Walk on Water

by September Thomas

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “The temple was left in ruins.” His line of questioning was as methodical as ever.

  “Also true.”

  “Then how is she alive right now?”

  “You’re asking all the right questions,” I said. “They’re questions I’ve asked myself any number of times over the past twenty-four hours. I’m coming to you because I don’t want to worry the Council yet. I know how they’ll react, and I’d rather try to handle this without their interference first.”

  He stood, calf-skin boots clicking on the floor as he moved around the desk. He liked to move when he thought, he claimed it helped speed up his brainwaves. I turned in my seat. Rather than typical suits, he wore elegant vests and loose pants that allowed him to conceal weapons on his person.

  “What are you thinking?” Toren asked.

  “I want to bring her in. I want to hear from her about what happened.”

  “And what about your vision? They’re going to bring our destruction. Wage war against the Earth.”

  “I still believe it.”

  “And you don’t want her dead?”

  The mistake that wouldn’t stop coming.

  I twisted my cuff-links. Despite my tumbling thoughts earlier, the path to me now seemed clear.

  “Do I think there might be another way to stop the Gods? Yes.”

  “But…”

  “If that doesn’t work, I will still take her out.”

  He twisted on his heel, arms folded across his chest, broad shoulders tense. “What do you need from me then? You seem to have this figured out.”

  I dug into my pocket and tossed a note on top of his desk, right on top of the paperwork he had yet to complete. I’d recognized the bell tower image. I’d recognize the symbol of the Order anywhere. And that particular spire was distinct. Distinct in both its relationship and proximity to the Water Temple.

  “Do whatever you must to bring her in.”

  10

  Zara

  It was late.

  Incredibly late.

  Kaz was going to kill me.

  The elevator dinged overhead, that same cross between a doorbell and a dying cat from earlier, and the heavy doors slid open. It felt quiet. Way too quiet for a Friday night. Nervously, I checked my phone again. Plenty of battery life but no messages aside from the one I still refused to deal with from my mother saying we needed to talk. Why hadn’t anyone reached out? Why hadn’t Kaz? She normally hounded me whenever I wasn’t immediately within reach. I nibbled a fingernail, wondering at the uneasy feeling that had sprouted in my stomach.

  It was fine. Everyone must be out and about. The bars were still open at this hour. That’s why I couldn’t hear anything coming from behind the closed doors I passed.

  Not even the dull murmur of a television.

  I shifted my duffel bag from one shoulder to the other so I could reach my back pocket where I’d shoved my room key. I hesitated, holding it before me, looking anxiously between its shiny surface and the card reader fitted beneath the brass knob. The uneasy feeling in my gut spread, growing like a parasite. What was wrong with me? Kaz was pissed at me for being late. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t texted. She was mad. That was hardly enough for me to feel like I’d run from the scene of a crash.

  But I couldn’t hear the bright chatter of my teammates from the other side of the wooden surface. It was hardly late enough that everyone would have already passed out from a heavy night of partying after our big win.

  I admonished myself and rolled my shoulders. I slid the key into the lock and turned, feeling the door heave as the deadbolt slid back.

  The soft glow of the television bathed the room in bluish, fluorescent light. It was muted and an anchor from some national network silently delivered the latest update on the threat of an impending nuclear attack. Code red. The color flashed in the upper right side of the screen. A familiar color. A terrifying color. But not as terrifying as the scene in my room when I finally realized what I was looking at in the darkness: familiar faces—pale and stony in death.

  My duffel smacked the ground, but I barely heard it as I moved inside the room. I couldn’t feel my fingers. My arms and legs jerked in a strange disjointed manner as I edged toward the bed. A knot clogged my throat; I couldn’t swallow past it no matter how hard I tried.

  These were girls I’d competed with for years, celebrating wins and suffering through defeats, swimming through late nights, and sweating in early mornings.

  My hands flew to my chest, pressing hard as I struggled to draw air. The edges of my vision sparkled as tears clung to my lashes.

  Four people sprawled on the set of queen-size beds. My legs shook when I recognized Erin’s curves and Diana’s sleek black hair. Dorian’s tattooed arm lay across Camila’s stomach. Their eyes were closed as if asleep. The world seemed to move in slow motion as I reached out to Dorian, noticing a reddish froth staining the edges of her mouth. I touched her throat, checking for a pulse. Her skin was cold and dry, smooth like plastic. I pulled back, scrubbing my shaking hands against my shirt to get rid of the feeling, and nearly tripped over something on the floor.

  My teeth clicked together, clipping the tip of my tongue, and blood filled my mouth. Twins Letty and Lola were crumpled, face down, arms locked tight around each other. Beside them, face-up, slumped Riley. The television flickered eerily on her wide and glassy eyes.

  I stumbled back, gasping, and knocked into the body of an eighth girl collapsed on the dresser. I cringed as her body slipped down, landing on top of a hair-dryer on the floor. I vaguely remembered seeing her from one of the other teams. My chest felt tight; something wet landed on my hand. My numb brain realized I was crying. Tears slipped down my nose and chin as sobs shook my chest.

  These girls, my friends, were all in various stages of getting ready. Gods, they hadn’t even gone out yet. Whatever had happened, whatever struck them down, had come less than an hour after the meet. Fingers of horror slid icily across my chest. I could have been here. Had Finn not demanded my attention… I would have been here.

  I would have come back with Kaz.

  My breath caught in my chest, a scream tight behind the ball wadded in my throat. The bitter taste coating my tongue thickened, and I struggled to breathe. I needed to find Kaz. She had to be in here. We shared this room.

  I paused by the bathroom door, my breath coming in gasps through my lips. It was closed. It wasn’t like the entire team was here, but the ones we called friends were. There wasn’t a chance in hell she would be anywhere else.

  “Kaz?” Was that my voice? That high, shaky sound full of dread? “You in there?” The silence settled like a physical weight between my shoulder blades. One of my hands pushed on the door while my other turned the knob and it slid open, catching a bit on the cotton towel one of the girls had laid down as a makeshift rug. The door swung wide and I dropped to my knees, tears streaking down my cheeks, dripping on the floor.

  My best friend, my closest ally, my favorite person, was slumped in the fetal position, legs curled loosely to her chest. Her beautiful hair was wrapped in one towel and another was tucked around her chest. She’d been getting out of the shower when she’d fallen, impacted by the same thing that killed the other girls. A pool of blood surrounded her head, turning the towel bright red. She’d hit it on the edge of the sink when she’d gone down.

  But it was her eyes, those once highly-expressive eyes full of warmth and kindness, that I knew would forever haunt me. They stared at the doorway, at the one hand extended toward the opening as if asking for help, looking at me. Accusatory. Disappointed.

  I wasn’t here when she needed me most.

  If I’d been here, maybe there was something I could have done.

  Anything.

  I was almost unaware of the high keening noise coming from the back of my throat, the banshee shriek of grief. Barely aware of the cold tile under my knees as I slumped forward, my hand straining toward her cold limp o
ne.

  My fault.

  My fault.

  The nonsensical words revolved in my head, a broken record spinning and spinning.

  My fault.

  My body jolted as I was pulled back against a warm, firm chest; a large hand folded over my mouth, finally closing off that awful noise. “Shhh, Zara, shhh. Please for the sake of all that is holy, be quiet. We need to get out of here. Now.” Finn. His hushed voice shattered my frozen state, ripping my shock to shreds.

  I tore myself from his hold and twisted, smacking him square in the chest, the violence in my fists fueling my rage, my pain. He let me hit him twice more before throwing himself around me again, bracketing my arms to my sides as I flailed, struggling to get free. My breath came in hard and heavy now, large gulps of dizzying oxygen.

  “Enough Zara. I need you to calm down.” His voice was firm now, commanding. My body immediately stilled, responding to an authority figure. “You can freak out later, but we need to get out of here. Now. I don’t know how much of the gas you’ve already breathed in.”

  Gas? I fell limp in his arms, and I think he sighed in relief as he hoisted me up in his arms and out of the bathroom. Kazandra’s eyes still stared accusingly at me as we left.

  My fault.

  As I heaved in another breath, my brain finally recognized the wrongness of the taste coating the inside of my mouth. I tried to spit but couldn’t draw enough moisture to my tongue. Now that the shock had been knocked from me, the incredibly real danger I was in hit like a tidal wave.

  “Can you walk?” Finn asked. The blue-striped walls of the hallway stood out in stark relief. I couldn’t recall him pushing through the door and setting me down. His hands now held me upright, my duffel slung over his shoulder. I shook my head and he swore, gaze darting up the hallway to the elevator before he hoisted me over his other shoulder. Long legs took us toward the emergency exit.

  “Alarms,” I heard myself say.

  This didn’t feel real.

  It couldn’t be real.

  “No. I can control the fire exit alarms.” He shouldered his way through, taking care to not knock my head on the frame, and sprinted down the flights of stairs. I remained silent, the rhythmic pounding of his feet jarring my body uncomfortably. His grip was firm as he adjusted me again to push the ground-level door open. Once outside, Finn set me down. “I know it hurts, but I need you to run. We need to get somewhere safe. I promise it’s not very far, but I can’t move as quickly if I’m carrying you. Not in this state, and I can’t risk transforming right now.”

  I was still gasping, heaving for air. My mind felt detached from my body, and my stomach was roiling and churning, but I nodded all the same. His vibrant urgency pushed some primal instinct deep inside me. His face was pale, eyes intense as he searched mine, but his lips firmed and he gripped my chilled and shaking hand, tugging me through the streets.

  I recognized some of the buildings but couldn’t quite figure out where we were going. All I could do was press a hand to the soft back of Finn’s t-shirt and trust him to guide the way. And I managed for a while. But after it felt like we’d been running for forever, I finally stumbled, tripping over feet that I’d stopped feeling ages ago. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t see. A headache blazed through me, threatening to swamp me in a migraine. The strangled gagging that was my breathing sounded far away.

  Finn dropped to his knees, cool hands cradling my too-hot cheeks, eyes tearing over my face. The sharp movement caused my head to swirl, a jagged motion that shot right to my trembling belly. Saliva finally filled my mouth and my throat clicked. I batted at Finn’s hands, forcing them away and twisted to the side, collapsing on my palms as I heaved up what little I’d eaten the day before. My shoulders hunched again and my stomach rolled, expelling sea foam green bile. Finn rubbed my back in soothing motions and held my hair back from my face.

  We stayed like that for Gods knows how long, my body fighting something that I couldn’t quite understand, and the kelpie doing what little he could to comfort me.

  Finally, I collapsed on my back, my throat burning angrily as my abdominal muscles quaked and quivered with exertion. I could see again. And I could kind of focus: a small miracle. Of course, the thing I focused on was a pair of eyes that burned jade on a face that was the color of the moon. Finn’s hand gripped mine hard and I squeezed back, reassuring him I was okay.

  Sort of.

  “What’s happening to me?” The rasp barely wormed past my worn-down vocal cords.

  He shook his head, his mouth in a hard, grim line.

  He said, “I hate to ask this of you, but we need to keep moving. It isn’t safe here, but I have a place where we can go.”

  My muscles protested as I tried to move my arms. Yeah. Moving was literally the last thing I wanted to do. But Finn needed me to do this. And I needed him right now. “Only if you help me up.”

  Dark bangs fell across his face as he nodded and stood with a groan, pulling hard on my hand still clasped tight in his. Everything screamed at me. Literally everything. Muscles that I’d never known existed screamed, muscles inside my muscles screamed. But I stood nonetheless, forcing my coltish legs to cooperate. “Let’s go.”

  He tugged my hand again and we raced toward a wooded area that smelled like the sea. The salty, briny scent only grew stronger as we surged toward the water’s edge. I don’t know how long we ran before the sea emerged, dark and ominous and frothing with anger.

  “My home is nearby. It’s my safe haven if you want to call it anything. Somewhere that I hibernate. We’ll be okay there for a little bit. It’s small, but no one else knows about it,” Finn explained as we encroached upon a large mass of rocks. At the base, he paused and ran his hands up and down my arms as if reassuring himself I was still there.

  “It’s on a small chunk of land that juts into the sea. We need to get you near water. That’s going to make you feel like a million bucks again.” His attempt at humor fell flat.

  He hadn’t been wrong about anything yet so far, so he was probably right about this, too. But when I tried to move my legs again, nothing came. I was done. My poor body had nothing left to give. My knees locked, pitching me forward into the kelpie’s body. He grabbed me as I slid to the ground. He tried to hoist me up, but stopped when I started trembling violently. Blind and deaf to the world, I let the waves of pain pull me under. Dry heaves wracked my struggling body, a body of which I was quickly losing all control.

  Knives stabbed into my brain, spears shooting down my spine. A giant pulling on my arms, quartering my limbs. What was going on?

  Somewhere I thought I heard Finn curse as he rolled me to my back, trying to cushion my head on his legs as my head knocked backward repeatedly. The motion sent shards of glass right into my sensitive nerves and down my body.

  I was seizing.

  Then I blissfully blacked out.

  11

  Geoffrey

  “Explain.”

  Rage wasn’t a hot enough word to explain the turmoil coiling greasily in my chest. I doubted a word existed for how I felt in this exact moment. The second Toren slunk into my offices, head bowed and hands clasped tight around his back, I’d known—known something had gone horribly wrong. On this, this was unacceptable.

  “The girl escaped.”

  “So you said,” I gritted. “How, for the love of the Gods, does that explain a room full of dead girls?”

  His face was ashen, eyes downcast, everything about his body language read remorse. For once, he wasn’t fidgeting with a pen or a button on his vest. The magnitude of the situation had shaken him.

  Good.

  My knuckles whitened as I clenched fists around the rounded arms of my seat.

  “These were two of my best men in the region, you have to understand. I wouldn’t have trusted anyone but the best with an assignment of this scale,” he said and sat down. His fingers wrapped around a document in his lap. “They were disguised as police officers armed with an arrest warrant.
It was something menial, assault, but enough to bring her in without raising any red flags.”

  “Alright,” I muttered.

  “Since you knew her first name and general appearance, it wasn’t difficult to verify her identity and track her down. She was in the hotel where you said she would be. After they explained the situation to the manager, they released information about her room and my officers proceeded to the proper floor. Following protocol, they knocked on the door and one of the girls inside allowed them entry. That’s when things get a little tricky.” Toren’s haunted eyes bored into mine as he implored me to hear him out, understand exactly what went wrong.

  Through my teeth, I gritted, “Continue.”

  “She wasn’t in the room. The girl who answered the door said they didn’t know where she was and they hadn’t seen her since a swim meet ended earlier that day. They showed the warrant, explained how serious the situation was, and asked the other girls in the room if that was indeed the case. The other girls seemed to agree with that assessment.” He finally looked away from me and unfolded the paper in his lap. “I want to make sure I get this right, so I’m reading from their report.”

  “Go ahead,” I said.

  “My lead officer says when they turned to exit the room, the door swung open and the subject entered. While they recognized her from your description, they asked her to verify her identity to be sure. She answered that she was, in fact, Zara Ramone, and asked why they were there. When my lead officer presented her with the arrest warrant, she became agitated.”

  “It actually says ‘agitated’ in the report?” I asked. “If someone presented me with a fake arrest warrant I’d probably be more confused than anything.”

  The page crinkled as Toren peered down at it. His dark brows pulled together in a vee as he reread what was written. “Yes… it clearly says agitated.”

  I snorted but waved at him to continue.

  “My second officer says when he reached for his handcuffs and asked her to turn around, she started backing toward the open door. She claimed there was a misunderstanding, and that she wouldn’t come with them without speaking to her coach first. They told her that wasn’t permitted—”