They’re baiting it, she realised. Yrsa and Finn were baiting the sea serpent. Roh scanned the turquoise waters around her, her eyes drawn to the shadowed parts. Didn’t they know that spilling blood like that would attract all manner of predators? She pictured a mighty reef dweller, wrapping its poison-laced tentacles around one of the highborns, leaving rings of thick, white scars like those on Toril’s arms.
Squinting, Roh spotted two packs on the seabed, and ropes – no, some kind of net. They’re going to trap it? Are they mad? Roh couldn’t believe what she was seeing. But how —
A ripple shuddered through the sea. The temperature dropped abruptly and a rush of pressure swayed Roh. Gods, she needed to get out of this trap. She would not sit here while they took the scale and the crown from her.
A flash of pale gold tore through the currents and the turquoise waters went dark.
The sea serpent had come.
Roh watched in sheer terror as the gigantic beast carved through the water, racing towards the poor wounded whale. Its thick, muscular body covered in pale-gold scales hummed with unyielding power. Worst of all, its forked tongue flickered from its mouth with a hiss Roh could hear through the current as it approached the whale.
Ignoring the hammering in her chest, Roh forced herself to focus on the trap. It was a weight-loaded contraption – she had seen its like many times before. It was difficult to find its hinges in the dim light, but she followed the bars with her hands and explored by touch until she felt the juncture with her fingertips. As she suspected, a pin and barrel —
A vicious hiss vibrated through the waters as the sea serpent gnashed its fangs at its prey. Through the bars of her cage, another flutter of movement caught Roh’s eye and she clapped a hand to her mouth. Finn and Yrsa split up from where they were hiding below, making a mad dash for the serpent, the net opening like a giant mouth between them. They were lightning fast, and as the serpent’s jaws closed around the weakened whale, the net closed over the serpent.
An enraged shriek pierced the muted sounds of the undercurrent as the cyrens brought the net to a close with unnatural speed, as though they had been hunting serpents their whole lives. Roh stared, unable to tell who was more impressive, the highborns or the water beast. The legendary creature lashed and writhed in the restraints, bubbles and foam forming in the water around it. But Yrsa and Finn held strong.
The net’s enchanted, Roh realised. It has to be …
Amidst the screeches and the vortex the captured creature was creating in the net with all its thrashing, Roh could hear the pair arguing.
‘It won’t hold,’ Finn yelled telepathically.
‘It will,’ Yrsa countered, her voice straining. ‘Long enough for us to grab a scale —’
‘It won’t. I can barely hold —’
The serpent pummelled the water more wildly still, and for the first time, Roh seriously debated whether she was safer locked away in the trap. But no – she needed a scale. She would not remain a bone cleaner. She would not let Odi drown in that tank. Using her talons and dagger, she set to work on the pins of the hinges.
Finn nearly lost his grip on his end of the net; he fumbled, managing to only just maintain his grasp. The beast’s barbed tail struck through the net, aimed right at Finn’s exposed middle —
‘That’s it,’ Finn coaxed, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.
Yrsa screamed, ‘Finn, don’t —’
But in one swift motion, Finn had released his part of the net and loaded his crossbow. He shot. A bone-rattling roar filled the water and Roh looked up to see waves on the surface rise and crash into foaming masses. Her blood froze in her veins. What has he done?
A flash of gold blinded her, followed by a guttural shriek of terror. Roh regained her sight just in time to see the net shred apart and the barbed tail whip through the water with unnerving speed, lashing into Finn’s unprotected body. His eyes went wide as the barb pierced his middle, detaching itself from the serpent’s tail. A cry of pain died on Finn’s lips and his limp hand released the crossbow, the weapon sinking, as if in half-speed, to the sea floor. Finn followed after it, unconscious or dead, his body hitting the sand in a heap.
The trap door came loose beneath Roh’s expert talons, and before she could think, she was darting towards Finn. When she reached him, his lips were blue and his whole body was trembling. The barb of the serpent’s tail was embedded in his stomach, his shirt stained red. It was only as Roh looped her arms under Finn’s that she questioned whether or not she should help him. After all, he’d done everything he could to sabotage her from the moment the tournament began. Her grip loosened. He’d tried to disfigure her with flying coral, he’d tried to have Odi taken away from her, and now this? Just moments ago, she’d been trapped in a prison of his making.
Before Roh could move, the roar rattled her bones again. With a crossbow bolt sticking out from between its golden scales, the serpent turned its vicious gaze to Yrsa, who was looking down at Finn and Roh, still clutching the net in shock.
Gods, Roh cursed, making a final decision and pulling Finn’s limp body through the current towards the shelter of the cave.
She glanced back up, panic spiking. ‘Yrsa! Watch out!’
The serpent struck. Blade-like fangs gnashed and Yrsa screamed. Fresh blood seeped into the water as fangs sliced through her arm. Writhing in pain, Yrsa became tangled in the net, sinking to the seabed, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.
Roh shoved Finn into the cave and made a dive for Yrsa. Above, the sea serpent whipped its body through the water and lunged a second time for the Jaktaren. But Roh already had her. She half dragged Yrsa, still tangled in the net, through the currents, shaping the water to her will, and propelling them towards safety. They burst across the threshold, just as yellowed fangs gleamed at the mouth of the cave. Roh gasped for air, thanking the gods that the entrance was too small for the giant creature to penetrate. Leaning against the wall, Yrsa was panting, her face twisted with pain. Outside, the serpent screeched and thrashed, as though trying to shake the bolt free from its scales. Unsuccessful, it gave a final roar, snatched the dead whale in its jaws and glided through the currents, disappearing into the dark tides beyond.
Yrsa’s eyes were scrunched shut as she clutched her arm. Untangling her from the net, Roh surveyed the injury. It wasn’t life-threatening. She’d seen worse in the workshop.
‘You’ll be alright,’ Roh told her.
Yrsa waved her away and pointed to Finn. ‘Help him. The barb is poisonous.’ The voice that spoke into Roh’s mind was weak and Roh hesitated, but Yrsa gave her a frail push. Roh went to Finn, not quite able to believe what she was doing. He was in much worse shape than before, alive but fading, his lips now near black and his arms stiff and cold. Roh pulled the barb from his flesh, hoping that the salt water around them would clean the wound, or would at least keep the poison at bay until help no doubt arrived for the highborns. She retrieved their packs and rummaged through them. Finding a cloak, she wrapped it around Finn without thinking, tucking it at his sides as though he were a young nestling. Her damn human had rubbed off on her, that’s what had happened here …
Yrsa reached, not for her, but for the crossbow and Finn’s bolts.
Roh palmed her dagger, ready to fight, but Yrsa simply loaded the weapon and handed it to her. ‘You’ll have one shot,’ she said into Roh’s mind, then nodded to Finn. ‘I’ll get him back to Saddoriel. Go.’
There was no time to ask why or how, and Roh didn’t really care. All she cared about was the delicate cooling sensation of Odi’s shell token around her neck. With a final glance at the two injured highborns, she left the cave. And, strapping the crossbow over her back, the isruhe of Saddoriel kicked her feet through the current and began hunting the sea serpent.
Roh followed the fresh scent of death from the whale carcass. It clung to the sea serpent’s trail and left ribbons of blood in its wake. On she swam, careful not to get too close, careful n
ot to let her own scent drift too far ahead. As she manipulated the currents around her, willing them to pull her through the waters faster, she couldn’t help but revel in the power at her fingertips. The sea became deeper and darker as she pressed on, the waters swirling around her, dancing to their own rhythm, playing in their own orchestra. Orchestra. Odi had taught her that word. An ensemble of instrumentalists. It seemed to suit the sea as well. With Odi’s lessons on her lips, Roh realised she was running out of time. The shell token against her skin wasn’t even lukewarm anymore, and little by little, the coolness grew stronger. How high is the water in Odi’s tank now? Up to his hips? His waist? Her thoughts began to spiral. Even if she did somehow manage to follow the creature and retrieve a scale, she still had to find her way back to Saddoriel, back to Odi. Would there be enough time? Roh forced herself to swallow the rising panic. It would do her no good here.
As she swam, powering her way through the dragging tides, the efforts of Finn and Yrsa were fresh and despairing in her mind. If she approached the beast in the same way, she would fare no better, likely worse. Now that the serpent was angered and suspicious, if it caught her, she would die. She had to do things differently, but how? She pictured the beast carving through the water, the much larger ancestor to the serpent pets back in the lair, leisurely wrapped around the arms of council elders, or coiled about Yrsa’s ankles, or hissing at Roh in Queen Delja’s private chambers, sizing her up with molten-gold eyes.
‘The whole time, that damn viper of hers watched me …’ Odi’s voice filled her head. ‘It’s disgusting, Roh, shedding its skin everywhere.’
As the sea caressed Roh’s skin, the seed of an idea formed.
Further and further out to sea she swam, trailing the scent of blood and death through the ever-changing tides. She clutched Odi’s token to her chest. It had definitely grown cooler. How much longer did they have? If she turned back now, could she save him? But how? Once again, Roh allowed herself to taste salt to steel herself. She was their best chance. She had to push on, to achieve what she’d set out to do. To find the serpent. To not let Odi, or herself, down. Both their lives were in her hands.
The scent was getting stronger, the whale and serpent blood entwined with a path of tiny air pockets in the water. Around her, the temperature was suddenly colder. She slowed as she caught sight of the seabed, where the dead whale had been discarded. But there was no sign of the serpent … Roh’s bare feet touched the sandy floor and it shifted beneath her soles, sending sparkling granules of sand floating up before her face, getting caught in the current and drifting away. Cautiously, she put one foot in front of the other and passed the whale carcass, scanning her surroundings, heart in her throat. Spotting the line of tiny bubbles, Roh followed it to an opening in a massive rockface, where light glowed within.
A nest … She couldn’t stop the tremors that racked her body. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but this … There was no way she could enter a sea serpent’s nest undetected. And any moment, it might come back for its meal. It was absolutely impossible. The creature also now knew the scent of her kind and no doubt associated it with danger and pain. Roh looked around frantically, her fear latching onto the ever-cooling token at her chest. Again, visions of Odi flashed before her – this time in her mind he struggled to keep his head above the water inching up his chin, but he was weighed down with stones tied to his ankles.
Roh’s eyes fell to a particularly muddy part of the sand bank. No, it wasn’t mud … It was clay, a thick and heavy deposit of it amidst the sand. Dropping the crossbow from her shoulder, Roh knelt on the sea floor, and scooped up great handfuls of the substance. She covered herself from head to toe in it, smoothing it over her skin and running it through her hair. It masked any scent that clung to her, any foreign odour that the creature could detect in its nest. It was better than any shield. She had made herself invisible. Palming her dagger and leaving the crossbow behind, Roh entered the serpent’s territory.
Something deeper inside illuminated the mouth of the cavern. At first, it looked like a simple cave, a burrow within the jagged seabed rocks. But as Roh moved further inside, she gasped. Reefs upon reefs of coral glowed against the boulders and stone in an array of colours. Bronze staghorn, its antler-like arms brushing against the branches of rose-pink tree coral, blue algae blooming between them. Tiny star-shaped leaves radiated a soft green hue, while sunburst florals pulsed orange. It was astounding, a botanical garden, flourishing at the seat of the sea’s true ruler.
Roh continued to creep further inside the nest, her chest tight and breathing shallow. Trapped in a confined space at the mercy of a sea serpent was no place she wanted to be. If she was detected now, she was dead. She stepped carefully, tiptoeing around the various shoots of coral and algae. Until something glimmering snagged her attention. She paused, her gaze drawn to her feet, where flecks of pale gold were scattered sparsely across the ground as she approached the heart of the nest. Scales.
Mouth agape in disbelief, Roh crouched, tracing the face of one with her fingertips. It was smooth. Her magic still snatching the air from the water, she picked it up, turning it over in her hands.
It’s heavy, was her first thought. Then, she marvelled at its colour. The purest of pale gold, similar to the gold of her circlet. Curious, that the same colour could mark both a feared, powerful creature and a vermin of the deep.
Roh stared at her prize. I’m holding the scale of a sea serpent … Disbelief coursed through her. Never in her darkest, wildest dreams had she imagined herself here. Everything she had done to get here flashed before her eyes, from planting her deck of cards in the game of Thieves and setting bone-splinter traps, to travelling to the edge of Talon’s Reach and now this … She gaped in wonder at the scale glimmering between her talons a moment longer, before she at last slipped it into her satchel. It was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, but she did not allow premature relief to rush through her just yet. She turned on her heels, looking to the exit. Now she had to get away from here as fast as possible. She had to channel the seas with everything she had to return to Saddoriel, to claim the crown, to save her human.
But as Roh made to leave, the contents of a small side passage caught her eye. She stopped short, nearly losing her balance. It can’t be …
Roh blinked, her thoughts slowly bringing the pieces together, picturing the barb protruding from Finn’s abdomen that marked the serpent they’d seen as a male … But what she saw now … This was not the nest of a male sea serpent …
For beyond the threshold, was an alcove and inside it … was something else entirely.
With the loaded crossbow strapped to her once more, Roh swam from the nest with lightning speed, not even glancing over her shoulder as she powered through the water, racing towards Saddoriel. The shell token pressing against her sternum was far cooler than before and she couldn’t help the surge of panic that rushed through her. She could not have come this far, only to fail now. She kicked through the currents with all her might, willing the rhythm of the sea to help her back to the cyren lair. She imagined hearing notes of music, calling out to her like a torch in the night as she manipulated the dark waters and the ever-lapping tides. She was running out of time. Odi was running out of time —
An ear-piercing screech curdled Roh’s insides and forced her to falter. Her hands shot to her ears to block out the agonising sound as a powerful swell surged through the current around her. Thick dread filled Roh. She knew what she had done, what she had set in motion. Heart pounding, she dared to look back. The sea serpent was in pursuit, only —
It felt as though she’d left her insides behind as she raced through the water, the horrific realisation finally dawning on her. Giant shadows cast either side of her across the sea floor, darkening the turquoise hues once more to almost complete black, blocking out any glimmer of drifting sand.
Wings.
It was not a sea serpent, but its female counterpart. Stronger, mor
e powerful and even deadlier, with its legs tucked under and its great wings outstretched.
A sea drake. The true queen of the sea.
A soft cry of terror escaped Roh then, salt water finding its way into her lungs in her panic, blood pounding in her ears as she swam and swam, darting left and right and up and down. But these small manoeuvres meant nothing to the giant creature who covered great distances with a single beat of its wings. Roh churned the waters behind her, attempting to distract and slow the formidable beast.
It knows what I’ve taken … What have I done? The question was a hot brand on her mind as she shot through the water. She had been in the drake’s nest, had seen what it prized above all else. It knew her now. The clay had peeled away from her and she was like a beacon in the darkness, calling out to the creature with her terror-drenched scent. The dagger in her boot would do nothing to penetrate those fierce golden scales, nor would a single bolt from the crossbow strapped to her back. This was how she would die. The sea that had bent to her will before was barely manageable in the presence of such an ancient, powerful creature, but still Roh tried. She flicked her wrist behind her, a whirlpool of water and sand whipping into action, blocking her from sight, but the drake shot straight through it with a roar.
Faster, Roh urged herself, faster. She dropped the coil of rope she’d kept strapped around her chest, not stopping to watch it float to the seafloor or be gnashed between the drake’s fangs. Roh kicked, gripped by a terror unlike anything she’d known before. She cut through the sea like a hot blade, using anything and everything she could to slow the beast: masses of tangled seaweed, a volley of coral shards from the seabed … Between the roars of the drake charging after her, she heard the first faint notes of music. She dived down, weaving through the narrow gaps between coral and kelp, but the drake simply crashed through them, tearing the beauty of the seabed apart in its raging pursuit.
A Lair of Bones Page 32
