Page 159 of Storm and Sea

“Marina will wait for everyone before announcing the winner,” Atreus said, using his hand to block the sun, searching for the last few racers. A moment later, a single curly blond head slowly made its way up the hill.

“Way to go, Edgar!” Leo shouted, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Whooo! You got this!”

Leo encouraged his brother and jogged alongside the bike, lifting a cup of water to the boy’s lips without slowing his pace. When Edgar started the downhill trek, Leo hollered after him.

“See you at the bottom, big man!”

“He did so great,” Nyel praised.

“He’s come a long way. Proud of that kid,” Leo said, fondness making his eyes sparkle.

“Let’s congratulate him at the bottom.” Atreus cleaned up the paper cups and tied them in a bag he’d retrieve later.

As they rounded the corner, they mused about the race and what next year might look like. From this angle, Atreus could see the entire path down to the bay. The hill was steep and cleared of debris for the cyclists.

“There he is!” Nyel shouted as a distant figure barreled down the slope, approaching the final corner.

“Way to go, Edgar—” Leo’s cheer died in the air as they watched everything go wrong. The front tire of Edgar’s bike shook violently, the wheel coming loose from its spokes. The handlebars jerked from his grasp, and the bike careened into the railing overlooking the sea. For a second, that was it: a ruined bike, some bumps and bruises.

It was as if the world had slowed to a grinding halt. The back of the bike kicked up like a horse, the bars jammed into the railing, and the momentum sent the bike flying.

And Edgar’s body flew with it.

He barely had enough time to let out a feeble yelp before disappearing over the edge, falling… falling… falling…

“EDGAR!!!” Leo yelled, diving to the rail, Nyel and Atreus hot on his heels. They searched the cliff yet saw nothing but sharp black rocks jutting from the surface like the cracked teeth of the ocean’s maw. Water smashed against stone as the tide surged, bringing wild, white-capped waves that crashed against the cliff face like an enraged god.

Leo’s foot was on the railing in less than a second before Nyel wrapped both arms around his waist, hauling him back.

“Leofel, no! The rocks! You can’t!”

But Leo wasn’t listening as he struggled against Nyel’s hold.

“Edgar!” he shouted again, his voice cracking.

The seconds dragged like decades. Leo wouldn’t survive the fall. Likely, Edgar hadn’t either. And then, with cruel simplicity, only three things existed. Atreus, the sea, and a choice.

He looked to Nyel, who’d half-wrestled Leo to the ground.

Their eyes connected, holding onto one another, sharing a silent conversation that surpassed the need for words. Nyel’s gold-speckled eyes widened as Atreus moved.

“Atre—!”

But Atreus didn’t hear the rest as wind rushed at him from all sides.

And he fell.

“Leofel, stop!” Nyel shouted as Leo half dragged him to the rails. “The beach! We have to go to the beach.”

Leo jerked from his grasp and flew down the lane without a word. Nyel followed but couldn’t keep up with Leofel’s long sprints. The square flew past in a blur, and in seconds, Nyel’s feet met the sand. He wasn’t alone. Dozens of the townsfolk witnessed the crash from the base of the hill, and already men ran to the docks, intent on firing up their boats for a rescue mission. But there was no point. The rocks were too cluttered, the waves too unpredictable. The boats couldn’t do more than hover around the edges as helpless spectators.

Nyel nearly followed Leo into the surf, his feet halting inches from the water’s edge.

“Edgar!” Leo shouted, already waist-deep.

Several men who’d already waded into the water grabbed his shoulders, stopping his progress.

“The waves will tear you to shreds, ragazzo! You cannot.”