At least I might make it to the Falls. But I’ll probably die there, burned in Pyrona’s flames.
My breaths sobbed as more soldiers drew near. But I was swift, bringing down another two. I went to reach for another arrow but found none.Shit!I let go of the bow and hurled the quiver with a roar. The soldier I aimed it at stumbled to the ground. It was extra weight, I thought, so might as well. My focus was to run now, not to shoot.
Another three closed fast. Two, after I flicked one of my two daggers.
Marshen used his agility to take quick strides, then swiftly turned himself around, sword steady. He halted, his feet planted into the terrain. The soldier didn’t have time to stop. He ran himself through Marshen’s sword, chest first. Marshen slid it outof him, pushing the limp body off his sword using a booted leg. Blood trailed.
The other soldier, I quickly found out, was a Fire Wielder. I was glad that I had my hair bound tightly in a coronet, as his fiery blow would have certainly burned all of it. My bag took the hit. I couldn’t allow my waist sash to burn, so I shrugged the burning bag off my shoulders. Its lifted weight felt liberating.
The Wielder closed in. I went to reach for my other dagger, but Marshen used his sword as a spear and hurled it straight into the soldier’s neck. I gave up two seconds of my precious time and pulled the bloodied sword out of his throat. Then I tossed it up in the air. Marshen leapt and caught it by its hilt.
“Thanks,” he said, clicking his tongue as if we weren’t racing for our lives.
“No, no, no,” I mumbled beneath my breath. Steep rocks abruptly replaced foliage and trees, turning the landscape into a harsh land of black and brown. Climbing the sheer rocky cliff before us seemed impossible, even for Marshen. And so we were forced into the open—along the cliff. No trees remained to hide us, and more than a dozen pissed-off soldiers approached.
Mistgeil Island would’ve been considered close from up here, had there not been a sea of torment between us that made it seem like a faraway dream…and no, there was no bridge in sight. In other words, we were utterly fucked.
We took slow and steady steps, our backs to the cliff, Marshen’s sword lifted before him, arms held steady. My right hand was outstretched as well, clenching the dagger. My arm was bloodied down to my elbow, just as Marshen’s was. The blood wasn’t ours.
“Surrender or burn!”
And so I found myself on the edge of a cliff, my spine against Marshen’s, the back of his head resting on my crown. The name given to the sea beneath us was very appropriate. The spray ofwater—a minuscule fragment of the Depths—had us both soaked in seconds.
Marshen’s head repetitively tilted left to right as he shifted his gaze from the approaching Naari soldiers and the Wrathwater Depths. I knew he was weighing an impossible decision.
“I don’t know how to swim,” I said between heavy breaths.
“Everyone knows how to swim. You just have to keep your arms and your legs moving.” His tone was derisive as usual, but the way he swallowed and breathed did not give me the reassurance I needed. What was waiting for us was not a calm and serene bed.
“We won’t survive that,” I told him, and I believed it. But we wouldn’t survive the Naari soldiers that were gaining on us either. I could count more than twenty, some of whom were casually juggling fireballs on the palms of their hands, grinning in anticipation. The bells that had clanged out earlier attracted more of them, and they came, like vultures circling towards a decayed carcass.
“You have nowhere to go, peacebreakers,” the soldier who was dressed like someone of higher rank bellowed.We’re the peacebreakers? “Put down your weapons! You’re to be delivered to the Fire King himself for your interrogation and execution.”
Lovely.
“I have to tell you something,” Marshen mumbled.
“Now is not the time for storytelling. What in the gods’ names are we going to do?”
“Put down your weapons and raise your arms. Now!”
We both hissed, reluctantly letting go of our weapons, as the metal hilts turned fiery hot against our palms.
“Shit,” I spat.
“I’m a shark,” Marshen whispered.
“What?”
“I can shift. We have to jump. Hold on to my fin, all right?”
“Fishing nets, my ass,” I grumbled.
I took another small step towards the slippery edge and Marshen imitated my move. And despite the turbulent turmoil beneath me, for a little less than a second, all of the fear left me and I took that instant as my opportunity to decide between possible death or sure death.
“Now,” I breathed as I took one giant stride into the sea of wrath, sending a silent prayer to Thalassa, begging her to be merciful, to calm the waters.
Marshen followed.
