I was going to leave the Kraken? But I’d only just met… It. Did It have a gender? Were the Great Beasts something beyond male and female? My arms wrapped around me, clutching my body tight in a very different way than I had before. This time I was struggling to keep a wrap on my pain.
…Finn will accompany you topside.
Stars. In my musings I’d missed some of the Kraken’s instructions. The subject of Its sentence was still staring me down, glaring like I’d killed his favorite pet. What would a creature like a kelpie keep as a pet? A piranha? An eel? Some sort of blood-sucking leech?
…make sure that’s your top priority. I expect results soon.
And again.
I dragged my fingers through my hair. I’d stopped paying attention again. Like, really stopped paying attention. The ruined castle was long gone. Instead, gold-green rays of sunlight filtered through the water and moments later, my head broke the surface. I gasped. He, she, It had done more than that. We were back at the docks. The octopus’ head, which now looked more purple than grey, had crested the water and no one was screaming in panic. I figured It must have cast some sort of magical cloak of invisibility.
A loud slurping sound came from my right. Finn hauled himself onto the dock. Shockingly, his horse-parts had transformed into a pair of regular, human legs. Legs now suspiciously clothed in a pair of dry track pants. Hell, his entire body was dry, his hair artfully sculpted but purposefully-messy spikes. It was the kind of look you’d expect to find on an anime character, but it somehow looked completely natural.
I, on the other hand, looked about as good as I always did after a long day of swim practice: wet, exhausted, and bedraggled. My hair tie was long gone, and my hair hung limply around my face, strands sticking to my cheeks and neck here and there.
I propped my arms on the dock and started to heave myself out of the water. Finn didn’t offer me a hand up. Instead, amusement danced in his expression as he watched me struggle. The dock was situated much higher out of the water than I was used to from competitive swimming. Finally, I was able to kick my legs in such a way what I flopped onto the wooden boards. I snorted out a laugh and glanced back at Finn’s perfection, waving a hand vaguely. “How do you look so…” I trailed off and motioned at myself instead, “And I look like…”
“A drowned cat?” he offered.
I bristled.
“Kidding. Maybe. It’s called magic. One of these days you’ll figure out what that means.”
Fed up with his attitude, I turned away and gazed back out over the water. A wave of sadness drifting from the Kraken hit me in my core. In only a few short hours we’d bonded. It felt like a part of me, as vital as my liver or heart or blood. I rolled over to my stomach, ignoring the large wet splotch where I’d fallen, and dropped a hand into the sea. A pinkish tentacle reached up and brushed my skin.
“Why do I have to be the Goddess of Water?”
“You have to be kidding me! God. There aren’t any Goddesses.”
One guess who that was.
“Anyway, why do I have to be the God of Water? It doesn’t seem fair that I have to leave my partner behind because I live on land instead of the ocean,” I continued.
It won’t be easy. None of this is. Unlike older generations, you’ve had zero preparation, no time to brace yourself for the possibility of assuming the role of eternal protector. It blinked one large, golden eye. But I sense greatness in you, Zara. I sense the spirit necessary for success as the representative of water. You will do us proud.
I gulped, a heavy weight settling on my shoulders.
Besides, we’ll never really be separated. Now that we’ve connected, as long as water is nearby, we will be able to feel each other. That’s important to remember, Zara. If I can’t feel you, then I can’t help you. That’s a very dangerous situation. Make sure you have water with you at all times and learn to rely on Finn. He’s your guardian. He wants what’s best for you even if he has an odd way of showing it.
I tapped an index finger on the wet dock, the chilly air wrapping around my soaked body for the first time. Finn’s stare was a heavy weight, his eyes practically boring holes in the back of my head.
My head bobbed once.
I’d try.
A hand dropped into my line of vision, palm open and fingers extended. “Come on,” Finn said, “you’re exhausted. I’d rather not carry you back to wherever you’re staying.”
I was tired, and I grabbed his hand. His palm felt rough with callouses, and he tugged me to my feet. Then he brushed off my shoulders like one of those annoying fashion designers on TV, as he cast a forlorn look over my hair and clothes.
“If anyone asks, tell them you fell in the sea.”
“I did fall in the sea.”
“I meant, like you tripped on a shoelace.” He stopped walking and pointed at my shoes. They were definitely untied. “And fell off the docks in front of all your friends. How embarrassing for you.”
My sigh was deep and heartfelt as I knelt. Rather than attempt the complexity that was the bow, I tucked the laces underneath the tongue. A thought crashed into me, and I paused. “What about the boat?”
“The boat?”
“The boat I was on. I went overboard. Aren’t they going to wonder what happened to me?”
Finn shrugged. “The Kraken probably took care of it. You worry too much.”
“I worry the right amount,” I retorted. I got to my feet and started in the direction of the hotel. I remembered the way because of its proximity to a crumbling, gothic-era church and its bell tower that extended high over the other buildings. Thankfully, we didn’t have far to walk.
“Hypothetically speaking, how would a Kraken take care of this?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Finn said. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and slung his shoulders back with his strut. “Wipe their memories? You’re asking me how the magic of a Great Beast works. It’s not like there’s a user guide for this stuff.”
My eye twitched.
Finn kept rambling even after I threw my entire weight into opening the hotel door, spilling us into the outrageously-average lobby with worn floors and dusty upholstered chairs. The desk clerk looked over, a white phone receiver tucked between her shoulder and ear. I didn’t miss the way her gaze skipped past me and lingered on the man who looked like a celebrity who’d stepped off the cover of a magazine.
If I were her, I’d probably look at him too.
If only she knew what a jerk he was.
The kelpie was surprisingly quiet in the elevator ride up. His head bobbed to the tinkling music spilling from the dying speakers overhead.
“You like that stuff,” I said, aghast.
“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s elevator music.”
“Fitting. Considering it’s playing,” he spread his hands, “in an elevator.”
My head thunked as it hit the wall. The doors opened and Finn grabbed my hand, tugging me forward on legs that really didn’t want to move anymore.
“Come now, no rest for the weary.”
“That’s exactly who does need rest.”
“Look who’s got jokes,” Finn said.
“You’re a joke.”
“Here, give me that key card. You’re barely hitting the box and… yep. That definitely wasn’t the slot. I’ll just—” He guided my hand so the plastic fitted into the card-reader and pushed the door open.
I think I mumbled something about needing to hit the gym because I’d missed an entire day of workouts. But I couldn’t be sure, because the white comforter and sheets tucked around the edges of the twin beds inside the room looked incredibly inviting.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said with small grin. It was utterly unlike his other flashy smiles, and I almost wondered where that other guy had gone. He pulled back the sheets and pushed me down to the pillow-top mattress.
“Why the hell not?” I asked.
&nb
sp; “Somehow I imagined you to be more eloquent.”
Rather than answer, I snuggled into the pillow that smelled of bleach. The heavy weight of the comforter dropped on top of me, and the warmth soothed my sore muscles and aching bones.
“You’re about to pass out for a week. Whether you believe it or not, today was pretty hard on you. The last thing you need is even more adrenaline.”
“Fine,” I slurred out, sleep already dragging me under. “I’ll kick your butt in the morning.”
He smiled and I shut my eyes while trying to formulate a better response. Before I completely passed out, though, I could have sworn his hand brushed my cheek softly. “Whatever you say, Z.”
5
Geoffrey
Present Day
The Gods never announced themselves quietly.
One single thought passed through the space between my ears before searing heat blasted my skull. Another wave of nausea sent me sprawling over the porcelain bowl. What little was left in my stomach came right back up. I coughed wetly, bile dripping from my lips as I waited for the next round of crippling pain.
Three beats.
Four.
The tension knotting my shoulders eased. The lid clattered as I collapsed around the toilet, limbs trembling with the sudden release of adrenaline. Sweat stained the collar of my grey shirt, turning the fabric nearly black. The first icy whisper of magic I barely remembered blasted a warning that had driven me to my knees. Only luck would have it I was in my inner chambers at the time. The second rattle of millions of rocks banging inside my skull knocked me nearly to the ground, the vertigo wrecking me.
I swiped the back of my hand, cold as marble, across my mouth and coughed again, eyes squeezing shut against the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. The third punch was the screaming of thousands of tortured souls. I’d barely made it to the bathroom.
But it isn’t possible.
The reflective surface of the vanity mirror seemed far away from the ground.
I killed them. I wiped them out. I ensured they couldn’t…
A toothbrush went flying as my forearm swiped across the quartz counter top.
Two of four had survived. But why emerge now? Had one of them been the First of Four to emerge, they would have risen up as a child. It was far too late for that now. What changed?
The soap dish shattered into hundreds of jagged pieces that crunched beneath my shins, digging dozens of tiny trails of blood across my skin. Fingers grasped the edge of the sink, knuckles paper-white.
After all this time, that must mean…
A face carved thin by starvation, and pale from lack of sunlight, stared back at me. Across my forehead four symbols blazed black as sin, edged with lightning white. Four symbols that hadn’t seared with life for nearly seventeen years. Four symbols that, though they could never be hidden, I’d thought I’d extinguished forever.
Treachery.
A tendril of something curled through my chest, turned to sand in my throat.
A decoy.
My clenched fist opened, one finger lifting at a time. Breath hung in my chest, sticky as webs.
Could one have survived?
A single flickering flame burned in my palm.
Then a wisp of smoke.
Magic.
A curl of liquid.
A mottled pebble.
One awakened.
But which?
6
Zara
Water dripped behind me.
Or was it in front?
I couldn’t see. Was I blind? No. Neck muscles strained as I attempted to turn my head, the soft fabric of a blindfold wrapped tight around the edges of my face. It was impossible to tell in this utter darkness where the steady ping, ping, ping of liquid on metal was coming from. But I did know it was sending tiny spears of pain shooting through my brain with each drop.
Weakly, I tested my mobility. My arms and legs were still attached, which was good. But when I tried to move them, they met the resistance of some sort of rope. The cords wrapped around my limbs, but not tightly enough that they cut off my circulation. Something wet coated my fingers.
Blood.
My gut twisted.
No.
I couldn’t think that way. I needed to stay calm, rational.
It was probably water. Or sweat. Something inconsequential.
But that didn’t stop the next thoughts: Where was I? Why was I tied up?
Was I kidnapped in my sleep?
I’d never felt those sturdy muscles in the back of my tongue work harder as they did now, struggling to spread thick, waxy saliva around the inside of my mouth. It tasted like fear and helplessness. I wanted to scream for help, but my voice remained lodged in my throat. My heart pounded, lungs expanded rapidly. The air smelled crisp, clean, and a little salty. It was not at all like the dank and dirty basement I envisioned myself in.
I rubbed my wrists against the binding again. A low moan caught in my throat as the elastic material tightened with my movement. I was completely, thoroughly trapped; incapable of sneaking away before…
Before what?
My heart kicked into a full-on gallop.
Was that a noise? The unmistakable wooden creak of a door? Yes. Definitely footsteps beating a fast tempo across the floor. The pattering of two feet—one person—came closer. I gulped, trying to think past my fear.
“You’re here. And you’re awake.” The warm, masculine voice sounded surprised. Like he hadn’t expected to find me here in this state of duress. “When I called you, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect.”
“Who are you?” I cut into his ramblings, having finally found my voice. I was growing increasingly aware that not only was I tied up, but I was in the company of a complete stranger. “Why did you bring me here?”
“I needed to talk to you.” He made it sound like the most rational thing in the world. Something soft brushed over the bindings and I flinched. “But it didn’t quite…”
“So you kidnapped me? Where are you from that it’s OK to take someone in their sleep, tie them up, and then… what?” The grip of ice on my skin tightened. What was going to happen to me?
“Please take a deep breath. You’re starting to hyperventilate. I’m trying to help you out here.”
“I doubt that.”
“Your magic is fighting you.”
Hold up. “What?”
A match struck the side of a box, the sound as unmistakable as the soft fizz of resulting flame. It was quickly followed by the mellowing scent of eucalyptus. I forced myself to take deeper breaths. Seconds passed, maybe a minute. I blinked and realized the blindfold wasn’t blocking light as effectively as it had before. I could make out the silhouette of a person slouched in a chair in front of me.
“I thought that might help. I find candles to be particularly soothing. Same with incense. I’ve never been sure why that is. Maybe it has to do with the air magic.” He hummed low in his throat, and I wondered about the sanity of my maybe-captor. “Anyway. You asked who I am. I’m Geoffrey. And I have a great many questions for you.”
The ties twisting around my hands tightened. “First let me go.”
“I’m not really sure how to do that.”
“Why?”
“It’s your magic. Or what I assume is your magic, anyway, if water is your affiliation.”
“How can you tell?”
“A few ways, I guess. I mean, it’s blue for starters. There are also streaks of water running down your arms. It’s a bit of a giveaway, really.”
See, Zara. Water. Not blood.
“If you can see it, why can’t you fix it?”
“I’m afraid I’ve had my share of your magic for an even shorter span than you. I’m not quite sure how to use it myself. You see, that’s why I reached out to you. We need to talk.” Geoffrey’s chair creaked as he shifted. “You’ve already inadvertently answered my primary question. It was important for me to know which element you controlled because we are
connected; the stronger you get, the stronger I get. You’re also my main contact between the other Gods when we can’t physically talk to one another.”
My blood hummed, electrified. He knew who I was. Kind of. He definitely knew what I was, anyway. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m the head of the Order. Maybe that will help if you have a limited understanding of our organization. As the head of the Order, I’m your Hand. I’m supposed to help guide you and teach you.”
I’d heard that title before. The person that served as a guide to the Gods. I blinked beneath the fabric-that-wasn’t-fabric. More light was filtering through the folds now; the shadow that was his person was growing darker and the air around him lighter. I could now make out a man’s blocky build. It was oddly reassuring.
“How are we talking like this?”
“I’m speaking to you through a mental connection only shared between the Gods and their Hand. It’s like sharing a room between our minds, confidential and safe. I can’t hurt you here and you can’t hurt me.”
My stomach clenched hard. “You want to hurt me?”
“Not necessarily. But depending on your intentions, that could change. And, considering your lack of control, I’m a little more concerned about you hurting me—accidentally or on purpose.”
“And that’s why can’t I see?”
“That’s my best guess,” Geoffrey said. “I can see your magic spinning and swirling in and around you like a drunken butterfly: beautiful yet chaotic. Uncontrolled. I’m not really sure why your mental self is resisting this connection, to tell you the truth. But, if your knowledge is as limited as I believe it is, then it could be a simple lack of understanding.”
I sucked on my tongue. The Kraken spoke mind-to-mind. It really wasn’t all that crazy to think other beings could do the same thing. “Why, exactly, did you call me here to this… whatever this is?”
“We need to talk.”
“You said that already.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
Walk on Water Page 4
