Cormorant Run

by J. C. McKenzie

  His eyebrows shot up.

  She shrugged. “I may not have all the answers, but I don’t intend to hide anything from you.” She’d decided on the last leg of today’s travel that she wouldn’t lie or evade. If Ronin truly wanted to be with her, she needed him to know who she was.

  His smile was slow and lazy. “What aren’t you telling me about the Sea Beast?”

  She sucked in a breath. Straight to the point. “He talks to me.”

  His eyes widened. “Out loud? All I heard was a creepy moan.”

  “No,” She tapped her head. “In here.”

  “And do you…talk back?”

  She nodded.

  “Of course, you do.” He paused, scrunching his mouth as he probably mulled over his words. “How do you talk to him? In your head as well?”

  She nodded again. She’d never told anyone about her connection to the Sea Beast before. Not even Father.

  “What does he say?”

  “Not much. The speaking is actually new. Before, I just sensed him and his great hunger. Then it was a word. Then a few.”

  “What does he say?”

  She sighed and poked the fire with a stick. “He says I’m his.”

  “You’re his?”

  She nodded, wishing she wouldn’t regress into a bobbing head when faced with these questions. Sometimes, it was just easier to nod than voice the truth with words.

  “Well, he’s wrong.” Ronin leaned over. “Because you’re mine.”

  Her chest grew warm despite the cold wind. “I don’t think he means it romantically. I think he means I’m his to eat.”

  Ronin’s gaze sparkled as he silently laughed at her.

  She reached out and shoved his shoulder. “Shut up. Not like that.”

  Ronin chuckled and picked up another stick to poke the fire. “Is this connection the reason why you objected to King Aeneas’ amendment?”

  “Partly. The main reason is the one I gave you. It was a bad deal to take. Even with my connection, which I’m not willing to share with others, we’d fail at killing the Sea Beast.”

  Ronin nodded. “I’m glad you led with that reason. If you’d claimed you had a telepathic link to a murderous sea beast who wanted you on his dinner plate, I would’ve been more inclined to agree to the king’s new terms.”

  Cora laughed.

  “Now, come here. I have just enough energy to perform some dirty sex acts.”

  “You really know how to charm a lady.” She crossed her arms. “Didn’t you learn anything at court? Don’t they give you lessons on how to be noble?”

  “This is for generating heat and saving our lives.” He winked. “A noble cause.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “And I want to hold you. Feeling your body pressed to mine makes me feel like I’m finally home.”

  Well, how could she deny him with sweet words like that? She opened her arms and he gathered her up and proceeded to show her just how much energy he had left.

  42

  “I started making plans thinking we would get that far.”

  Daniel Handler

  The bone-numbing wind howled past Ronin’s face. Salt spray splattered his clothes as the sea raged below. The day had started with clear skies and no hint of bad weather on the horizon. He’d wrongly looked forward to a smooth second leg of their trip home to the Eyrie.

  Cora soared beside him, her face drawn, brows furrowed, and her hands balled into fists. He didn’t need her to say anything to know they were in trouble.

  The swells grew larger. White caps lined the crests and created veins along the ridges. Sea spray licked off the surface and spread through the air.

  After spotting a thunderbird flock that according to Cora shouldn’t have been hunting in this area, they’d stuck closer to sea level, aiming to hide in the peaks and valleys of the large ocean swells.

  None of the feral birds had dropped out of the gray sky to attack them so the camouflage must’ve worked.

  Cora turned to him and shouted. The wind and waves drowned her out. She flung her hands around, waving them to the side.

  He flapped his wings to draw closer. They needed to work on their hand signals. They spoke two completely different languages.

  She squinted at him, mouth pursed and then something changed.

  Her whole body tensed. Her eyes widened. Without warning, she abruptly changed direction and dove toward him. She tucked her wings in and barrelled into him, knocking him off course.

  At the same time, a large monster shot from the ocean below, gaping maw open.

  Ronin spun around in the stormy wind, righted himself and turned in time to see the monster’s mouth close around Cora.

  No!

  He drew his sword and screamed.

  A large eye on the side of the Sea Beast’s gigantic head rotated around and stared at him.

  Ronin pointed his sword at the bug-like protruding eye and dove.

  Too late. The Sea Beast sank into the water, the waves crashing around his scaly body, covering his retreat.

  Ronin shot past the area where the beast had hovered, driving his sword through the empty air. Too late.

  The water splashed and sprayed, a frothy marker of where the sciper had disappeared with Cora.

  The wind jostled him back and forth. The rain beat at him. Emptiness expanded in his soul as if his heart formed a fist and punched him from the inside repeatedly until nothing else remained except a hollow dull ache.

  Ronin bellowed at the ocean, but no one answered.

  He hovered there, for a few minutes, hours, days—he didn’t know. He hung suspended over the ocean, hounded with disbelief, and stared at the water as if Cora would somehow resurface. As if the Sea Beast would regurgitate her back into being. If only he could rewind time, take back this last moment and correct it. He should be in the empty belly of the beast. Cora should be the one to make it home.

  If only he could rewind time.

  If only she’d displaced him farther and the sea beast missed.

  If only.

  If only.

  If only.

  Ronin hung his head and turned toward the Eyrie. He needed to go home, if at the very least to let Cora’s father know what a champion his daughter was. To let the kingdom know his hero’s name.

  The next few hours were a blur. He coasted, jostled this way and that, until he crashed out of the angry sky onto the rocky shore of the Eyrie. Ronin turned to face the ocean and sank to his knees.

  43

  “Let the waves carry you where the light cannot.”

  Mohit Kaushik

  The mouth closed around Cora. The long fangs snapped shut and sealed her in a toothy cage, casting her in darkness with a pocket of air.

  Cora held onto something—a slimy molar—while caught between a wet, spongy tongue and the moist gums of the Sea Beast.

  She gripped the slick tooth with one hand and reached for her dagger. The beast turned. Her whole body flung to the side. She screeched, abandoned her dagger, and held on for her life.

  What in the bird-loving hell was she thinking? Even if she managed to stab the beast in the cheek from the inside, all that accomplished was pissing him off. He only had to open his mouth to drown her or swat her with his tongue to incapacitate her. Survival meant keeping a calm head and trying to figure a way out of this without angering the beast.

  “You ate me!” she screeched out loud and in her head.

  I’m holding you in my mouth, the deep voice rattled inside her head.

  “I fail to see the difference!”

  Do you really? He responded. If I actually ate you, you would be dead, skin corroded by the acid of my stomach. You are very much alive.

  Not sure she appreciated this new coherent speech. Each instance she’d communicated with him, his words sounded more and more like normal conversation. Either he’d improved his ability to speak in her mind or she was losing her grip on reality.

  She was in the mouth of th
e largest known sciper and mulling over his speech patterns. Clearly, she was losing her mind.

  “For how long? Until you get a little peckish and feel like a snack?”

  Everything shook.

  Her grip slipped and she scrambled to regain her hold on the boulder sized tooth. Saliva dripped from her drenched wings. Her feet slid in the beast’s spit.

  I don’t plan to eat you, birdy. You’re mine.

  She shuddered. Did he plan to wear her like a trinket?

  Pressure built in her head and she ground her teeth together. “Arghhhh.”

  Why do you scream?

  “My head hurts. Did you dive?” The pain was similar to when she dove too deep in the ocean or descended from a high altitude too fast.

  Yes. Almost there.

  “Can hardly wait.” She bit her tongue and kept the rest of her snarky responses to herself. Best not to irritate the beast. He held her life in his hands.

  Mouth.

  Whatever.

  The pain from the pressure eased.

  Her feet hit the beast’s tongue—he must’ve leveled out.

  And then he changed direction again.

  Cora dangled from his tooth and stared down at the back of his mouth. At least that’s what she assumed was down there. With no light, it was impossible to see.

  Again, without warning, the beast changed direction and abruptly stopped, flinging Cora forward. Her grip on the tooth slipped and she flew through the air. She hit the beast’s tongue hard, smacking the lumpy taste buds with a splat. Her stomach rolled.

  The mouth opened. Air hit her face. She pulled up from the rough surface and peered out of the beast’s large mouth, past the saliva-dripping fangs longer than her own body and into what looked like a dimly lit cavern.

  Make it quick, birdy. I’m not keeping my mouth open all day.

  She stumbled out of his mouth, tripping on the last row of teeth and flailing onto a smooth slab of rock. She threw her hands up and her wings out to break her fall. Her knees slammed into the wet rock, then her hands. Her momentum stopped with the top of her nose an inch from impact.

  She studied the cavern. Rock walls rose up around her, high and narrow, making the cavern look like it rested at the bottom of a naturally formed well, too narrow for her to fly up. Light snuck in from various cracks along the sides and from higher up, but the light-emitting crevices within climbing distance were too small for her to squeeze through. Rain trickled down the wall of obsidian rock and sprinkled from above.

  The ocean roared against the walls lower down. She must be standing below sea level, with the tower extending beyond the surface.

  There was only one structure within the entire Carrion Channel that jutted up like this.

  Outpost Island.

  The Sea Beast had brought her to a secret cave inside the mountain on which the outpost sat. Ronin and she had slept in the ruins at the top of this tunnel last night. Had the Sea Beast waited below? Had he listened to their conversation? Their love making?

  Did it even matter? No one knew the rock of Outpost Island was hollow.

  Oh god.

  No one would ever find her.

  Cora’s stomach sunk.

  The floor of the cavern was a giant slab of smooth rock that sloped into the ocean lapping at her feet. There must be an access point to this place beneath the surface of the water. How low though? Could she hold her breath long enough to get down and back up the other side?

  And not die from hypothermia?

  Given the pressure in her ears earlier, escape using the ocean route seemed unlikely.

  A low keening echoed in the room. She turned to where the Sea Beast had beached himself.

  She froze.

  The Sea Beast shrunk in on himself—condensing. Sea water gushed out of the leathery hide as the body of the Sea Beast reformed into a man.

  A giant man.

  At least seven feet of hard packed muscle, a naked man stood where the Sea Beast lay moments ago. Gray streaked his dark hair and his skin had a grayish-blue tinge. No one would look at this man and think “human.” He radiated power. His sea-green eyes shone with an otherness that sent chills racing along her spine.

  Cora unsheathed her long dagger and held it in front of her. The hammer grip would make Ronin proud.

  The man glanced at her weapon. The corner of his mouth turned down. “Do you intend to poke me with that?”

  “I’ll poke you with whatever I want.” Wait. That didn’t come out right. She winced.

  He raised a dark brow. “You can try. You’ll find my skin difficult to penetrate with your puny weapon.” He patted his flat abs. “All that condensed tissue brings a whole new meaning to thick skinned.”

  She scowled but didn’t sheath her dagger. If he attacked her, she’d go for the eyes. She glanced down his body. Or the dangly bits.

  A thought stabbed her mind. “You called me yours. Why? What do you intend to do to me?”

  Ice flowed through her veins. No matter how good-looking the monster was, no matter how well-endowed, she’d never be willing. Her heart and body belonged to Ronin.

  The man’s face paled and he stilled. “Not that!”

  Some of the tension released from her shoulders. “Then what? And does it involve you putting clothes on?”

  He sighed and walked over to a large boulder she hadn’t noticed before—there was a lot going on—and picked up faded pants. They had rips along the legs and the cuffs were frayed. They also ended mid-calf when he pulled them on. The shirt he threw on after the pants was in no better shape.

  Like she could judge. She now wore a hodgepodge of flying leathers and old armour hastily sewn together by herself and a human.

  “I don’t take this form often,” he said. His deep voice remained the same as the one in her head, a little quieter, but it held the same gravelly quality.

  “Did your mother ever tell you the story of a man she rescued over twenty-five years ago?”

  Cora tightened her grip on the dagger handle. Why was he talking about her mother? Why did he claim Cora as his?

  She stiffened. “You’re not my father.”

  He couldn’t be. Her mother was faithful, loving and Cora was too much like her father to not be his.

  He smiled weakly, flashing rows of jagged teeth, and sat on the edge of the boulder. “I’m not your biological father. Your mom was already pregnant with you when she saved me. She could’ve killed me, or turned me in, but instead, she showed mercy and compassion.”

  That sounded about right.

  “In return, I blessed her unborn child, you, with my essence.”

  Cora froze.

  “So while you are your mother and father’s child, you are also mine.”

  What the fuck.

  “Did you ever wonder why the ocean heals you? Why it beckons to you? Why you safely make the trip across the channel and no other monsters bother you?”

  She scowled in unison with the man.

  “Except those stupid thunderbirds, of course,” he said. “How they’re not extinct yet is beyond me.”

  “You’ve been protecting me?” He’d eaten one flock of thunderbirds for her, had he consumed others?

  He nodded.

  “All this time?”

  “The Cetus essence running through your veins also acts as a natural deterrent. Scipers like myself recognize the scent.”

  The memory of the unicorn’s face and the recognition in its gaze flared up. All the signs had been there, but how could she have possibly guessed?

  “But sapavians…”

  “Are too much like humans for their own good. They cannot detect sciper essence unless it practically smacks them in the face. Some might feel different around you, like you command fear or respect, but they probably wouldn’t be able to say why.” He shrugged.

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  He looked away and wrung his hands together. “It’s hard to focus on coherent thoughts when I’m in b
east form.”

  “You formed words just fine.”

  “I’ve gotten better with practice, but sometimes all I can get out is ‘mine.’” He paused. “But I thought you already knew.”

  “Why would you think that?” Was Mom supposed to have told her?

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve brought you here.”

  Another memory of pain, blood and the ocean tumbled through her mind. “After the attack.”

  He nodded, expression drawn. “I couldn’t save your mother, but I could save you.”

  The rest of the tension in her shoulders eased away as Cora’s flittering memories of that awful day returned. She’d fallen into the ocean. While the water healed her head wound, leaving her with the scar she wore today, she’d been knocked unconscious. Or close enough not to recall anything between hitting the cliff and a fuzzy awareness at the bottom of the ocean floor, filled with sand, confusion, and painful lungs.

  “I would’ve drowned,” she said.

  “I couldn’t let you heal on Iom near the humans who killed your mother. I couldn’t risk your safety, so I brought you here, told you of your heritage and then returned you to the shores of the Eyrie. Your concussion was bad, though, and the events at the keep traumatizing. I didn’t realize you’d supressed your memories until recently.”

  A pain stabbed at her chest. She owed this sciper so much, and she’d had all these awful thoughts about him. And he deserved so much better than what she’d given. “So all this time you thought I was rejecting you?”

  He shrugged. “Or processing.”

  She rocked back on her heels.

  “You took the news the first time fairly hard. I was willing to wait. I’m the last of my kind. There are no more cetodes roaming the oceans. The dreaded Sea Beast will die with me. But my essence will live on.”

  “How…” She swallowed and looked away. Maybe this wasn’t something she should ask. “How did you bless me your essence?”

  He smiled sadly. “I placed my hand on your mother’s swollen belly and willed it to be so.”

  “Willed it?”

  “I wasn’t sure it would work, but I felt the energy radiating from my hand the moment it happened.” He shrugged. “And when you were born, I felt the waves of my own energy roll out across the ocean like another nuclear cascade.”