The line where the sea met the sky was moving... it covered the newly risen sun, blocking out the fragile light of the morning sky, and raced toward them as a wall of shadow.
Erich’s neck was craned backward by the time he realized what was happening. The enemy hadn’t stopped their attack. They were merely drawing all the water they could into one area to create a single, giant, colossal wave.
Dozens of commands ran through Erich’s head, but nothing had prepared him for this. “Brace yourselves!” He wanted to shout something helpful, to make a plan, to get these men to safety. But there was nothing they could do against the wave rolling toward them, gaining height and momentum as it sped through the vast amount of available water.
The water pushing the wave from behind finally crashed over the top of the rolling monstrosity, surging upward in a thunderous crash of white foam as the wave broke.
In the next moment, the ship’s deck was suddenly flying above Erich’s head. It made a deafening boom that drowned out the sounds of the screaming sailors.
As he sank into the water, everything went silent.
Chapter 6
When she finally noticed the first rays of sunlight, Aizel felt as though she had lived through a thousand lifetimes.
Her body was not new to exhaustion—the taskers had seen to that—but guiding Mola through the waters while keeping their path straight by watching the hazy stars above the surface had taxed her completely.
She was cold, tired, and struggled to breathe the limited air the seal provided her.
Fortunately, the arrival of the sun prompted Mola to swim up to the surface in search of heat. For a short moment, Aizel’s head was pushed above the water, then she splashed back down as Mola flipped onto his side, seeking maximum sun exposure.
Aizel quickly righted herself and scrambled to reach for him, pulling herself back out above the surface as they floated side by side.
“Thank you, Mola,” she said, giving him another scratch. “You swam fast and well. I could not have done this without you.”
Soon, she would be free.
She would make sure Celesta was safe—forever—or she would die trying.
While still a child, Aizel had not known that her life was difficult. Working from dawn to dusk and going hungry were her normal.
It was not until Celesta—sweet, funny, innocent Celesta—had become Aizel’s little sister and best friend that Aizel began to question the reality around her.
Because Celesta could not hear, she could not learn the proper songs with which to channel magic. And taskers had no use for a Majis who could not control magic.
Most Majis remained silent at the risk of angering a tasker, so they had been able to keep Celesta’s difference a secret. But she was nearly twelve, and soon the taskers would discover that Celesta was quotidian. They would probably send her directly to the water caves to mine for rare minerals. No one who went to the water caves lasted long. Or, they would keep her alive for the quotidian men at the northern port, which was a fate worse than death. And, from what she’d heard, no one lasted long there either.
No, Aizel would let neither fate befall her beloved sister and best friend. Even though she was somewhere in the middle of the sea with a giant sea creature, with whom she could not communicate, she was farther from the Istroya than any Majis had ever been. Except for those who had escaped with the River’s Talon of course. She had to succeed.
She had no idea how far she had come, but without the stars to guide her way, she could no longer chart her course toward land.
Aizel flipped onto her back, keeping her shoulders positioned over Mola’s sunbathing body. She noted the locations of the disappearing moon and the rising sun.
There was no landmark anywhere on the horizon she could use to reference her direction. For now, she would have to do her best to continue moving away from the eastern morning sun.
Suddenly, her small hopes disappeared and the emptiness of her surroundings sent a moment of panic into her tired mind. She was going to die here, alone, in the middle of the ocean.
Even though her face was above the water, she struggled to breathe, feeling crushed, stifled, and out of control. She might be far, far away from Istroya, but she still sensed the oppressive feeling of Quotidian magic and the taskers chaos that had drained the life from within her.
She felt as helpless as she had all those years ago, when the taskers had affixed a white ribbon around her neck, silencing her voice to prevent her from using her magic against them.
She felt as though she were sinking.
Clutching onto Mola, she looked around her. The water was fine.
But Mola wasn’t. Mola felt it, too.
The giant sunfish deftly flipped back into a vertical position. Water churned around him, separating them.
