intricate patterns in the azure fabric of the sea.
“Unbelievable!” Del whispered, seeing the display in an inspiring light. A week ago he might have viewed the dance as a pleasing diversion, but now his vision went much deeper. In their evolution, the dolphins had become perfectly suited for their world, the embodiment of nature’s ability to flow toward perfection. They were the flesh-and-blood music of universal law and divine order. Del wanted to share his revelation and see if the others, too, saw the true beauty of it all, but no words good enough came to him.
The ballet went on for several minutes.
Then a dolphin sat up in the water, half of its blue-gray body effortlessly still in the air a few feet in front of the raft. It stared with intelligent eyes into seven puzzled faces and began clicking and whinnying and waving its long nose frantically.
“He’s talking to us!” Billy laughed.
“Don’t be stupid!” Mitchell retorted.
But Del realized that Billy was right, and moreover, he somehow felt that he understood. He darted under the tent and tore away some of the cord that edged the canvas, quickly securing one end to the raft, then ran back up front and threw the other end toward the dolphin.
“What are you doing?” Mitchell demanded. But even before Del could respond there came a great tug and the raft started moving as several dolphins pounced on the rope and took it in tow.
“Incredible,” was all that Doc Brady managed to mutter.
“I just had a feeling,” Del said with an embarrassed shrug.
The dolphins pulled due east. On and on for hours and hours, and when those on the rope tired, they were replaced by fresher companions. Once again the men took faith in their salvation and by mid-afternoon their prayers were answered.
“Land!” Billy cried, and sure enough, edging the eastern horizon, loomed the black silhouette of distant mountains.
“Any idea where we are?” Mitchell asked.
“None,” Billy answered. “We’ve been going the wrong way for Florida. Could be Haiti.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Corbin said. The dolphins continued their incredible pace, and less than an hour later the raft was barely several hundred yards from the shoreline.
The dolphins let go of the rope and graced the men with a final dance. Perhaps it was a farewell salute, the dolphins’ way of saying good-bye; or perhaps they danced simply for the joy of it, cutting sleekly through the water and leaping in pirouette or somersault. Then, as precisely as any drill team, they formed into a line and headed back out to sea, skimming the surface in majestic flight. Del hung over the edge of the raft, calling out good-bye.
Not even Mitchell berated him.
“The tide will get us in now,” Corbin observed.
A few minutes later the raft beached onto the sand of a new world.
Chapter 6
Ynis Aielle
T HE BEACH WAS as dreary and gray as the sky above. Soggy clumps of seaweed, disgorged offal of the ocean, lined the high-tide mark as monuments of neglect. Dead fish and crabs, untended by scavengers and parasites, festered in the sand. Something was terribly wrong here. What should have been a place of revitalizing, cleansing tides offended the senses like a fetid, unmoving swamp. Nature seemingly had abandoned or had been forced from this stretch, leaving it in total decay. Yet the men were undaunted, for this land, however discouraging, was their salvation, their deliverance from the very fires of hell.
After a couple minutes of quiet thanks—none of them had even stepped out of the raft—Mitchell remembered his responsibilities. “We’ve got to find some water,” he said. “And I want to know where we are.”
“And when we are,” Reinheiser quipped. Brady’s test of the cadavers had gone exactly as the physicist had predicted, though Reinheiser and the doctor had decided to keep their findings private until the more serious problems were addressed.
But none of the others missed Reinheiser’s
Kate Sedley
Paul Reiser
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Jordan Summers