Kai
Chapter twenty-eight
Serpent's Wake
We’re two days out from Taika’s domain, maybe less if the wind holds.
My arm starts to throb again. I wrap it tight with fresh cloth, binding it just in time.
Whatever part of the siren is pushing through this time, I want to catch it clean.
Last time, two claws tore through my skin.
This time, I’m hoping for at least two more.
Mira and I both have debts to pay, one to the most powerful witch to ever live and the other to the most vile sea creature to ever live.
The black veins have slowed their spread, but the pain inside them is consistent.
Each piece that surfaces is a promise. One wish, if we make it to the fountain. With the way things are going, we’ll need every single one. My health is getting worse. I refuse to die. I won’t let Mira pay for my curse.
Powerful creatures are beginning to notice us, the kappas trailing our every move. I can feel them just at arm’s reach, lurking beneath the ship. The deals Mira and I have both made to two very powerful beings are not easily escapable. We’re running out of time. I’m running out of time.
It’s midday. The sun burns high above, the deck alive with motion, ropes hauled, sails trimmed, boots pounding on planks.
I see Mira perched high atop the mast, a queen on her throne, surveying her kingdom of endless blue. The salty wind teases her curls, and the sea breathes in rhythm below her.
The noise in my head hushes at the sight of her. She looks down, sensing my gaze.
Her posture shifts and she points toward the horizon with certainty. I turn. A dark storm is churning.
Clouds roll in like a thick unnatural fog, swallowing the sky in a single breath. The hush that follows is eerie.
I turn to signal Mira down, but she’s already moving, sliding down the ropes with graceful ease.
My mind flashes back to when she swung over from her ship to mine with such grace, such fluidity.
So much has changed since then. We’ve been on a journey one would write books about.
“Ready the ship!” I call out. “We’re heading into a storm! ”
The crew jumps into action. Sails are lowered, ropes tightened, cargo lashed down. Every man aboard moves like clockwork. A violent sea will show us no mercy, we have to be ready.
Then I hear her voice behind me. “Into the eye of the storm, aye, Captain Kai?”
I turn. There she is. Soaked in sea spray, wind threading through her hair, eyes gleaming like she belongs to the storm.
She smiles, her eyes lighting up, not like she is walking into a tempest, but like she’s the tempest. For a split second, I don’t fear the storm at all.
There’s a hint of mischief in her voice, the kind that always gets to me.
“It seems so,” I reply, smirking, but deep down, this storm feels wrong. I glance past her and catch a shadow slicing through the water between us and the storm.
“What is it?” Mira asks, turning just as it vanishes.
“I saw something,” I say, stepping toward the rail.
“There’s something in the water. This isn’t a natural storm, treasure.
” Her eyes snap to mine, wide. “We need to turn the ship around. Now.” I leave no room for argument.
“Turn the ship around!” I shout up to Jay as I sprint for the helm.
He stumbles aside, pipe in hand, as I grip the wheel and wrench it hard.
The crew scrambles, shouting orders, dropping sails, tying down anything not already secured. The ship groans beneath us, the wheel fighting me like it doesn’t want to turn. But I force it away from the storm. Away from whatever’s out there.
I’ve never run from a sea monster in my life, but I’ll never gamble Mira’s life for another tale in the dark, especially if I saw what I think I saw.
Whatever the fuck is out there, it’s guarding something. Maybe a breeding ground. Maybe a graveyard. Either way, it doesn’t want us near. We’ve been lucky so far, avoiding sea monsters, but there are plenty. And what I saw, could be one of the worst of them all. A tarlock.
A massive sea serpent with amethyst and charcoal-black scales, each edged like a blade.
They’re nearly impossible to kill. Their teeth alone stretch four feet long, gleaming like polished daggers.
These creatures are born in the deepest trenches, surfacing only to breed.
The dragons of the sea. Even the Kraken had been known to steer clear.
“What did you see?” Mira’s voice cuts through the storm. Steady, but laced with fear. “I feel cold,” she says after a beat. Her voice shakes. “If it’s what I think it is, we’re not going to make it.”
I feel the cold, too, seeping into my bones. It’s the look in Mira’s eyes that truly guts me. Her fire has been snuffed. Her light dimmed. As if whatever’s out there already took something from her.
“We’re going to be fine, treasure,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’ve changed course.”
She looks up at me, her eyes narrowing into that cool, steel gaze. “What. Did. You. See. Kai.”
I soften my voice, my face, anything to ease the edge in hers. “I think… I saw a tarlock. I could be wrong. But I’d rather not find out.” My hands are still on the helm, steering us clear of the storm, of the beast.
Her expression shifts like a tide turning, fear blooming like frostbite. “A tarlock?” she echoes, stepping back, eyes locked on the churning storm in the distance. “You think you saw a tarlock?”
“Mira,” I say gently, “it’s okay. We turned in time. We’re clear of it.” Even I don’t believe what I’m selling.
She shakes her head, slow and certain. “No. You don’t understand.
” Her voice is laced with dread. “They follow.” She tightens her jaw.
Her eyes scan the horizon. “I’m connected to everything that lives in this ocean.
Especially powerful creatures. Whatever that thing was”—she swallows hard—“felt me. It knows what I am.” Her voice dips to a whisper.
“We disturbed its peace, and now it will disturb ours.”
Mira bolts down the main deck. “Get away from the sides!” she yells. “Everyone, middle of the ship! Climb if you can! Now! If you stay down here, you’ll die!” Her panic is contagious, rolling through the crew like a wave. I push through the chaos.
“Jay, take the helm. Keep us heading east. The farther we get, the better.”
Jay nods and grips the wheel, his pipe forgotten.
“It was a tarlock, wasn’t it, Cap?” I meet his eyes and give a single nod.
“I saw it too,” he adds. His face goes pale.
He grips the helm tighter, knuckles turning white.
I’ve never seen Jay rattled before, not in storms, not in battle, but this has him shaken.
And that says everything. It is one of the deadliest creatures to ever come across in the sea. If not the deadliest.
I spot Mira and grab her arm, spinning her toward me. Her chest heaves. I can feel her heart hammering through her rain-soaked shirt. Her eyes shine with fear. “Calm down,” I tell her, keeping my voice steady. “Panicking the crew will only make things worse.”
Tears threaten her lower lashes. “They need to know,” she says, voice breaking. “They deserve a chance. I’d want to know. I’d want every chance to survive.” A tear slips down her cheek. Thunder cracks overhead, and then rain comes down harder.
“Climb,” I say, brushing the wet hair from her face. “Get up the mainsail. I’ll be right behind you, but I need to grab something.” She hesitates. “I promise, Mira. Go.”
I press a kiss to her forehead, and she runs for the ladder. As soon as I see her climbing, I turn and sprint toward the lower deck. There’s only one weapon that might actually give us a shot.
It’s complete chaos on deck, shouts, crashing waves, the creaks and groans of wood strained to its limit. I spin toward the starboard side, and there it is, rising from the depths like a nightmare come to life.
The sea serpent, massive, and furious, surges upward, water cascading off its coiled, scaled body. Waves batter the ship, and it’s not even close yet. Its eyes, gods, its eyes. A molten, blood-orange glare that pins us like prey.
It’s staring straight at us. Straight at me. The tarlock is larger than any beast I’ve ever seen. Its full body hasn’t even cleared the surface, and it’s already three ships long. Maybe bigger. Every word I’ve ever known for “monstrous” feels too small.
Somehow it knows I’m the captain. It knows I’m the one who trespassed. Its gaze locks on me with a rage that feels ancient, personal. My stomach turns. The taste of bile creeps up my throat. This is death, dressed in scales and fury, and it’s coming for everything I love.
If we survive this, it will be nothing short of a miracle.
I sprint below deck to retrieve the black spears. Forged from a metal rarer than gold, enchanted by witches, they’re strong enough to punch through even a tarlock’s scales. We’ve only used them once before, on a lesser beast. Now we have three left. Three shots. Three chances to survive.
I shove barrels aside, dragging them off the locked chest at the back of the gun deck. Inside, the arrows gleam. I sling two across my back and grip the third tightly. Every ship should have these. Most don’t.
“Man the cannons!” I bark to the crew as the ship lurches violently.
The tarlock struck its first blow. I hit the floor hard, pain blooming in my shoulder as cannons careen across the deck.
Wood cracks. Men shout. “Get the cannons back to position! Wait for my command!” The crew scrambles, boots thundering over wood as I sprint back up the stairs.
Mira. Where is she? The thought barrels through everything else in my head. I need eyes on her, need to know she’s safe. But a darker thought slips in as I run. Can she tame it?
She’s bound to the sea. The most powerful beings can feel her, and maybe this one does too. Maybe she could stop it, or maybe trying would get her killed. It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.
I reach the ladder, the mainsail thrashing above me.
Rain lashes against my face like needles, the wind roaring in my ears, trying to shove me back with every step.
The rigging is slick, my fingers numb. It’s the only place I can get a clear shot, either straight down the beast’s throat or at its underbelly, the only two places it can be killed. Or so the old man's tale claims.
The ship groans beneath us, wood shrieking as it twists, waves slamming against the hull like fists. The tarlock coils around us in a relentless circle, churning the sea into a whirlpool, dragging us off course like a toy in a tide pool.
Mira’s already there. Clinging to the ropes, soaked and shaking, her eyes locked on the storm-black sky. She turns just as I reach her level, her face pale, her body braced against the fury, like she’s been waiting.
“Are you hurt?” I shout, breath ragged. She turns, tears streaming down her face, the wind whipping strands of her hair across her cheeks.
“Not yet,” she says quietly. Her voice is final, like death already knows her name.
“No.” My grip tightens on the rope as the sail pitches wildly. “No, Mira. I need you to hold on. You hear me? Hold strong.”
Her eyes find mine. There’s a softness there that cracks something deep in my chest. “I love you,” she says, barely louder than the storm. “You know that, right?”
“I do,” I whisper. “Gods, I do. But what are you—” My voice catches. I already know. That smile, the one she gives when she’s decided something I can’t change. “Mira,” I choke out. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
She reaches for my hand, cold fingers trembling as she presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I have to, Kai. For you. For the crew. For the ship.” The wood groans beneath us, a sickening crack splitting the air. “It’s tearing us apart. I can tame it. I have to try.”
She leans in, forehead brushing mine. “I’m sorry,” she breathes. “We’ll all die if I don’t.”
My heart splits clean in two as I lunge for her, desperate, wild, a man undone. But she slips through my grasp like mist. She lets go. Not just of my hand, but of everything, safety, fear… me.
“I love you, Kai Eldoris,” she says, the storm in her hair, the fire still alive in her eyes. “To the end.” Then she’s gone.
She soars with arms open, body arched like a queen diving into her throne, a siren called home by the sea. She looks like both things she was born to be, a captain and a myth. Her curls fan behind her like smoke, her body cutting through the air with impossible grace.
There is no splash, only a silence that screams louder than thunder. And then, stillness. The ship stops rocking. The wind dies. The clouds pull back. The ocean waits. And so do I.
She’s going to try to tame the most ruthless beast.