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The boat hit a wave. Nikolas flailed for a grip on the side and leaned too far. The leaky vessel tilted, water inside rushing toward the low side.

"No, no, no." He flung himself toward the high side—too late. The edge dipped beneath the surface. Water rushed to his knees, then his waist, and then Nikolas found himself floundering against the pull of the water as his boat disappeared beneath him, sail and all.

He sputtered in the brine and blinked water from his eyes, kicking and propelling his arms forward and back, unwillingly embracing the water that had welcomed him. The crystal blue around him bubbled like a boiling pot, then went smooth and innocent. As if it hadn't just devoured his inheritance in one burbling gulp. It wouldn't be so bad if he hadn't lost all the oranges too.

His stomach felt as though it were tied to the boat. Sinking to the depths.

His father's shipping mantra echoed in his mind. Solid advice. Though it had always seemed metaphorical. Until now. He looked down, the bottom dark blue and obscure. Why had he even bothered going back for the money? Hadn't Uncle always said wealth was the cause of greed, and sin, and destruction? Wasn't that why they'd hidden it away in the first place? To keep him from himself? Nikolas shut his eyes. Was it greed and sin that had driven him to fetch the gold? It wasn't like he was going to buy an oceanside villa with a red door and a pretty courtyard with three orange trees or anything.

A wave slapped him in the face like a reprimand. Nikolas coughed and spat. "Fine. I was tempted. But I didn't do it."

He sighed. Why had God bothered to give him wealth at all if he couldn't use it? Uncle had often spoken of ways God had unmistakably stepped in and supplied needs. Was this going to be one of those times? He hoped so, because instead of sweeping in like a hero to rescue the floundering church in Myra, he'd arrive empty-handed and in need of aid himself.

He eyed the distance to the shore. If he arrived at all.

Nikolas blew out a watery breath of surrender. "Lord, I am Your servant. I'll do what You ask, and I'll do it how You want me to."

As if in answer, a small orange orb burst from the water and fell back with a splash, bobbing in front of him. Heat seared behind his eyes. No matter how dire it looked, he was seen. Cared for.

"Thank You."

Nikolas tucked the orange down the neck of his tunic before setting his gaze ahead and angling for shore.

CHAPTER THREE

Tearing a strip from the hem of her already short swimming tunic, Demi made quick work of securing it around Theseus's arm above the eel's head. Ramming a piece of coral beneath the strip, she gave it a twist, slowing the flow of blood. She tore another strip to bind the cuts on his foot.

"Stay with me, Thes." Her words emerged far steadier than her hands.

Demi cast a glance at the sky, sun high overhead. Where to go? Mersad's private dock for his divers would be dead at this time of day. No help to be found there. And while the port of Andriake would be bustling with docking merchant ships, sailors looking for drink and women, and carters hauling goods to warehouses, it was too great a risk for a woman with an incapacitated guardian to seek help there. It was far likelier for Theseus to be dumped overboard and she dragged onto a slave ship. She couldn't risk the port now.

She looked at Theseus. They couldn't risk waiting for dusk either. They'd have to beach in the cove. The path was rougher but a far shorter walk home than docking at Mersad's pier and trying to navigate the crush of people moving to and from the larger city of Myra barely a mile inland. From the cove she could drag Theseus home herself or leave him alone and run for help. Though neither option sounded ideal, they offered the only way to save her brother.

She set her chin, and the sail. Ahead, faded almond limestone tumbled into the sea-foam and obscured the entrance to the sandy cove.

"We're almost home, Theseus. Not long now."

Even draped with both of their outer tunics, Theseus shivered. Eyes closed. Too pale.

The swish and crackle of waves grew louder as they approached the shore.

Demi glanced at her brother and back toward the cove, expertly maneuvering the boat around rocks hidden just below the surface.

"Nearly there, Theseus. Stay with me."

With a hiss of sand on the hull, the boat beached, and Demi leaped out to drag it farther in. She swept aside shells and coral with her foot as she climbed back inside, kneeling to shake Theseus's shoulder.