"Sadira!" Bannon snapped. He lunged for me, but before he could I reached a hand toward Mara, closing it into a tight fist.
I hadn't exactly meant to do it. I didn't even know why, or what I expected it to do. To my horror, though, a flickering mass of shadow coalesced between Mara and I, taking a shape I recognized. Though it seemed amassed of pure darkness, I could peer through it to Mara's face, a face gone pale with fear.
I could see its wide, white, moony eyes.
The vision thrust its own fist into Mara's chest. It passed right into her, disappearing up to the forearm. She seized and choked, eyes bulging wide, and I realized the thing had closed its fingers around the very part of her I'd just threatened.
Her heart.
Bannon and I stood frozen as Mara made a hitched, pitiful mewling sound. She grasped for the apparition's dark arm, fingers moving right through it, like mist. Where she touched it, the blackness swirled away, shimmering into a faint, silver glow instead. The gleaming traveled up the creature's arm, and patterns emerged: red tattoos. Ritual scars.
The light ate away at the dim gloom, turning the nightmare into a ghostly, flickering woman. Short, blonde hair. Lemniscate knot.
My knees wobbled and my stomach turned to ice.
It's me.
"Stop!" I shouted.
The silvery apparition withdrew its hand. Mara crumpled to the ground, clutching her chest, and lay still.
Then—without actually moving—the figure was facing me, and I looked into my own face, bright and dusted with misty starlight, shining brilliant white eyes at me like the heart of the heaven star.
And in those eyes... I saw.
It's me. It's been me. All this time…
"But it can't be," I groaned, hiding my face as the apparition loomed over me. "I have no magic. I have never had any magic!"
I sensed it reaching out for me. Its desire washed over me.
I whirled and lunged for the door. Bannon reached out for me, but I shoved him away, racing into the passageway. Reversing my earlier course, I charged for the ladderway, grasping the rungs and fleeing for the open air.
The first savage bump hit the ship as I climbed. I gave a short cry and clung closer to the ladder, until the sway evened out. Another lurch sent us the other way almost immediately, and above, I heard voices swearing and calling for the archers and catapult crew.
It's back. The sea snake. Now, of all times?
It was all connected, though. The doors in Alaric's castle, the black dogs, the rigging ropes around my neck, the fire. The snake. It was all connected, and the common thread was me.
Beast inside. Poisonous. Snake. The daughter of serpent worshipers.
I scrambled onto the weather deck. A crash sounded from off the port side of the Drekakona, and a droning, fluting cry filled the air. Blue-green coils rose on my right, higher than the ship's own enormous flank. Water sprayed over us, gigantic waves crashing over the deck.
The sailors screamed back and forth. Cries of "Sea serpent!" and "Leviathan!" filled my ears. The deck seemed to rise, cresting another huge wave, and crashed down into the water again, dark green swells and roiling masses of foam washing people off their feet. I stumbled hard to one side, slipping and sliding, finally catching myself against the rail.
"Stop!" I screamed again, but my voice flew into the wind, unheard. The serpent's rumbling, echoing cry rolled over us, and the Drekakona tipped perilously starboard.
It's come because of me. It's come... because I called it here.
I had one thought. Violent and horrible... and deadly.
I must make it go away.
"Sadira!"
Bannon had appeared at the top of the ladderway behind me. I faced him, taking a long, silent moment to study his face. His beautiful, brick-red mane. His kingly features.
"I love you, Master."
Without waiting for him to come for me, I climbed up, onto the railing—
—and flung myself into the sea.
Chapter Thirty
I sank into cold water, curling tight into a ball. The sea serpents' enormous coils wound and undulated around me, glimmering in the rays of starlight dancing beneath the surface. Fins of glorious teal and blue and violet flowed like pennants off its sides, and gleaming, jagged shards, like spearheads, marched down its spine.
It's beautiful.
The musical cry came to me through the churning water. The creature's attention pivoted on me. Just as I had gambled it would. It zipped through the water toward me, and without any other choice, I grabbed onto one of its fins and let it draw me down.
As long as you leave them alone. Let the Drekakona go. You can have me.
The descendant of serpent worshipers, dragged under the waves by the greatest serpent of all. Not Akolet—this gleaming blue monster, this killer beauty dwarfed the seven-headed serpent in every way. Though I knew I would die clinging to its scales, I couldn't relinquish my grip.
It's the most beautiful creature I've ever beheld.
Deep into the darkness we plunged. The water, like ice, numbed me head to toe. My lungs burned, holding on to my last breath.
Another sweet, melodious note seemed to emanate from deep within the serpent, resonating along its flanks. I closed my eyes. Bubbles drifted from my mouth and air left my lungs. I surrendered to the cold, to the darkness, embracing the voice of the monster, welcoming it into my soul.
Our descent slowed. The sleek dive softened into a gentle, floating ease. Movement in the water stirred me to open my eyes again, and I beheld its colorful fins drawing close around me.
The serpent drew itself into a protective coil. I couldn't orient myself within its grasp, until it found me with its shining, white eyes.
As its gaze fell upon me, a blessed relief seized my chest. Like a lungful of fresh air, it eased the pain and desperation clawing inside me.
How? Have I frozen? Have I died after all? What other reason could there be, that my lungs are no longer screaming for air?
Shining white eyes. Just like the eyes of the shadowy apparition. Like my own ghostly face, staring back at me.
But so much bigger.
We drifted in the flow of subtle currents, looking into one another. A calm, rhythmic movement passed between us, something as natural and comfortable as breathing, though breath was a thing of before. Of above.
In the welling, ebbing silence, my mind settled into an easy peace.
It has been me. This whole time. Everything stemmed from me.
Doors slamming... when I closed them, slamming them on a life I left behind. Ropes twisting around my limbs and neck... when I had been thinking of Alaric's hard, heartless ropes around my throat.
The shape in the shadows only appeared after Ashe warned me about angry spirits. The fire ignited below decks when I was angry at Bannon, and the woman in the marketplace, when I was thinking of strangers and mobs coming after me. The bodies in the water... when I feared death had come for all of us at last.
Every strange occurrence, the product of my conflicted heart and mind. Filled with fear as I left my old world and old ghosts behind; filled with awe and curiosity for what lay ahead. My lost life. The faraway beach and the woman crying my name.
Seren! My sweet Seren!
Somehow, I'd called out—just like Torv said, like a spirit-caller, the elathae—and something new had answered.
But I have never had magic.
As though in answer, the sea serpent blinked its beautiful eyes. Could it sense my thoughts? Could it understand me?
I didn't think so. It, too, had come when I called out. Like Schala had come. Like the black dogs. Somehow, when anger or fear took over, my soul called out to it and it had come, thumping and bumping the ship to find me. Growing more and more agitated as I grew more distraught.
How do I do this? How long have I been able to do this?
Was this the real power Alaric stole from me? How? How could he have?
Over a lifetime, and across m
y whole body. The sinister truth of his bondage. My tattoos, my chains, my collar, each one leashing me closer and closer to him, and his great reptilian monster.
So they both could feed off my soul.
How funny. I brought up a hand to my face, covering a silent chuckle that wasn't really there. My serpent could eat the seven-headed golem of Alaric's final curse easily. Perhaps whatever unknown cabal of serpent worshipers I really belong to, they know more about Akolet than Lord Khan ever did.
No. This was not a sea serpent.
I reached out to lay a hand upon its scaly, serrated muzzle. I looked deeper into its eyes, willing it to somehow tell me more.
You are no mere serpent. You are the devourer of serpents. You... are a dragon.
I bent my head to it, resting my brow against the smooth, glimmering scales of its head. It fluted softly at me, a song resonating through my mind and my heart.
You are beautiful. Beautiful girl. Beautiful beast.
Such wild power. Such dangerous strength and deadly loveliness. Nature bowed before this dragon and her voice.
And she... is me. We are the same. We are—
Somewhere far away, above and beyond us, the deep sound of thrashing water rippled through our floating world. Something from outside us. Something separate, and different... but not dangerous. I couldn't bring myself to break away from the creature's gaze, even as arms encircled my waist from behind and strong legs kicked. Someone tried to pull me back, pull me up toward the surface once more.
No. Not yet.
I raised a hand. I found Bannon's familiar, bearded cheek, and willed him to understand. I wanted him to see the dragon with me, look into her eyes. I needed him to know.
He relaxed, his grip around me softening. The great sea dragon gazed at us, and we gazed back. The world, the water, the waving reflections of light and deep shadows of the depths seemed to slow.
I took Bannon's hand, twining my fingers with his. He gave me a tight squeeze, and I knew he, too, hung in awe of her.
Then the spell broke. The burn in my lungs returned, and Bannon tightened his hold around my waist. He kicked, propelling us upward, but I'd already gone too long without breath. A sleepy gloom crept in around the corners of my mind, and all I could think was—
I have beheld the most sacred of serpents. Devourer of serpents. The dragon, upon whose altar snakes are laid to waste.
Was that what my vision meant? The snake's skull in the ritual circle? Not an implement of worship, but an offering to the eater of snakes.
Bannon kicked harder. Then, without warning, the sea dragon streaked past us, ascending like a knife. My barbarian nearly released me, startled by the great predator's movements, but I put out one hand, searching for its fins again.
Looping my arm around Bannon's, I caught the dragon's fin, and we shot upward along with it. We broke the surface with a fantastic spray of sea water and dazzle of colors in the starlight, and I heaved in a desperate breath of air, losing it again almost instantly as I cried out in mingled pain, rapture, and relief.
Tears filled my eyes, and I hugged Bannon close to me as the dragon crested and descended again, this time turning it into a shallow dip. We bobbed at its side, dripping and gulping in air, clutching tight to one another and to the dragon's graceful fin.
"What were you thinking?" Bannon demanded, covering my face and mouth with salty, cold kisses. "You idiot, you incredible idiot, what were you thinking?"
"It's me, Bannon." I brushed wet tendrils of hair from my face. "This whole time, all the strange things happening, it was me. I don't know why, or how—"
"It's all right," he assured me. "We'll find out what it all means. For now, let's just get back on the—"
"Mara!" I covered my mouth with one hand. "Oh, Eye of Akolet... Bannon, did I kill her? Please say I didn't!"
Bannon looked down at me, brow furrowed, then up again, searching the sea around us. The Drekakona floated just ahead. The sea dragon skimmed along the surface of the water toward it at a sprightly pace.
Bannon's expression darkened as we neared the boat. "I'm sorry, Sadira. I don't know."
Chapter Thirty-One
The crew lined up along the starboard rail, a mob of faces staring overboard at us as we approached. Some peered through the portholes and the open sides of the rower's gallery. Ashe and Jahn held gathered lengths of rope, ready to throw them over to us, and Arne stood beside them, gaping.
The sea dragon gave a curious chirrup of a sound that echoed over the water, and dipped briefly below the waves, taking Bannon and me along with it. Then it arced its slender body upward and rose gracefully alongside the Drekakona, spreading out a series of lovely blue and green and violet fins. The sailors gawked, wide-eyed, letting out breathy oohs and ahs as the starlight glimmered along its body.
Bannon and I, still holding tight to one of the smaller fins further down the creature's side, slid ourselves free and dropped to the deck. The crew backed away from us, giving us plenty of space to catch our breath and gather ourselves. Appearing as though from nowhere, Schala butted her head against my side, miaowing and purring, pawing at my hands, licking the seawater dripping from my face.
When I felt steady enough to stand, I gathered the feline up in my arms and gave her a long, grateful squeeze, dripping cold sea water all over, making her fuss. Then I turned to behold the dragon again.
Risen from the water, gilded in a silver gleam, she gazed back at me, eyes like shining pearls. In her full splendor, she teemed with majesty: just below her elegant, angled head and sloping, smooth neck, her first four huge fins appeared more like wings, muscular and elegant, feathered with shimmering, membranous scales. From this vantage, no one could mistake her for anything so common as a snake—even a seven-headed one risen from the desolate, dead sands.
"Thank you," I whispered to her.
She made a rumbling, voiceless sound like wind rushing through reeds. I reached out to lay one hand on her sleek, scaly belly, before she wheeled away and plunged back into the water.
"Mara," Bannon reminded me, even as I gazed wistfully after the winding, skimming hint of scales just below the surface. He took me by the arm and guided me away, though, through the crowd of stunned crew, down to the ladderway and the surgeon's quarters below.
Rayyan waited in the hallway, next to Ailsa's open door. He straightened when he caught sight of us and rushed to greet me with a hug and a string of ugly Vash epithets.
"You idiot!" he shouted, squeezing me so tight Schala wriggled to get out from between us. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself to that beast? Have you completely lost your mind, Sadira?"
"It was... a gambit." I shrugged. "How is Mara?"
"Can't say." He tossed a grim glance over his shoulder. "Ailsa hasn't been able to rouse her. Her pulse is..."
"Weak," I finished for him, voice heavy with shame.
Rayyan gave me a quizzical look. At the same time, Ailsa appeared in the entryway to the surgeon's quarters, arms crossed, her curly, red hair falling out of a hastily gathered knot at the back.
"I think she will live, Da," she reported to Bannon. "But there will be lasting effects. She... may never serve in the horde again."
The words sank like stones in my mind, weighing heavy enough to make my heart hurt and my stomach grow weak. My anger at Mara left her nearly dead. In an instant of raw, unchecked emotion, I'd cursed her, maybe forever. I didn't even know how I had done it.
Worst of all, though... I didn't know how to undo it.
"Can we go in and see her, Sir?" I asked.
Bannon and Ailsa exchanged a silent glance and the healer stepped to the side, gesturing us in. Bannon rested a hand on my shoulder and together we entered.
Mara was not the only member of the crew bunked in the surgeon's ward. Others rested in hammocks or on pallets, bandaged and probably sedated for pain. A few remained awake, murmuring quietly together of the sea dragon's attack on the ship—an attack I now understood as the creat
ure's instinctual response to me. It hadn't had any desire to destroy the Drekakona at all. It attacked to free a kindred spirit in distress and protect them.
Ailsa had delegated Mara a bunk at the very back of the ward, surrounded by empty beds and a behind a quiet buffer of clean white sheets. Mara's skin appeared dull and ashen, clammy with sweat. Dark blue bruises sunk deep under each eye, and the lines across her brow and at the corners of her mouth—barely perceptible before—had deepened slightly. The change might look negligible to the casual observer, but I noticed.
Worst of all, one beautiful, glossy braid on the side of her head had turned a steely, iron gray. It stood out against her marks of honor and battle like a terrible scar.
Like my scars. Like my tattoos. Something she'll never escape.
I knelt beside her bunk, resting my hands on the edge of sheets, not daring to touch her directly.
"I did this to her," I whispered. "If she never fights again... it is because of me."
Bannon said nothing.
We hung in silence for several long moments. Desperate thoughts raced through my mind as I grasped for a solution, some understanding of how to heal the damage I'd done, wishing I could go back and simply not make that decision.
"I must make this better," I finally said. "I will make it better."
Bannon moved closer to me, resting his hands on my shoulders.
"If it is true," he said, "and you have found the spiritual power Alaric believed you possessed, perhaps there is a way."
I withdrew my hands and folded them in my lap. "My people will know. If they are still out there... if we really can find them... someone among them will know, and they can help her. Show me how to help her."
"Mara won't like that," Bannon said with a sigh.
"She'll have every right. But I owe it to her to find a way."
"There is a custom in old Sanraethi ways." He straightened, widening his stance and folding his hands stoically before him. "When one saves another's life, they form a bond unbreakable, even by the will of God. When one takes the life of another unjustly, they become obligated to that person's family, to do what the victim cannot."
Beauty's Secret (Beast and Beauty Book 2) Page 25