The Nahrin roared and bobbed up and down on its six meaty arms. It hurled its body around, half-blind, swinging tentacles everywhere. It pulled trees up and out by the roots, then hurled them across the forest.
“The head!” Roslyn shouted to Selene and Petrina. She tapped the top of her crown. “It’s the only spot of vulnerability it has.”
Selene understood immediately. The gelatinous figure had been sucked into the top of the siren’s skull.
“We have to get above it,” she said to Petrina.
Petrina shouted to Roslyn. “Lure it into the trees.” She handed Selene one of her blades. “We’re only getting two shots at this.”
Selene sprinted behind the assassin into the forest, and shouts startedbehind her. Roslyn’s taunts mingled with those of some of the men. The ground shook, and puddles of water vibrated for several feet.
Petrina assessed the trees as she ran past until she found one with low branches. She pulled herself up and climbed.
Selene tucked the blade into her belt and followed. Bark scraped her palms, and her burning, exhausted muscles protested every inch. They climbed until reaching a particularly thick branch that hung out over the path of the siren.
A handful of men, plus Roslyn and Lili, backed down the path with flagging arms and shouted taunts.
Augustus was among them. He crossed beneath her and shot a look skyward. Every word he was thinking translated up at her with his eyes.Don’t you fucking die on me now,i psychi mou.
He wasn’t getting rid of her that easily.
The Nahrin lurched and lunged forward. Its large body smashed against trees, splintering them with thunderous cracks and showering branches into the black waters. It emitted a low, resonant sound—a bone-deep hum that vibrated the very air. Each powerful, brine-scented wave was thick with the smell of rotting seaweed, sending sharp, metallic tangs into the air, mingling with the swamp’s already fetid stench.
It drew closer; atop its crown, a puckered hole became visible. It might have been smaller than Selene’s hand—they’d have to make this perfect.
“I’ll go first,” Petrina said. She stared down while squatting, balanced on her tiptoes. “And if I fail, you need to be right behind me. Understand?”
Selene lifted her chin to nod?—
The Nahrin roared beneath her. The men threatened the creature with swords to slow or stop it—it wasn’t happy. The massive body pushed skyward and didn’t stop.
“Hold on to—” Petrina started.
Its head struck the underside of the branch they were perched on. A thunderous crack splintered the air.
Selene dropped to her chest and wrapped tightly around the thick wood. Her weight rolled off the side?—
Her legs held.
The rest of the branch broke and arced down with Petrina attached. She landed on the siren’s bumpy, thick-skinned crown with an unceremonious sprawl. Petrina rolled down the back while grappling for a hold.
The siren’s head rose toward the branch again.
Selene let go and turned mid-air. She landed like a cat atop the surface—its skin was surprisingly cold, and her boots gripped well to the coarse surface.
A wet mist shot from the puckered hole, and Selene lunged toward it. Inside, the nude-colored membrane swirled and rolled.
Selene plunged her blade in all the way to the hilt, the knife sinking with ease.
A greenish-black slime burped from the hole, and the siren’s limbs lashed furiously.
She scrambled to hold on to the hilt—don’t let go, the old advice shouted—but her palm slipped, wet with the creature’s blood. The body rocked beneath her, sending her forward.
“Selene!”
Augustus’s shout added to the symphony of slapping tentacles, snapping roots, and the grating squeals of trees pulled up from the muck.
The Nahrin’s head whipped Selene forward into the open air.
