Castle Kidnapped

Thirteen Castle (?), Then Island

“Sheila!”

“Trent? Over here!”

They found each other in the dark and hugged. Trent held her close.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. What happened? Where did he —?”

“It was a trap, and I’m afraid we fell right into it.”

There came a scraping, rumbling sound, then a thud.

“What’s going on?” Sheila said fearfully.

“I don’t kn —”

Suddenly the bottom fell out of everything, and they dropped through space.

Then sunlight exploded around them, and they hit water.

Deep in green underwater silence, Sheila floated through a cloud of bubbles, fire searing her lungs. Disoriented, she didn’t know which way to swim, which way the surface was. Finally she saw the sun and began to flail upward. The surface seemed hundreds of feet above. She knew she couldn’t hold her breath that long. Panic welled up inside her.

A hand grasped her arm and buoyed her upward.

She broke the surface, gasping, choking. Trent treaded water beside her.

“You okay?” he shouted.

She could only nod. She looked around. Sea, endless blue-green sea, its waters sickly warm.

“Where are we?” she yelled.

“Anybody’s guess. Some wild universe. One with no magic, either. Damn.”

“I didn’t even think of using magic. Everything happened so fast.”

“Exactly. Whoever set us up knew what they were doing.”

“But … Trent, you didn’t have to come through the portal. You shouldn’t have!”

“Too late for shouldn’t-haves, my dear.” Trent boosted himself out of the water, sank, then came back up with more velocity, rising waist-high until he sank once again.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to see above the swells. I think there’s land in that direction. It’s a ways off, though. You a strong swimmer?”

“My God, no. I feel like a lead weight.”

“Drop your shoes and strip to your underwear. Quick.”

Sheila did as she was told. Undressed, she felt ten times more buoyant.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Easy now, don’t tire yourself. If you get fagged out, roll over and backstroke.”

They struck out sunward, cautiously dog-paddling. The swells were gentle but high, and at the crest of one particularly elevated wave, Sheila could see a thin strip of green on the horizon. It looked miles away.

“We’ll never make it,” she groaned.

“Yes, we will. Steady now. Even out your strokes.”

They swam on for what seemed like hours. The water got even warmer. It made Sheila feel her fatigue more. They rested periodically, treading water.

“We’d better get going,” Trent said.

Sheila found that she could float on her back and give her legs a rest. “I really need to stop.”

“I know, but there’s something swimming around us and it looks interested.”

Sheila straightened up and searched.

“There,” Trent said, pointing.

She could see it now, a wickedly sharp fin cutting the water. Its path took it in a slow circle about them.

“Trent, I don’t like this.”

“We’ll have to swim faster, Sheila. Can you do it?”

“Yes.”

“The island is just another half mile or so. Or two or three. Come on.”

They swam. The fin altered its trajectory and closed, its manner still more curious than menacing. Then another fin broke water and came abreast of the first. More followed.

“Seems we’re becoming quite an attraction,” Trent said calmly.

“Free lunch,” Sheila said, amazed that she was capable of gallows humor.

“Got any magic yet, Sheila?”

In the last hour or so, she had been testing for magic in what seemed like an unconnected compartment of her mind, insulated from the fear and the panic. The supernatural elements of this world were very strange, and she didn’t know if she could make any sense of them. She sensed vague fields of force, subtle influences, but nothing she could put her finger on.

“Not really.”

“They’re getting closer. Can you get up any more speed?”

Sheila’s arms felt like lead. “No.”

“Then I’m afraid we’re going to have to face them.”

Trent stopped swimming and reached out for her. He enveloped her in his arms, and she went limp, surrendering to the fatigue. She felt like she could never move again.

A huge gray form came in from the seaward side, its path still indirect, still exploratory.

“Trent, we’re going to die,” she said.

“Kiss me, Sheila.”

They embraced in the water, her legs wrapped around him, her tongue finding his.

Something nudged her in the back, and she didn’t care.

Trent looked over her shoulder. He said, “I think …”

“Darling,” she breathed.

“Dolphins.”

“Dolphins?”

“Or a reasonable facsimile.”

Sheila reached out and touched the rough skin of the thing. It was warm and resilient, like rubber. Another animal approached, and Trent grabbed its dorsal fin. The creature seemed to have no objection.

A head broke water in front of Sheila. It was the head of no dolphin or porpoise she had ever seen. The snout was blunt and wrinkled, and the eyes caninelike, large and intelligent. Sharp teeth protruded from the mouth. The animal was more like a seal or walrus than anything else, but sleeker, more streamlined, and the body more fishlike. In that respect it resembled a dolphin.

Trent’s animal suddenly bolted shoreward. Trent hung on for the ride momentarily, then let go. He wound up a good distance from Sheila.

“I think they want to escort us in!” Trent yelled.

Sheila stroked the dolphinoid’s bulbous head. The animal seemed to like this. Then it swung about and rolled its body slightly toward her, as if offering its dorsal fin as a handgrip. Sheila grabbed on with both hands.

Suddenly she was rocketing through the water, the force of the flow making it difficult to maintain her grip. But she did.

In no time the shore drew near. Reaching the outer edge of the surf, the animal turned back toward the open sea, and she let go.

She rode a wave in, then another. Finally her feet touched bottom, and she waded into the beach.

She collapsed, wet sand against her face, the sound of breakers washing her in and out of consciousness. The cry of a gull came; then, after an indeterminate time, footsteps at her back.

“Sheila?”

She turned and saw Trent’s smiling face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, Trent.”

“Sorry if what went on out there was just a paroxysm in the face of imminent death.”

She touched her body and found that she was naked before his gaze. She smiled up at him, holding out her arms. “Trent, darling.”

“Sheila.”