But not everyone is celebrating.
Rainer stands apart from the revelry, staring at the horizon with a frown. The older sailors aren’t celebrating either. They speak in low voices, their eyes constantly returning to the water.
“I’ve never seen the tide pull back this far this fast,” an old sailor mutters nearby, his weathered face creased with worry.
More people are streaming down to the exposed seabed, gathering treasures from the revealed ocean floor, shells and coins and cargo from long-lost ships.
“This isn’t right,” Rhianelle whispers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
Before she can answer, Rainer’s voice rings out. “Rhianelle! Something’s coming!”
All heads turn toward the harbor mouth. The sea begins to glisten with something approaching. It’s moving fast, coming straight toward us.
Weapons are raised instinctively. Harpoon crews rush back to their stations.
“Hold!” Rhianelle’s voice cuts through the sudden tension. “Everyone hold!”
The shape breaks the surface and I see it clearly for the first time.
A seadragon, but smaller than the war beasts we’ve been fighting. Scars mark its hide and scales.
“Kiiska?” Rhianelle breathes. “Lower your weapons! She’s a friend!”
But the harpoon crews hesitate. After three days of fighting these creatures, the instinct to fire is almost overwhelming.
“Lower your weapons!” I repeat.
My voice brooks no argument. They obey reluctantly.
The young dragon approaches cautiously, as if aware of how close she came to being killed. Her movements are nothing likethe war dragons. She lacks their deadly grace and predatory confidence.
Kiiska seems exhausted. She has pushed herself past all limits to get here.
She speaks not with words but with meaning pressed directly into our minds.
Friend-queen!The voice is high and frightened.You must flee! All must flee!
Rhianelle wades into the shallow water heedless of the armor weighing her down. “Kiiska, what’s wrong? Why are you here?”
The young dragon’s eyes dart nervously toward the horizon where the fae fleet disappeared.
Father leads the deep singers now,Kiiska says, her voice rising with panic.He serves the Blood King.
She sends images directly into our minds. Seadragons swimming in perfect formation through the deep trenches. They position themselves along fault lines that run through the ocean floor, ancient cracks in the world’s foundation.
They’re singing.
The sound is beautiful and haunting. Where their song touches stone, the earth fractures and begins to slide.
I hear Rainer’s sharp intake of breath, his face turning ashen. “They’re creating underwater earthquakes…”
The water pulls back to gather strength,Kiiska continues, her voice breaking.It will come back taller than mountains.
“The fae weren’t retreating,” Rhianelle says, realization dawning. “They were getting clear of the blast zone.”
Kiiska nods frantically, her whole body trembling.
