Caleb Ledger stumbled out into the yacht’s main cabin to the sound of gunfire.

His head spun painfully as his breaths came in wheezing gasps. Blood streamed from a slash that cut deep into his scalp. To make things even worse, flames licked up along one of the cabin’s walls. Smoke began to fill the cabin, blotting out all scents except the acrid odors of burning wood, burning plastic.

Shouts came from outside, followed by a long braaaap! of automatic weapons fire.

He crouched down, peering as best he could through the cabin’s polished brass portholes. The ninety-foot-long vessel had a second fire burning brightly on the foredeck. Her mainsail lay in a smoldering heap by the mast.

The sharp prows and elongated hulls of two go-fast speedboats had been lashed to the yacht’s hull. In the light of the setting sun, he made out a blue-and-white eagle seal on one of them. Movement as more men came aboard.

Another exchange of gunfire boomed overhead. The bam! of shotgun rounds and yet more short braaps! of automatic weapons in return.

Caleb dropped to the floor. Shards of glass rained down, glancing off his shoulders. The pain in his head doubled in intensity, making it difficult for him to think.

The blood from his scalp wound ran down across his lips, filling his mouth with the taste of iron. He turned to spit, and then froze.

A woman lay sprawled on the floor opposite him. Her features were delicate, save for where a bullet had carried away the upper part of her skull, drenching her light brown hair in gory red. Her eyes stared blankly into nothingness.

She wore jeans and a blue jacket emblazoned with two words in bright yellow letters.

DEA AGENT.

A pistol lay near her hand. Caleb scooped it up and pressed the magazine ejection button on the side of the grip. It was still warm to the touch.

A quick check of the magazine and the pistol’s chamber. They were hot, but empty.

More shouts, followed by the tromp-tromp of booted feet stepping onto the foredeck.

Caleb set the gun down and crawled away from the sounds. He kept low to avoid the smoke as well as the people heading his way. He gasped as he emerged on the after deck, filling his lungs with fresh air.

Something was wrong with his sense of balance. He reeled as he tried to stand, head throbbing anew. A quick grab of the transom rail kept him from falling.

A burbling cry came from astern.

He spotted a bikini-clad woman in the water, trying to swim towards the stern of the boat. Her arms and legs thrashed in desperation as she tried to keep afloat.

“Socorro!” she gasped. “No puedo nadar!”

Caleb hesitated as he heard more shouts. Another blast of gunfire, followed by a blood-curdling scream. He looked around for nearby islands or other boats.

All he saw was a wide expanse of water.

He set his jaw and ignored the sounds behind him. Instead, he grabbed a fishing gaff that lay on the deck nearby. Then he stepped down onto the fiberglass grid that made up the boat’s swim platform. Ice-cold water bit into his feet like knives as small waves soaked his shoes and socks.

Caleb reversed the long pole so that the sharp hook was at the end opposite from the woman. He leaned over the edge and extended the handle towards her.

She grabbed the handle with a death-grip. The woman finally got a good look at him as he pulled her towards safety.

Her eyes lit up in fear and she let go of the gaff.

“It’s all right!” he said. “I’m not that scary, I promise!”

He grabbed her by one wrist and yanked her in. Then he set her hand where she could get a firm grasp on the platform. She looked at him with disbelief.

Another cry, from a male voice this time.

“Here! He’s over here!”

Caleb looked up and saw a quartet of men in dark jackets approaching from amidships. They made their way past the main cabin, now merrily ablaze. The flames illuminated three more bodies and the blood that had spilled across the boat’s cockpit and cabin roof.

One raised a gun and squeezed off a pair of shots.

The railing next to Caleb let out a pang! as the bullets ricocheted off the metal bar. Without stopping to think, he dove off the stern and into the sea.

For a split second, the water drove his breath from him. Then the icy chill cleared his head, driving him onward. He swam away from the burning yacht, once again searching the horizon for land or another boat.

Once again, he saw nothing but open ocean.

More shouts came from behind. The paff! paff! of bullets hitting the water around him. He gulped a breath of air, getting ready to dive–

–and felt a hard, hot punch in his back. A lance of fire drilled its way through one shoulder blade and out his chest. Air and blood from a punctured lung burbled from his mouth.

Caleb had time to gasp, once.

Then he disappeared beneath the waves.

He sank, arms and legs outstretched like a skydiver. Red-tinged bubbles trailed from his nostrils as well as the entry and exit holes of his wound. The rush of adrenaline slowed to a stop, as did his desperate final attempts to breathe.

The pain in his head went away. The agony that was the shattered mess of his shoulder dimmed away to nothing. Faint shapes at the edge of his vision materialized into circling sharks, their crescent-like tails driving them ever closer to the beacon of his blood flow.

Suddenly, the sharks vanished into the gloom. He felt his body come to a stop. He hung as if suspended by a line in the deep water.

An aquamarine glow began to illuminate the depths around him. Faintly at first, then growing in intensity to the point that it rivaled bright daylight.

So this is what it’s like to die, Caleb thought. I’ll admit, I never expected the light show.

Two shapes coalesced out of the brightness before him. They were gigantic in size, majestic in bearing. One resembled a man, clad in regal, flowing robes that matched an equally magnificent beard.

The other was a matronly woman, one who wore a gown that glinted along its length with pearls and carved mother-of-pearl. Their clothing and their hair continually melded and shifted with different shades of green and blue.

Finally, after a long, timeless moment, the man indicated where Caleb remained suspended in time and space. His voice boomed and reverberated in Caleb’s ears.

“Another soul comes to us, Danu.”

The woman responded in a voice that was unmistakably feminine, but no less filled with bass.

“This one is…interesting. This one is split and unsure of its path between the dark and the light.”

“Then perhaps we should cast it aside.” Caleb felt the press of the water about him, as if crushing him in a press. His heart made a desperate flutter inside his waterlogged chest.

“No, Lir. Flawed does not mean useless. We need an antidote to the sickness spread by Myr. We might not be able to find it if we insist on purity. Instead of unsullied, I want them unbowed. That much, I see in this one.”

“People from his world haven’t worked out well in Jaladri,” Lir warned. “Reincarnating him and sending him there will wipe parts of his mind.”

Danu considered. “It might be a blessing for him.”

“So be it.” Lir reached out.

Caleb felt the god’s touch. Warm, massive, and reassuring. The vision before him burst into a million bubbles, tossing him head over heels.

He blinked. His chest was whole again, and the surface glittered above. He kicked for it, straining every muscle before his newly restored lungs burst.

A massive, wheezing PAH! sounded as he broke the surface.

Caleb looked around. The ocean was calm. Moonlit. There was no sign of the burning yacht or either of the go-fast speedboats.

The rocky outlines of a large island loomed off to one side. A sandy beach beckoned nearby. Lanterns or torch lights illuminated a town perched midway between a crescent-shaped bay and a steep mountain. He heard the peal of a bell, and the distant sounds of people.

Head spinning and trying to comprehend what had just happened, Caleb swam toward the empty beach.