Page 26 of Greed of Giants

With a roar, it exploded from the water, a thick, serpentine body, legs waving, a wide maw hissing before it turned around and dove back under the waves. A wall of water splashed over the boat, soaking all of us from head to toe.

Harlan dug in his oar. “Row,” he called.

Killian rowed. The boat shot forward.

I held on, willing us to reach the shore before something else foul and unsavory came after us.

We were almost there, the taste of the earth, the surety of something solid underneath my feet so close. Just a few more feet now.

Two of the serpentine beasts reared out of the water. A scream tore from my lips as their slick black bodies blocked out the light. They waved centipede-like legs as they hissed. When they dove back into the water, the boat rocked, sending waves of water over us.

“Row, row, row!” Harlan shouted.

But Killian dropped his oar overboard and stood, upsetting the delicate balance. Fire rippled up his skin, cracks of it exploding across his back as he fisted his hands together.

“No,” I shouted.

We were too close to the shore, too close to the village. People would see us. Seehimand his fire. Desperation came, but a wave of heat knocked me back. Dimly I heard shouting, commands in a garbled language, and the hissing as those beasts swam near.

Then. . . nothing but an inferno.

Fire blazed across the water, engulfing the creatures. It scattered across the docks, burning the ropes and all the boats bobbing innocently in the waves. Fire blazed up the grass, catching, spreading.

Shouts and screams came. Smoke stung my throat. My eyes burned, and the scent of charred, fishy flesh made my stomach churn.

Then the boat itself was burning.

Jasper barked. Harlan shouted. But Killian was nothing but a pillar of fire, and we were all about to be caught in his inferno.

The bags meant nothing.

I jumped over the side of the boat, intending to swimfor the shore. Cold water shocked my lungs. Salt stung my eyes. I kicked toward the surface, toward air.

Something wrapped around my ankle and dragged me down.

The mirror of water above me rippled, flickering orange light. My lungs screamed, and I thrashed, kicking at whatever held me. It must have tasted my fear, growing strong off my desperation, for the tug on my leg tightened, and its speed increased, taking me away from the surface.

Pressure built in my chest, my hands flailing. The fading light above me grew smaller.

Then.

Darkness.

12

Killian

Screams of pain and fear filled the air, and I felt nothing but the heat, the chaos. Then. Panic. It slammed into my chest as though it were my own, and when I turned around, the boat was sinking, its hull swallowed by black water. She was gone. Bags bobbed in the water while Harlan shouted in the old tongue, ordering the sea monsters to attack.

In seconds, I understood what had happened. Ilaris the Scholar, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Harlan, the mortal guardian, ensuring nothing escaped the island, calling monsters to his side because he understood the old language. Thousands of years and still they guarded, not a surprising turn of events. Opposition was expected, but I would be ruthless.

Jasper. Take the bags to shore. Wait for me and be ready to run.

I dived as his response resounded in my head.

Hurry.

Yesterday the water had been clear, with no sign of monsters. Today it was a writhing sea of dark that snuffed out the fire that lived in my blood, smothering the flame degree by degree. Within those depths, I had nothing but my strength, yet time was against me. How long would her lungs hold? How much had Harlan guessed and how much had she told him? The idea that she might be responsible for this treachery irked me. But that was the way of mortals, was it not? Treachery and deception. Betrayal for small gains.