36. Chapter 36 #3
The beast of a crab squeals and begins bucking and thrashing about.
Desperately, I try to hold on, cold air whipping around my face, and it’s all I can do to avoid the flailing claws.
A roar escapes my lips as my fingers are ripped from their positions.
My stomach lurches as I fly through the air and land with a hard thud that steals my breath, the silk of the sand doing nothing to stop the jolting of my bones.
My heart swooshes in my ears, and I try to move, but it’s too late.
The furious crab is standing over me, and Lord help me, it has long, sharp fangs ready to take a bite of me.
Instinct kicks in, and I shove the blade in its belly.
The crab lets out a shrill shriek that’s almost unbearable to my ears, but I told Micah I would fight, and I’m fighting. I’m trying to survive. I will survive. I pull my blade out, and when I go to stab the crab again, a blade is shoved under his chin. “Roll!” Micah shouts at me.
I roll and roll some more until I’m sure I’m clear of the crab, and I’m on my knees with the blade ready for attack when the creature collapses on the sand.
Micah stalks toward me, a graceful panther, a predator pursuing his prey, and I’m that prey, and I’d be smart to remember the ease with which he kills.
“I told you to fucking read,” he snaps, impatience in his scolding.
“I told you we’d start training tomorrow.
What the fuck were you thinking coming down to the beach without me? ”
With a shove off the ground, I straighten, ready to square off with him, sheathing my blade before I cut him for being such an asshole.
“Stop saying ‘fuck,’” I demand, poking a finger in the air at him, “and you never said the beach was dangerous. It seems like you might want to mention the gloriously beautiful beach has giant crabs.”
He steps toe-to-toe with me, towering over me, and I can almost taste the anger etched in his dark scowl. “I told you the forest was the easier walk. Now you understand why. And they never come to shore unless you boil them.”
“I almost died, and all you can do is lecture me? Really? Stop making me read everything and tell me what you know, and maybe I wouldn’t be here right now. To humans, beaches are about rest and relaxation. We don’t fear giant crabs.”
He eyes the cauldron and grits his teeth. “What the fuck is that?”
“I told you to stop saying that. The house showed me a spellbook—”
He catches my arm, and not gently, yanking me to him, our bodies colliding, intimately close, a mix of his anger and his magic a current dancing along my skin. “We talked about this,” he bites out. “You’re too powerful to play with magic you do not understand. You wait on me. Wait, Ember.”
“You didn’t say anything about me being too powerful to play with magic. In fact, you told me to believe in my abilities. I wasn’t trying to call the serpent this time. And I don’t have time to wait on you. Not when Jeremy is waiting on me.”
“Time passes differently here. How many times do I need to explain that? We have time, and training is everything.”
“Let me go, Micah, or I’ll do what any self-respecting human would do and knee you where your most precious Overseer jewels rest. I’d like to know if a Nephilim hurts with a knee as badly as a man.”
He grunts at the very idea and releases me, his hands settling on his hips. “I’m trying to protect you, you know that, right?”
“You told me to let the house help me. Well, the house gave me a book and even a page. It kept going back to that page. It told me what to try. And so, I did.”
“What spell?”
“Turning water to fire. And I thought it would be safer to try by the water, where fire can’t survive. The water in the cauldron did nothing, but the ocean started to boil. And why could I do that, but I can’t rift? I tried to just get the hell out of here, but I was stuck.”
“The beach is spellcasted with powerful magic to stop you from rifting.”
“Why?”
“It’s an extra safety precaution to ensure the homestead is safe.”
My heart starts to race. “You said no one could get in here. Can they?”
“No magic is infallible. You need to learn that. That’s why I take precautions on top of precautions.” He shifts the topic. “My men are at the house. They want to meet you. And no, we cannot rift out of here. We have to walk.”
I eye the cliff. “Why did it let me rift down here but not out of here?”
“It’s how the spell works, and I did that for my own reasons.” He rotates away from me and starts walking with the confidence of an Overseer who knows his subject will follow. He’s not wrong. I follow him.
I want off this beach where the beauty of the sand deceived me into a facade of safety. A little like the darkness of my destiny hiding behind the facade of my humanity for twenty-seven years.
And then, of course, there is Micah.
The Overseer with crystal blue eyes and an island that bleeds from the sky.
He told me demons can’t visit Elysium, but he spellcast the shoreline. If he’s not worried about demons, what is he worried about?