by Kelly, Holly
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Descending
Copyright © 2014 by: Holly Kelly
Edited by: Cynthia Shepp
Cover Design by: Marya Heiman
Typography by: Courtney Nuckels
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address:
Clean Teen Publishing
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The Colony, TX 75056
www.CleanTeenPublishing.com
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Deep inside the belly of the Kraken, Kyros had the beast right where he wanted. Enveloped in blackness, he sank to the floor of the stomach wall and inched his way to the side. Despite the fact that he kept his mouth and gills closed, he could taste the soured and rotten flesh of the beast’s last meal. He tried not to think about the fact he was swimming in vomit.
Lifting his sword, he sprang off the wall. His blade slashed through flesh, organs, and muscle. His tailfin drove him forward, spilling him out into the open sea. The water clouded with blood and stomach fluids. This was not the most appealing way to slay a Kraken, but it was effective—if you avoided the teeth on the way in. Thank the gods Krakens had extremely slow digestion. This would never work with a Leviathan.
Shouts of relief echoed through the sea. The town of Volosus had a new hero. Crowds of fellow Dagonians formed a semicircle of packed bodies pressing forward to get a good look at the dying beast. The colorful tailfins of the females outnumbered the grey fins. They’d lost a lot of males in this sea-monster attack.
The Kraken lay groaning on a bed of crushed homes. The beast’s eyes dimmed as crimson clouds billowed from his wound. His mouth gaped open, his jaw askew. Red wisps of blood flowed out, only to be sucked back in as the creature took his last breaths. Finally, the breathing stopped and bloody tendrils rose around his long, jagged teeth. The beast’s body spanned the entire width of the village—most of which he’d destroyed. If only Kyros had been called earlier. How the village warriors thought to kill this monster themselves was beyond understanding. Even the most skilled of warriors found it difficult to slay a Kraken. Kyros glanced around; the villagers looked haggard, broken.
A rounded Dagonian fluttered his fat, stumpy tail, inching his way through the sea toward Kyros. “Thank you, most honorable warrior.” He smiled, flashing perfect, white teeth framed by a jovial face. “This monster’s been terrorizing us for days. He killed my best soldiers, yet you alone defeated him. Thank you again.”
The Dagonian reached out and offered Kyros his hand. Kyros’s glare stopped him. The man clenched his fist and pulled it back. Clearing his throat, he gave him an apprehensive smile. “I invite you to celebrate with us.” He turned to the crowd. “Men, have your females prepare a feast.”
“Stop! No one move.” Kyros narrowed his eyes at the Dagonian. “And you are…?”
“The mayor—Eleon, son of Demokrates.” He cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding Kyros’s glare.
“Why did you wait days before calling for help?” The venom in Kyros’s voice tainted the water.
“I… uh… we didn’t want to bother you with our problems.”
“You mean—you were too proud to admit you couldn’t handle your problems.” Kyros narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Was it you who finally came to his senses and called me?”
The mayor’s head bobbed up and down.
“That’s a lie.” A shout came from a Dagonian in the crowd. “I called you.” A fit, young soldier swam forward, his hateful glare on the mayor. Other soldiers followed, anger echoed in their faces.
“Who are you?” Kyros asked.
“I’m the spawn of the devil,” he answered.
“Who?”
“He’s Azeus,” the mayor said, frowning, “…my son.”
Kyros approached the young Dagonian, who looked or acted nothing like his father. “Did your father ask you to call me?”
“No, on the contrary, he threatened to disown me if I did. He couldn’t admit he was wrong. Even when his own soldiers were devoured, he insisted he had everything under control.”
“Are there any soldiers left?” Kyros asked.
“Yes, my unit is still alive. My father wouldn’t let me lead them against the beast. I guess he didn’t want to lose his only son. But these unfortunate souls…” He nodded to the stunned survivors. “I guess their family members were expendable.”
“Is this true?” Kyros shouted to the people.” Are there any to collaborate this soldier’s story?” The villagers had fear in their eyes, but several nodded in agreement. None spoke out for the mayor.
Kyros turned to Azeus. “You do understand, as an elite guard, I outrank everyone in this village—including your father.”
“Yes, sir,” the young lad answered.
“I order you to arrest your father and place him in lockdown until trial.”
“No!” the mayor shouted. Azeus’s guards surrounded him. “How could you? Son? Will you betray your own father?”
“You betrayed your people by betraying their trust. You let soldiers die, for your pride’s sake only. I am ashamed to call you father.”
“Azeus, as the mayor’s son,” Kyros continued, “and because you have shown such fierce devotion to this village, I hereby appoint you mayor in your father’s stead. You will remain in position until such a time as elections can be held. Do you accept my appointment?”
Any doubt Kyros might have had appointing a young man to such a high level of responsibility flew from his mind as he saw the weight of responsibility settle over the lad’s countenance.
“I do.”
“I cannot stay longer,” Kyros said. “You have much work to do caring for the survivors and rebuilding the village. I will be checking up on your progress. First of all, I suggest you get rid of this Kraken’s body before a larger creature comes to feed.”
The lad nodded. “Thank you, sir. You’ve saved us, despite my father’s ignorant pride.”
Kyros nodded back.
As Kyros swam over a mountainous rise, he looked back on the scene of carnage. The town lay in ruins. It would take them a long time to rebuild. Tethered to three blue whales, the body of the Kraken left a scar across the sea floor as they dragged it toward the drop off. The creatures of the deep would have a
feast on that carcass.
Kyros didn’t look forward to his new destination. It was even more unappealing than this scene.
Xanthus had summoned him.
Kyros had dreaded this meeting since he’d first heard his best friend was searching for volunteers—for a mission a hundred times worse than tearing through the digestive system of a Kraken. These volunteers were expected to live among the humans and guard a mermaid. Either of these things alone would be unpleasant enough, but together…
What was worse, the mermaid was Xanthus’s new wife.
Regardless of being Xanthus’s best friend and most loyal companion, Kyros shrunk from such a job. He wondered how, in Poseidon’s realm, Xanthus would find others willing to perform this task. Dagonians loathed mermaids—at least, they used to. Sara was the first mermaid to be born since Dagonians killed the last of them two thousand years ago. If the stories were true, all mermaids were cruel, selfish, and self-absorbed creatures. Why Xanthus would want to marry such a thing was beyond Kyros’s understanding. Perhaps the siren had bewitched him. If that were the case, Kyros may just have to figure out how to break the spell and save his friend.
But, to live among humans? He couldn’t think of anything worse. Word was Xanthus was looking for five soldiers to guard his wife. Perhaps he was finally putting his extensive fortune to use.
Kyros raised his face. His body shot straight up, racing to the surface. He had one place to go before the dreaded meeting. A place he hadn’t been to in a hundred years. He broke through the waves and flipped two times in the air before slamming his back flat against the water. He relished the pain; this burn was more tolerable than the painful memories he was about to confront. But he needed to face them. He needed a reminder of what the land-walkers had done to him. What they’d taken from him.
The journey took him merely two hours, swimming at twenty knots—it felt like much longer.
He considered passing his childhood home without a glance, but thought again. He was exhausted from fighting the Kraken, and even more so from witnessing how one man’s pride could wreak such devastation and destruction. Besides, if his parents knew he’d passed by, he’d never hear the end of it.
Swimming toward the village at dusk, he frowned when he realized this village probably looked much like the last one—minus the rubble and stench of blood.
His house stood on the edge of town and looked just like he’d remembered it—a hollowed-out, lumpy dome of multi-colored coral that grew in size every year. His parents were predictably old-fashioned. Where most families were building stone homes, with sea-glass windows and marble floors, his parents were happy with the house they’d found and hollowed out eight hundred years ago.
Kyros had to admit that it was plenty big. When his parents had first moved in, it had been barely big enough for the two of them. Now it could hold a large family. Too bad he was the only child they had left. Eros, the god of procreation, had not been kind to them—only two children born to them in eight hundred years.
“Kyros! How come you didn’t tell us you were coming?” asked an excited voice, interrupting his thoughts. His mother swam toward him and wrapped her arms around his chest. Her brown eyes sparkled. He looked down on her loving face, her long, red hair haloed naturally around her head. She’d long given up on keeping up with the latest hairstyles. She said they were far too complicated to braid and a waste of time, anyway.
“I’m not staying long,” he said. “I was just in the area.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Our village is not in danger, is it?”
“Not at all. I was just passing by.”
“Oh good. Come inside. Your father will be happy to see you.”
“Happy to see who?” His father swam in from the reading room. He was a large Dagonian, longer than Kyros—nearly as long as Xanthus. With genes coming from both his parents, Kyros had ended up somewhere in the middle—about seven and a half feet from head to fin.
“Who is this stranger?” His father scowled.
“Oh, stop being silly,” his mother said.
“I’m not being silly. We see so little of him; he may as well be a stranger.”
“You just saw him five months ago.”
“Five months is far too long. My friends have their sons by their side—helping them fish during the spawning season, helping them clear out the human debris that seems to get into every crack and crevice, and helping their fathers home when they’ve had a bit too much pod juice. Not to mention, their sons get married and give them grandchildren.”
“Dear, stop hounding him. He’ll marry when he’s ready.” His mother flitted around the house, batting small fish out the windows and closing the shutters.
“So, what has brought you here?” his father asked.
“I just needed a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?”
Kyros sighed, predicting his parent’s reactions. “Xanthus is going to ask me to accompany him to the surface.”
They both gasped at the same time. “Whatever for?” his mother asked—her face as white as whalebone.
“He recently married a mermaid.”
Their eyes grew wider.
“That is surprising,” his mother said. “I didn’t realize King Triton had more children. But I still don’t understand. Mermaids don’t usually live on the surface.”
“No, but Xanthus does—at least for a while. He has it in his head he needs to singlehandedly convince the humans to stop polluting our seas.”
“Sounds like a fool’s errand,” his father said.
“Yeah, I’ve tried to tell him.”
“So King Triton is worried about his daughter and wants her protected?” his mother asked.
“Yes.”
“Why come home?” his father asked. “What do you hope this trip will accomplish?”
“Dear…” His mother frowned.
“I’m going to be around humans for a while, and I don’t want to forget,” Kyros said.
His mother bit down on her lip as his father asked, “Forget what?”
“How much I loathe them.”
Kyros swam forward. He could still taste his mother’s tears. The memories he’d stirred up were hard on her. She’d never gotten over her daughter’s death. What parent ever did?
He approached the island. If it was as he remembered, not much more than a sandy peak topped with a mound of seaweed and crabs.
He knew nothing would be left of the crime—not a clue to what happened that fateful day a hundred years ago. In his mind, he could see it clearly… as if it had happened yesterday.
Kassi had gone missing—longer than usual. His twin sister had given their parents fits. She was always wandering off, exploring. But she had never stayed away overnight—until that dark day.
The whole village had gone to search for her the next morning. Everyone else searched the sea, but Kyros had known where to look. He looked on the tiny island.
She’d brought him there once before, confiding in him that it was her favorite place to be. She’d even pulled herself onto shore—against his protests. But Kassi never listened to him, and that time was no exception. She’d wanted to show him what happened to her hair when it dried. She lifted a mirror to watch her reflection. Her long, black hair blew in the wind. Her eyes sparkled as a smile crept across her face. Her hair curled and puffed over her head like lumpy coral. He couldn’t help but laugh at her. She looked beyond ridiculous. Kassi laughed too, giggling so hard she nearly tipped over. Even now, he smiled at the memory as sadness squeezed his chest.
Today, Kyros surfaced again. The island looked different—barren, lifeless—as if a curse were upon it. He approached the atoll and remembered exactly where he’d spotted the keel of the boat—just fifty yards offshore. A familiar sickness twisted his insides as the memories flooded back. No human had ever sailed to the island before. But years ago, on that dark day, there they were.
Kyros hadn’t hesitated to surface. He cared not that
the humans would see him, that he was breaking the law by showing himself to them. The need to find and protect his sister was overwhelming, a desperation.
The smell of blood assaulted his mind as his vision of the past played from his memory. The humans were shouting—two men. They scrambled around a net. Kyros had no idea what they were saying. One of the men cried out when he saw Kyros, and they both looked at him in horror—their voices now silent. Kyros examined the scene.
He couldn’t see his sister, but it was too strange a coincidence that she was missing and humans were there, in her favorite place. A net hung over the side of the boat, jumbled in a tangle of seaweed and flopping fish. The scent of blood saturated the air. Then he saw something that shouldn’t have been in a fishing net. Long, brown hair tangled around the thin, interlocked ropes.
Kyros dove under the water, swimming straight down. Turning sharp, he shot back toward the surface. He broke through, traveling at top speed, and crashed down on the ship’s deck. The humans screamed and ran inside the craft.
Kyros dragged his body across the wooden surface, to the motionless lump hidden in the net. The wind blew icy across his skin, the cold penetrating deep into his body, as the reality of the situation speared him through the heart. His sister hung lifeless, her eyes still bright, her head caved in above her temple—her blood fresh. A metal rod lay nearby, smeared with her blood. The former chill he’d felt was burned away by his sudden fury.
At sixteen years old, he was not yet full-grown, but he was still larger than either of the human murderers. They might have screamed. Kyros had no recollection of it. The only scream he heard was his own—a mixture of pain, anguish, and rage as he mercilessly tore them apart. When they were dead, he returned to his sweet sister, cut the ropes, and carefully pulled her body from the net.
The next few months passed in a blur. The village elders must have disposed of the ship and the bodies. They never mentioned it. No one ever spoke of the humans or Kassi again, but from that day on, an invisible barrier existed around the island. No one went near it.
