Something is pulling me down. Something that has latched onto my boot, trapping my foot with blunt teeth.
I yank at it, kicking out with my other foot, bubbles clouding my vision. Panic slams into me. It’s pulling me deeper into the depths of the water. I kick again. This time I hit something. But it doesn’t let me go.
I need air.
Desperation claws at me. I flail, kicking out again and again, the surface of the water tauntingly close.
Light slices through the water and I finally catch a glimpse of my attacker.
Burning red eyes, a black coat, and a gleaming silver halter. A mane of dark seaweed floats around its head, and it lifts deadly hooves in a clear threat.
Kelpies. The emperor has captured kelpies. Somehow, his guards have managed to slip silver halters over their heads. Kelpies aren’t known for attacking without reason. I’ve heard you can even enjoy a conversation with them when they’re not in their horse form.
But those halters have trapped the kelpies in this form, ensuring they will do whatever the emperor wants.
And what he wants is blood.
My lungs seize, and the threat the kelpie represents is suddenly secondary to my need for air.
Movement to my right.
I lift my hands defensively, but the approaching kelpie already has a man in its grip.
The bearded man is choking. Drowning. Seizing. I struggle harder,lashing out at the kelpie dragging me down. The man reaches out a hand as if begging for help. His dagger falls free, his eyes open and lifeless. The kelpie releases him, disappearing back into the depths as the man’s body floats toward the surface. His knife falls through the water, inches from my hand.
I lunge for it, my vision darkening at the edges.
My brain knows that if I open my mouth and take a breath, I will die. But my body doesn’t seem to get the message. I ruthlessly fight the urge to inhale.
My fingers brush the wooden hilt of the dagger. Debris from above falls through the water and the kelpie shifts slightly to the right.
But that’s all it takes.
The dagger falls neatly into my palm and I twist, desperate.
I’m sloppy and slow, uncoordinated in the freezing water. But some higher power must guide my hand. Because I slam the dagger into the kelpie’s head, the blade sliding neatly into its eye.
It releases me instantly, its shriek so loud it echoes even through the water. My vision is blurring, my lungs so tight I open my mouth in a silent scream as I fight my way up toward the surface.
Cool air on my face.
The crowd gasps audibly. Clearly they thought I was dead.
I inhale the water in my mouth, coughing and spluttering and coughing some more. My throat and lungs ache, but the fresh air on my skin is like the touch of a lover.
“Watch out!” someone roars. I dodge to the side, barely avoiding an arrow to the head. Hester stands on top of the platform holding the shields and swords, just a few feet away, a shield in her hand.
She must have swum past me and the bearded man while we distracted the kelpies.
“Get up here!” Hester screams.
I swim toward her, but each stroke is slower than the last, my breaths still unsteady.
Hester crouches, and my blood turns cold. This would be the perfect chance for her to kill me. With all this chaos, the emperor might not even notice. She holds her arm out, waving it impatiently.
“What are you doing?” I croak.
“We need you. Hurry up, you slug.”
