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“You swapped places without telling us?” I asked, suppressing the slight feeling of betrayal I felt at McKenzie and Serena’s secret plan.
“The fewer people who knew, the less chance to mess it up. It had to be believable.” McKenzie raised an eyebrow as she sat up, holding the side of her face where Bastian struck. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“You could’ve been killed. And how did you have Serena’s voice?” My eyes drilled into her.
“Bastian’s not the only one who can keep voices in his jewelry.” She moved her hair away to reveal the necklace Serena normally wore—a white and blue piece of sea glass set in gold. “Looks like that acting class I took for an elective paid off.”
I hesitated, debating whether to express my anger or save it for another day. I chose the latter. At the sight of Bastian knocking Milo back with his dark magic, I stuffed away my feelings about the secret plan and summoned my water back. This time it came to me fast, rushing like the blood pulsing in my veins. I drew it upright, and sent a cyclone at my command twisting toward Bastian like a raging cobra.
It only held him back for a moment as he met its force with his own shield of shadow and water, but I summoned all the water I could sense in this place and created an impenetrable wave that I sent rushing toward Bastian. I had to keep him away from Serena as long as possible. If she could find the Crown, this would be all over, I told myself as sweat formed on my brow from the effort. Bastian’s power was strong, and it clashed against mine in an explosion of black and blue as he fought to break through
“Keep at it!” Milo shouted, charging toward Bastian. He tackled him with enough force to break his dark water hold on mine. With nothing holding it back, the water flowing from my hands shot forth, blasting Bastian across the room
In an uncomfortable silence, with only the sound of water dripping, I paused, watching a sopping wet Bastian groan as he stood slowly. The water in my hands felt like a weight, tangible, alive, and ready to be summoned again at a moment’s notice as I drew back the water I’d just used. I couldn’t afford to lose the strength of even a drop.
“Remember,” Bastian licked a tiny drop of black liquid —either water or blood— from his curling lips. “You can’t kill me. But I can certainly kill you.”
“I don’t need to kill you,” I spat. “I just need to keep you away from the one who can.”
Milo rushed to my side, and together we blocked the door through which Serena had escaped. Bastian growled, an unhinged rage in his breaths that came fast and hard. The black liquid streaming from his mouth grew heavier, dripping in thick clots. His shadow on the floor began to shift, forming into shapes and curves that didn’t quite match Bastian himself.
Milo and I backed up as much as space would allow, our eyes fixated on the horrific transformation happening before us. Bastian grew larger, at least three feet taller and the rest of him in proportion as he shifted into a half-man half-monster before us. Wraith-like shadows curved from his back, writhing like snakes dripping with the same black venom as the liquid on the floor and from his mouth.
His already snake-like eyes began to glow like yellow pits of fire through the sludge of black water drenching his entire body. His voice morphed into a deep, growling version of something supernatural beyond recognition. After everything I’d seen, I thought I couldn’t come across anything that truly scared me anymore. But this—this shadowy sea demon in front of me—left me frozen in place, short of breath as I tried to find the strength in my legs to keep from buckling.
“Good luck keeping me anywhere!” Bastian roared, his devilish voice grating against my ears as it shook the ground. He raised himself, lifting himself off the floor with nothing but black smoke and water beneath him. Hovering over us, he reached forward, his dark water reaching for me like a giant arm. Milo leapt in front of me, yelling for me to leave.
Just as the shadowy water struck, a burst of bright golden light sparked from Milo and sent Bastian’s shadows flying back with a crackle. Bastian screamed in anger or pain, I couldn’t tell which, as Milo stood staring up at him in shock, visibly shaken from what just happened. I noticed his sleeve had been torn off in the clash.
“Milo, your arm!” I pointed to the glowing sun tattoo on his arm. Yellow light lined the marking like golden, sacred veins—the same light that had deflected Bastian.
Milo gripped the marking with his other hand. “The sun. The Island. The light overcomes the dark.” He spoke as if trying to remember something or rehearsing a line to himself.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s protection. Protection from darkness—from the dark lord of the seas. Protection from Davy Jones.” His eyes slowly shifted from his glowing tattoo up to a fuming Bastian. “Katrina, he isn’t just controlled by Davy Jones…”
“He is Davy Jones,” I muttered. It occurred to me all at once. The legend behind the strange cruelty of the seas. The one sailors feared for hundreds of years. The one who collected the souls of the dead at sea…
The Collector, I relayed my thoughts to Milo with my song call. The things in his collection aren’t just things. They’re souls.
Trapped souls. Milo reiterated.
“I am he!” Bastian boomed, stepping closer and closer with the inky sludge of his shadows cloaking him. “The dark lord of the seas. Cursed to this human form by Poseidon himself, but more powerful than any man.”
“Poseidon cursed you once. What do you think he’ll do to you if you kill her?” I spat.
“The gods of old are long gone. Without her, I’ll be the last supreme being of the seas…as it could have been all along if she had chosen me instead of that useless mortal.” Bastian snarled, sharpened teeth showing through the black water continually trickling down his face. “You may have the mark of the sun to shield you, but you’re not the one I’m after.” He struck the wall beside us with a burst of shadow and water from his hand, sending it crumbling to the floor and shaking the remaining walls.
“He’ll collapse the whole fort.” I watched the stony residue and pebbles dropping down on us from the ceiling.
“I don’t think he’s concerned about that.” Milo uttered. Together we watched dumbfounded and completely baffled as he crashed through the wall and the shadows around him slithered across the floor, carrying him toward his destination—Serena and Bellamy.
48
Written In Stone
Bellamy
