Epilogue
Gulls screamed overhead as the body washed up onto the black sand beach.
Lashed haphazardly to a broken barrel with a length of twine, sodden and still, none of the sea birds dared to get closer until they were convinced this was not a new threat to them.
One gull, bolder and bigger than the rest, with a smattering of bright cobalt feathers down its back, was the first curious enough to investigate.
With a brave hop, the beastie landed atop the barrel, its gnarled feet perched against the metal rim of the wood, peering at the prone figure.
A quick jab of its beak into sunburnt flesh, and a low moan emitted from the body.
Squawking in fear, the gull launched itself back into the sky, its sea-blue feathers glinting in the harsh sun’s rays.
The sounds of the fleeing birds and the soft lapping of waves was punctuated with a groan of pain that turned into a panicked rasp.
Coughing up sea water, her hands scrambling for purchase against the soft sand, Orla opened her eyes.
Her voice was gone, leaving only a raw roughness behind, as she retched up another belly full of salt water.
Orla’s mind bellowed at her, terror like she’d never known before sinking in, as she tried to stand.
The waterlogged barrel yanked her back down, its sharp edges leaving a smattering of splinters against her palms as she pitched forward.
Dazed, Orla felt her muscles go limp, exhaustion tugging at her very bones. She inhaled the fresh air of the beach, her lungs wheezing as another flash of nausea gripped her.
With jerky movements, her fingers trembling, Orla finally managed to untie the twine that wrapped around her torso and leg, freeing her from the barrel.
She fell to her hands and knees, gasping, until her stomach calmed.
As another gull shrieked, Orla raised her head enough to survey her surroundings, squinting against the bright sun.
Black sand greeted her, stretching miles into the distance, broken up only by bits of debris that littered the coastline. White capped waves tugged and pushed more broken boards and destroyed barrels toward the land. Odd, fluttering strips of cloth floated on the surface of the bright blue water.
Her mind was foggy, bleating at her in alarm, yet she couldn’t form a single, coherent thought. The sharp tang of salt filled her nose as she rolled onto her back, sitting up gingerly, fighting against the raging panic that caused her heart to hammer in her chest.
Where was she?
The last thing she remembered was getting onto a ship. Leaving Doortan.
Marlo had been there.
Dollin had been there, too.
Where were they now?
Shaking her head to clear her confusion, Orla pulled herself up, using the busted barrel for support.
She tried taking a step, biting down a hiss of pain as the hot sand sizzled against her bare feet.
Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Muddleheaded and swaying, she looked down at her torn pants and immediately collapsed to the ground as she eyed the huge, bleeding gash traveling from her hip down her thigh.
A loud creak brought Orla’s attention to the edge of the beach, and she let out a hoarse screech as half of a ship’s mast burst from the sea, sending a wave of cold water towards her that billowed softly over the burned soles of her feet, taking some of the sting away, before receding back.
Drawing her gaze up to the top of the mast, Orla let out a strangled gasp.
The ship’s flags were torn and, and…charred along the edges.
Her eyes widened as she beheld the bodies of two sailors tied to the heavy wood that had not survived, their limp corpses bloated from their time under the rough waves.
Bile rose in her gut at the sight of the dead and Orla heaved, half staggering, half crawling away from the water. It was instinct alone that guided her, wanting to be far from the drowned men, that pushed her to crest a hulking dune.
As she clawed up the sloping side, the sun beat down on her exposed skin, and disorienting swells of pain threatened to drag her into unconsciousness again. Orla’s vision tunneled as an agonizingly sharp heat began trickling through her blood, filling her veins and choking out her breath.
Dragons.
It was the last conscious thought Orla had before she passed out, her body rolling back down the dune to rest on the black sand beach below.