by Jayne Faith
But something abruptly cut off the pillar of water that held me aloft. I’d run aground onto Black Rock.
The water that had supported me began to collapse, and I with it.
With a shriek, I tumbled down and landed painfully on the rocky land of the island. One hip and shoulder took the brunt of the impact, with the side of my head also smacking painfully. Pain lanced through my arm. Stars danced in my vision and my consciousness greyed.
No, I couldn’t pass out. I blinked hard, fighting to stay alert. I could already make out the hissing of the hungry perenties as the water that had splashed down with me drained away, back into the sea. Dizzy, I pushed myself up, praying that I hadn’t snapped my collarbone. It still seemed intact, but I’d definitely pulled something in my shoulder.
Staggering to my feet, I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that crowded into my brain. I blinked, struggling to make out the approaching creatures. Their hissing was growing louder, and I could hear the scratching of their claws across rock.
I looked back over my shoulder. The serpent was still out there, swimming in a tight, agitated circle just offshore.
Facing the perenties again, I quickly counted a dozen of them before my panicked brain lost track. The neon blue bioluminescence of the sea serpent reflected faintly in their reptilian eyes. If they attacked, I’d be ripped to shreds in seconds.
I reached for magic, and nearly vomited. My head pounded. I was tapped out.
Death before me and death awaiting me in the sea. Some choice I had.
The perenties were advancing, and more of them were gathering. I carefully stepped backward toward the water, moving until I was knee-deep. They kept coming, but seemed hesitant about the ocean.
The touch of the water on my bare legs brought me a tiny measure of comfort, despite the huge creature that lurked only a few yards away in deeper water. Shivering in the chilly air, I drew a deep breath, trying to settle my nerves.
One of the perenties moved ahead of the pack, carefully picking its way down to the waterline. I took a few more steps backward, until the water was up to my waist. The oversized lizard stared at me, hissing and moving its head side to side in twitchy movements. But it didn’t reach even a nail past the water line.
I slowly filled my lungs again, and glanced back to make sure the serpent wasn’t trying to creep up on me. It was much too large to come into the shallow water where I stood and would risk beaching itself if it tried to attack me here.
I shivered again, and wrapped my arms around my bare upper body. For the moment, it appeared I was safe. Safe, but very much stuck.
I stared into the water, noticing a faint green sheen. It appeared my battle with the serpent had stirred up a large cloud of luminescent plankton. They glowed like watery fairy dust, pulsing delicately in wave-like patterns.
Black Rock wasn’t an option. I couldn’t fight the perenties, and I’d freeze if I had to stay on the island anyway.
What I sought was in the ocean. In the sea serpent itself. But I needed help.
I reached out with my magical senses, starting just a few feet out and probing along the sea floor. I couldn’t command magic after expending so much energy, but I could still use my awareness to explore. My senses flitted over small creatures, rocks, and—there. Something large and solid. I squinted, trying to discern what it was.
There was something familiar about its lines. Then it hit me—it was the wreckage of a small enclosed fishing boat. My breath came quicker. Surely there was something useful there. An idea began to form. I could use the boat as a sort of cage of safety. If I lured the serpent into biting it, I might have a chance of dislodging another venom-filled tooth. But I’d need air so I could stay under a while.
Tentatively, I reached for my magic. The center of my forehead throbbed, but it was less painful than before. I just needed a bit of power. Enough to force a bubble of air down into the water with me to allow me to stay under longer.
I began wading deeper, stepping carefully until the water rose high enough and I had to push off and swim. The moon, nearly full, had risen. Between that, the plankton, and the flashing neon spine of the serpent, I might have enough light to see what I was doing.
The sea snake had noticed my movements. The two glowing eyes rose, and the upper part of the head just breached the surface, resting there like a crocodile waiting to strike and snap up its prey. The creature seemed to be awaiting my next move.
I swam until the wreckage was directly below me, maybe a dozen feet down.
Treading in the gently lit sea, I pulled magic. Instead of sending water up into the air as I had before with the pillar, now I needed to do the reverse: push the water aside to allow a pocket of air to follow me down.
I sucked in a lungful of air for good measure, and then stopped treading, flipped head down, and began swimming for the sunken boat. At the same time, I focused on parting the water at the surface to create an air space. The pressure of the water fought my efforts, and I silently swore as the sea squashed my air bubble before I could properly train the water around it.
The salt stung my eyes as I looked around to orient myself. The serpent was headed straight for me, its glowing eyes leading the way. My lungs ached with the need to inhale, and my heart pounded, using up my air even faster.
This wasn’t working. I wasn’t getting my pocket of air to form, and I only had a matter of seconds before I’d have to surface to breathe. But the serpent would kill me before the ocean would.
I turned frantically, searching for anything that might help.
There! A long fishing spear with a wicked barb on the end. I swam over and grabbed it just as the serpent’s mouth began to stretch wide.
My lungs throbbed as my body begged me to suck in a breath, but I couldn’t go up for air yet.
I rose a bit, just barely clear of the boat, and pointed the spear at the oncoming monster. I had to hit a vulnerable spot—an eye, or the nose—or this would fail.
But with the mouth stretching wide open, the angle was wrong. I shifted the spear in my hands, now hoping to jam it into the roof of the serpent’s mouth. A split second miss in the timing, and I’d get sucked in. Too deep a jab, and I’d hit the brain and kill the creature.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion, the yawning maw growing bigger and bigger, and then taking up my whole field of vision.
I braced my feet against one side of the boat, and lifted the spear.
Oh God, so many teeth.
I squeezed my eyes closed and rammed the spear upward. It hit and plunged into something solid, broke through, and gave into flesh.
The creature jerked and flailed. I was flying up out of the water and through air. My searing lungs sucked in a grateful gulp before I landed back in the water. I was near Black Rock again, in water barely over my head.
The serpent had breached, and I’d caught a glimpse of the spear sticking out of its throat.
Suddenly, the back of my own throat was filled with piercing agony. I screamed and clamped my hands over it. Coughing and gagging, I tried to clear whatever was causing such pain. But there was nothing there.
I cracked my eyelids open, realizing it wasn’t my throat that hurt. I was feeling the serpent’s pain. I watched it thrash in the deeper water and realized I felt its panic, too.
“I can help you,” I whispered. “But I need something in return.”
The creature’s movements slowed, and then stilled. Low vibrations cut through the water, like it was moaning.
I reached out with my magical senses, trying to convey that I would remove the spear, and that I needed some venom. And, oh yeah, I needed the monster to not kill me.
“Do you understand? Rise to the surface and stay there if you do.”
With my heart in my throat, I watched as the huge creature’s head came up through the water until the snout and glowing eyes showed above the surface.
I stared dumbly for a second, then flipped and dove. From the rocky bottom, I gr
abbed and empty clamshell, the only venom collection vessel I could think to use.
With the shell clutched in my hand, I began kicking out toward the sea serpent.
Chapter 11
THE WHOLE WAY out, I fought the instincts that screamed at me to turn around and get as far away from the serpent as possible. My breath grew quick and shallow as I tried to keep my swelling panic under control.
I thought of the snake in the courtyard, the way it had danced with me. This was just a much bigger—and viciously toothy and venomous—version of that little garden snake. And this one was in pain and needed my help. It seemed to understand that. In fact, it seemed plenty intelligent enough to know that its agony would continue if it didn’t allow me to pull the spear out.
The creature’s low moans were still vibrating through the water, coming and going in waves of sound that rippled over my bare skin.
When I got about a dozen feet away from the serpent’s nose, I stopped swimming and faced it, treading water. Only a little flick of its tail to propel it forward, and one good crunch of its teeth, and I’d be dead.
As ridiculous as it might appear, given the situation, I had to maintain my authority.
“Listen. We’re going to make a trade, and God help me if you go back on your end, I will rip your eye out with my bare hands or die trying,” I called. My tone was crisp and no-nonsense, the one I used when one of my girls got in trouble at school. “I’ll take out the spear. In return, I need a bit of your venom, and I need you to refrain from harming me. I have this to collect the venom.” I held up the clamshell.
The two glowing eyes went dark and then re-illuminated, as if the serpent had blinked. I took that as I sign that the creature understood me. In truth, I didn’t need outward signs. I could sense its emotions, physical pain, and even the gist of its thoughts.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to come up to you now. You’ll have to open your mouth so I can grab hold of the spear. Remember—no teeth!”
I kicked forward. As I approached, the serpent’s mouth opened and its long, forked tongue extended toward me, almost like a ready-made ramp. By the light of the bioluminescence flashing down its spine, I saw that the spear had stabbed into the roof of its mouth at a shallow angle.
I swallowed hard and reached out to touch the serpent’s tongue. It was lightly textured, much smoother than a human tongue, and I could feel the muscle under the skin. With my pulse racing, I climbed up onto it, still clutching the clamshell. I crouched to keep from slipping and also to avoid accidentally touching the sharp rows of teeth on either side of me.
I set the clamshell down so I could grasp the shaft of the spear with both hands. Wincing in anticipation of the pain I was about to cause the creature, I leaned back, trying to use my weight to dislodge the barbed end. The serpent’s moan grew more resonant, but to its credit it kept still. Unfortunately, the spear didn’t budge.
I swore under my breath. The business end of the spear was designed to stay stuck. This was going to get ugly.
“I’m sorry,” I called. “But I’m afraid this is going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”
Bracing my feet against the creature’s smooth tongue the best I could, I gripped the spear more firmly. On a silent count of three, I heaved back with all my strength.
The serpent’s moan rose in pitch, turning into a wail. The barbs began to give, tearing flesh as they backed out of the wound.
I pulled harder, straining every muscle in my effort. All of a sudden, the spear was free. I lost my balance, stumbling backward and trying to keep my footing on the slippery surface of the creature’s tongue. But I lost the battle against momentum and gravity, and pitched back and to the left.
I had a split second to scream a brief curse of frustration. I tried to curl out of the way of the pointed teeth, but I couldn’t stop my trajectory. Pain seared across my left shoulder blade as a razor-tipped tooth tore into my flesh. There was the sting of salt in the wound, and then the kiss of venom. Agony for a split second, but then numbness began to take hold.
The spear tumbled from my hands as I lost control of my muscles. I sagged into a heap, still inside the serpent’s mouth.
I’d failed. I’d been so close, but one slip had botched things, and now I was going to die for my mistake.
Darkness crowded in, and I lost consciousness.
Chapter 12
WHEN I CRACKED my eyelids open and saw Lorenzo’s face hovering above me, my first thought was that he must have found another way to break the curse of the Watchtower, he’d been set free, and we’d both ended up in Heaven.
Then he smacked my cheek with his open palm. At that, I figured I must still be alive, because I couldn’t imagine it was proper for angels to go around slapping women in Heaven. The urge to punch him in the nose rose up through me, but for some reason I couldn’t get my arm to obey my wish.
“Wake up!” he said sharply.
The idiot, couldn’t he see I was awake?
His entire body glowed with that ethereal light I’d seen before, and—oh! The wings. Those beautiful, cascading wings.
“Victoria!”
He drew his hand back again, snapping my attention away from his wings, and I finally found a bit of strength. I raised my arm to block his strike.
“Stop hitting me, you arse!” I said. The words came out garbled, but he must have gotten the message.
He lowered his arm, and then grabbed me by the shoulders, lifting my upper body from the ground so he could embrace me.
Oh shells, I was still completely naked.
“Get off me,” I said irritably. Feeling was beginning to return throughout my body. The back of my left shoulder screamed as if it had been stung by a swarm of wasps. My head felt like a thunderstorm was raging in my brain. And every muscle ached. “Where the hell are my clothes?”
“Oh—farking, damn—sorry, I wasn’t trying to . . .” He let go and backed away, flustered and still cursing and muttering. But at least he found my clothes.
Averting his eyes, he held out the bundle of fabric, his wings now gone. I took the clothes and looked around. I was back on the cliff overlooking the estuary. I could see the outline of Black Rock by the light of the moon. I gasped as a neon blue-green stripe blinked on and off just past the opening of the estuary.
“How did I get back here?” I asked, watching the sea serpent weave figure eights out in the open sea.
Lorenzo had turned his back to give me privacy. He flipped a glance out at the sea serpent. “That thing brought you back. Carried you in its damn mouth. Just about beached itself lifting you up here, and probably scratched its hide all to hell getting past the reef down there.”
My mouth dropped open. The sea serpent had saved me?
I stood there, blinking. “But I hit its teeth. The venom. . . I should be dead.”
I forced my aching muscles to move and began painstakingly pulling on my clothes over my salt-sticky skin.
“I had to employ a bit of my own power to make sure that didn’t happen,” Lorenzo said. His words were light, but I got the sense that whatever he’d done to save me had been profound. A miracle, maybe.
“Oh. Well, thanks for that,” I said. “But I didn’t get the venom.”
“You got plenty of venom.” He snorted a laugh. “Witch, you were chock-full of the farking stuff.”
I paused, my fingers on the buttons of my dress.
“I took a bit of your blood.” He pointed at something on the ground. It was the clamshell, and indeed it appeared there was some dark liquid in it.
I narrowed my eyes at his back. “So, you took your sweet time bleeding me, and then revived me?”
He turned to face me and planted his hands on his hips. “Don’t be dramatic. You’re standing here quite fine and alive, aren’t you?”
I couldn’t really argue.
“I collected blood from the slash on your back,” he said, softening. “At the same time, I was working to bring you back to
life. Give me some credit, why don’t you. I wouldn’t just fiddle around here bleeding a corpse.”
I shuddered at the implication that I’d been dead, even if only for a moment. Inhaling a sharp breath through my nose, I tried to clear my head of those thoughts.
I arched a brow at him, even though he probably couldn’t see my expression in the dark. “Fine work, then.” I nodded my approval.
He shook his head. “You were gone for so long, and I saw all the thrashing of that sea monster, I thought for sure you weren’t coming back.”
The memory of the whole ordeal began to creep back. I cast my gaze out at the sea serpent, and reached toward it with my senses. I realized it was worried. It had been waiting for my reassurance.
Walking a few steps toward the edge that faced the open sea, I raised my hand in the air in a sort of wave.
“I’m okay,” I called. “Thank you for bringing me home.”
Its agitated swimming calmed. The creature breached the surface, and then splashed down and turned to swim toward Black Rock. Its relief flowed to me.
“You’re friends with the thing, now, eh?”
I looked over my shoulder at Lorenzo and gave a short laugh. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. But the serpent didn’t bite me on purpose. I slipped.”
I swayed on my feet as exhaustion hit me like a tidal wave. I passed the back of my hand over my eyes, trying to summon up the energy to make the trek back around the dump, past the Harbor, to town. Home felt about a million miles away. I hoped the girls weren’t worrying about my absence. They probably weren’t. There were many nights I’d been out late, sometimes picking up odd jobs or attending Underground meetings. They were old enough to take care of themselves and each other, getting dinner and putting themselves to bed.
“Hold this, and I’ll carry you back.”
I opened my eyes to see Lorenzo offering the clamshell that held my blood. I tried not to focus too hard on the fact that it looked like it was already fairly congealed. At least it wouldn’t slosh? I looked away as my stomach soured.
