He reached out, beckoning. “We need to go. You can’t be near the water at night.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not safe. Come on.”
He stepped forward and gripped her shoulder, tugging her away from the stream. Off-balance, she knocked the salt cellar into the current.
“No!” Asherton cried, lunging after it, but it slipped away. Something splashed in an eddy downstream, and Asherton tensed. “We need to go. Now. Come on!”
But before he could pull her from the stream, a slimy hand shot out of the water. It curled around Magdala’s ankle, as cold and slick as an eel. She shrieked and kicked, but bony green fingers dug into her skin, pulling her down the bank, into the dark stream.
Asherton dove on her, wrapping his arm around her chest. “His eyes!” he shouted, pointing. Two luminouseyes glowed near her foot. She kicked at them, her heel slipping off their slick surface, and the fingers released her.
Asherton hauled Magdala to the bank, then dragged her to her feet.
“What was that?” Magdala gasped, but Asherton clutched her hand and took off through the trees. Magdala could only stumble behind him, trying to keep her feet. She dropped the jacket, but when she turned back for it, Asherton refused to let her go.
“Come on, Mags!” he urged, gripping her arm.
Behind them, the stream swelled, and a bioluminescent green figure burst out. It was the strangest, most arrestingly horrible creature Magdala had ever seen. It stood as tall as a man, with webbed toes and fingers, and a large dorsal fin, like a fish, ran down its back. Fixing its bulbous eyes on them, it opened its mouth and let out a warbling cry. Its jaws were lined with sharp, conical teeth.
Magdala slowed in horrified astonishment, and Asherton accidentally yanked her off her feet. She slid in the leaves. Asherton grabbed her around her waist and she staggered up.
The creature bounded after them, its webbed feet squelching on the detritus. Magdala sprinted, passing Asherton, then, in the habit of following him, she fell back. He pushed her in front of him.
“Quick!” Asherton panted. His hand was tight in hers, crushing her fingers. The forest ended abruptly, and the ground gave way to a rocky decline. Waves grumbledagainst rocks, and the great shimmering sea spread before them. Shuddering, Magdala dropped Asherton’s hand.
Running ahead, Asherton ordered, “Into the water!”
“But if he’s aquatic …” she objected.
He turned, his arms extended, beckoning. “He won’t touch salt water! Come on!”
She hesitated.
“MAGDALA! This is not the time for …”
She screwed her eyes shut and blurted, “I can’t swim!”
The creature broke from the trees and barreled toward them. With no other choice, Magdala ran toward Asherton, but her foot slipped and she fell. Asherton sprinted back toward her, but he wasn’t fast enough. Before she could stand, the creature was upon her, its slick fingers digging into her hair. She tried to scream, but water filled her mouth. It streamed out of her nose, choking her.
Asherton screamed her name as she scrabbled in the sand, gripping her throat. Her lungs were heavy, her mouth and nose pouring. She could not inhale, or she would drown. She was already drowning.
Panicking, she reached for her shotfire, but before she could raise it, Asherton dove on the creature. It let out a wet shriek as they rolled down the embankment. It writhed, its arms and legs flailing, and then it twisted, grabbed Asherton by the throat, lifted him, and slammed him into the ground. Magdala’s lungs cleared. Her sinuses burning and her eyes streaming, Magdala drew her knife, but Asherton rasped, “Don’t!”
She hesitated, and in that instant, Asherton jabbed his fist into his attacker’s eye. Magdala darted forward, snatched up a rock, and cracked it on the creature’s bald blue head. It staggered, and she lunged at Asherton, but he was already on his feet. They collided, Asherton’s hands closed on Magdala’s waist, and he flung her down the beach toward the water. The creature was up in a blink, and as she ran toward the waves, she could hear its feet sliding in the sand and its breath whistling through feathery gills.
Her feet slowed as she waded into the warm sea. She splashed deeper, deeper. The waves crashed over her, the moon shimmering on their glassy swells. Water closed over her shoulders.
Chapter 29
“Ican’t swim!” she spluttered. “I can’t swim, Ash!”
“It’s alright! Come to me.” He reached out and she clung to him.
Warm, frothing water closed over her head. She wrapped her arms around Asherton’s neck, kicking frantically.
“I’m drowning,” she gurgled.
