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A chance for what?
Seren tasted bile, then tried to hold on to the last vestige of reason.
Your Water. Your ocean. Your Water is giving you time. Your ocean stalled till you came.
“Let them go, Rathcross!”
Seren did not recognize her own voice. Desperate, afraid.
“Fuck you, witch! You will burn in hell! And I will save my wife from the flames!”
Rathcross lifted the gun toward the sky, and his voice turned into something Seren did not recognize. There was an edge to it, one of total abandon. One of complete assurance of righteousness despite the dripping blood on his face. Seren wondered if Victoria or Lark had gotten a swipe in.
“Father, I thank you for the gift of this child of yours! Bring her to the flock! Wash away her past and fill her with your joy!”
Baptism, Seren realized to her utter shock. Rathcross was baptizing Lark in the waters of the Lagoon.
Seren must’ve made a sound because suddenly his arm was coming down with terrifying speed, pointing the gun at her.
“I will erase you, witch. I will spill your blood and wash away your stench from her skin. You will drown in these waters, Crow.”
Seren let the words ricochet off her silence, then took a few steps forward, into the water, as Magnus dragged Lark farther into the Lagoon. The gun slid closer to Lark’s already bleeding temple. Seren lost what was left of her breath.
With the knowledge that her sisters were on their way, Seren looked around and did the only thing that she could. Her fingers flexed, and her Water obeyed. It shallowed at her feet instantly, pushing back into the open ocean even further. She needed to stall for time. And she needed to work the craft for more space. Actual space for Rathcross to back into before Seren would not be able to stave the waters off anymore.
“Ah…”
Dammit, words, fucking words!
Seren cursed herself and then blurted the first thing that came to mind. “All this mumbo jumbo and your choice of punishment is drowning? They used to hang us in this part of the world, you know?”
His laughter was not what she expected to be her answer.
“Oh, I know. My ancestors saw your kind dangle from the gallows, Crow! And they saw your kind burn, the flames rising so high and feasting on a sinner’s flesh!”
Something in his eyes was beyond delusional. Seren shuddered and went on.
Time, time, time… Please, let there be enough time!
“Then how about you set up a ritual spire, Rathcross? Why a gun?”
Seren knew her stalling technique needed work. She knew he would see through—
“I shall not be deterred from my purpose!”
Damn! Ceri, hurry, hurry, hurry!
Even as she sent a last prayer to her sisters, Seren waded deeper. Her hands finally touched the water, and the ocean responded immediately, not even waiting for her to call to it, the tide converging on her, as if sensing her, propping her up.
In the distance, Victoria’s head was hanging weakly on her shoulders. She was barely moving, and Seren needed her to get up. Needed her to fight, to get out of there, to get herself to the shore—
“You know that while he lives, there will be no peace, Rennie. Neither for Lark, nor for you, nor for the family.”
Seren blinked and saw Victoria’s eyes open, pale green shining with a terrifying light in the moon’s rays, watching her steadily. Was her aunt projecting her thoughts, or was the snippet of their conversation resurrecting itself in her mind? How many discussions had they had before about this, and Seren never realized what her aunt had been speaking of?
Victoria turned away from her, trying to keep up as Magnus dragged Lark deeper across the emptying lagoon. Seren felt her skin crawl. She knew exactly how deep and how much space they all had. And that left her with no other answer. No other way. Except for the way of the power.
It was time.
