of choice. Our world, the human world, the worlds we can’t see are
made up of threads, like the web of a spider. Everyone you meet is a
thread in your web of life, and you are a thread in the web of the
world. Your cousin Brendan led you here. Your friends protect you with
their lives. You sought the Naga but chose not to slay her, despite
the stories Isi told you. I have dozens of prophecies in my head, but
I chose to believe in you.”
I lick the dryness from my lips. “He’s connected to me too, isn’t
he? Kurt. And Nieve. Can they see me, the way I see them? In dreams?”
The Tree Mother touches my forehead with the back of her hand.
Fever sweat rolls down my face. “Not here. But when you go back, I
believe they will. First, you must be here and now. You must see the
creatures you are going to raise.”
The oracle places Amada’s hand in mine. And as we lie side by side
in the sweltering tent, I close my eyes.
“What happens after I see?”
I hold Amada’s hand like an anchor to this place. She squeezes
back.
“Then you must find the seal and destroy it.”
The seas are breaking.
Before I shifted into my tail, before all of this, I still felt
the longing to be in the sea. My dad used to joke that I took longer
showers than my mom. And even though I was doing a little more than
showering, I needed to spend as much time as possible in water. The
beach. The pool. Running in the park during a downpour. I could feel
the torrent of the waves, the angry tug of the tide on long summer
nights.
Now, under the oracle’s spell, I can feel the sea ripping apart.
It is the eye of a hurricane over a long spread of ocean. The air
is thick with salt. I am Kleos, eldest king of the seas, and in my
hand is the Scepter of the Earth.
Beneath me, the sky falls away. I’m on the back of the biggest sea
horse I’ve ever seen. It’s as big as a ship, and so am I, holding on
to its mane as it dives into the waves, its webbed claws parting
expertly, its fins pushing us to the surface.
Then I realize the sea is not breaking. The kings are riding the
giants of the sea. I can feel the thrill of being on the back of the
creature, and a name comes to mind-Doris.
Doris, like the mother of the sea nymphs. I can feel her in my
thoughts telling me that the other kings are nearby. Somewhere in my
mind I remember Gwen teaching me the names of the kings.
Further out to sea, King Ellanos breaks the surface on the arm of
a kraken. His jet-black hair is tied away from his face, while mine
blows free in the wind. Ellanos looks so much like Adaro, his
descendant. He holds on to the tentacle like a mast. The other
tentacles lash out, with skin like rippled armor. I light my scepter
and blast them. Doris neighs and a booming laugh comes from me.
Then the third king-Trianos-emerges from the water. I can see my
grandfather in his fierce eyes, his golden skin. Trianos holds a
harness in his hand around the mandible of a turtle, the other hand
wielding the Trident of the Skies. The turtle has spikes all over its
shell, and a curved horn jutting out between its eyes. It breaks waves
that push us away.
The storm answers the call of the weapons, on and on. Mile-high
waves crash over us, and we remain rooted on our giants.
Then I see my chance. I whisper something to Doris. I never was
much for languages.
We dive, the sea horse’s webbed forelegs and long, scaled tail
ripping through the sea, and we break the surface where King Trianos
rides the horned turtle. The creature is slow but strong. I jump off
and onto the back of the spiked shell. I’m fast and I know it,
knocking the king with the Scepter of the Earth so hard that he falls
backward, sliding off the shell.
I grab his forearm. The king screams wildly. The turtle heaves.
And we both fall back.
My insides ache as tentacles ram into us, knocking me into the
waves. A warning screams in my head. Watch out! But I don’t see until
it’s too late. A tentacle wraps around me and squeezes. King Ellanos,
his golden eyes glittering because he thinks he’s got me. I blast
energy through my scepter, but the energy goes straight into the sky
as the tentacle lifts me higher and higher.
Then a shock runs through me, my heart stopping then racing as the
tentacle lets me go. I fall into the sea, but Doris cuts through the
water and I grab on to her mane. We break the surface once again.
Lightning streaks the sky. Eight tentacles writhe in pain, and
slowly they sink. King Ellanos floats on the surface, barely
conscious, the Staff of Eternity gone from his grip. I watch as King
Trianos slides the head of the trident into the staff. His hair is
white as surf, his violet eyes bright in the darkening storm.
I hold on to the pain in my chest as my blood darkens the seas
around me and Doris whinnies from the gash in her flesh.
“Surrender, my friend!” King Trianos shouts from atop his giant
turtle. “Live for your people. Our people.”
I can feel Doris’s consciousness slipping. Stay with me.
But she can’t. She’s too weak. If we keep fighting, she’ll die.
The power has shifted and I know this.
“Catch, old friend.” I throw the scepter like a lance, the quartz
a brilliant crystal that pulls on the lightning around it.
Trianos catches it and completes the trident. The trident.
When they connect, I’m pulled out of the vision, like getting
sucked out and lifted into a vacuum in outer space. I can see the
king-my ancestor-as he buries the giants in the sea, deep inside
separate caves. The powerful creatures I’ve been searching for.
The beasts protest, ripping through the earth until they fall
asleep. Hearts still beating beneath layers of rock and sea. Sleeping
Giants.
Then I’m pulled further out still.
I’m me again, standing in front of Chrysilla-the nautilus maid. I
feel like I’m holding my breath. I need air. I try to open my gills
but they’re clamped shut.
Chrysilla is under water, the pink fleshy tentacles of her hair
floating around her like a halo. Her eyes are dazed and wide open.
They are mirrors, and in them, I saw the three kings fighting for the
trident.
Chrysilla is alone, her hands pressed to the sides of her nautilus
shell.
Glass shatters around her and settles on the floating dead bodies
of her handmaidens. Someone has slit their throats. But Chrysilla
doesn’t move. She comes into focus. I can feel the cold water on my
skin.
“Don’t forget me, Tristan Hart,” she says, putting her hand around
my neck and bringing me right to her face. “Please, don’t forget me.”
Her hand doesn’t loosen up and I gasp awake. Here. Now.
There is a real hand around my neck.
I’m in the Vale of Tears. In the oracle’s tent. I know where the
seal is. I know what I have to do to break it. The same promise I made
to the nautilus maid days ago. “Don’t forget me,” she said. But it
isn’t her hand around my throat. It’s Karel’s.
“Die, Land Prince,” he says. “Die.”
By now I should be used to people trying to kill me.
But somehow, it always comes as a bit of a shock.
I mean, I’m a pretty cool guy. A likable guy. Ask all of my
buddies back at Thorne Hill High School. Not my ex-girlfriends so
much, but I’m working on that, I promise. Once we’re friends, there’s
nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
The minute you try to kill me, it’s over.
I grab Karel’s throat and land a punch right across his face with
the new calluses I have him to thank for.