All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth Duology)

by Adalyn Grace

  “I’m so sorry you went through this,” I tell her. “You should be free to travel wherever you’d like without worry. If you’d like to see more of the kingdom, Bastian and I will get you wherever you want to go once this is all over. I could even escort you back to Arida myself, if you’d like? It’s beautiful there—waterfalls, red sand, and almost all the plants glow at night. The gardens there are one of the most beautiful places you’ll ever see…” My words trail off as my mind starts to linger on Arida and all that’s happening back home.

  I always wanted to sail, and I love it even more than I thought I would. But gods, I miss my family.

  Are my parents worried about me? How is Yuriel dealing with everything? And what do my people think of me now—am I not only a monster to them, but also a traitor for fleeing?

  Vataea leans back on her hands, sporting a soft smile. “You’re not the first to tell me of its beauty. So long as you can promise that it will come with plenty of royal perks, I suppose I wouldn’t mind a trip to Arida. It must be quite the place, if you miss it so much. You’ll have to promise to show me around.”

  “I’d be happy to,” I tell her, trying to ignore the weight of her words as they fight to burrow into my skin. All my life I’ve wanted to journey from Arida. And as much as I love the ocean, I can’t help but miss my parents. My home. Gods, even my bed.

  “Arida is an amazing place,” I admit, swallowing down my longing. “But I can’t go back there, yet. Kaven isn’t the only threat to Visidia. If I can’t figure out a way to earn back the trust of my people, Visidia will be in danger.”

  “So you made a deal with a pirate for help?” she snorts. “He might be charming, but you don’t strike me as someone so easily lured.”

  “He was the best option I had,” I argue, quietly, “Do you really think Bastian’s charming?”

  “Of course he is!” Vataea’s laugh throws me off guard. I sink into the sound, chest warming. I can’t remember the last time I was able to just sit and chat with another girl. Growing up in Arida, my closest friends were Casem and Mira. While I care deeply for them both, the fact that everyone who lives on that island is employed by my family isn’t lost on me.

  I never knew how much I wanted this—how much I was missing it—until now.

  “You must think he’s charming as well,” Vataea teases. “Otherwise you would have drowned the poor boy.”

  I’ve no control over the strange face I make at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You think a mermaid’s enchantment can really be broken so easily?” Vataea angles herself toward me, laughing. “The kiss only works if the enchanted one has romantic feelings toward the person who kisses them. I figured you’d snap one of them out of it if you were lucky. You are far luckier than I thought.”

  I lean back on my hands. After our kiss, Bastian said he’d been thinking of Vataea, not me. But I broke his enchantment all the same.

  The pirate is a dirty liar.

  “It was a gamble,” I say. “You expected one of them to follow you.”

  Though Vataea presses her lips together, the expression she wears is smug. I was right to think she’s dangerous.

  “I would’ve brought him back to the boat once I was finished,” she says coyly. “Or tried to. Call it a calculated risk.” She’s as confident in her actions as I am lucky.

  It’s so easy to like Vataea, but if legends are true, she’s the most dangerous one on this ship. I’ll have to remember this the next time I decide to blindly follow her instructions.

  “I want you to know that I truly appreciate you helping us,” I tell her, because I see the longing in her as she stares out at the sea, raw and palpable. Vataea doesn’t need a ship to travel; she could swim to any of the islands in half the time it would take Keel Haul. And yet here she remains, agreeing to help the same people who have destroyed her home and family. “I’ll pay you however much you need for your travels, of course, but know that we would have helped free you from Blarthe regardless of your decision to help us.”

  A thin smile crosses her lips. “My kind have been hunted since long before I was born. My mother was killed by poachers, and many of my sisters suffered a similar fate, stolen for our scales or for our bodies. This is no new problem, but your father was the first to recognize us as members of Visidia. He gave us his protection when no one else seemed to care.” She brushes her fingers along one of the figurehead’s barnacles, chest heaving with a sigh. “It’s not about the money; you are his daughter, and you need help only I can provide. I know what that’s like. A mermaid remembers those she’s indebted to, and she always repays.”

  My chest warms, disregarding the cool air on my skin. I’m glad to know that, at the very least, Father has done well by these people. That there’s at least one person who still loves their king.

  “That said,” Vataea continues, her lips stretching into a wicked grin, “I’ll certainly be taking the money. I’ve places to go and plenty of food to try, after all.”

  I laugh, about to ask more about her home and the place she most wants to visit when a squelching noise pierces the silence and something in the water causes the ship to jerk violently to the side. I grab on to the rail to steady myself, but Vataea has nothing but the figurehead to cling to. She gasps, trying to dig her nails into the rough barnacles as the ship rocks again. Keel Haul groans through its masts as it fights against a sea that was perfectly fine only moments before.

  One look at the horizon shows the waters are tame everywhere but beneath Keel Haul. The noise grows louder; it’s like the base of a waterfall, vicious and thrashing. But there’s no waterfall in sight.

  “Hang on!” I yell as Vataea grips the figurehead as tightly as possible, struggling not to slip. I stretch over the bow, reaching until my arms ache, but there’s too much space between us. Without risking a fall, I can’t grab her.

  But I do see the source of the noise. Directly below, a whirlpool eats away at Keel Haul, hungrily chomping into the wood and attempting to devour it whole. It rattles the entire ship as Keel Haul tries to fight its way free, knocking Vataea further off balance. Water splashes onto the deck and her fingers glisten with dampness, more slippery by the second.

  A door slams behind me and I look to see Ferrick hurrying out, wide-eyed and searching. When he spots me at the bow, he rushes forward, likely ready to drag me away until he spots Vataea struggling to hang on.

  “Get back!” He nudges me aside and leans his longer body over the ledge, but it’s no use. Vataea’s hold slips as Keel Haul teeters and thrashes in the water. I lunge for her again, but her fingers brush through mine as her head smacks against the figurehead. I feel her phantom touch on my skin as her body hits the waves with a splash that sounds as terrible as the screeching behind us.

  I stumble back, shaking, to find Bastian frozen behind me. There’s another screech—more like a garbled wail—and I follow his terrified stare.

  I will my heart to stop. If it stops now, then I won’t have to know what happens next.

  I thought Zudoh would be the scariest part of my travels, but I was wrong.

  The Lusca is far, far worse.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The beast that bursts from the water is the color of ink and moonlight. The stars catch its scales, turning them silver as it roars. I double over, covering my ears from the shriek of what sounds like metal grating against metal. Even in the worst of my nightmares, I’d never be able to imagine such a wretched sound.

  The Lusca. The legends of this beast have traveled through word of mouth, told to scare disobedient children. But no one has ever been able to prove its existence.

  Probably because no one has survived to tell the tale.

  The creature has eight inky tentacles with sharp, jagged hooks. Its body is that of a leech, giant and round, with a permanently open mouth it whines from. Several rows of bloodstained teeth fill that mouth, with bits of fish and squid dangling from them. I imagine our bodies will be the one
s dangling there, soon.

  “Where are the others?” Bastian gasps. The question hitches in his throat.

  “Vataea fell into the water.” My voice shakes as I remember the horrible crack of her head hitting the figurehead. But given her gills, it’s not her drowning that I’m worried about. “We need to get her out of there before the Lusca sees her! Ferrick and I tried to—” I make a motion toward Ferrick, but he’s no longer in my periphery. My heartbeat triples as I spin around, but he’s gone. Only when I lean over the bow do I spot his red hair in the sea below as he struggles to break out of the shrinking whirlpool.

  “You idiot,” I hiss at the water.

  Bastian presses a hand to his chest as he watches the beast. He’s shaky, body swaying as Keel Haul makes a final push to break from the water imprisoning her. Only when she steadies does Bastian suck in a relieved breath and draw his sword. It looks useless against this giant beast. Laughable.

  “You want to fight it?”

  “What else are we supposed to do?” he rasps. “Keel Haul’s fast, but there’s no way we’re going to outrun this … thing.”

  “The Lusca,” I say. I know in my bones this is the creature of the legends.

  Bastian’s face hardens, but he doesn’t disagree. Everyone knows the stories.

  “Ferrick jumped in?” he asks.

  I nod, chest tightening when I hear the words aloud. Ferrick’s a selfless fool for jumping after Vataea, and he’s a selfish fool if he thinks he can die when our last words to each other were so cruel.

  But I won’t let him die. Not tonight.

  “If we can’t run, we need to drop anchor so they can get back up.” The ship rocks too fiercely, jerking as though it’s stuck in the eye of a storm. We need to steady it.

  “Drop it, then,” Bastian says. “I’ll keep the beast busy.”

  Without a second glance, I dash to the cathead. There’s no time to drop the two bower anchors, and they’ll take too long to haul up if we need to make a quick escape. Instead, I unfasten the stopper and let the main anchor drop. I toss the ladder for them to climb, but neither Ferrick nor Vataea is in sight.

  The Lusca screeches until every hair on my body stands. Ten red, spider-like eyes stare at us from around its oversize mouth. It could easily swallow ten dinghies at once, but Keel Haul is thankfully barely too large to swallow whole.

  The monster spots Bastian as the pirate’s sword catches the glow of the moon. He holds it in front of him, as though the thin blade will be able to do anything against a sea monster.

  The Lusca lashes out with one of its hooked tentacles. Bastian dives out of the way, raising his sword just in time to counter. He gets in one solid gash before the monster snarls and withdraws its massive tentacle. The sound rattles the ship and forces me to cover my ears again. They burn as though they’re about to bleed.

  As the Lusca draws back, its tentacle knocks into Keel Haul’s helm and scrapes against the wood. It must hit Bastian too, because he stumbles back as if struck. He tucks his left hand around his stomach and struggles for breath.

  I rush to his side and put my arms on his shoulders to steady him. “Are you all right?” His chest rises and falls as he regains his breath.

  “I’m fine,” he grunts. “Find Ferrick and Vataea. Get them back on the shi—”

  The Lusca’s no longer looking at us. One at a time it blinks its beady red eyes toward the left, and I run to the bow to see what it’s spotted.

  There’s no hiding Ferrick’s red hair in the silver water. He’s a flame in the middle of the sea, and Vataea’s shimmering rose-gold fin isn’t helping.

  The mermaid’s head is down, limp. Ferrick has her over his left shoulder. There might not be a whirlpool anymore, but the waves crash angrily against Keel Haul, strong enough to sway the heavy ship. They slow Ferrick. His head bobs in and out of the water as he struggles to swim forward, dragging Vataea with him.

  “I dropped the ladder!” I yell. “Hurry!”

  But the Lusca’s already seen him. Its throat opens and its teeth wriggle excitedly, each like a dead squid with a pointed tip that drips black poison.

  When it lashes its tentacles toward Ferrick, I scream for Bastian. “We need to do something!” Though I’ve no idea what that could be.

  Ferrick hugs Vataea close and ducks beneath the water before the tentacles strike. The Lusca roars and draws back for another shot.

  Bastian sprints toward the edge of the ship closest to the Lusca. He raises his sword above his head and waves it in the air, trying to draw the beast’s attention.

  It works. All ten eyes are drawn to the shiny sword before they sink down to the man holding it. Bastian’s stone-faced and ready to go again.

  “I assure you, I taste better than the guppies in the water.” There’s an edge in his voice. “Come and get a taste.”

  The monster lurches forward and Bastian stabs at it again. The tentacles are thick and goopy; they catch the blade, but are too thick to slice through. Its inky blood pours from the tentacle and stains Bastian’s cheeks and hands. He rips his sword back with a grunt, dissatisfied he’s done nothing.

  Except, he hasn’t done nothing. He’s given me an idea.

  I need the Lusca’s blood. Or, better yet, its tentacle.

  “What are you doing?” Bastian yells as I throw myself from the bow and run toward the Lusca. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

  “Distract it!” I grip the rigging and hoist myself onto the slippery ropes, beginning to climb aloft toward the mast. The Lusca’s attention is still fixed on Bastian. It lifts three tentacles into the air and slams them down into Keel Haul.

  Bastian’s sent flying, his head smacking against the ship. Keel Haul roars as the Lusca sinks its tentacles into the ship, dragging it forward.

  I wrap my wrist in the rope and swing myself so I face the beast. I unsheathe my dagger and hold it close as the ship tilts and the rigging hovers above the Lusca.

  This creature is extraordinary; something of legends. If I want to beat it, then I’m going to need to be extraordinary, too.

  I ready my dagger, send a quick prayer to the gods, and throw myself from the rigging. I hit the monster’s thick skin with a smack that knocks the air from my lungs. Bastian yells something behind me, but I can no longer make out his words.

  The beast is slippery, with skin like a whale. There are notches and grooves in its back from where other creatures have torn chunks from its skin, and I dig my heel into one of those grooves to steady myself. The Lusca roars.

  None of its ten eyes can move upward. They’re fixed in a circle around its mouth, unable to see me. Even so, it lashes one of its tentacles at me and roars when it instead strikes its own back.

  I dig my heel farther into the beast’s back and fall to all fours as it thrashes. My nails scramble for purchase in any groove they can find, and I struggle to work my way out of my left boot. From the corner of my eye I catch a flash of red. Ferrick’s making his way around the ship, toward the ropes.

  Bastian turns to help him, but the Lusca seizes up and throws two of its slimy tentacles in the air. They hammer onto Keel Haul, hooks tearing at the wood. When I squint through the haze of the mist I see Bastian grab at his chest. His strangled choking fills the air.

  When the Lusca raises another tentacle, I drive my dagger into its back and finally kick my foot out of its boot. I scramble back to my feet, but without the traction from my soles, the Lusca’s skin is even more slick and slippery as it flails.

  I dig my toes into what I can, desperate for what’s inside that boot.

  Beneath my stockings and wedged beneath a thin layer of canvas lies the cursed necklace I stole from Mornute. I’ve been careful to keep it from touching my skin, saving it for a time where it might come in handy.

  One brush of my skin against the necklace and we’re done for. But if I can slip this onto the Lusca …

  One of its tentacles finally finds me. It knocks me off balance; I start to s
lip off its back, but grind my blade into the flesh on its side and hang on to the hilt. The Lusca’s wails are deafening.

  Bastian leans over the opposite side of the ship, helping Ferrick and Vataea up the ladder. His back is turned away from the Lusca, trusting me to handle this beast alone. I can’t let these three down.

  I lift my free boot and bite down on the lip of it, clenching the leather between my teeth so I can use both hands to drag myself back up onto the Lusca’s back, thankful for its massive size only this once. I keep on all fours and clench the hilt of my dagger until I catch my balance against the Lusca’s slimy skin. The beast struggles against my movements, tentacles thrashing. One of its hooked barbs finds my back and pierces through my skin. I scream against the searing burn as thousands of black dots fight to steal my vision.

  But I don’t let them take it from me. I jerk my blade from the beast’s flesh as it readies another tentacle. Pulling myself up, I drop my boot back into my hands and shakily attempt to brace myself.

  My chest is tight; every breath fills my lungs with fire.

  Poison. The Lusca’s barbed tentacles seep with poison.

  My hands are no longer my own. They’re ghostly and foreign. I see them move as I hold my boot, but the spreading poison makes it feel like they belong to someone else.

  Water rains down on me, and through my haze, I slowly look up. The Lusca has every tentacle lifted, curved and ready to strike down on its own back. On me.

  My hands are unsteady, but I grip my boot tightly, and though the world blurs and darkens around me, I shake the fog from my vision and wait. There’s only one chance to get this right.

  I wait until the Lusca roars, confident enough to strike down with its full force.

  I wait until one tentacle strikes my back again, and until another nearly slams into my face, going for the kill. The moment before it hits, I grit through the pain and throw my hands up, capturing its tentacle in my boot.