Maybe it was because I was holding my wife, who was alive and well, or maybe I was losing my mind, but I didn’t fightthe current of humor running through me. Leave it to Rose to befriend an ancient creature.
All at once, our smooth sailing ended, and we crashed into something that should not have been there. Rose tucked the shell into her arms just as we tumbled forward into whatever it was.
“Leviathan!” Val yelled.
Fuck.
The Wraith lurched sideways, wood screaming protest as something impossibly huge ground along our hull. My shoulder slammed into the rail. Rose yelped, twisting to keep the shell pinned against her chest. Dilly went down hard. Morwenna staggered, caught herself on a coil of rope, and hissed a word that made the air taste like copper.
“Hold fast!” I roared. “Lines, now!”
The deck erupted into motion. Sailors who’d been stunned into silence scrambled for rigging and braces, bare feet slapping wet wood. Somewhere below, something cracked with a sound that didn’t belong on a ship that wanted to live.
Rose pushed herself up, hair plastered to her face, eyes wild. Her knuckles were white around the glowing shell.
“Bash—”
“I’ve got you,” I said, already shoving her behind me as the sea bulged unnaturally to starboard. The Wraith bucked, protesting, and then the water itself rose as if pulled by invisible hands.
The Leviathan surfaced.
It wasn’t like the smaller monsters we’d seen, not the kelpies or the water wraiths or even the dragon Emille swore he saw in Madeira after too much rum. This was a cathedral of flesh and scale and scar tissue, a mountain that moved with purpose. Its hide was dark as the abyss, broken by jagged streaks of pale bioluminescence that pulsed in time with some terrible, patient heartbeat.
Its head alone was larger than the Wraith. One golden eye rolled toward us, vertical pupil narrowing, curious and furious all at once.
“Saints,” someone breathed.
“Cannons!” Val’s voice cut through the shock. “Bring her teeth to bear! Emille, you touch my powder wrong, I swear I’ll haunt you!”
“Aye, aye!” came the ragged replies.
Oscar appeared at my left, sword at his hip, face drawn and pale. Somewhere behind him, Inu climbed over the rail in one smooth movement, soaked from whatever she and Koinu had done to get Rose back to me. Her dark hair was slicked to her cheekbones, her expression carved from stone.
She looked straight at Rose. For a heartbeat, something like relief cracked through her usual guarded gaze.
“You’re alive,” she said.
Rose, panting, nodded. “I’m hard to get rid of.”
Inu’s mouth twitched. “We will test that later.”
Another impact cut off any reply. The Leviathan’s bulk slammed into us, sending half the crew sprawling. I caught Rose around the waist as she lurched. The shell between us vibrated so hard it was like holding thunder.
“It knows,” she whispered. “It knows I have it.”
“Then let’s show it we aren’t easy prey,” I snarled.
Morwenna stepped forward, water dripping from her gown, eyes black as the sky above us. “You have a choice to make, daughter of the sea,” she said to Rose, ignoring me entirely. “You can run and be hunted to the ends of the world, or you can turn and face it.”
“You said—” Dilly started, voice trembling.
“I said much, little scholar.” Morwenna’s lips curled. “None of it promised mercy.”
The shell shuddered. Rose flinched, but her grip didn’t loosen.
“You were right,” Rose said hoarsely. “It wants us. It wants this. It won’t stop.”
“Then ask,” Morwenna said softly. “Ask how the Atlanteans thought to kill what cannot die.”
