“You’re trying to steal Kit’s pendant!” Laurence talked at the same time, and over him. He closed the distance he’d lost, taking up a protective stance next to the still-kneeling kit. Dark eyes blazed in holy outrage, like he was an avenging angel and Austin the devil. Austin fought not to shy away from the anger.“That was basically Nick’s engagement ring to him; you arenothaving it.”
Kit’s hand shot up. He grasped Laurence’s wrist, squeezing hard enough to cause a wince. Laurence fell silent, giving Kit a confused look. Kit ignored it, his eyes remaining on Austin, a question in the way he tilted his head. An invitation to finish what Laurence had interrupted.
The suffocating silence following Laurence shutting his mouth did not invite questions.
Austin turned away so he didn’t have to watch them all flinch at his voice.
“See them out.”
He marched from the training pit alone.
Chapter Twenty-One
Someone’s footsteps followed him.
Austin whirled on his heel, glimpsing bat wings, and sympathy already formed on Reba’s face. He wanted to tear it right off his face. “Until you learn to fly properly, the only meals you’re allowed are those cooked on a beach campfire!” He didn’t want to see Reba’s reaction. He marched away.
Austin collapsed in the middle of his nest and hugged his knees to his chest. His body felt far away, and though he could see the marks his fingers dug into his legs, he didn’t feel them.
He wished, bitterly, that the pendant had belonged to people who didn’t despise him.
He didn’t move except to bow his head, shielding himself from the oncoming waves as they broke over him. Soon, the ocean was black, and Austin lay buried in its depths.
Tristan emerged abruptly from the dark and swam straight for him, brave or foolish enough not to slow. A snarl tore from Austin’s mouth, ripping through his throat on the way out. The surrounding water thrust away with enough force to shove Tristan back, and the sand shot out, cratering Austin’s nest.
Tristan’s warning cry registered too late.
The dislodged rock fell steadily down, hidden inside the billowing sand. He noticed it only as it struck his leg. The ocean muffled the snap.
His shin. His shin. Hisshin!
He swallowed a mouthful of ocean water.
Starting to feel—
Tristan reached him, fingers brushing his shoulder, just as Austin cried out. A fierce current ripped Tristan away. The underwater world became bedlam. Whirling currents ripped up the seabed, churning the sand until it spun around Austin like an underwater tornado. The rocks of his nest were being drawn into the vortex. The one pinning his broken leg shifted, but it was the heaviest of the lot and didn’t lift.
Austin shoved at it, crying out, making the madness around him worse. He couldn’t dislodge it. Sand clogged his gills. Panic clawed through him as he struggled to breathe. White-hot agony tore across his ribs, and Austin grabbed them, fingers finding newly formed and flaring gills. The relief of oxygen hit his bloodstream, and then the churned-up sand clogged the new gills.
I’m drowning.
Austin squeezed his eyes shut against the grit and shoved against the rock. The world swirled around, manic and wild and far from how he’d expected his life to end. That, he’d grown up knowing, would be an end like his predecessor’s: clinical dismemberment.
Austin’s panic reached a crescendo and flashed to defiant anger.He hadn’t survived Cessair only to die before he actually got to live. He wasn’t going outnow,when things were finally getting good!
He opened his mouth and screamed.
The weight of the rock vanished. Austin shot out of the underwater whirlpool, the need for oxygen burning throughhim. Tristan grabbed his arms and thrust him upwards. Austin breached the surface and sucked down a breath, spluttering as the air dragged against the inner workings of his throat like sandpaper.
Austin opened his eyes and then immediately sealed them shut. “Tristan,” he croaked.
“Let me.” Tristan guided Austin’s hands onto his shoulders. It was awkward and painful, but the merman helped clear the gunk from his eyes. Austin’s gills in his throat remained clogged, but the ones on his ribs cleared themselves.
“I hate sand.”
“I’m not terribly fond of it myself currently. Can you try opening your eyes?”
Austin did so with extreme caution. When a squint didn’t burn, he blinked and gazed at Tristan. He could just about make out the shape of his features and odd smudges on his cheeks.
