask. And my brother.’
