Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
TOBIN
A lot of things happened all at once when Lusca let out her shrill scream.
Sawyer fell to the ground, his face etched with pain, one hand pressed to his head as if it might split apart. His other arm was bent all wrong, and Tobin knew that had to fucking hurt.
Salem twisted in pain too. His human form was new, though Tobin didn’t have time to dwell on that.
Because it felt like the air pressure dropped, or maybe the sound waves caused a negative subspace, or a vacuum. That noise, that squeal, made the insides of their heads feel as if they were imploding.
And Lusca used that moment of distraction to her advantage. She ran at Salem, collected him in her grotesque misshapen tentacle arms, and dove into the water.
Ciaran ran for Sawyer. Tobin expected nothing less. Sawyer was injured, and Ciaran could never be anywhere else. He should be with him.
Aurin wailed and was already running back to the pier, and Fray grabbed Tobin’s arm so they could follow him.
They had to stop her. They had to save Salem.
If not for Aurin’s sake—they were clearly together—then for the hundred questions Salem had to answer.
Tobin had seen into his mind. He’d seen that it was, in fact, Salem. He’d seen the connection to Aurin, and he’d seen what Salem was.
Who he was.
And oh boy, that was a whole conversation Tobin didn’t want to miss.
It was really no surprise that Lusca wanted to go back into the water. She was stronger in water. She was stronger, far more capable—and lethal—in her true form. Bigger, too, and with twice the number of limbs.
That shockwave she’d sent out on land that made everyone lose balance would have been so much worse underwater. The high-pitched scream would have been worse underwater as well.
It explained the effect on sonar, electrical, and animal.
So yeah, Tobin thought he was prepared for what he’d see under the surface. Bigger, stronger, sure.
But he was not prepared for the sight that greeted them.
He wasn’t prepared at all.
Lusca was fucking hideous.
She was a mottled greyish colour, her skin like that of a shark. But she was misshapen and grotesque, as if molluscs had found a home on her body. Her limbs weren’t smooth and tapered. They were gnarled and lumpy, with a random spike on a few of them. Her eyes were big and black, lifeless.
And she was huge.
Her size was actually hard to fathom, and the way she held Salem to her body was disorienting. He was in freeform now, his black body so small in comparison.
He was changing shape rapidly. And not the way they usually did. Cephamorphs could flatten, balloon, stretch, and elongate the same way octopuses could, that was true. But they still looked like themselves. They were still identifiable.
Salem was different.
His shapes were different.
He was morphing into other things, other sea life, blinking in and out so fast, Tobin found it difficult to catch them all. A black shark. A beaked sea snake. A pelican eel. A giant isopod. Was that a vampire squid?
It looked almost like he was glitching.
But he was, Tobin realised, changing shape in an effort to squirm out of Lusca’s hold.
But her long limbs wrapped around him and held him fast, and she stayed there, suspended for a few seconds, smiling, waiting.
Lusca, let him go! Aurin yelled, his voice strung tight.
She laughed, and then with terrifying speed, she was gone. Back out toward the open sea.
Tobin and Fray followed on instinct. Aurin, too, the fastest Tobin had ever seen him swim. Marten, Arvid, and Lukas were behind them, which kinda surprised Tobin.
Otis, Pania, Koa, and Te-Ariki had been with them, but Tobin could no longer hear them.
The big Māoris weren’t built for speed, especially over longer distances.
And maybe Kellan had to stay and help Sawyer, which meant Hendrix and Dylan were out too. They wouldn’t be able to leave Kellan.
So it was just the six of them.
Against Lusca.
Fray shot him a look as they swam, and Tobin realised then that he’d been so intent on chasing Lusca, focussing all his energy on swimming as fast as he could, that he hadn’t realised he hadn’t heard Fray.
He’d had his walls up, his mind closed off to anything but the task at hand. If Fray had been trying to talk to him, he hadn’t heard.
It wasn’t a small effort to open his mind to him while exerting so much energy swimming, but he managed it.
Fray.
Oh, nice of you to join me. Been talking to myself. Pretty sure Marten thinks I’m crazy.
Sorry. Focused.
She wanted us to chase her. She waited for us to chase her, and she’s headed straight to the Trench. That’s not good, Tobes.
No, it’s not.
Aurin’s scared as hell. He loves Salem. Then his mind flipped through images like photographs, snapshots of all the times Aurin had been with Salem in cat form. A fucking cat, Tobin. What the fuuuuuck.
Tobin chuckled. Oh, he’s more than that.
You know what he is?
I saw in his mind.
Marten called him a Mimic. A fucking Mimic. I thought those things were a myth.
Kinda.
Did you see him change rapidly when she was holding him? Pretty sure I saw him as a sea cucumber. Of all the fucking things.
Tobin chuckled, but then something grabbed one of his arms, and he stopped and spun around, ready to attack.
It was Marten. He recoiled defensively, eyes wide.
Fray was immediately between them. Tobin, lower your walls. We can’t hear him.
He’d blown out his defences to include Fray without even thinking about it.
Sorry, he said, retracting his walls.
I’ve been calling to you, Marten said. He was pissed.
Sorry. I was too focused, Tobin said. He realised then that they were near the Trench. The drop-off just a few metres away. The water was eerily quiet and oh so dark.
It felt as if the ocean was holding its breath.
We need to keep going, Aurin said, panicking. Salem’s down there—
We need a plan, Marten countered. Arvid and Lukas were on either side of him, and they clearly agreed.
You four follow her directly. Fray and I will go in behind, Tobin said.
There is no element of surprise here, Marten said. Your tattoos are like glowing beacons, and she will hear you before you even get—
She cannot, Tobin said. I have... I have ways to make us silent.
Like you were just now, Arvid said.
Yes, sorry, Tobin said. It’s instinctual, and I’m still learning, but yes.
Oh, you’re learning, Marten said. You’re going to hinge our safety on a skill you haven’t even mastered yet—
Tobin glared at him and ballooned his defensive wall around just himself and Marten so no one else could hear.
Listen, motherfucker, he said. This skill I have works just fine, and right now it’s the only fucking chance we have, so keep your superiority complex to your fucking self and help make this plan work.
Marten’s eyes went comically large, and he reared back. Arvid and Lukas grabbed him, and Tobin let his bubble burst.
We couldn’t hear you, Lukas said, touching Marten as if he was testing to see if he was unharmed.
Arvid glared at Tobin. What did you do to him?
Showed him how I’ve mastered my fucking skill, Tobin replied.
Okay, the plan, Fray said, trying to simmer the tension down. We’ll surprise her from behind, and I’ll hit her mantle with as much electrical charge as I’ve got. Then we all attack her. Aurin, you—
He turned to speak to Aurin, but he wasn’t there. Fray raced to the edge of the Trench. Fuck. He’s on his way down. Then Fray pointed at the Norwegians. You three, go with him. Fray and I’ll go that way. Wait for our signal.
Fray grabbed one of Tobin’s arms and pulled him to the north. They watched Marten, Arvid, and Lukas pause at the drop-off as if they needed to dig deep to find their resolve, then they slipped over the edge and disappeared into the darkness.
Fray and Tobin went further along for a short while, and then it was their turn to descend.
The Trench split the ocean floor like a scar—vast, lightless, endless. A void where even the current seemed reluctant to pass. Cold poured from it, thick and suffocating.
The world below was a cathedral of pressure and darkness at a depth that was both frightening and immense. As they descended, what little light they had fractured quickly, dissolving into dim blue before fading into black.
But they did not need light. Their tentacles combed the rocky edge, feeling as they descended. Knowing all other sea life had long vacated the area helped. Lusca was their only threat.
But still, Fray covered his tattoo as they went, and Tobin kept Fray under his protective bubble. They moved as a unit, spreading just enough to move faster, never breaking the invisible thread that connected them.
And further down they went, where the pressure confined them like invisible hands squeezing and squashing. Tobin normally liked the water pressure at depth; he liked how it kept him restrained and the feeling of peace. But this... this felt... wrong.
Dangerous.
It felt as though the abyss itself was a tangible thing, and it was leaking upward. The water grew colder. Still.
Yeah, I’m not loving this, Fray said.
Me either.
Can you see her?
Tobin’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness, but no... Not yet.
So they kept going, slower as the water pressure allowed, and then Fray stopped, and his hold on Tobin’s arm tightened.
What was that? he whispered, even in his mind.
Tobin froze, tightening the shield he’d put around them. Then he felt it. The seafloor moved. Not an earthquake, nor a shifting of tectonic plates.
This was different.
This was the earth opening, like a mouth, like a yawn. Water was displaced, sucked in and expelled out, and Fray and Tobin clung to the rocks to hold on.
A rift in the Trench’s floor had appeared, and then Lusca was there, a movement in the darkness. They weren’t directly behind her, more at her seven than her six. But they could see she still had two arms coiled around Salem.
A motionless Salem.
Is he...? Fray asked.
I don’t know, Tobin whispered.