I opened my eyes again.
The form was coming into closer focus as it continued toward us. The shifting mass was tentacles. So many tentacles.
And it was moving faster.
Fear burrowed into me like a tick.
A Kraken was hunting us.
An immediate paralyzing terror locked my limbs. This had to be a nightmare. Shock transformed to disbelief. I pinched myself.
I couldn’t wake up.
“It’s a Kraken.” My breathy rasp was swallowed by the wind. I strained, beginning to scream with rising intensity. “Kraken! It’s a Kraken!”
We’re in the middle of the miasma, past Raevar. There’s no escape.
I shut down that thought, panicking would waste precious seconds. And right now every second counted.
We needed to prepare ourselves before it reached us, or we would die.
I scrambled down the rope ladder, fingers sticky with perspiration and rainwater.
“Secure all running rigging! Everyone arm yourselves!” Brialla shouted.
A swarm of panic set in as I landed on the main deck again. People were running back and forth, grabbing odds and ends as Brialla barked instructions from the helm. Crewmates were trying to form a barricade of crates on the side of the Arc facing the Kraken. Someone else carried up an armful of weapons from below deck.
Georlan was frozen in place by the railing, staring in horror at the approaching shape, Veridiana and Pasha beside him.
“We’re all going to die,” he whispered, trembling.
Before I could blink, Veridiana reached out and slapped him. “Keep it together! No one’s dying today. Who’s gonna heal my battle scars if you lose it? I won’t have this beautiful face ruined like Rosa’s because you were busy pissing yourself. We’re going to throw everything we’ve got at that abomination, kick its ass, then have drinks to celebrate.” She grabbed a spear from a nearby barrel and shoved it at him.
Georlan stared at her in shock, expression transforming to resolve as he squeezed the spear.
Where is everyone else?
Zevrial swept out from below deck, strong arms wrapped around a large barrel. Setting the barrel down, he pulled out a long line of barbed rope from inside it. He ran to one end of the Arc, attaching it to the framing on that side and draping over the railing edge of the Shadowtide like vicious tinseling. His movements were precise as he wrapped it around the rails, tying it off again on the other side. His hands didn’t have a single drop of blood on them, despite the densely packed spines on the barbed rope and the crates that impeded his reach.
A prickling buzz tickled my ears.
Lightning flashed, a second passed, and another boom echoed out across the air.
Zevrial pulled a savage looking bow and quiver from one of the nearby barrels, slinging it over his shoulders and grabbing a sheathed sword in one fluid motion. He looked fierce, like a warrior ripped straight from an ancient war.
His eyebrows slid down as he turned my way. Our gazes locked.
Looking at him was like pouring acid on an open wound. I was still ripped open from his thoughtless words. Raw. Angry. Hurt.
But seeing him again also felt like a splash of cold water, jolting me awake from deep sleep. He looked tantalizingly beautiful, harder and starker than my memory could capture.
I still wanted him. Cared about him.
There were a thousand things I wanted to tell him. It crowded out everything else until all I could hear was a frantic buzzing in my ears as he strode toward me.
“You still owe me a Skinscript,” I said. And why was that what came out of my mouth?
He attached the scabbard to his belt. “If we make it through this, I’ll give you as many as you want.” Somethingwarm moved in his eyes as he stared at me. “We’ll talk it out over some calamari.”
