Chapter 34
Lyssa
Len and Lucas are on the deck to meet us, but neither says anything as we heave the tank out of the hauler and onto the planks.
Alexios makes a half-assed attempt to help, but it’s unnecessary.
So is Epizon’s fully committed effort. I could move the tank on my own, the focus on something else allowing my power to flood my muscles. It feels good.
The farther into the brightly colored light of the sky she gets, the slower the creature’s circles through the liquid become. When the whole tank is exposed, I step back, and Epizon and Alexios follow my lead.
The creature stills in the center of the tank. She tilts her face toward the sky, and for the first time I can’t see the vivid green of her eyes because they’re closed.
“She was in the light when we first removed the planks,” Epizon says quietly, staring at her.
“True. How long was that for?”
“Half an hour?” Len shrugs.
I sit down on the deck. “Then let’s give her an hour and see if she seems…” I’m not sure how to end the sentence, as it’s impossible to tell if she’s happy, sad, hungry, or any other emotion.
“Satisfied?” offers Len.
“Sure.”
We all sit quietly, Alexios lying on his back and apparently falling asleep immediately.
The only movement visible on the deck of the motionless ship is the gently swirling clouds, pinks and purples rolling past us.
It isn’t long before I follow suit, putting my hands behind my head and closing my eyes.
Len’s sharp intake of breath wakes me in an instant, and I sit bolt upright.
“Look,” the satyr whispers, pointing to the tank.
The creature’s scales are starting to change color.
“Huh. Looks like you were right—” I start, but before I can finish, pain lances through my skull.
I throw my hands to my head, screwing my eyes shut against the pain. I’m dimly aware of shouts around me, then, abruptly, the pain is gone.
I open my eyes, and find I’m no longer on the Alastor.
I look around at an opulent room from my position kneeling on the floor. It’s a large, open space, with white stone columns everywhere I look, at regular intervals. I stand cautiously and turn on the spot. All I can see, stretching in every direction, are the columns. The room is endless.
“Hello?” I call. My voice echoes back at me but I hear nothing else. I take a tentative step forward. When nothing happens, I try another.
A figure steps out from behind the closest pillar, and I gasp.
It’s Hercules, holding a fireplace poker dripping with blood.
My breath catches. The poker…
Involuntarily, I look to the floor at his feet, already knowing what I’ll see.
A form shimmers at his feet, red hair flashing in and out of focus. Tears fill my eyes as I stare down at my mother’s body.
“You’re next,” Hercules says. He smiles at me, the grin maniacal.
“Murderer!” I scream as the Rage explodes through me, replacing every other conscious thought I have.
Unarmed and barely aware of my actions, I throw myself at him.
But I never make contact with his huge frame. Instead I keep falling, the pain seeping back into my head. I shut my eyes again, trying desperately to make sense of what’s going on.
“Captain!” I hear somebody shout, and then feel hands on my shoulders. I open my eyes and look up.
I’m back, kneeling on the deck of the Alastor, the gentle clouds swirling about on either side of me. I take a huge, gasping breath, my body shaking. The hand on my shoulder tightens. I turn, expecting to see Epizon, and to my surprise see concern etched across Alexios’s face.
“What happened? Are you all right?” he asks me, his voice deep, soft.
“I don’t know what happened,” I say dazedly. “Where’s Epizon?”
“He cried out too, but”—Alexios steps to the side so I can see the huge man sprawled on the deck—“we can’t wake him,” he finishes.
I leap to my feet, the quick movement causing a wave of dizziness to roll over me, which I ignore as I move to Epizon. I crouch beside him and put my hand on his hot face. His eyes are screwed shut and his breathing is shallow.
“Len!” I call.
“He’s gone to the infirmary to get something to help,” says Alexios.
“Lucas?” I spin around, looking for the boy. He holds his hand up, pale face pinched.
“I’m fine, captain. Only you and Epizon were affected.”
“Affected?” I focus on the tank creature.
She’s glowing blue, her shimmering scales dazzling if I look at them too long, and her bright green eyes still hidden behind closed lids.
“This should do it,” Len says, trotting across the deck from the back of the ship, carrying a small black pouch. I move quickly out of his way. He pulls a small vial out, removes the tiny cork, and waves it slowly under Epizon’s nose. I watch as his eyelids twitch, holding my breath.
Epizon takes a huge, heaving breath, and I let mine out in relief as his eyelids flutter open.
“Ep, are you all right?” I ask, leaning over him.
“Tenebrae,” he says, as dazed as I was.
“What?”
“Tenebrae. That’s her name,” he says, and eases himself onto his elbows as he starts to sit up.
“Whose name?”
Epizon points at the tank. The creature’s scales are dimming, her tail is swishing back and forth, and her brilliant eyes are fixed on Epizon’s.
“Hers. She’s called Tenebrae.”