Hylos’s song filled the room, his orb glowing blindingly bright. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the sphere of water at the monster. It splashed against its skin, burning the creature, the smell of scorched hair filling the air.
The beast let out another screech, furious at Hylos. He raised his finned hand, rhythm thrumming with the movement, and shoved his palm in the beast’s direction. The song charged with the water in a racing stream to the creature.
The monster turned swiftly to flee into the dark pool, showing the dreadful other half of its body. It was like a slimy crab, and one of its long, scuttling legs slammed into me with a hard blow to my diaphragm, hurling me across the space.
My teeth clattered as I landed, my head bouncing off the unforgiving ground.
Hylos’s music stopped.
The only audible sound was that of my heart slamming into my sternum and the sloshing center of that oil-black pool.
“Are you all right?” Hylos said, rushing to my side.
“What in Infernum was that thing?” I asked between gasping, painful breaths. I could already feel the bruise across my rib cage, puddling under my skin in black and blue.
“A kelpie.” He scowled toward the pool, but held out a finned hand to me.
I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.
“A what?” I asked.
Reality was hitting me hard and fast, spinning me dizzy.
Why had I followed that voice down here?
“They lure humans into the water, take them deep below to drown them, then consume them. Nasty vermin. Thank the Holy Mother I was having trouble sleeping and walked the castle. If I had not heard that strange song …” Hylos looked at the still-sloshing water. “It’s so odd. They’re usually found in lochs in the northern country when they’re not hibernating in the Midnight Realm. I’ve never heard of one attacking in Naiadon.” His blue brow furrowed. “We have no free roaming humans for them to feed on.”
A splitting headache carved through my head, and I rubbed at my temples.
“Yeah, their call has that affect. Dreadful migraines. Come on, let’s get you something for the pain.”
We walked up slippery, moss-covered steps and wove through winding, worn halls. Did I truly make my way down this path all on my own? I remained close to Hylos and the lambent orb he kept bobbing at his shoulder. It was far more horrifying in Hylos’s light, without that voice guiding me.
We turned down an impressive corridor that led to towering double doors. Music emanated from Hylos’s hand, and with a simple motion, the doors swung open, revealing a comfortable study. The world outside an immense tracery window was graying as morning broke.
Hylos pointed a finger at a hearth-like structure in the center of the room, and a deep, thunderous percussion struck, conjuring a ball of steaming water that whirled inside like a strange fire.
“Have a seat,” Hylos said, pointing to two couches facing each other. Needing relief, I did as he said, passing a large map of Oakhaven made from a piece of white coral. I noted the ship-shaped figures littering the top.
Hylos handed me a thick, soft blanket, and I settled into the plush couch, the pulsing in my head persistent. At a counter beneath the hearthside bookshelf, Hylos prepared two mugs of something steaming, like he was fixing a cup of tea for a friend.
“This will help,” he said, handing me the steaming mug, his own in hand.
Warily, I scowled at the dark liquid, but didn’t take the mug. Could I trust it? Could I trust him?
“It’s safe,” he said with a scoff, but I didn’t relent.
He took a sip. “See? Safe.” Then he returned the warm mug to me.
“Well now you’ve tainted it with your siren-y spittle,” I complained, but smirked.
He let out a chuckle and sat in the seat across from me.
Something about Hylos was comforting, despite every logical thought in my mind telling me to flee the strange being before me with his blue, otherworldly features.
But it was like he was safe, or familiar. Like those dark-ocean eyes were a long-forgotten memory.
“Is this your study?” I asked.
