«You love me?» She sounded even more frightened than before.
«Yes. Now you and I are going to take the rest of the afternoon and evening off, and spend it in here. If your mother doesn't like that, then she should seriously start to think about leaving the island.»
Eason had never been in Althaea's bedroom before. When he woke up the next morning he looked round blearily. Wan white walls were hung with holographic posters, one of which gave the bed a panoramic view over rugged snowcapped mountains and a magical Bavarian castle. He turned over. Althaea was missing. Her ageing Animate Animal bear was on the floor along with the white silk negligée. Last night she hadn't quite dropped her reserve completely, but he was definitely making progress. And the seeds of rebellion against her witch mother had been firmly planted. Another pleasurable day at Charmaine.
He pulled on his jeans and went down to the kitchen. Althaea wasn't there either, which was unusual. She normally made breakfast for everyone.
He started opening cupboards, then he heard her screaming for help. Tiarella was already charging down the stairs as he rushed out of the back door. It sounded as though she was down at the jetty. He pounded along the path, wishing to Christ that the fluxpump wasn't back at his chalet. If that damn snake had run amok . . .
When Eason burst out of the trees, the scene he found was nothing like what he expected. Althaea was lying on the grass right on top of the coral wall, stretching out desperately. There was a wooden dinghy in the water, being tossed about by the current. It smacked into the coral wall with a nasty crunch. Althaea tried to grab the arm of the single occupant, but the dinghy twisted and surged backwards.
Eason ran forwards and threw himself down beside her. The dinghy had been holed on the vicious coral teeth surrounding the wall, and was sinking fast. Another swell rose, pitching it forward again. His synaptic web came on-line, calculating the approach vector and projecting the impact point. He shifted round fractionally, stretching out—
A wrist slapped into his waiting palm. He grabbed tight and pulled. The dinghy was dragged back, sharp spears of coral punching through the hull as it sank below the foam. Tiarella landed on the grass beside him with a hefty thump, reaching out to grasp the shoulder of the lad Eason was holding. Together, the three of them hauled him up over the top of the wall.
Eason blinked in surprise. It was Mullen.
«You idiot!» Tiarella yelled. «You could have been killed.» She flung her arms round the dazed lad. «Dear God, you could have been killed.»
«I'm sorry,» Mullen stammered. He was shaking badly. There was blood oozing from his palms.
Tiarella let go, as self-conscious as Althaea had ever been, then sniffed and wiped away what Eason swore were tears. «Yes. Well, OK. It's a tricky approach, you'll have to learn about the currents round the island.»
«Yes, miss,» Mullen said meekly.
Eason took one of the lad's hands and turned it over. The skin on the palm had been rubbed raw. «What happened?»
«It was the rowing. I'm not used to it.»
«Rowing? You mean you rowed here from Oliviera?»
«Yes.»
Eason's immediate response died in his throat. He glanced at Althaea who was looking at Mullen with an expression of surprise and wonder.
«Why?» she asked timidly. «Why did you come?»
«I wanted . . .» He glanced round at Eason and Tiarella, panic-stricken.
«Go on,» Tiarella said gently. «The truth never hurts in the long run.» She smiled encouragement.
Mullen took a nervous breath. «I wanted to see you again,» he blurted to Althaea.
«Me?»
«Uh-huh.»
Her delicate face betrayed a universe of delight. Then it crumpled to guilt, and she looked at Eason, almost fearful.
His own emotions were almost as confused. What a ridiculous romantic the lad was. Small wonder Althaea was flattered. However, right now he was not prepared to tolerate a rival.
«Eason,» Tiarella said sharply. «You and I have to talk. Right now.»
«We do, yes, but now is not the time.» He said it politely, making an effort to keep his temper in check.
«I insist. Althaea.»
«Yes, Mother?»
«I want you to treat Mullen's hands. You know where the first aid kit is. Do it in the kitchen, I expect he'll want something to eat after that voyage.» She patted the surprised lad's head. «Silly boy. Welcome back.»
Eason closed the study door, cutting off the sound of Althaea and Mullen chattering in the kitchen. When he faced Tiarella he knew that somehow she'd undermined him. Mullen's arrival had changed everything. Yet he didn't see how that was possible.
«Just what the fuck is going on?» he asked.
Tiarella's expression was glacial. «I warned you. I told you your time was up, but you wouldn't listen.»
«My time is just beginning.»
«No it isn't. And as from now, you're not to sleep with Althaea again. I mean that, Eason. And I will enforce it if you make me. Solange is quite capable of dealing with you, and that's just the creature you know about.»
«You're bluffing.»
«Am I? Then it's your call.» She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a finger-length cylinder with wires trailing from one end. «This is out of the fluxpump. I visited your chalet yesterday evening, just in case.»
«You would seriously set that snake on me for loving your daughter?»
«I would now, yes. Force is all you know, Eason. It's what you'll use if you think Mullen threatens you. I won't tolerate any violence against him.»
«Oh, come on! You honestly think she's going to choose that boy-child over me?»
«She chose him before she was born.»
«This is your cards shit again, isn't it?»
«Far from it.» She walked round the desk and pointed up at the big family print. «Who is this?» A finger tapped impatiently on Vanstone.
He gave an exasperated sigh. Crazy bitch. Then he looked, really looked at the man's features. All the confidence, all the anger inside him started to chill. «It's . . . But it can't be.»
«Yes, it is,» she said wistfully. «It's Mullen. About ten years older than he is now.»
«What have you done? What is going on here?»
Tiarella grinned ruefully. «Small wonder he frightened the life out of me in that dinghy this morning.» She cocked her head to one side, looking up at Eason. «There's just one last thing to show you.»
He hadn't even known the house had a cellar. Tiarella took a torch to lead him down the slippery stone steps. There was a metal airlock door at the bottom. It was open, leading into a small decontamination chamber. The door at the far end was shut.
«This is Dad's old lab,» Tiarella said as she pumped the manual handle to open the inner door. «The electrics fused in a storm years ago, but it's all still functional, I think.»
Inside, Eason found a world completely removed from the rest of Charmaine. Benches of glassware glinted and sparkled as Tiarella swept the torch beam round. Dead electronic modules sprouted wires and optical fibres to mingle with the tubes, bulbs, and dishes. Autoclaves, freezers, synthesis extruders, and vats stood around the walls, along with cabinets he couldn't begin to understand. Two large computer terminals occupied the central desk, a high-resolution holographic projector on the ceiling above them.
«Most of Charmaine's foliage was spliced together in here,» Tiarella said. «And those pesky firedrakes.»
«Right.»
She came to a halt in front of a large stack of machinery. «What I'm trying to show you, Eason, is that Dad knew what he was doing. He took his master's degree at Kariwak University. Several bitek research labs offered him a position, but he came back here.»