“I love feeling your nails against my skin,” Verin whispered in my ear. “Scratch me again, Consort.”
“You are going to make us late to the fight, Your Majesty,” I teased.
“A king is never late,” he shot back but also stepped back. “Shall we go monster hunting, my love?”
“I thought you'd never ask.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Azure Army wasn't azure. Only Lóng kings are brightly colored, the rest of the race—those who were dragon-shifters—had scales of silvery-gray that blended and reflected the underwater environment almost to the point of becoming a camouflage. Verin's soldiers were shifted and swimming idly in the water before the palace, their silver scales catching the light of lanterns that hung from towers and nearby homes. Their undulating bodies glinted like stars, trailing whiskers and fins like comets. In short, they were stunningly beautiful.
Verin and I stood in the airlock just beyond the palace's main doors. He'd left his robe with a servant but hadn't shifted yet. Instead, he took my hand as water filled the chamber and watched me take my first breaths with my brand new gills. This wasn't my first time breathing underwater but the strangeness of it never went away. My mind kept telling me that this was a bad idea, even when my gills opened on their own and sucked in seawater. The feeling of that water transforming into air inside me was the oddest sensation, and I made a face as I got used to it.
Verin grinned at my expression and let go of my hand. The door opened and he shifted as he swam out of the airlock. His body lengthened while his hair merged with his skin to paint it blue. Scales rose through his skin, a frilled tail whipped out behind him, and fiery orange fins flared into existence. Verin roared—a hollow but nonetheless powerful sound that vibrated through the water—and his army roared back as they moved into formation.
I swam out of the airlock and then up, every dragon eye focusing on me. Verin arched and looped his body, swirling back onto himself to return to me. A gold chain stretched around his neck and the traveling stone hung from it, so tiny against his massive body and gleaming scales that it was virtually invisible. Verin had told me to use the chain as a handhold while I rode him. From all appearances, it would snap in seconds but if it could stretch to fit him in this form, I didn't doubt that it could handle my weight. I swam up to his face, kissed his sleek cheek, then swung my legs over his shoulders I settled myself there, in the space between the line of fins that ran down the back of his neck and those along his back. Pale horns swept back from his temples but they were too far above me for me to reach so I did as he'd suggested and grabbed the chain.
Verin snaked upward and the spiked fins along his spine rose to cup and cradle my back, holding me in place. It was a good thing too; with the slickness of his scales, the chain wouldn't have been enough to keep me seated. Next time I rode Verin in his dragon form, I was going to insist on a saddle.
With another roar, the King of the Azure Court swam through the ranks of his army and took point. He led them through the valley of his city, a silver ribbon of dragons stretching out behind him. Lóng in both human and dragon form waited outside their homes to wave and stomp their feet supportively as we passed by. The rumble of their encouragement vibrated through the water and the army roared back.
I held on tightly as Verin increased speed and angled upward to exit the valley. Scylla's den was in the Atlantic Ocean and we were currently in the Pacific but the Lóng have portals that connect the oceans so they never had to venture onto land. Sure, the dragons could have used their coral rings to get to Scylla's cave instantly... if they'd been there before. I assumed this wasn't the case since we weren't going that route. At least the trip back would be faster.
I'd crossed through a Lóng portal once with Zhavage, back when he'd rescued me from Gargo and Scylla. So, I wasn't surprised when, after a few minutes of travel, Verin headed straight for the side of a massive coral reef. I didn't even close my eyes this time. Instead, I watched as we shot through the illusion and into a ball of light. We were briefly surrounded by the light but Verin kept moving through it, taking us out into dark water. Dark as a starless night in the wilderness.
After the brilliance of the portal, it felt as if I had closed my eyes. But then lights appeared to either side of Verin and I. Silver dragons with glowing horns flanked the army and the two beside us swam ahead to light the way. I squinted as they passed; the glow wasn't from their horns but from strips of tiny lights that had been wrapped around them. It made me think of Christmas trees and that made me smile. But my smile faded as I stared at the ominous waters of the Atlantic Ocean. We were in the North Atlantic and it was noticeably warmer than the Pacific we'd left behind. I've heard that it's also saltier, but I generally don't go around tasting seawater to make comparisons.
There wasn't a lot to see that far down. Most of the fish and sea mammals that did swim that deep stayed far away from the dragon army. There were some rock formations, coral, and human debris to break up the monotony of endless sand but other than that, the ride was uneventful. That is, until the bowl-shaped depression of Scylla's lair came into view.
The Azure Army glided over the edge gracefully as one unit—a shimmering silver scarf with a dash of blue at one end. We passed above the bone-littered seafloor and shot toward the rounded hill of rocks at the other end. High up on that hill, a darkened spot marked the entrance of Scylla's cave. I'd never seen the inside of her lair, possibly thanks to Zhavage's timely rescue, but I was prepared to enter the cave this time. Because I wasn't leaving without getting my hands on Scylla. Or my song, rather.
The soldiers had been ordered to immobilize but not kill. We needed Scylla alive for questioning. We were nearly certain that she had a coconspirator and this wouldn't be over if we failed to find out who that was. As we drew closer to the cave, a silver gleam caught my eye. The hull of one of Verin's underwater ships poked out from behind the rocks. That confirmed it, Scylla had been impersonating Chan.
Before we were halfway to her mountain, Scylla emerged, her bulging tentacles creeping out first. They clung to the rocks like questing fingers and hauled her jiggling torso out of the cave. Scylla had supposedly been beautiful enough to catch Poseidon's eye once which in turn, royally pissed off his wife. My grandma had supposedly poisoned Scylla and turned her into this monster. I wasn't convinced that the story was true—either the poisoning or her previous beauty. No one could confirm the myths for me and those who might know the truth—namely, my grandparents, Poseidon and Amphitrite—were the very people I'd never ask, for obvious reasons. I'd once thought that Scylla could be the product of dark magic but, looking at her now, I wondered if she'd simply been born this way.
Sure, a creature with dog heads growing out of her waist and slender snake necks holding her six heads aloft was improbable on Earth, if not outright impossible. But in the Greca Realm, where the Greek Gods are from, beings like Scylla aren't so farfetched. Look at my bestie, Cerberus; he can shift into a massive, three-headed dog and he'd been born that way. His sister is a hydra—theHydra, actually. So, why couldn't Scylla have been born a baby monster?
I narrowed my eyes at Scylla as she coiled her tentacles and then used to propel herself from her lair. Her fat rolls flopped back along with her sagging breasts and the mass of her tentacles collected behind her like the bristles of a paintbrush. I tried not to cringe as Scylla bared her shark teeth and set all of her eyes—twenty-four in total—on me.
Nope, I wasn't being paranoid or egotistical—this was about me. Scylla may have lucked out when she found me in Verin's court, but I was her prime target, not the Lóng. Or at least one of her prime targets. And all because she didn't get to eat Triteia. Sheesh. Talk about holding a grudge. But then again, I suppose for a cannibal who didn't often get the chance to dine on her favorite food, Scylla's anger should have been expected, if not understandable. It would be the equivalent of a carnivore forced to be a vegetarian for years, then presented with a juicy porterhouse only to have it snatched away at the last second. Yeah, I'd be pissed. I don't know if I'd go on a rampage and kill a herd of cows but I'd be pissed.
Ready, my love?Kyanite asked.
So very ready, Ky.
With an army of sea dragons on my side, my attack would be overkill at best, but I'd be damned if I let the Lóng subdue Scylla all on their own. I didn't come along to sightsee.
The ironically upbeat melody of “Sticks and Stones” by The Pierces thrummed through the water around me. The nearby silver dragons swung their heads toward me in shock. Yeah, that was pretty much the usual reaction when people first discovered that I could throw my voice and therefore sing underwater. I grinned at them wickedly as the magic filled me and then I started to sing without bothering to move my lips—not as strange as breathing underwater but close.
With my first words, Verin roared. It was a command; the Azure Army split into groups and surrounded Scylla—even the water above her. Dragon heads snarled and whiskers lashed like whips as we closed in. My magic gathered and zoom-lensed on the monster before me. I sang about being the one she wanted, trying to keep her focus on me. But once she was surrounded, Scylla must have realized that she'd made a huge mistake—a dragon-sized mistake. She started to panic, tentacles cracking out and teeth gnashing. She didn't so much as glance at me, even when I sang about breaking her bones and draining her blood. Yes, they were violent words but the one good thing about trying to capture an immortal was that you didn't have to be careful about how much you hurt them. Scylla, in particular, had renowned healing abilities. I could have probably removed a couple of her heads and she'd still survive.
I struck out with the savage lyrics but the oddest thing happened. Or didn't happen, rather. I couldn't feel the magic connect. It rushed out toward her but didn't hit her. My spellsong seemed to have no effect. I sang on despite this, intent on getting my strikes in, but I stuttered into a growl when Verin's claws made contact and sliced off a tentacle. He had no trouble attacking her so why couldn't I? She should be bleeding a hell of a lot more than the insipid flow that misted around the stump of her severed tentacle. Her bones should be breaking by now. How the hell was she evading my magic? Was it the water? Did it protect her?
Out of frustration, I abruptly switched to another song. The music stuttered around me as Kyanite fought to keep up. The happy-go-lucky melody shifted into something grating and pounding. I went straight into the chorus of “Flesh” by Simon Curtis. It was a naughty sex song, but all I cared about were the words. I needed the power of teeth sinking into flesh to get Scylla's blood flowing. This was the perfect song to tear into her until she surrendered.
Except that song didn't work either.
Only Verin and his soldiers were able to damage Scylla, which left me feeling completely useless, baffled, and very annoyed. I snarled and would have launched myself off of Verin's back to attack Scylla physically if she hadn't abruptly crumpled to the ocean floor, her hands pressed pitifully against her wounds. I pouted and sat back against Verin's fins as he nodded to his soldiers.
