I made a promise not to go down this road, but it’s just sleep. It’s just a friend comforting another friend alone in the wilderness.
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of his breathing. I am asleep within minutes.
30
Iwake to the sound of gently crashing tides outside the tent. Jace sleeps soundly beside me—his mouth parted slightly. Wondering how late it is, I carefully extricate myself from his arms and pull back the flap of the tent.
It’s dark. No stars.
A small movement draws my attention. A shadowed female form rests atop a jagged boulder about ten feet from the shore. A rush of fear cinches me as my eyes adjust to the darkness, and I get a better look.
Naked from the waist up, her skin glows a pale blue in the moonlight, her lips black. Pin-straight raven hair that extends well beyond her hips blows softly in the breeze like a silken flag. From the hips down, her legs are fused together through the thigh and calf, webbed, like some dark, perverted variation of a mermaid. Behind her bare back, short wings that look like stretched black gossamer beat gently. The waves crash against her perch every few seconds, spraying her with ocean mist.
Her eyes, wholly black, shift to me as her full lips pull backto reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth. A soft, slow hiss makes its way up her throat. I hold my breath, afraid to move, afraid that she will climb ashore with those bony arms and drag me back into the sea with her, despite what Jace said about being safe on land.
He stirs behind me, sitting up sleepily. I beckon him, nodding toward the strangely entrancing sea creature.
“Look,” I whisper as he comes to stand beside me, pulling back the flap further to peer out.
“Naiads,” he whispers back, watching as she pushes off the rock and slides back into the black sea. “It’s rare for them to come this close to shore,” he says, his brow furrowing.
It’s then that I notice the dampness coating the tent floor.
“Why is the tent wet?” I ask. Jace follows my gaze down to the material, quickly darkening where it is touched by seawater. Before he can answer, a thin pool of water edged with sea foam rolls in, kissing our boots before retreating back toward the ocean.
Jace and I exchange a look.
We step out onto the dampened stones and stare up at the starless sky. The moon hangs large and bright, so much closer than I’ve ever seen on Earth, closer than I’ve seen in Aegar.
Large and bright and…full.
“Jace, the moon.” I gape at the massive orb as another stronger pool of water laps up against our feet, forcing the tent back a few inches. I turn to him, horror frozen on my face as I breathe, “It’s high tide.”
“Fuck,” he curses.
He ducks into the tent and emerges a second later, our two bags slung over his chest. He urges me forward, pressing his hand against the small of my back.
“We have to go. Now.”
We jog up the beach as the waves roll toward us, catching up to us with unnatural speed. It’s as if the nearness of the moon has accelerated the rising tide. Within moments, we are sloshing through knee-deep water, slowed by the powerful tide despite our supernatural speed. I dare a look back. Our tent is a blip in the dark water. Distantly adrift.
That’s when I see it.
The horde of Naiads streamlining toward us.
Their approach is nightmarish, cutting through the waves with alarming speed. They drift on their bellies, their dark, webbed legs zigzagging so fast the movement blurs. Long black hair jets out behind them like spilled ink. Their faces are only visible from the eyes up—those predatory, soulless eyes that send chills down my spine. Above the water, their black opalescent wings perform like sails, slicing the wind to propel them forward.
“Oh my god,” I breathe, gripping Jace’s arm. He turns, his eyes full of dread.
There are so many of them. We can’t move fast enough.
Jace thrusts both hands out before him. A heavy gust of wind bursts from them, forcing the tide back along with most of the Naiads. But two are faster. Their dark heads disappear beneath the water. Panic rises as I scan for them frantically. The water stills around us, growing eerily silent.
I suck in a sharp breath as one of the Naiads crashes through the surface, snapping its filed teeth at me. Jace hurls himself in front of me, dagger drawn. Its teeth sink into his arm, piercing through his leathers as blood cascades into the dark water. He grunts as he drives the dagger into its rib cage. It releases him with a shrill bleat. He whirls, waving me away frantically.
“Get back! Go!” he bellows over the crashing waves.
The Naiad violently leaps for him again, and he slits its throat mid-air. It gives a loud gurgle before being swallowed up by the moon-kissed waves.
