“I was thinking when I woke up,” Sarita announced.
“Okay,” Domitian said warily and waited.
“Well, we have no idea where we are and no clue what direction to go in to get to the mainland,” she pointed out. “And the ocean is full of sharks and whales and other unfriendlies.”
“Unfriendlies?” he asked with amusement.
Sarita shrugged, “I just didn’t want to say creatures that want to eat us,” she admitted with a crooked smile. “Anyway, the point is I got thinking that maybe we need a raft, and maybe there’d be something in one of the books in the office that could help with this escape of ours, so I went and took a look. There wasn’t really,” she added quickly. “I mean the closest thing I found to useful was Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe. But—”
“Sarita,” he interrupted gently. “It will be fine. We may not know where we are, but it has to be north of Venezuela, so if we go south we will find the mainland.”
“Yeah, but we have no idea which way is north and which way south,” she said at once.
Domitian raised an arm and pointed toward the front of the house and the dock. “That way is south.”
She blinked, glanced in the direction he was pointing and then turned back to him and raised her eyebrows in question.
“I am more than two thousand years old, mi Corazon. I learned long ago how to navigate by the stars.”
“Oh.” Sarita looked nonplussed, and then glanced toward the beach again, but followed that by turning to peer toward the jungle behind the house. “So north would be that way.”
“Si,” he agreed patiently.
“Okay, well see, that’s good to know, because the big island is north of this island,” she announced.
Domitian stiffened. “I thought you did not know where this island was? Yesterday you thought we might be on the big island.”
“I found a letter,” Sarita said, suddenly practically bursting with excitement. “It was from Mrs. Dressler to a friend of hers back in England, and she was saying that they were living on this island but building a new bigger home on an island not far from here. Half an hour by one of those little fishing boats with an outboard motor. Well, half an hour when Dr. Dressler piloted it, but forty-five minutes when she did,” she corrected herself. “Elizabeth Dressler said she was nervous about driving it there on her own, but he marked the compass at a point between twenty and thirty degrees north and said to keep the boat heading that way and she would reach the island.”
“That is good news, mi Corazon,” Domitian said smiling at her widely. “It means when we get to the mainland, we can tell my uncle where the island is.”
Sarita frowned at him. “Yeah, but I was thinking . . .”
“What were you thinking?” he asked, wary again.
“Look, I don’t especially want to go to the island, but—”
“No,” Domitian interrupted firmly. “I am not taking you anywhere near that island. The idea is to get you as far from Dressler as possible, not to deliver you and myself into his arms.”
“I know,” Sarita said with understanding. “But just listen to me. I was awake for the helicopter ride to the island and it was quite a long ride. Unfortunately, I didn’t check my watch when we left and arrived, but I’m guessing it was a good hour, and the helicopter wasn’t puttering along like a fishing boat, it was going really fast. I don’t think we can make it to the mainland.”
“I can swim for a very long time,” he assured her.
“Pulling me?” she asked. “Because I suspect you’ll have to. At least part of the way. I can swim, but not all night and day. And that’s the other thing,” Sarita added. “What if it does take twenty-four hours or something to get there? You’re the one who said five hundred miles was your uncle’s conservative estimate of where the island might be. You aren’t swimming that far in a night. We’ll be swimming during daylight too, without blood for you to top up on. I don’t particularly want to be a walking blood bank.”
Domitian frowned. “We do not have to make it to the mainland. I am sure we will encounter another island—”
“What if we don’t?” Sarita asked. “And what if we are attacked by a shark? What if you’re injured?”
He was more concerned about her being injured by a shark, but before he could say so, she added, “Without blood to help you heal, you might be more dangerous to me than a shark.”
Domitian opened his mouth to assure her he would never harm her, but paused as he realized he couldn’t make that promise. If he were badly injured in a shark attack . . . Well, immortals had been known to lose their heads and attack mortals in that state. The nanos could cause terrible agony and a blood lust when they needed blood. Sarita might be right. He could be more dangerous to her than a shark in that case.
“And then there’s my grandmother,” she said now.
Domitian focused on her with confusion. “Your grandmother is on the mainland.”
“Do you really believe that?” Sarita asked dryly. “Think about it. Dressler wanted us both here for some reason, and he is the one who called and told me that my grandmother needed me. What are the chances that she just happened to fall down the stairs and hurt herself at the exact time when he apparently wanted us here? Hmm?”
Domitian shook his head. That hadn’t occurred to him. “But you said she wasn’t on the island. We thought perhaps they live on the mainland in the apartment and use the island house as a cottage.”
“I said there was no sign that she lived in the big house,” Sarita said firmly. “But I was thinking about Grandmother’s letters, and according to everything she’s ever written me, she definitely lives on the island with Mrs. Dressler and her son year round. I’m pretty sure Dressler is the only one who stays in that apartment in town. They have to be in the little house. There is nowhere else that they could be.”
“Okay,” he said reassuringly. “We will give that news to my uncle and they can be sure to—Why are you shaking your head?” he interrupted himself to ask, but suspected he already knew why.
“I am not going to the mainland,” she announced, proving he had known why after all. “I don’t think we’ll make it if we head that way. And I’m not leaving my grandmother stuck out there on that island with Dr. Demento while I follow you to my death in the middle of the ocean.”
“Sarita,” Domitian said patiently.
“I’m not,” she said firmly. “But I won’t stop you if you want to try it. Your chances are probably better without me to slow you down. You might even make it. And I’ll even tell you everything I know about the big island so you can tell your uncle.”
“And what then? You will try to make it to the big island by yourself?” he asked with disbelief, and then said grimly, “I don’t recall any of the reports I got saying you were suicidal.”
“I’m not,” she assured him. “And while I’m not a marathon swimmer, I did take lessons as a kid, and I’m a good floater. I can swim, then float for a while to rest, then swim again.”
“Sarita,” he said, running a hand wearily through his wet hair.
“It’s closer than the mainland,” she pointed out firmly. “I know I can’t make the mainland, but the island is closer. I’m sure I can manage getting there, and I don’t even have to build a raft. There are some blow-up lounge mattresses in one of the wicker chests that will do for a shorter journey.”
Domitian scowled. “I think you probably could reach the big island, but we would be swimming directly into Dressler’s waiting arms.”
“We?” she asked.
“Well, I am not letting you swim anywhere on your own. There are sharks out there,” he said gruffly.
Sarita smiled widely, but then responded to his comment about swimming directly into Dressler’s arms. “El Doctor and his men will be watching for boats, not someone swimming to the island.”
Domitian considered that.