Chapter 14 #2
The presence pulsed once more, and Dolph felt the shift—the water rising, lifting something upward. A slow, guided current spiraled upward from the loch’s depths, carrying the precious cargo toward the surface.
A bubble.
A boy.
Zohar.
Relief crashed through Dolph like a breaking tide. His body weakened with relief, but he pushed upward, arrowing through the dark.
Hang on, Zohar. We’re coming.
The light from the boat shimmered like a distant star above, and below him, the guardian of the deep emerged out of the black depths. A gentle, solitary creature seeking a way home.
Everything was dark.
Heavy.
Still.
Zohar drifted through the water like a leaf caught in the slow breath of the deep. His arms floated weightless at his sides, legs curled loosely beneath him. The bubble holding him had grown thin, the air inside cool and stale. Each breath was shallow now. Tight.
He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the tremble in his lungs as the oxygen thinned.
Calm, he told himself.
Stay calm.
He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and steady. He imagined his father beside him—Zoran’s deep, even voice echoing in the back of his mind like the lull of waves against a shore.
“When your strength wanes, listen to the world around you. Let your senses expand. Everything is energy—everything is movement. Find it. Use it.”
Zohar breathed—shallow, steady. His dragon stirred sluggishly in the back of his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like a protective coil.
Something’s coming.
The words were soft. Curious. Not afraid.
Zohar’s eyes opened, blinking against the haze inside the bubble.
At first, all he could see were shadows.
But then—
A shimmer.
A flicker of movement.
And from the black, a shape emerged.
It glided through the water with the grace of a dream—a creature of myth and magic.
A broad, rounded body that sparkled with silver and green scales.
Four massive, webbed feet paddled lazily, trailing wisps of movement.
Its long neck curved like an elegant vine, and at the end of it…
a head with two enormous, liquid eyes that glowed softly in the dark.
Zohar held still.
The creature hovered just beyond the thin wall of the bubble, watching him.
Not with fear.
Not with threat.
But with curiosity.
Zohar raised a trembling hand and pressed it gently to the bubble’s surface. His fingers spread wide, and he gave the creature the faintest of smiles.
“Hey,” he whispered, the sound barely audible in the thinning air.
The creature tilted its head, as if listening.
Then it moved closer—and nudged the side of the bubble with its nose.
The bubble shifted upward.
Zohar’s eyes widened as he felt the motion. The current shifted again as the creature glided underneath him, gently pushing from below—lifting him. Carrying him toward the surface with the careful strength of something ancient and kind.
But the air—
His lungs seized.
His fingers twitched.
A sharp pressure built in his head and chest as the oxygen inside the bubble ran out.
Too slow.
The edges of his vision blurred. He slumped sideways, barely aware of the motion. The darkness swelled, waiting to pull him under.
Then—
A flash of movement.
A swirl of magic.
Dolph.
He appeared like a streak of living silver, hand raised, eyes wide with fear.
With a flick of his wrist, a spiral of pressurized water surged beneath Zohar’s bubble—catching it in a burst of momentum and rocketing it upward.
The surface exploded around him in a shimmering arc as the bubble burst.
Zohar gasped—his first real breath in what felt like forever.
Cold air slammed into his lungs. He coughed, gagged, choking on the desperate need for oxygen. His arms flailed weakly, fighting to stay afloat.
Then something solid rose beneath him.
A broad back. A shimmer of scales.
The creature emerged, lifting him from below. He clung to it, chest heaving, arms wrapped around its slick body as he struggled to catch his breath.
Dolph surfaced beside him, face pale, eyes wide with concern. His hand clamped firmly onto Zohar’s shoulder.
“Breathe,” he said hoarsely. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”
Zohar gasped again, nodding weakly. The burning in his lungs began to ease.
A watery grin tugged at his lips.
“We… we found her,” he rasped. “Nessie.”
Dolph let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, his expression caught between relief and something heavier.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “We did.”
But then his gaze dropped.
His smile faded.
“What is it?” Zohar asked, his voice still raspy.
Dolph looked up, pain flickering in his eyes.
“The humans took Juno.”
Zohar’s breath caught.
“No.”
“He was pulled onto a boat. I couldn’t stop them.” Dolph shook his head. “I couldn’t protect him.”
Zohar groaned and tried to sit upright, gripping Nessie’s back tighter as she floated beneath him, tail sweeping slow arcs in the water.
He turned his head, eyes narrowing.
In the distance, bobbing up and down on the rough surface of the loch was a boat, long and sleek, sitting low in the water.
It had a long, glass-covered center section, open stern, and a top deck lined with seats.
Dark figures moved on deck—humans, he guessed.
Some standing. One seated, wrapped in a blanket.
Juno.
Zohar clenched his jaw and turned to Dolph.
Dolph nodded grimly, his fingers already curling into the water’s edge as he prepared to move.
Zohar turned back toward the boat, his dragon stirring fully awake behind his eyes.
“We’re getting Juno back,” he said, voice hard.
Dolph nodded grimly. “You bet we are.”
And Nessie was coming with them.