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“The gods were deeply betrayed by humanity. They wanted your people to learn from your mistakes—regardless of who started it—or history will repeat itself,” he replied as his eyes continued to scan the blanketed surface of the sea.
Something frothed in the water just as I was about to reply, the disturbance interrupting our conversation.
“Arya,” he whispered behind me. “Row.”
We paddled frantically toward the isle and the small fortress built on its foundation. Any question in my heart was silenced by whatever lurked beneath the surface of the black sea. I glanced behind the vessel, but Azriel spread his sopping wings to block my view.
“Don’t look back,” he warned.
“Why? What’s in the water?” I asked, following his command. He didn’t answer me. He didn’t have to.
Next to the boat, the water churned, subtle at first, then turning into a boil. The roll of the water became so great the boat rocked in the wake it formed, and Azriel paused his paddling to slip lightly in front of me. I gave him room to pass on the small boat, feeling the slickness of his feathers, hanging heavily on his back as they skimmed my thighs. The water weight sent him off balance, making his footing uncertain as he tried his best to gracefully step around me.
“What are you doing?” I hissed as he nearly capsized us.
“We’ll never make it to shore, and even if we do, it’s unlikely to help us. The bloodspawn can slither on land.”
“Excuse me? What the blight is a bloodspawn?” I asked, my voice furious at the lack of explanation. He disregarded my confusion and hungrily scanned the churning waters as if he hadn’t heard me.
I opened my mouth again but was interrupted by a threatening splash in the water next to our boat. Something drug across the length of the hull, something big enough to make a scratch in Valdihr Oak. In the center of the vessel, Azriel raised an oar in his hand. A flash of light cascaded down the splintered wood and left something much grander in its shadow.
A sword.
I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was, but still couldn’t contain my astonishment as he turned the battered wood into steel. This sword wasn’t any regular blade—it was a relic. The gold gleamed against the moonlight, sending a promise of death shimmering along the razor-sharp edge. My gaze followed down the blade to the hand that clasped it, a pair of wings curved around the handle matching the silver ones of its wielder.
“Incredible,” I whispered in a shuddering breath. Azriel rolled the handle with his wrist, swinging the sword in a tight motion to show off his proficiency and experience.
He gazed over his shoulder, cloaked in a grimness I’d never seen him wear. “Stay in the boat as long as possible and try to row the rest of the way. If we sink, swim to the shore no matter what. If this boat capsizes, you cannot help me, the weight of my wings will only drown us both. Do I make myself clear?”
“I’m not leaving you—”
“Damnit, Arya, there’s no time to argue about this. You have to promise me—”
“I will promise no such thing. I willneverleave you.” I glided over the seat in front of me to slip snugly at his side. My hand pressed over the rounded edge of his shoulder in poor attempt to squeeze the stubbornness from his body. “We do this together, or not at all.”
The look on his face softened, and his eyes fell to my lips for a heartbeat. With no time for hesitation, no chance to think about the repercussions, he lowered his fighting arm and reached the opposite hand to the back of my head, pressing my face toward his own to kiss me. It was forceful, passionate, and full of desperation—how every first and final kiss should be. In the brief moment, I tasted the salt on his lips and felt the icy sting of their fullness against my own. Even in its fleetness, this kiss was one of the best I’d ever had.
I barely had time to return his advances before the sea exploded in front of us, sending a downpour of saltwater to drench us both. Through my wet lashes and burning eyes, I watched the water settle into a violent roll, and thrashing above the surface was a monster from the deepest pit of the blight itself.
“Row, Arya!” he repeated.
I scrambled for the oar on the ground, fumbling with the weight with numb fingers, and began to stroke the disturbed water towards the isle. The great serpent hissed, and I dared another look at the face of the hideous creature as I pushed weakly toward the shore. It’s scaled body climbed high above the water, rearing its head low by curving its neck to watch its prey. Great horns protruded from its giant skull, their points as sharp and deadly as the hundreds of teeth inside its snake-like jaws.
But something sparkled on its forehead, a stark contrast to the dreadful looking beast who slithered across the water. In the center of its forehead were three ruby red jewels, the scarlet color of blood and the only gemstones I ever desired to have.
“Azriel, look at its head,” I said above the hiss trembling the space between us. The great serpent licked the air and tasted us from where it tread.
“Aye, darling, I haven’t stopped looking at it,” he retorted.
“No, you fool, look at its forehead!” I snapped. Azriel’s eyes grew wide with understanding—the leystones belonged to the beast. My fingers trembled with a familiar urge. “Give me the sword, Az.”
His eyes snapped to mine for half a second before returning to the beast. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe. Just trust me!”
“That is the worst argument for—"
The creature roared into the night, interrupting our banter and rattling my teeth with its intensity. The blood curdling sound ended with his head flailing back into the sea, sending a giant wave, making our tiny vessel sway and lurch off path. I struggled against the wake to correct our course, but the rocking of the dinghy confused my balance and forced all my body weight onto my bad ankle. The sprain conceded to the pain, giving out and sending my figure tumbling toward the edge. Azriel crossed the small boat in a single step and yanked me upright with a firm grip on my arm. He then traded my oar for something I did not expect.
