Chapter 18 Svenn
Cheers rise as we approach the docks. Villagers crowd the quays, singing songs of valor.
I can barely focus on the words but it’s an old anthem that speaks of people who never yield.
They’ve been watching from the cliffs for three days, helpless and terrified.
Now their loved ones are coming home victorious.
Then I notice the tide.
The water in the harbor is receding, pulling back from the shore. Boats that were floating moments ago now rest tilted in mud. The seabed itself is revealed, covered in seaweed and shells and things that haven’t seen daylight in generations. Fish flop helplessly on the sand.
“A gift from the gods!” One fisherman cries, holding up a massive cod. “The sea itself blesses our victory!”
Fishermen on the shore are running onto the exposed seabed, delighted by this unexpected bounty. They laugh and call to each other as they gather the stranded fish in baskets. Children follow, racing to collect the flapping creatures.
“Look at them,” Garrett says, appearing at my side. He’s still bleeding from his wounds but he’s grinning. “They deserve this after everything.”
But not everyone is celebrating.
Rainer stands apart from the revelry, staring at the horizon with a frown. The older sailors aren’t celebrating either. They speak in low voices, their eyes constantly returning to the water.
“I’ve never seen the tide pull back this far this fast,” an old sailor mutters nearby, his weathered face creased with worry.
More people are streaming down to the exposed seabed, gathering treasures from the revealed ocean floor, shells and coins and cargo from long-lost ships.
“This isn’t right,” Rhianelle whispers.
“What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
Before she can answer, Rainer’s voice rings out. “Rhianelle! Something’s coming!”
All heads turn toward the harbor mouth. The sea begins to glisten with something approaching. It’s moving fast, coming straight toward us.
Weapons are raised instinctively. Harpoon crews rush back to their stations.
“Hold!” Rhianelle’s voice cuts through the sudden tension. “Everyone hold!”
The shape breaks the surface and I see it clearly for the first time.
A seadragon, but smaller than the war beasts we’ve been fighting. Scars mark its hide and scales.
“Kiiska?” Rhianelle breathes. “Lower your weapons! She’s a friend!”
But the harpoon crews hesitate. After three days of fighting these creatures, the instinct to fire is almost overwhelming.
“Lower your weapons!” I repeat.
My voice brooks no argument. They obey reluctantly.
The young dragon approaches cautiously, as if aware of how close she came to being killed. Her movements are nothing like the war dragons. She lacks their deadly grace and predatory confidence.
Kiiska seems exhausted. She has pushed herself past all limits to get here.
She speaks not with words but with meaning pressed directly into our minds.
Friend-queen! The voice is high and frightened. You must flee! All must flee!
Rhianelle wades into the shallow water heedless of the armor weighing her down. “Kiiska, what’s wrong? Why are you here?”
The young dragon’s eyes dart nervously toward the horizon where the fae fleet disappeared.
Father leads the deep singers now, Kiiska says, her voice rising with panic. He serves the Blood King.
She sends images directly into our minds. Seadragons swimming in perfect formation through the deep trenches. They position themselves along fault lines that run through the ocean floor, ancient cracks in the world’s foundation.
They’re singing.
The sound is beautiful and haunting. Where their song touches stone, the earth fractures and begins to slide.
I hear Rainer’s sharp intake of breath, his face turning ashen. “They’re creating underwater earthquakes…”
The water pulls back to gather strength, Kiiska continues, her voice breaking. It will come back taller than mountains.
“The fae weren’t retreating,” Rhianelle says, realization dawning. “They were getting clear of the blast zone.”
Kiiska nods frantically, her whole body trembling.
Father says the wave will reach the cliff tops of Kashran. It will wash the land clean of air-breathers. Nothing will survive. The dragon’s voice breaks entirely. I couldn’t let them. Not after you saved me.
“Sound the evacuation,” Rhianelle commands firmly.
Horns begin to sound, their urgent calls spreading through the harbor and into the city beyond.
Kiiska remains, floating in the shallow water. I’m sorry. I tried telling mother and father that not all land-dwellers are cruel...
“You did more than anyone could ask,” Rhianelle says gently. She reaches out, placing her hand on the dragon’s snout. “You risked everything to warn us. That means more than you know.”
“Everyone to high ground. Now!” Rainer orders.
Before anyone can move, the water beside us erupts.
A massive seadragon surfaces, ten times Kiiska’s size, scales gleaming with a sapphire metallic sheen. This is ancient power made flesh, a creature that’s seen empires rise and fall.
Ksatka.
Seven other dragons surface with her. Most are nearly as large as Ksatka herself except for one young male. He is slightly bigger than Kiiska but still bearing the lighter coloring of youth.
The mother dragon’s presence makes the air itself feel heavy and oppressive. Her eyes are depthless pools that hold centuries of wisdom.
Kiiska makes a mournful sound, something between a whimper and a plea. Mother, please.
I came for my daughter. The great sea dragon inclines her head slightly toward Kiiska. She speaks of debts owed. I think she forgets that your kind and mine are natural enemies.
Everyone on deck staggers as the voice fills their heads. Some sailors drop to their knees. My mate has taken a faction of our kind to move the earth beneath the waves. The water will drown all of you land-dwellers. Your walls will crumble like sand.
Gasps and cries of shock ripple through the crowd. People on shore begin to murmur in fear.
“How do we stop it?” Rhianelle demands.
Stop it? The seadragon laughs. You cannot stop the ocean, little queen.
“There has to be something,” Rhianelle says desperately, stepping forward into deeper water.
Ksatka is silent for a long moment, her great head swaying slightly with the motion of the waves.
The wave is not the worst of what comes. Ksatka’s voice grows heavier. My mate does not merely seek to drown your cities. He seeks to ensure nothing ever grows here again.
“What do you mean?” Rainer asks sharply.
He will poison the water with our venom, one of the silver-scaled female seadragons speaks, her voice gentler than Ksatka’s but no less terrible. When the wave recedes, the poison will remain. In the soil, the groundwater, and everything it touches.
Nothing will grow for seven generations, Ksatka adds. Your people will starve even if they survive the wave. Kashran, Volundr, and all the coastal lands will be dead for centuries.
“It can’t be…” Rhianelle’s face goes pale. “We are enemies. Why are you telling me this?”
Because my daughter thinks you worth saving, little queen. And perhaps... she is right, Ksatka says softly.
Rhianelle stares at the ancient dragon, barely daring to breathe.
The songs cannot be unsung, but the poison... that can be countered. Ksatka says quietly. Only a seadragon’s venom can neutralize and purify what my mate has begun.
“You’ll help us?” Rhianelle asks, hope flaring in her eyes.
I am old, queen of elves. I have lived long enough to see empires rise and fall.
I have watched your kind and mine war for thousands of years.
The dragon’s gaze shifts to Kiiska, who floats beside her mother.
I have no love for your kind. But neither do I wish to see younglings swept away or peoples starved for the ambitions of kings.
“What must we do?” Rainer asks, stepping into the shallow water.
Nothing. This is our burden to bear. Ksatka turns her massive head toward the other dragons.
We seven will dive to meet the wave and release our venom into the poisoned water.
It will neutralize what my mate has done.
The water that comes will destroy but it will not poison.
Your lands will heal. Your people can rebuild.
No! Kiiska cries out, swimming frantically toward her mother. Don’t leave me, Mother. I’m scared.
And then I understand. Dragon venom is not endless. It is drawn from deep glands near the heart. To purge an ocean of corruption would mean emptying themselves completely. They are not simply diving into the wave.
It is a sacrifice.
Ksatka and the others are going to die.
Be brave, my daughter, Ksatka says gently. You are stronger than you know.
The young male dragon’s frightened voice enters our minds as he stares at a pair of seadragons behind Ksatka. Mother, Father, you can’t—
Kae’ko, the emerald male dragon says gently. We must.
“How long?” Rainer asks, looking the seadragon straight in the eyes. “How long until the wave arrives?”
Soon, Ksatka answers. The deep singers work fast when they work together.
“Please, don’t do this,” Rhianelle says, her voice breaking. “We’ll find another solution—“
There is no other way. Ksatka’s voice is firm. I can feel the surge approaching.
I pull Rhianelle close, feeling her tremble against me.
Kiiska’s voice breaks into sobs of wordless grief. She tries to swim toward her mother but the young male clamps his teeth gently but firmly around her neck, holding her back.
Let me go! Kiiska struggles. Mother, please! Don’t leave me!
The young dragon thrashes, words tumbling over each other in a language I don’t understand.
Ksatka silences her with a gentle touch of her massive snout to Kiiska’s head.
You will live, my daughter. You will remember that hatred is not the way.
The crowd has gone silent. Everyone watching this ancient creature choose to die for people who have been her enemies for millennia.
Kae’ko, Ksatka addresses the young male dragon. Care for my daughter. Do not let her follow us.