Her lips are peeled back from her teeth, forehead a crush of fine, snowy brows as she heaves serrated breaths, eyes blazing with a heartbreaking mix of pain and rage.
She doesn’t understand …
I close my eyes, choking beneath the oppressive weight of this harsh reality.
‘Go little man. Make big jump. Zykanth find big treasures. Make little savage one not mad.’
He’s right. Prolonging this hurt isn’t going to make it any better. I just need to go.
The quicker I go, the quicker I’ll return.
“I’ll be back,” I rasp, sliding back a step.
Another.
My feet tingle with the promise of frills and scales.
“Coming back,” I growl, and a snarl saws up her throat.
When I can no longer take the pain in her eyes, I spin.
Run.
Leap.
The fall is too swift, the plunge too slow—the water a crispy gulp to my sea-starved heart.
I pull a breath through my gills, feeling the power of the ocean pour into my bloodstream as my bones stretch and swell, jaw popping.
Skin ripping.
Shortsshredding.
A slew of piercing teeth spears down from my expanding gums with clamping might, scales peeling upward and smothering my soft skin. Water wings sprout from between my ribs, fanning, and my legs bind into a massive, mighty tail.
With a powerful churn of our body, Zykanth spears through the crystal clear like a silver speck in a sky full of black—a desperate, heart-pounding dash. The ocean rumbles against our skin, and an angry current begins to shove and pull.
Twist and heave.
To gush against our scales and make our frills flutter.
Shit.
‘Faster, Zyke! We’re too out in the open!’
‘Quiet. Zykanth not focus when little man whine.’
We spear toward the shifting icebergs, their glistening roots reaching into the dark depths. We worm between their shifting might, slurped down tightening gaps, chased by booming blows as we narrowly avoid being crushed—once.
Twice.
We come to a vast, empty space—the next iceberg a distant beacon in the gloom.
‘Little man hold big rib.’
I do as he says as we surge into the emptiness, the dappled, flickering light coming from above barely a match for the darkness surrounding us, almost at the berg when a coiling whirlpool appears below.
A hungry current thatsnatchesus.
