Free Oceanborne by Katherine Irons Page A

always been fond of dolphins, and she’d swum with them in the Caribbean. This one was large, over five hundred pounds if she was an ounce, with a network of scars etched into her head and back. The dolphin stared at her curiously before approaching and nudging her with its nose.
    â€œAre you tired?” Orion asked. “Would you prefer to ride?” He tapped the dolphin’s nose several times before swinging up on its back. “Come on,” he said. “It’s all right. Her name is Nohea, and she’s very tame. She won’t hurt you.” He offered his hand.
    It was a dream, and in a dream she could ride a dolphin. In fact, riding a dolphin was a secret wish she’d always harbored. She clasped Orion’s strong fingers, and in an instant she was up in front of him and clinging to the big mammal’s fin. Almost at once, they were flying through the water, through curtains of kelp and past pillars of stone. Fish and sharks and octopi loomed up and flashed past. The dolphin’s skin was smooth and warm and soft. So fast did Nohea swim that Elena was certain she’d fall off, but Orion held her tightly around the waist, his strong body pressed against hers.
    She had thought that the depths of the sea must be dark, but not in her dream. Iridescent lights glowed around her: blue and pink and green. The water felt like silk against her skin. Never had she felt so weightless, so free.
    The dolphin was swimming toward the surface, or perhaps the water was becoming shallower, because Elena was certain they passed directly under the hull of a large ship. Fish were smaller here and quicker, darting away almost before she could identify them.
    â€œWhere are we—” she began, but Orion cut her off by leaning close and whispering in her ear.
    â€œGood-bye, Elena. Forget me. Forget all this.”
    â€œBut I don’t want to—”
    In a burst of energy, the dolphin rose and leaped out of the sea. Elena saw the beauty of the night, no longer shrouded in clouds but star studded and moonlit. She felt the salt wind on her cheeks and then an all-encompassing blackness.
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    The boat was rocking gently on the waves. Elena sighed and turned, shielding her eyes from the rising sun. She was sleepy, so sleepy, and the motion of the sea soothed her like the rocking of a cradle. She gave in to the weariness again, and the next time she woke, the sun was high over the horizon, its rays warm against her face and exposed skin.
    Elena sat up and looked around. The small wooden dory was anchored to a post driven into the sea, and to her right, no more than a short distance lay a harbor. People walked on the beach, going about their normal day-to-day activities. Two men were stretching a large net to dry in the sun while another smeared pitch on the hull of an overturned boat. She recognized the town, a small fishing village a few miles from her expedition headquarters. But how had she gotten here?
    She began to feel her head, her arms, her legs. She wasn’t in pain, but why were her memories so confused? There was a strong breeze but no storm, no choppy surf. And how had she gotten into this fishing boat? She didn’t think she’d been drinking. If she’d tied one on, she’d have a hangover, wouldn’t she?
    She was barefoot, and she wore the tattered remains of the clothes she’d worn when she left the harbor this morning. But, by the position of the sun, it couldn’t be later than ten or eleven o’clock, so this couldn’t be the same morning she’d taken the Zodiac to check the wreck site. Had she lost an entire day? Or had taking the inflatable out in bad weather been the dream? No, she decided. That was too clear in her mind. She’d definitely gone to make certain that no one was intruding on her dive site.
    She inspected the interior of the boat in an attempt to discover some clue to the mystery. The dory was old, obviously handmade,