by Amy Sumida
“Vervain?” Kirill prompted.
“Yeah, I'm getting to it,” I muttered then focused on my magic.
The Moon rose inside me, a silver orb casting her light through my body. I closed my eyes for a moment to luxuriate in its rays. Breathed deeply. Focused. When I opened my eyes, the magic had already moved through me and into the water. The lake had drawn back in a downspout, its narrow point revealing the muddy bottom. Just mud, nothing more. I sighed internally. Had I really expected to find the entrance in one go? Come on, Vervain, your luck isn't that good.
“Start the boat,” I said to Jarilo. “I'll try to maintain the downspout while you move us.”
Jarilo went back to the driver's seat. Captain's seat? Whatever you call it on a boat, he sat in it and started the engine. We began to move. I focused on the downspout but the swirling water wobbled then splashed apart. I cursed.
“Too difficult to pull vater through vater,” Kirill pointed out. “You'll have to focus on one spot at a time.”
“Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious,” I grumbled. “Care to take command of my water-ship? We can see how well you do.”
“Vouldn't vater-ship just be called ship?” Kirill smirked.
I rolled my eyes as UnnúlfR laughed his ass off. Jarilo took us a little further then shut off the engine again.
“I'll keep track of vhere ve've tried,” Jarilo said as if it didn't matter.
But before I could pull a Moses and part the water again, something slapped the boat harder than a wave. We all went still, stares focused in the direction of the sound. Another slap came and then a hand appeared over the rim. A human hand. Another hand came into view and then a man lifted himself over the rim and crawled onto the boat. He stood up; tall, fit, and handsome. Dark hair trailed around his shoulders, turning green in the light. His eyes matched the shade; mossy green or perhaps algae would be more appropriate. Pretty, actually. Pale skin covered his swimmer's body and a black wet suit laid over that. Or was it rubber? Ew, was that frog skin?
We all gaped at him. All of us except for Jarilo.
“Tsar Vodyanik,” Jarilo greeted the man as he stepped toward him. “I've been looking for you.”
The man—Vodyanik, evidently—frowned at Jarilo and said something rapidly in Latvian. A conversation continued until Jarilo waved at me. Vodyanik nodded and altered his language to stunted English.
“So, you here for Mokosh?” Vodyanik stared directly at me. “Vhy help?”
“Because I can,” I said simply. “Do you know where she is?”
“How I know you not hurt her?”
“Vervain has helped me greatly and she has no reason to hurt my mother,” Jarilo said.
“You trust Godhunter?” Vodyanik glared at him. “You bring her to my vater and tell her find me? Fool! She vill kill Mokosh zen you.”
“I don't kill gods unless they do bad things,” I protested. “Did you do a bad thing, Vodyanik? Are you worried for a reason?”
“You are one who does bad, Godhunter. I tried to do good.” Vodyanik narrowed his eyes at me. “Vater is cold. My people don't like to come out during zis time but I sent zem into cold to vatch over humans. I sent zem because Mokosh asked it of me. I called zem back because of you; because one of zem see you here. I von't endanger my people for some humans.”
“I'm not here to hurt your people,” I insisted. “I'm only trying to help Jarilo find Mokosh.”
Vejasmate started speaking to him in Latvian. Vodyanik's eyes widened; he spoke back in the same, belligerent tone he'd been using but it started to soften the longer the exchange went on. Finally, he nodded.
“I take him,” Vodyanik spoke to me but pointed at Jarilo. “He go into my home. I show him Mokosh not zere. Zen you leave. And you stay away from my people.”
I looked at Jarilo. Jarilo frowned and spoke to Vodyanik in Latvian again. Damn, I needed to learn some other languages. I'd never felt more like an ignorant American than at that moment. But languages aren't my strong suit, and I like to stick to what I'm good at. Yeah, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to that too.
“He's agreed to let me see every part of his home,” Jarilo said to me.
Jarilo spoke to me not because he thought I was in charge but because I was the only one who hadn't understood the exchange. Even UnnúlfR had followed it.
“He said zat Mokosh came to see him about drowned humans,” Kirill added more to the translation. “But she left after he convinced her he had no part in it.”
UnnúlfR made a sound suspiciously like a snicker.
Vejasmate elbowed him.
I narrowed my eyes at my brother-in-law.
“I'll tell you later,” UnnúlfR said to me.
“Are you sure you want to go down there with him?” I asked Jarilo. “If he has your mother, he could easily add you to his collection.”
“He vill show us door to home,” Jarilo said. “If I don't return, you go in after me.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded. “What do you think, Kirill?”
He nodded.
“Zat vay.” Vodyanik pointed across the water.
Jarilo started the engines and sent us in the direction the King of the Frog Men pointed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We didn't have far to go. I probably would have found the entrance on my own in under an hour. Which is likely why Vodyanik made an appearance instead of just ignoring us as he'd done the day before.
Jarilo shut off the engine and this time, he also dropped anchor. Vodyanik said something to him in Latvian again; something that had UnnúlfR cringing. Jarilo merely nodded and shucked off his coat then his clothes, down to his boxers. I widened my eyes at that. And shivered in sympathy. Finally, Jarilo slipped out of his boots and went to stand before Vodyanik.
Vodyanik kissed Jarilo. I blinked slowly. It obviously wasn't sexual, but I wasn't prepared for it; a fact which UnnúlfR gleefully savored. When I glanced at my brother-in-law, I found his face squished up in barely repressed laughter. I stuck out my tongue at him.
Jarilo gasped as he pulled away from Vodyanik.
“Jarilo, are you all right?” I headed for him, but he held up a hand, nodding.
Without another word, Jarilo dove overboard.
“Kiss of vater,” Vodyanik said to me. “He breathe vater now. Temporary.”
Then he waved his hand over the side of the boat. The water parted for Vodyanik much quicker than it had for me. We gathered near him and stared down the funnel he'd formed. At the bottom lay a collection of boulders. They looked to be the entrance to a cave. Within the cave, water remained—a flat wall of it as if a glass partition held it back—and within that water, Jarilo floated. He held up a hand to let us know he was all right.
“Zere is entrance,” Vodyanik said unnecessarily then he looked me over and scowled. “You not as I expected.”
“Neither are you, Mr. Toad,” I retorted.
Vodyanik made a snorting sound of amusement and the water closed over his home. “I send Jarilo back in three-zero minutes.”
“Thirty minutes?” I clarified, and he nodded. “What about the water kiss?”
“First breath of air, after he breathe water, will break magic.”
“Okay. You got thirty minutes with him. I won't come knocking before then.”
Vodyanik dove into the water. I pulled my phone out, set a timer, and placed it in a nook on the console. Then I set my stare on UnnúlfR.
“Now, tell me why you laughed,” I demanded.
“Vodyanik did a little more than talk to Mokosh when she visited him,” UnnúlfR said with a masculine grin. He got another elbow from Veja for it. “Ah! Veja, leave off!”
“Stop being such an ass, and I will.”
UnnúlfR made a grumbling sound but shut up.
“He had sex with Mokosh and told her son about it?” I asked in horror.
“Zat's not exactly vhat he said,” Kirill took over for UnnúlfR. “Vodyanik said zat he zinks highly of Mokosh. Zey conn
ected. He vants her found too. She promised to allow him to court her.”
“Oh.” I simmered down. “That sounds better.” Then I glared at UnnúlfR. “You deliberately misled me.”
“I—”
Before UnnúlfR could defend himself, the weather shifted. As in; it went from calm skies to a violent storm in seconds. The shifters crouched—hands out and curled into claws—and started to growl as they stared at the steel clouds, darkening even as we watched. I called to my star. The Trinity Star unites all of my magics, and I wasn't sure which one I'd need for this. Whatever this was.
The boat started to bob like a seesaw; shifting violently beneath our feet as the anchor tried valiantly to keep it in place. Lightning struck the shore and thunder immediately followed. When I was a girl, I used to count the seconds between lightning flashes and the booms that followed. My grandmother told me that the sooner thunder came, the closer the lightning was. This bolt was damn close. Too close for comfort. Lightning doesn't usually strike water but when it does, it spreads over the water, which is a great conductor, and can hit nearby boats and even electrocute fish near the surface. And this wasn't ordinary lightning. Normal or not, I could survive a hit, but I wasn't certain about the three shifters with me.
“Don't shift!” I shouted over the screech of the wind.
The wolves and my lion were on the verge, I could tell. A startled beast reverts to instincts and with shifters, those instincts usually send them straight into their animal forms which are generally more powerful than their human bodies. But those shapes would be a hindrance in the middle of a lake, not a help.
They snarled and growled but stayed as they were. There was no one for us to fight. The storm had obviously been sent by a god, but he or she hadn't deigned to face us. I scowled at the lights within the sky, my thoughts turning to Marduk. But he was dead. Very dead. It couldn't be him. However, that thought made me realize that we may have been hasty in writing off the human attack as Mokosh-related. There were quite a lot of gods who knew that Marduk had turned me human but most of those wouldn't know that he gave me back my magic before he died. I'd already been attacked by Cephissus, father of Narcissus. He was a water god too—a river god, to be precise—but, like Marduk, he was dead. It couldn't be Cephissus, but it could be one of my numerous enemies. Someone who had come to Latvia to see just how human the Godhunter was. Striking at me with lightning; like shooting fish in a barrel.
Or I could simply be a huge narcissist, thinking everything was about me. Oh, I hoped I was.
The boat began to toss even more violently. We were flung to the deck. Thunder boomed as if it were laughing at us and water poured over us in great waves. Was it wrong that I was suddenly worried about my fur coat?
“We have to get out of here!” UnnúlfR shouted.
“We can't leave Jarilo!” I shouted back. “He'll surface in the middle of the lake, nearly naked.”
“We can come back for him or he can trace!”
We were all clinging to whatever we could get a hold of. UnnúlfR had a hand on the steel column below the Captain's seat, his other one gripping Veja's bicep. Kirill and I weren't so lucky; we were both near the back of the boat, clinging to the benches that lined the sides. The boat bucked like a wild horse trying to get us off its back. Before I could tell UnnúlfR that he was right and to get us the hell out of there, the boat succeeded.
Kirill went flying, landing in the lake. I didn't hesitate; I let go and leapt in his direction. Freezing water closed over me, instantly turning my clothes to lead weights. It didn't matter; I could handle far more than that, but the temperature of the water nearly had me gasping despite the obvious results that would have. My body reacted automatically, warming itself, but Kirill would be suffering if he was even still conscious. I have no idea how Jarilo had endured it; perhaps the water kiss helped.
I opened my eyes. Below the surface, it was almost calm. I swayed with the currents the storm created, but I was able to swim against them without too much effort. I spotted Kirill just a few feet ahead of me, his skin pale enough to act as a beacon and his hair wreathing him like fronds of kelp. My feet were heavy within the layered boots, but it would take to long to kick them off. Instead, I powered past the currents and the drag of my clothing, heading straight for Kirill.
Just as I reached him, a hand rose from the murk below and grabbed his ankle. Kirill flailed. He'd been on his way to the surface, already kicking, so he merely kicked harder. But the hand was strong and tipped in claws; it held tight and dug in. I dove for it and caught a glimpse of an arm far paler than Kirill's but that was all. Even when I was close enough to grab that wrist, I still couldn't see past the darkness within the water. Impossible darkness. This was darkness the likes of which Kirill had described; evil.
I shifted my hand into a claw and sliced at the wrist with one vicious swipe. A horrible shriek echoed through the water like sonar as the hand was severed. The creature—whatever it was—drew back and went after the plummeting appendage. Kirill shot upward, and I followed him.
I broke the surface a moment after Kirill, blinking in the rain that now pelted down in a punishing torrent. The boat was a white, bobbing blob on the horizon. I pointed and Kirill started for it. We swam against waves that seemed set against us; probably an accurate assessment. Things circled below. I could feel the brush of currents their passage created. Claws sliced at my legs. Kirill cried out.
“Keep swimming!” I shouted before I dove again.
Shadows spiraled. Billowed. Closed around me. Sound echoed. Clicking. Wailing. Why is everything so much eerier underwater? My dragon wasn't fond of water, but she had more confidence in it than I. In her opinion, all of the world is her territory, she just hasn't marked it yet. And she had an urge to leave her mark on this lake.
I roared and with my roar came a burst of dragonfire. It boiled the water before me; golden bubbles blasting like a laser. The shrieks came again and the shadows drew back like withered vines. I shot to the surface. Kirill had waited for me despite my command, treading water a few feet ahead. I wasn't all that surprised; when it comes to my safety, there's nothing anyone could say—not even me—to make Kirill abandon me. I started swimming in his direction. No words were exchanged when I caught up with him, we focused on getting back to the boat.
UnnúlfR and Vejasmate were arguing when Kirill and I tumbled aboard. Kinda comical considering their position. Which was as I'd left them; clinging to the chair with Veja gripping UnnúlfR's wrist as she flopped about like a fish. As I scrambled over the side of the boat, the storm abruptly abated. Gray skies pulled away like a curtain across a stage, revealing bright blue beneath. The water stilled, thunder became a distant echo, and all of us flopped onto our backs to pant in relief.
“What the fuck?!” UnnúlfR roared as he sat up.
“You vanted to come,” Kirill reminded him dryly.
I turned my head to look at Kirill and made an amused snort right before I sobered again. “Did you see what grabbed you?”
His ankle was bleeding steadily, staining the blood that flooded the deck.
“Nyet. You?”
“Nyet,” I repeated his word. “They were cloaked in darkness.”
“Darkness?” Vejasmate whispered as she climbed to her feet. She stared across the placid lake then back at me. “Vhat are you talking about Vervain?”
“That storm was about getting us overboard,” I said grimly as I went to Kirill and helped him out of his clothes. “Things were waiting in the water for us. One of them grabbed Kirill. I was able to fight them off, but I couldn't get a good look at them. All I saw were claws on the ends of pale fingers.”
“Clawed fingers?” UnnúlfR asked. “Shit; that could be anything. Even us.”
“Especially if we consider that this might not be about Mokosh,” I added then gave Kirill a heavy look.
He cursed in Russian.
“You'd best explain zat,” Veja prompted me.
“Shift, baby
,” I said to Kirill after we got him naked. I blocked him from view even though he wouldn't care. I cared.
Kirill shifted, his body thickening and lengthening into an impossible black lion who looked even more impossible standing on that boat. Taking up most of the space, I might add. He tossed his dry mane—an additional benefit to the healing that shifting gave him—and roared. Couldn't be helped; we'd just been attacked, after all, and I'd just told him that it was likely personal.
The roar steadied him. Kirill stretched his lion shoulders then lifted his head—which wasn't too far below mine—to nuzzle me. But I was still wet—drying quickly from the heat I was radiating, but still wet—so I only briefly hugged him. Then I went to one of the benches, unlatched its lid, and flipped it open. Among the usual detritus you might find on a fishing boat, of discarded fish hooks and frayed rope, there was a first aid kit and an emergency blanket; one of those metallic ones that crinkle. I snatched the blanket and nodded at Kirill.
