It was a positive sign that she could still speak, but he had to get her dry. The night air was still warm, which would make all the difference.

When he found the strength to stand, Dirk hobbled to his feet and looked around. They had landed on a barren stretch of the southern Madagascan coastline, within the uninhabited parklands of Cape Sainte Marie. The beach and inland area were dark. He had no idea how far the nearest help was, but it didn’t matter. He lacked the energy to search.

He glanced seaward but found only a black and empty ocean. The coastline curved outward to the west, obscuring the lights of the Alexandria. He turned back inland and hiked up the beach, looking for shelter. The sand underfoot turned to hard scrabble, which led to some rocky hills and mounds. Nowhere was there anything resembling shelter.

He headed back toward Summer—and tripped over a protruding mound at the edge of the beach. It extended about a dozen feet and had created a burrow on its leeward side. The indentation would provide some protection from the sea breeze, likely the best shelter Dirk could find. Finding a ragged tassel of sea grass, he ripped up as much as he could and spread it about the burrow for insulation. He returned to Summer, carried her up the beach, and placed her in the makeshift bed.

The sea grass helped dry her skin, and he hiked down the beach to search for more. There was little, but he gathered what he could and returned to the shelter. He sat on the mound and used the grass to dry Summer’s skin before adding it to the bedding. When he stood, he knocked a lump of sand off the edge of the mound, exposing a faded band of material buried within.

He thought nothing of it as he took off his own jumpsuit and stood in the ocean breeze, shivering until his skin dried. He then lay down beside Summer as an additional wind barrier for her. She was murmuring more, and her body no longer felt icy. With a warm evening at hand, Dirk grew confident that she was going to be all right.

The exertion caught up with him, and his eyelids began to droop. A crescent moon appeared from behind a cloud and illumined the beach in a silvery glow. Above his head, Dirk could see the buried object protruding from the mound more clearly. It was washed-out yellow in color, marked with a string of faded black letters. His tired mind formed a name, which rang with a strange tone as he drifted to sleep.

Barbarigo.

Chapter 47

47

SUMMER AWOKE TO A SCRAPING SOUND NEAR HER ear. Prying open her eyes, she spotted a hulking object moving a few feet from her head.

“Dirk!” she cried, nudging her sleeping brother beside her.