Chapter 23
Dreven
As Voren joins us, thankfully looking less ravaged than he was earlier, I feel the weight of her eyeroll against my back.
It is a tangible thing, heavy with mortal insolence.
At least she is following instructions. That is an improvement on yesterday’s performance, where she tried to die out of sheer stubbornness.
“We are not walking,” I state, not breaking stride.
I reach out, summoning the shadows stretching from the hedgerows.
They obey instantly, swirling around us, eager to serve.
Dastian steps into the darkness with a grin, accustomed to the void, but Nyssa stiffens as the cold wraps around her.
She doesn’t fight it, though, even after her reaction to them yesterday. She is learning.
We emerge at the docks a heartbeat later. The sea is churning, violent and grey, lashing against the concrete like a caged animal.
Nyssa turns away from it, her hand over her mouth for a second while she adjusts. It gets easier, I believe, so a few more times and she will have it under control. After a couple of moments, Nyssa steps forward, her blade ready. She looks small against the backdrop of the raging sea.
“Well,” she says, cracking her neck. “If it wants round two, I hope it brought friends. I’m feeling destructive.”
I watch her, a mixture of irritation and grudging admiration tightening my chest. She is a disaster waiting to happen, but she is undoubtedly magnificent in her ruin.
“Where is it?” she adds, looking around.
“Under the surface.” I gesture to a darker patch under the swirling waves.
She nods grimly. “Well, I’m not going in there, so are we going to wait for it to crawl up the shore?”
“No, we are going to call it out,” I say. “This time, it needs a more effective handling than a show of whose power is greater.”
“So, we kill it,” she says.
“Probably not,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because it is not a creature of flesh and bone,” I explain, my patience wearing thin. The wind whips my coat around my legs. “It is an elemental force. You cannot kill the tide, slayer; you can only break its form long enough to make it regret surfacing.”
She scowls, gripping her hilt tighter. “That sounds like semantics. If I chop it into enough pieces, it usually stops moving.”
“And if you try to chop water, you will only drown,” I counter.
“He has a point,” Voren adds. “It’s like trying to fight fog. Tedious and damp.”
“More damp,” she mutters.
Dastian steps up to the edge of the dock, balancing on the balls of his feet like a child daring the waves to catch him.
“Less talking, more provoking. Come and get us!” He shouts at the churning water, sending a bolt of chaotic, crackling red energy straight into the dark patch beneath the surface.
The ocean responds instantly. The water erupts into a towering pillar of sludge, foam, and seaweed, which coalesces into a vague, humanoid shape. It possesses no eyes, only a gaping maw of swirling water that screams with the sound of a thousand drowning sailors.
Nyssa takes a step back, her bravado faltering for a split second before she steels herself. I move closer to her, letting my shadows curl protectively around her. She scowls, but I challenge her with a stare that makes her back down. I will protect her, even as I throw her to the waves.
Nyssa moves faster than I anticipate. She sprints across the slick concrete, launching herself into the air with that recklessness I am caught between despising and craving. Her blade flashes as she drives it into the thickest part of the creature’s mass.
It shrieks, the sound shattering the windows in the nearby warehouse. Water explodes outward, drenching her and Dastian in a flood of icy water.
“Did I get it?” she pants, wiping water from her eyes.
“You annoyed it,” I say, as the water churns violently, reforming bigger than before. “It’s not ready to retreat yet.”
“Great,” she mutters and starts hacking away at the Tidewraith like she expects it to fall into bits and pieces around her.
I shake my head. There is no point, just no fucking point in talking to her.
The Tidewraith looms over her, a massive fist of compressed water and sludge raising high, blotting out the grey sky. She braces herself, preparing to block a blow that will undoubtedly shatter every bone in her mortal body, regardless of whatever upgrade she has been given.
I flick my wrist. The shadows beneath the monster surge upward, solidifying into jagged spikes that pierce the watery limb just as it swings down. The creature roars, the sound wet and gurgling, as its arm dissolves into harmless rain before it can connect with Nyssa’s skull.
The wind whips my coat, but the shadows keep me anchored.
The Tidewraith hesitates when it senses me coming.
It was focused on Nyssa, the weak link. Now, it’s thinking twice.
But the fact of the matter is, I can’t kill this thing.
None of us can. We can only show a collective force to make it think twice about returning.
The shadows on the dock rear up, consuming the available light until they form a titan of darkness that mimics the Tidewraith’s size but possesses infinitely more malice. It’s a bluff, mostly, a projection of dominance, but elementals are instinctual creatures. They know when they are outmatched.
The Tidewraith recoils as we come together on the dock, magic and blades flashing. With a final, gurgling roar of frustration, it loses its nerve. The towering shape collapses, dissolving back into the churning grey waves with a splash that soaks us a second time.
“See?” I murmur, the shadows retreating into my coat. “Stronger together.”
Her gaze meets mine, and for the first time since I laid eyes on her, she falls in line with a swift nod. “Stronger together.”
“You’ve stopped fighting us,” I point out.
“Look,” she says, blowing out a breath. “I can’t fight you three and all the beasties that are attacking my village.
None of you has given me a reason to kill you.
Yet. Despite being gods from a realm that my ancestors deemed a threat enough to lock you all in centuries ago.
That can change in a heartbeat, so don’t test me.
” She moves closer to me, raising her weapon to press the tip under my chin.
My cock goes hard at the threat.
“But if you give me one reason, half a fucking reason, even, I will gut you like a fish on Friday. Clear?”
I glower down at her and lift my hand to move the tip of the curved blade away from my throat. “Clear.”
“I was made to kill you,” she whispers, almost to herself.
She lowers the blade, but the fire in her eyes doesn’t dim. It smoulders, promising violence if I step out of line. I can respect that. I can crave it.
“Good,” she says, sheathing the weapon with a sharp click that sounds remarkably final. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do that involves actual research and not just posturing at sea monsters.”
“We can’t leave you alone, Nyssa,” I remind her, hands clasped behind my back.
She inhales deeply through her nose before releasing it out of her mouth, clearly reining in her temper. “Then figure out a way to bring the Order’s library to your house of doom and gloom, or you share what you know about this overarching thing threatening the realms.”
Dastian and Voren both stare at me, shaking their heads.
I extend a hand towards Nyssa, palm up. A peace offering, or a trap. It depends on how she looks at it. “Marrow House. We will tell you what we know. But in exchange, you stay until you are fully stabilised.”
“Can you sort out some decent plumbing at least? Perhaps a kitchen with food?”
“Yes,” I say.
She nods and reaches for my hand but pulls up short when a woman shouts her name.
“Nyssa!”
“Rynna,” she murmurs and drops her hand, turning to a vibrant red-haired woman, younger than Nyssa. “What are you doing here?”
“The Order couldn’t find you, and Taye had a vision about some creepy water thing down here. They called me.” She looks around. She can’t see us, but she knows something isn’t right.
Nyssa catches my eye with a frown, and I shake my head. She grimaces and then lies. “It’s fine. I took care of it. Some weird water monster. It’s gone.”
Rynna nods slowly, her shrewd eyes staring at the space where I stand. She is perceptive, a slayer in training, preparing to take over when Nyssa inevitably dies. Her younger sister. “You might want to go and report in. They are freaking out.”
“I’ll go now,” she says, and I hiss at her.
She ignores me and strides off with Rynna on her heels.
“We have to let her go, or the Order will come looking for her and find us,” Voren says as I take a step forward. “We can’t let that happen. If she blows up and incinerates the village, it’s just one of those things.”
He’s right. But it isn’t the fact that she might level the village with her power that needles me to follow her.
I don’t trust the Order. In fact, they are our enemy, and as much as Nyssa is a part of that Order, she is the only thing that can save us.
Her, I trust to do the right thing. The Order, on the other hand, is a whole separate problem that needs dealing with.