Page 91 of Claimed By the Depths

Even in my accusations of Ellira turning a blind eye to my pleas, it was clear in the peacefulness her domain granted me that she’d always been there. Not once had she abandoned me. In the quiet nights after Malrik had his way with me, the audible wrath of the ocean slid through the barred window of my chambers. When bruises littered my flesh, every gentle caress of her breeze over my skin had been a reminder that, even though I was lonely, I was never truly alone.

As my mind wandered, I settled my attention on the horizon. Golden rays pierced the minimal cloud cover, dancing across the water’s surface with a glistening sheen. Birdsong drifted by, carrying with it a promise of betterment, of a future where natural order returned and magic ruled. Just like the tales of the lands had stated, mysticism was meant to leak from Wraelira, and I wouldn’t rest until the realm the Damned crafted was restored⁠—

A gasp tore from my throat as an unsuspected hand settled on my shoulder. Instinctively, my fingers closed around the hilt of my dagger, and I pivoted. Raising the sharpened edge to settle against a throat, my gaze lifted to meet seafoam blue irises.

“Well, this is awkward,” Kael teased, the corners of his mouth tugging upward.

Retrieving my blade, I slid it back into my belt. “By the fucking gods, you could’ve announced yourself!”

“I did.” He stepped around me and up to the gunwale, positioning himself to my right. “You were just too transfixed by your mother’s marine to realize it.”

Unable to prevent my eyes from rolling, I turned back to the skyline as I tried to settle my racing heart. Wind lapped through my loose locks, tousling them beneath the bandana Caspian had offered and helped me tie before we stepped out to meet the others. Leaning into the solace my mother offered, I allowed silence to fall and rested my head on Kael’s shoulder.

We stood side by side in the blanketed stillness, comfortable without the need to exchange words. He was the quiet pillar, someone beyond capable of providing counsel without having to utter a single syllable. Even in the face of hardship and loss, he’d carried the same grace. But I questioned it, not because it was disingenuous, but because he’d lost a key piece of himself the day Percy passed.

Exhaling, the question came from me as a near-whisper. “How’re you doing, Kael? Truly.”

There was a pause before he said, “As okay as I can be.”

At his admittance, I leaned back to peer up at him. “You know, there is no expectation for you to be okay, right?”

“Yes, but what other choice do I have, Rohen? Honestly.” Striations rippled across his jaw as he peeled his gaze from mine. “There is no time to indulge in mourning when we are on the precipice of war. The Others are breathing down our necks with the promise of our demise, and our realm is crumbling beneath their corruption. Far too many people and other celestial beings have been butchered without so much as a second thought.”

Grabbing his jaw, I forced his attention back to me. “That is not your fault, and you can’t blame yourself for King Marellan’s foolishness.”

“But it is my fucking fault!” Nostrils flaring, he shook his head. “I am heir to the throne, and if I am incapable of replenishing these lands and rescuing the lives that occupy them, then I am no better than that pitiful man. That is the weight I carry. Knowing damn well that if I take the time to reminisce, if I allow myself to wallow over Percy and all that was robbed from me, then the kingdom I wish to oversee, to protect, will fall. I’ve already failed once, Rohen, and I can’t… I can’t again.”

“And you won’t fail,” I promised, my tone unwavering. “You won’t because we are here to offer aid. You’re not alone, Kael, just as you do not have to bear the weight of the desolation your father’s rule has left behind alone. I am here. Alastair is here. Leilani, Caspian, Syoran, Ignis, and Parran. For fuck’s sake, so are Lorelie and Sapphira.” Stroking the side of his face, I prayed my touch brought even the slimmest inkling of comfort. “You will rule over Wraelira, and with your presence on the throne, there will be peace. I am wholly confident in that. But I need you to know that these battles, the trenches we are going to have to crawl through to ensure that happens, will never be taken on alone. We are not alone. The gods and their love for our realm carry our sails, and we, all of us, steer the course. We⁠—”

A shout tore through my utterance, belonging to one of the deckhands. “What the fuck is that?!”

Kael and I moved from our positions, rushing starboard to where the men had gathered. Planks creaked beneath our feet to announce our arrival, and before anyone could offer an explanation of what they saw, I hoisted myself up onto the gunwale. Shouts roared to life behind me, hands trying but failing to prevent me from doing the very thing I knew Caspian would scold me for. Knees greeting wood, I peered down at the depths separating us from Alastair’s ship, and the sight that greeted me stole the air from my lungs.

The sea bulged upward first, stretching into a dark, impossible hill before the water split apart. A vast crown of black flesh emerged, slick as polished stone and veined with pale scars that caught light for only an instant. Rows of cold, luminous eyes opened one after another across its broad head and along its darkened gums—four sets each. Fixed in different directions, the creature watched every corner of the horizon at once.

Long, trailing curtains of living tendrils drifted beneath its jaw, swaying with the grace that belonged to the deepest currents rather than the open sea. Continuing to rise, layered ridges armored its unimaginable size, and its fins swept back, shedding torrents of seawater that fell in thunderous sheets. The wind died in its presence, the waves flattening as it searched both ships, and as I crested the side of the vessel, its wandering gaze found mine.

“Holy gods…” I breathed, freezing beneath the indignation that illuminated its all-white irises.

Visible in my periphery, movement came from Alastair’s ship before that unmistakable timbre cut through the air—Caspian. “Godsdammit, Rohen, get off the fucking gunwale!”

“What the hell are you thinking?!” Alastair called after him. “Plant your fucking feet on that deck now, Levitte.”

Unable to look away from the enchanting yet haunting monster below, I welcomed the brush of Ellira’s essence against the back of my mind. “There is no need to be frightened, Daughter.”

“Is that… one of yours?”

“All creatures of the sea belong to me, so yes.” Her hum eased my frayed nerves, my unsteady stance solidifying in her presence. “Thryvossa, the Black Thirst, sister to Yxalune. She is known among sailors for her ability to shapeshift—a wall of slick flesh, a fin the size of a mast, an eye like a sunken lantern that lures before devouring whole. She is wrath and decimation, but she does not swim beneath you with such feelings.”

“Then why is she here?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.

“To show you her devotion. As a guide and protector, a force to be reckoned with. She is yours to command, Rohen, just as Yxalune is. They are both well-acquainted with the fact that you will be the new Mother of the Sea when we mesh with one another.”

“I… When that happens… The summoning?”

“Yes, sweet one.”

“That means I must say goodbye to you,” I whispered, an emotion I couldn’t name swelling in my chest. “I haven’t even⁠—”