Page 195 of Keldori By Daybreak

Italy’s coast line.

Another explosion shook the chamber, and Orla dropped to her knees to keep from falling into the Skal.

“Wren!” Ciarán barked.

“Wait!” I scoured the stone for recognizable features, but so few coast lines were as distinguishable as Italy’s. The strange deconstruction of the world’s coast lines made it all the more difficult.

I ran around the edge of the rock, searching.

Another explosion.

Sea water gushed into the basin around us as the tunnel walls gave way to Caitria’s magick. Iseult and Fana rushed to Orla on the spit, Una chasing after them. The electric hum of Skal weapons echoed off the chamber walls as Tiernan and Ciarán took up defensive positions on the steps that still remained above the rising tide.

“Let’s go, Wren!” Ciarán commanded again.

And then—

“I found somewhere!” I marked the spot with my backpack, then ran to where the sword rested. It sat in one of the line’s notches, marking the exit’s current location on some distant coast.

I drew it from its resting place, and rusted metal grated against stone. The sword was heavier than it looked, but I ran it around the perimeter to where I’d left my backpack.

It wasn’t perfect. It was still more than a day from home by car, but we’d be in the right country, on the right coast, and there was a notch for the sword right there.

And we didn’t have the time to find something better, because golden light burst and rocks and barnacles ricocheted through the chamber.

Caitria stood with sea water gushing past her boots.

“Hello, brother!” she called as her soldiers rushed past her to jump into the basin.

I slid the sword into place.

The island shook, but not from an explosion this time. It was like something deep within the pool had moved, heavy and grating. The Skal swirled in a new current.

“Go!” I screamed.

Caitria dove into the seawater and began swimming towards the island on the heels of her soldiers.

Iseult, Orla, and Fana clung to Una. Orla’s eyes met mine over Una’s back from where they stood on the center stone. Ciarán had used magick to refashion Jonquil’s crab cage into a sealed box. It shook in Orla’s free arm, but the cat would be more comfortable this way as long as someone survived to free her before she ran out of oxygen.

The first soldiers reached the steps, but the water was near level with the walkway at this point. Orange and gold Skal burst in Ciarán and Tiernan’s hands as they met the soldiers.

“Tiernan!” Fana called, but Iseult pulled her back when she tried to run back to Tiernan’s side.

“I’m right behind you, Fana!” Tiernan yelled back as he struck out at a soldier with dual swords of gold. “Go with Iseult. It’ll be okay.”

I nodded at Orla, and her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on Una.

The onchú leapt into the pool. The Skal slipped over their heads, hardly stirring in their wake, and the bright depths of the pool swallowed their shadows.

“Wren!” Ciarán waved at me to go faster, and I sprinted around the edge of the pool. He and Tiernan had dispatched the first wave of soldiers, but more were on their way.

“It’s too late, little Saergrim!” Caitria called as she reached the island. Her golden rope dart hummed in her hand, and she aimed for Ciarán but Tiernan intercepted its trajectory with his blade.

Magick itched in my palms, but I forced it to quiet. Any amount might set off the mountains.

“Take Wren, and go!” Tiernan yelled at Ciarán as he tangled with his sister. More soldiers climbed from the water, and Ciarán let loose one final burst of orange as he sprinted to meet me at the spit.

Blue light reached up for us like tendrils, and the metallic scent of Skal hung on the air to mix with that of torrid sea water.