Dawnkeepers

be able to get through.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He held out a hand, kindling a small fireball. “The airhole would be a structural weak spot, right?”

“You want us to blast our way out?”

“Would you rather stay here?”

“Hell, no.” Wary hope kindling in her chest, Alexis pushed herself to her feet and crossed to him.

As she approached, he let the fireball wink out. She stopped very close to him and looked up into his eyes, which were dark in the fading flashlight beam. “We’re betting on there being some air left.”

“You see a better option?” he asked, his words a soft touch of breath on her upturned face.

She shook her head. “No. I definitely think we should try it, but I was wondering . . . what about a barrier spell?”

“To protect us after we let rip with the fireballs? Definitely.”

“Well, that. But I was thinking more along the lines of casting one all the way around our bodies and seeing if it acts like a dry suit, keeping the water away from us and trapping a layer of air. It’d have to be a thin layer so we still fit through the tunnel, but it might hold enough oxygen to buy us time.” Grim logic said they’d be out of air when they reached the cavern. If the space was completely submerged, they wouldn’t even have a chance to try the underwater-fireballing theory.

“A shield like that would be a power drain,” Nate said, but it was more of a comment than a real argument. He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

They descended the short staircase side by side, and Nate kept a protective hand on the small of her back. Alexis wanted to lean into the touch, into the man, but she didn’t because it wasn’t the right time. She did, however, make an inner vow: If we get out of here, I’m going to show him that I cared—

and I still care—about him as a man, not just a mage or a mate.

As if she’d spoken the thought aloud, he stopped and turned at the bottom of the stairs, and took her hand in his so their sacrificial scars lined up like a promise. Then he leaned in and touched his lips to hers. “For luck.”

“For luck,” she whispered when he drew back.

He palmed his ceremonial knife from his weapons belt, which had been damaged in the quake maelstrom, and cut his palm, then offered her the knife because she’d lost her belt altogether. She cut a groove along the raised ridge of flesh, welcoming the bite of pain because it meant that she was still alive, still fighting. Then she handed the knife back, and they both jacked in and called on their warriors’ shield magic.

Alexis’s shield appeared in a flash of color and a brilliant burst of power from the base of her skull.

Nate stumbled back in surprise, and would’ve fallen into the water if she hadn’t reached out and grabbed him. When they touched, the rainbow spread from her to him and back, and the shield spell strengthened far beyond where she’d been able to get it previously. Thank you, goddess, she thought, relieved by the help, and by the evidence that Ixchel hadn’t deserted her entirely.

Sending her consciousness into the magic, Alexis shaped it around her body, then around Nate’s, leaving a three-inch space between the shield and his skin, weaving the protective magic into a different form than it normally held, one with texture and flexibility. Soon their bodies were surrounded with a pulsating glow that was all colors and none of them at once, buoying Alexis with magic and light. But alongside the thrill of power was the knowledge that this was a one-shot deal, and they didn’t have a plan B. Please, gods, help us, she thought, aiming the prayer toward the back of her skull.

Then she nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

They dropped into the water together, submerged together, and stared into each other’s eyes as they each took a breath inside their force-field dry suits. Alexis had to make herself inhale, as her eyes were telling her brain that she was completely underwater. But when she breathed, she got a lungful of the old, stale air trapped within the skin-shield. It would have to be enough.

Knowing they were already running out of time before they even began, they turned and kicked for the tunnel, moving fast. Nate pulled ahead, and Alexis cursed inwardly when that meant she had to fight the turbulence from his powerful kicks. Then she moved up and found a slipstream of sorts, and the going got easier. They flashed along the wider, smoother tunnel, then turned into the narrow half loop, which was dark and claustrophobic in comparison. The flashlight must’ve died for good, because Nate let it fall as he swam, and Alexis felt a jump in the barrier flow as he jacked in another level deeper and called up a fireball. The light kindled to life up ahead, boiling the water around it and sending a cloud of steam bubbles back along the tunnel. They popped when they hit the edges of Alexis’s shield spell. For a moment she wondered whether they might help freshen the increasingly stale air inside her protective layer. They didn’t, though, killing her quick thought of somehow using fireballs to boil water and generate an air pocket. It might be possible in theory, but they didn’t have time to figure out the trick.

Then Nate’s trajectory suddenly changed and he was shooting up and away. Alexis had half a second to think that the trip out had been so much faster than the one in; then she was following him and trying not to put too much stock into the hope that there would be air left up above.

When she saw his fire magic glitter off the interface between water and air, she started crying with relief.

The second her head broke the surface, she let go of the shield magic, gasping as the water rushed in on her, soaking her and chilling her in a slap that proved more invigorating than uncomfortable.

Treading to keep her head in the air pocket, she squinted against the red burn of Nightkeeper fire. The situation wasn’t good; their heads were nearly touching the carved ceiling of the long, narrow temple room, and water was still coming in from the cracked place right near where the dragon’s snout touched the rainbow in the overhead mural.

Wait a second, she thought. What? She was positive the carved entities hadn’t been touching before; they’d been several feet away from the crack. She blinked and looked again, but the carvings didn’t change. The images of Ixchel and Kulkulkan were touching each other, pointing to the crack. She was positive they’d moved somehow, but why?

Then she remembered the torches from her vision, and how the smoke had moved to a narrow fissure in the wall, halfway down the long side.

“That’s it,” she said, suddenly understanding. She pointed to the crack where the water was flowing in. “That’s where we need to hit the wall. It’s the weak spot.”

Nate looked seriously dubious. “Sure, it’s a weak spot, but there’s nothing to indicate that there’s air on the other side. The water could be coming from a fully submerged tunnel.” But he swam to the spot and put his face near the crack, trying to hear or feel some sort of breeze that might suggest the air was going out the same way the water was coming in. After a long moment he shook his head. “I don’t know. I think we should keep looking.”

The top of Alexis’s head nudged the ceiling as the water continued to rise. She tilted her chin up so she could breathe, and said, “Trust me. That’s the spot.”

His eyes bored into her, and for a second she thought he was going to refuse. In the end, though, he nodded. “If you’re sure.” He didn’t ask how or why she knew; she had a feeling he didn’t want to know. He swam toward her. “Let’s get in the corner over by the throne. Remember, put your shield up right after we launch.”

“Count on it.”

Lit by his low-grade fireball, they swam to the short end of the room, where they found that they could stand on the altar itself and keep above water—for the moment, anyway. The window of opportunity was closing fast. In order to both stand on the throne they had to crowd close together, her back to his front, in a position that fit too well as far as Alexis was concerned, one that felt safe and sane, and revved her nerves, not just at what they were about to attempt, but also what she’d vowed to do if they made it out of there alive: try once more, this time letting him know that she wanted him for who he was, not just for the power they could make together.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice a low growl, his lips very near her ear.

“One more thing,” she said quickly, as the water rose to her mouth. “When you shield, try to take as much of the air around your head as you can. Just in case.”

He nodded. “Will do.”