Chapter 21
Kael
From Fifth Shore to the Lord of Water’s Ceremonial Ship
The words SoulTakers have crossed the border slam into me like a blow to the chest.
The night air, moments ago filled with firelight and laughter, turns heavy with dread.
Phoebe is still clutching my arm, her eyes wide, her lips parted as if she’ll demand answers I cannot give her now.
My instinct screams to hold her close, to never let her out of my sight—but duty snaps its jaws tighter.
I turn to her, cupping her face in both hands.
“Telya, listen to me. Go to your cabin. Stay inside until you reach Castletide, then Amber or I will come for you.”
Her brows knit, stubbornness flashing in her blue eyes. “Kael, wait—”
“No.”
My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but the scent of danger already taints the air, acrid and wrong.
“Please. I need you safe. For me.”
She swallows hard, her lips trembling, but she nods.
That nod costs her something—I can feel it.
I press a fierce kiss to her forehead before I force myself to let go.
“Amber!” I call, and the maid appears as if summoned by the sea itself, pale but resolute. “Take her. Guard her with your life.”
Then, I wave my hand across the air, reaching inside the pocket of magic I reveal, and I draw my trident from within.
The weapon hums the moment it touches my palm, alive with stormlight, eager to be wielded.
All around us, the festival is dissolving into chaos—elders herding children, warriors grabbing weapons from racks, the drums replaced by the blare of warning horns.
“Send word to the others,” I call to Aloysious.
My steward is a good man. Loyal. Brave. He bows, and I know it will be done.
I glance once more at Phoebe. She’s half-turned, reluctant to leave, her gaze locked on me as though afraid she’ll never see me again.
My chest clenches, and for a heartbeat I want nothing more than to drag her behind me, consequences be damned.
But she is safer away from what’s coming. She must be.
“I will come back to you,” I promise, low and certain, before the current takes me and I surge toward the shoreline.
The sea is already restless, waves pounding harder against the rocks.
I use my powers to see past the shore and village to the borders—and I want rage with all the powers of the tide.
Beyond the horizon, I can see them, shadows writhing—too many, moving too fast.
SoulTakers.
Their hunger slithers through the wards like oil through water, seeking, pressing, clawing.
I plant my trident into the sand, lightning crackling down its prongs, and lift my voice above the storm.
“To arms! The Tide rises!”
And as my warriors rally, the tide of battle rushes to meet us.
The moment Phoebe is secure aboard my ship, I press my palm to the hull and send the command.
The sea answers instantly.
Sharks slice through the waves, their fins glinting like knives.
Whales breach and sing, a wall of sound that ripples through the water. Sleek otters dart in packs, teeth bared, while sea tigers prowl beneath the surface, their striped hides luminous in the moonlight.
All of them, every creature of the tide, bends to my will.
Protect her.
I pour every ounce of myself into the command, binding it to them.
The vessel will not falter.
No shadow will touch her.
I should have said it—I should have told her I love you.
The words rose like a tide, but I held them back.
Because when I give them to her, it will not be in parting.
It will not be a goodbye.
Even so, I see the questions in her eyes as Amber ushers her below deck. They haunt me as I turn away.
I walk into the surf, calling the current.
My trident hums in my grip, hungry for battle.
My usual steed, the silverwing whale, answers my summons with a distant, thunderous song.
But as I step deeper, the water curling over my thighs, something changes.
Magic grips me, coils tighter than it ever has before.
Not summoned, not forced—bestowed.
I stagger, gasping, as power rips through me.
My skin ripples into scales that gleam dark as storm-slick steel.
My legs twist, lengthen, and then split into four massive tentacles, each lined with suckers strong enough to crush coral into sand.
My waist and chest remain man-shaped, broad and muscled, but larger now—vast, towering.
My hair streams behind me like a banner of kelp.
My eyes burn with sea-fire.
I stare down at my transformed body, awe and terror knotting together.
Not merman.
Not even Demon.
Lord Titan.
Just as my father once boasted—that we were descended from the ancient monsters of the deep.
And I know why.
Phoebe.
Her love.
Our zareth bond.
This is no accident.
She has awakened what lay dormant in my blood.
No trickery. No falsehood or bribing.
Our bond is real.
My love for her is eternal.
But I cannot think of that now. All my thoughts are on her.
Nothing—nothing—will get past me to reach her.
With a roar that shakes the waves, I hurl myself into the deep.
The ocean bends beneath me, carrying me toward the breach where the SoulTakers wait. But past it I can feel all the waterways, every river, sea, and lake within Nightfall, and they are all supplying me with information and beckoning me to use them, to command.
I will. And I do.
Because this time, the SoulTakers won’t simply face the Lord of Water.
They will face the Titan of the Sea.