Pisceon nodded at the sphinxes. “For protection. This doorway originally stood in the port of Thonis-Heracleion, but we relocated the entrance here when the city sank. Once archaeologists began poking around and excavating the ruins, we had to enchant it to make it look like rubble.”
I brushed the ancient stone frame, and the Runes of the Ocean glowed beneath my touch. A chill crept through the water as I pulled back my hand, raising the fur on my arms. The darkness seemed to have thickened.
Fear stole the air in my chest as I heard it: a drumlike echo.
Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.
Beside me, Finn tensed, claws unsheathing as his jagged teeth and beastly eyes overtook his face. I swung out from the doorway, hand flying to the dagger at my hip, gaze locked on the shadowy figures approaching through the gloom.
Drowned. Manannán’s two henchmen—Teachie and Rackham.
Teachie’s right eye socket was hollow, skin peeling from his cheek. Rackham followed behind him, cracking his knuckles. A cohort of silver-stained Drowned flanked them.
Teachie’s mouth curved into a wicked grin. “I have been lookingforward to getting my revenge, princeling. Maybe I’ll drag you to the dungeons of Port Royal and see how you like it.”
My eyes darted across the group. They had at least double our numbers, and Mer-blood fueled them.
“We cannot win this. Fend them off and close the door behind us,” Finn growled, motioning us to spread out across the doorway.
The Drowned didn’t give us time to plan or think. The water blurred as they rushed forward, moving like tattered puppets. Rackham lunged for me, but remembering my training, I dropped low. I spun and caught his wrist midstrike, twisting until I heard bones snapping. His weapon clattered into the sand.
For the Captain... and for...I gritted my teeth as I slashed his stomach with my dagger, and he staggered backward, nursing the wound. Causing this pirate pain felt damn good after what he’d done to me.
Beside me, to the right of the tunnel, Finn clashed with Teachie. His water blade had materialized and was locked with the pirate’s barnacle-ridden sword. Pháos fought at his side, lashing out at the Drowned with strikes of his tail.
Pisceon moved away from the doorway, throwing himself into the Drowned with brute force. They screeched as he slashed them, bodies crumpling and then knitting themselves back together. A grunt echoed as he drove his blade into a Drowned pirate’s chest. I cried out as another tackled him from behind, dragging him toward the seabed.
Rackham had picked himself up, bones snapping back into place, his stomach already healed. He glared at me as I stood braced, guarding the tunnel’s mouth. Then, blinded by rage, he charged. I pivoted, using the water’s resistance to my advantage, and struck him with a palm to the chest, just as Aranare had taught me. My strength pushedhim back, and I followed through with another slash of my dagger, sending him staggering away from the doorway.
I brushed my hair out of my eyes, a grin splitting my face. The smile faded as more Drowned crept toward us out of the gloom. In my periphery, I could see Glacies fighting with eerie grace, holding the tunnel’s left, ice forming at her fingertips as she sent razor shards slicing through the current. Even with her jagged teeth and claws, she remained beautiful, like a fearsome queen carved from frost. Aarna protected her flank, spinning a twin-bladed staff like a steel cyclone.
Skye was hovering behind the sphinxes to the left of the entrance, and Edward fought in front of it, holding his own with his crossbow, but the Drowned were advancing. I reached for my magic, but it flickered, unstable as I remembered Stavros.
Shit. I couldn’t risk it.
“Get into the doorway,” Finn yelled, backing toward the tunnel as he parried Teachie. “Pisceon and I will hold them off.”
The shadows thickened, like ink unfurling through water. My blood turned cold as a man emerged, dark tendrils snaking around him like writhing smoke—the Fisherman.
I froze, panic licking at my ribs as his tentacled arm wound tight against his chest. More Drowned spilled out from the gloom behind him.
No.There were too many of them, and they were advancing too fast. We’d never win, never contain them.
The monstrous arm of the Fisherman hurled toward Edward.
“Look out!” I cried.
He barely managed to roll away behind a limestone outcropping before the tentacle smashed into the wall on one side of the stairs, where he had been a moment before, splintering it into sand.
Aarna and Glacies grabbed Skye and ushered her into the safety ofthe descending stairs. I had turned to follow when a cry cut through the dark waters.
Pisceon. He was pinned to the ground, a Drowned’s blade pressed to his throat. Finn was locked in battle with Teachie, but he swung his head toward the sound. He was too far. He’d be too late.
My stomach became leaden as I reached for the silver orb inside me, but Edward pulled himself out from behind the jagged rocks before I could grasp it. He loaded his crossbow, aimed, and fired. The barbed tip sliced through the water and struck the Drowned through the side of the head.
Pisceon shoved the body off. “You saved my life,” he rasped, eyes wide with surprise as his beastly form faded.
“Thank me later,” Edward muttered, reloading with shaking hands.
