Several dragons shifted into human forms while chains were cast onto the sand by others. The men surrounded the monstrous weeping heap and started to restrain her. But before they got close enough to touch her, Scylla shot upward, snatching one of the men with a trailing tentacle as she went. She torpedoed through the dome of dragons above and shot back to her mountain with her flailing hostage, leaving a cloud of ink in her wake. The murk concealed her escape but there was only one place she could have gone.
Verin roared and gave chase, piercing the dark cloud. He shot toward the mouth of the cave but had to pull up short; he was too large to enter. I dismounted and started to swim inside, but one of his clawed feet latched around my waist and yanked me back. I whipped my head around to glare at him, and he bared his teeth at me. The message was clear; he didn't want me going in without him.
As I grimaced, Verin transformed, his body compacting into human. Naked and glorious, he swam past me and several more naked men started to follow him. I cut them off. It was bad enough that Verin had held me back, I wasn't about to get pushed to the end of the line too.
Bones littered the rocky floor, wedged in crevices or stuck along the walls as if someone had done a half-ass job of sweeping. Other than the remnants of Scylla's past meals, there was nothing in the cave. Verin headed toward the back of the cave and into another passage. I followed him into a tunnel. Darkness dominated the tunnel for about fifteen feet until a glow started to seep through the black. The light originated from somewhere deep within the den, drawing us closer. Sound was dampened in the water, at least for me, so there could have been movement up ahead but I didn't hear it. It didn't matter. Scylla was outgunned and cornered, unless she had a secret way out, she wouldn't escape this time.
Human form made the dragons slower but we still managed to reach Scylla's lair in less than five minutes. It was far back and down within the hill, the tunnel going nearly vertical at one point. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn that we were beneath the seafloor. We came out of the tunnel into a vast cavern, brightly lit and cluttered with a collection of human detritus scavenged from the ocean floor. Ancient stone statues, covered in coral, stood beside mangled pieces of metal hulls. Vases peeked out of the sand along with anchors and tarnished platters. Piles of chain sat beside piles of gold coins. Trash and treasure, tossed together as if they held the same worth. And amid all of this flotsam and jetsam laid Scylla.
Her body hung backward over a modern ship's wheel, her heads sprawled apart on their thin necks and her tentacles—those that remained—limply draped over cracked pieces of pottery painted with images of Egyptian gods. Blood blossomed from a gash in her chest, forming red clouds in the water. Above her, a silver dragon loomed. He stared at us balefully and made a barking sound to match.
Verin grimaced but nodded crisply in acceptance; the guy probably didn't have a choice. Scylla had nothing to lose and she wasn't a creature to go down without a fight. But she'd made a mistake by taking a hostage and an even bigger one by giving him enough space to shift.
Her killer transformed back into his human form and bowed deeply to Verin.
“Let's take her body with us,” I urged Verin. “Something about this is bothering me.”
Verin waved the other men forward and motioned to the corpse. The soldier who killed Scylla widened his eyes in surprise—either over my request or the fact that Verin had granted it—but made no protest as the body was carried away. We exited the cave somberly and those dragons who had waited outside instantly realized that something was wrong. Their silver bodies tensed but when they saw their comrade emerge in one piece, a notable relief swept through the ranks. Scylla's body gave them pause but it was greatly preferred to the body of a fellow soldier. As much as I'd wanted Scylla alive, I didn't blame them for their relief. I would have felt the same.
Verin shifted back into his dragon form and roared. There was a strange cadence to the sound and when some men swam back into the cave, I realized that it had been a command. I assumed he wanted them to search the den for evidence while the rest of us waited outside, guarding the entrance. Scylla's partner could have been lurking nearby, waiting for an opportunity to strike. It wasn't the time to let our guard down. I settled onto the ledge before the mouth of the cave and scanned the sea for any sign of life, ready to do battle in an instant—singing or otherwise.
But nothing could have prepared me for who appeared.
Chapter Eighteen
The Azure Army formed several rings around Scylla's home and circled it in a slow spin with the layers swimming in alternate directions. There was no way that anyone could get past that whirlpool of dragons or the scouts who floated above Verin and me. No way unless that person was made of water.
A familiar face formed before me—high cheekbones, a patrician nose, lips neither full nor thin, almond eyes, and a gracefully sloping forehead. Even with the translucency of water leeching him of color, I recognized Darcraxis immediately.
I flinched away from the water specter of my husband, knocking into Verin's scaled side. The Blue Dragon's head swung around to see what had startled me just as Darc's watery form caught my arm to steady me. Verin bared his teeth and let out a warning growl that summoned the innermost line of soldiers. A barrier of silver scales and sharp teeth encased us.
“Stand down!” I threw my voice and held out a hand. “It's just Darcraxis. He's a god of water; he can take this shape.”
Verin grunted—yes, even in dragon form he grunts—as if he'd already determined who it was and it didn't make one whit of difference. In fact, I got the distinct impression that he would have been happier to see Scylla suddenly come back to life than my husband in his water guise. As much as roars and grunts traveled through water well enough, the Lóng couldn't magically cast their voices as I could. So, when Verin spoke, the water muted the sound. However, he made sure to compensate for that by raising the volume and lowering his face to Darc's.
“Release her now!” Verin demanded.
When I'd been taken by Gargo—back when he was inhabiting my grandfather's body—Darc's fear and desperation had summoned the return of some of his god magic—at least, that's what we assumed—and Darcraxis was able to find me when I was physically touching water that he was also touching. In other words, I'd been in the Atlantic Ocean and so had he, albeit much further away. We were in the same body of water so he was able to find me, but that was only when Gargo had taken me out of his palace andintothe water. There had to be that physical contact for the water to act as a conduit. Darc had also managed to create a representation of himself out of water, one that he could condense into something solid. All that being said, his water body had no vocal cords. In short, he couldn't respond to Verin. Or to me, for that matter. But, he'd thought of that and had come up with a solution.
Next to Darcraxis, another body took shape in much the same way that his had. Except that this body wasn't a magical manifestation but a living being and it continued to solidify until a woman—dressed in a string bikini with shells in her hair—floated in the water before me. She was an Asrai—a race of shining ones who lived in water and could transform their bodies into that element—but she hadn't been born an Asrai or any other kind of shining one. Aunt Alexandra had started her life as a Spellsinger.
Girl, what are you doing?Aunt Alex asked in a disapproving tone... inside my head.
Asrai are telepaths; they can project their thoughts into the minds of others—a very handy trick to have when you live underwater. From the way Verin's face twitched, I assumed that she had something to say to him as well. Asrai can project their thoughts to several people, holding separate conversations with each one, all at the same time. I have no idea how they could split their focus like that; the mere thought of it hurt my head.
I love him, Alex,I said to her as I tried to dislodge Darc's hand from my arm. It was impossible; for such a wet grip, it was stubbornly firm. Then I projected my voice to say, “Darc, I'm sorry I haven't contacted you. I'll come back to speak with you soon.”
Verin's tail snaked forward to wrap around me possessively. Evidently, he didn't like the sound of that. Darc, however, glanced irritably at Verin's tail but only shook his head at me.
He can't hear you,Alex interpreted.His form can only perceive visuals.
Then please tell him that I'll speak to him and the others soon but they need to know that my feelings have changed. I want a divorce and the wedding to Slate is off.
A divorce!Alex shrieked, her expression turning horrified.Are you serious, El? You were a goddess with this guy. You built worlds together. A whole fucking species! You're fire to his water, remember? You do not want a divorce. That is the spell talking. Vivian says that she thinks there has been some outside interference.
What's that supposed to mean?
Darc hadn't released me and Verin was done with waiting. He snarled as his claws slashed through Darc's forearm. They sliced Darc without resistance—like passing through a ghost. Darc didn't even glance at Verin, his water eyes were focused on me, speaking volumes. Sad, angry, fucked-up volumes.
