Dragon Tide Omnibus 2)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  That was just like Rock Eaters. To them, people were interchangeable things. One could easily be substituted for another – or at least to their leaders. I felt a twinge at the many, many memories I had of individual Rock Eaters who had felt differently – and died because of it.

  Atura dragged me forward through the pavilion, past hundreds of staring eyes. Branson kept right behind me and I had the feeling he would be pushing past were the carpeted corridor not so narrow. Something between these two was coming to a head – and quickly!

  As soon as the corridor opened up to a clear space in front of a large throne, Atura dragged me to my knees with the collar. She planted a foot on my shoulder, and I tried not to grind my teeth as Branson planted his foot on my other shoulder.

  They could posture all they wanted. The more time they took humiliating me, the better chance there was that my friends would get up that mountain.

  I bit back my frustration and did the one thing I could to maintain my defiance. I looked up at the Saaasallla, meeting his eyes across the chamber. The strange skull-tattoo across his face made him look foreign and otherworldly – like a character from a tale told to children. I expected him to be dressed grandly, but he wore a robe that was cuffed tightly around feet and hands, just like the Bubbler robes – only his was purple. Where their utility belts wrapped around their waists, he wore a more elaborate belt. It was metal – woven from three pieces with rocks set into the weave. It took me a moment to realize that they weren’t gemstones. They glowed slightly. As did a string of rocks slung around his neck to a double loop.

  I shuddered. I couldn’t help it. Anyone who decorated themselves with dozens of souls deserved a good shudder.

  His eyes glittered with amusement as they met mine – as if he could read my thoughts and found them funny. And then those eyes turned hard and cruel. It was as if I was watching a pond freeze before my eyes.

  “Honored Saaasallla, may you live forever,” Atura said. “All souls belong to you. All lives are in your hands.”

  Well, that didn’t sound good.

  “Honored Saaasallla,” Branson’s words stumbled over Atura’s. “I present this Key Holder to you to open the Haroc. She is the one we – ”

  “The prisoner is mine!” Atura interrupted.

  The Saaasallla made a gesture – his pinkie held up and his hand forming a fist and slashing across his chest. Their words cut off immediately.

  The cruelty in his eyes bubbled up. He wore a collar like Atura and Branson – so his face could easily be seen, and his voice heard.

  “There is a dispute about who will be given credit for the capture of this girl?”

  Atura bowed lower – as if that was some kind of assent. As soon as she did, Branson bowed lower yet. I tried to straighten but their feet pressed me down harder.

  The Saaasallla’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.

  “That is a problem.” He lifted both his fists. “In one hand, I hold renown and the honor of opening the Haroc. In the other hand, I hold death. One will be granted to each of you. But which? Shall we ask your prisoner?”

  I smiled at him – or at least, I bared all my teeth.

  “Perhaps not,” he said coldly. “Perhaps, we will let you choose. Prisoner, which champion will you choose to honor you? If that one wins – we’ll let you live after you open the Haroc – how’s that?”

  I wasn’t about to play his sick games. I kept my mouth shut. They’d be killing me regardless of who I chose. I wouldn’t make it any easier on their consciences.

  “A choice not to choose is still a choice,” the Saaasallla said – and he seemed pleased, as if he had hoped this would be the outcome all along. “Branson Kendark will fight for the girl’s life. They are – after all – blood. May the honored people draw back from the competitors. Decide, my champions, which of you will open which hand.”

  Did he mean –?

  Yes.

  Based on the way that Atura and Branson were squaring up – Atura still with the rope of my collar in her hand – they were planning to fight each other for the honor.

  Or for their lives.

  And I was tethered right between them.

  Chapter Ten

  “Give up while you can, softling,” Atura spat. Spitting seemed like a silly thing to do in the middle of the ocean, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Not when it was all I could do to dodge out of the way – barely – as Branson stabbed at her with his rod. A spurt of bubbles poured from the end of it.

  I tried to kick backward through the bubbles, but Atura held my tether tightly and one of them broke across my face, sending me coughing and gasping, wheezing in the tainted air now inside my collar as I tried to expel the noxious fumes from the bubbles Branson had sent at us.

  “Hold her!” the words were rough as Atura shoved my tether into the hands of a guard.

  Maybe this was my chance.

  Around Atura and Branson, the people in attendance to the Saaasallla were painted in shades ranging from shock to anticipation, their faces bright with strong emotion. They pulled back from the combatants, forming a ring around them – but a cautious ring.

  The only person who appeared pleased was the Saaasalla. He lounged back in his throne, enjoying the display of underwater martial arts.

  Fighting – no matter how skilled – was dulled underwater. Movements were slowed, dragging out as the combatants had to fight the pull of the water. Jabs worked better than slashes. Pokes were more effective than kicks.

  And it seemed that Atura knew that. It was almost as if she had trained to fight underwater. She practically danced from one strange strike to another. The tips of her fingers were pressed together, forming each hand into the stinging head of a viper. It was with those that she shot her strange attacks at Branson, darting in to strike at an eye or ear before somersaulting back through the water or under his guard entirely. She didn’t fight just on a flat plane. She made use of the water above and below him – a whirlwind of attacks and strikes. I was impressed. I was certainly going to die now that Branson was my champion – but I was still impressed.

  It took all I had to shake myself and look away from the battle. The guard holding my neck collar was equally mesmerized. If I could loosen my bonds, then maybe I could be ready to remove that collar and escape when the time was right. I wiggled my hands carefully, stretching at the ropes as they chafed my skin. I didn’t want to make the knots tighter, but with my hands behind my back, loosening the knots seemed like a losing prospect. My best chance would be to stretch the ropes and try to get a hand to wiggle out. I flexed, pushing at the strength of the hemp that bound me. I was having little effect. A few months ago, I would have grown frustrated, but I’d learned since then that patience was key. Patiently, I stretched my bonds, again and again and hoped that Nasataa and Heron were getting close to their goal.

  Thinking about them made it possible to put aside thoughts of death. I didn’t want to die. But I wanted to save them even more than I wanted to live. There would be a way. I just needed to be strong, bide my time, and keep trying everything I could.

  Atura spun so close to me that the bubbles in the wake of her turn broke across my collar’s bubble. She winked at me as she went past, pivoting at the last moment to land an aggressive strike to Branson’s nose.

  He stumbled as blood darkened the water around them, but he didn’t slow. Instead, he pivoted as she went by, reached out and grabbed her from behind, pinning her in his strong arms. She tried to wiggle downward, but he forced a knee between her legs, pushing her into an uncomfortable position that made it impossible for her to wriggle downward out of his grasp.

  I should be cheering for Branson, but instead, most of me wanted to see her pummel him.

  I should be cheering for Branson.

  Wait.

  Had I had that thought before? I couldn’t remember.

  I couldn’t remember why these two were fighting at all. I watched the two of them fighting as confusion fil
led me. Weren’t they on the same side?

  I reached up to touch the collar around my neck – the woven one. The one that ... something about memories ... but my hands were tied behind my back. Oh. Well, there was nothing to be done about that.

  Why had I been tied? I felt like I was missing something that had been there just a moment ago.

  I couldn’t remember. I felt my forehead furrowing as the people around us cheered or banged spear hafts against the rough seafloor.

  They were cheering Atura who stood on top of someone’s fallen body. Someone I hadn’t seen before – or at least I didn’t think I had.

  How strange. Why was she standing on him? Why did she look so victorious? Why were so many looks of pity cast my direction? Did these people expect me to be sad about the man she was standing on? I’d seen her take him down with a clever and sudden strike that had surprised me almost as much as it did him.

  She looked at me, staring into my eyes as if she was looking for something – some sign. I didn’t know what she wanted.

  Did I feel bad for Branson? Not really. He was an awful person. He wanted to destroy everything I loved.

  Who was Branson? Why had I thought that name?

  Atura looked almost disappointed as she plucked a rod and a small stone up from the ocean floor, held them up and began to draw something silky and black from the head of the fallen man into the rod.

  I watched his soul taken from him and put into a rock.

  That was wrong. Even when I couldn’t remember who that was or why it mattered, it was wrong. Even when it was someone who had to be stopped – I had the feeling that this person had to be stopped – someone who would destroy everything good in the world given half a chance, even then it was still wrong.

  I felt my mouth twisting at the thought and as I looked up to meet the eyes of the Saaasallla I saw a cruel grin twisting his face. He must think I was worried, but I wasn’t. I always knew they would kill me when they were done with me. That had never been a question. Why was I thinking that? My forehead wrinkled at the strange thoughts filling it. Something about dying now. But no – I had to open the Haroc first.

  It was long minutes until Atura was done and when she was, she tossed the stone to the Saaasallla.

  “With honor, Saaasallla, I give you the soul of this one. And now, should we finish what we came here to begin?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Finish it,” the Saaasallla said with an expression that reminded me of a snake right before it struck. “As the representative of our great Empire, I command you to take the girl to the Draven and open their Haroc. Place the Manticore upon it and win for us glory. But be sure they know you are a Rock Eater and the scion of the Saaasallla. All honor belongs to our Empire for this victory.”

  Yeah, take the credit, Saaasallla. Why did Atura put up with this? She was doing all the work – work that I hated, but I had to admit that she’d worked hard and fought tough battles to get here – and now her father swooped in at the last second, lounged around on a chair underwater and then demanded full credit. Nice. It made me glad I wasn’t royalty. That seemed like a tough deal.

  Something tingled at the back of my mind – a memory? No. I had no memories of anything to do with royalty. A brief glimmer of a golden dragon and then nothing. Who was he?

  I needed to stop thinking about memories I’d lost – silly things from childhood no doubt. I was about to go and try a last-ditch effort to free the world that would likely end in my death whether I succeeded or failed.

  My stomach clenched at the thought, but I fought down the feelings of nausea. I could do this. I had to do this. There was no one else.

  I tried to think of my home, but when I thought back to it, I couldn’t remember where it was. Was it an island? My brow furrowed as I tried to dig for it. There had been people there who I cared about ... hadn’t there been?

  Atura held out her hand and the guard gave her a rope. A quick tug on the rope startled me. It was attached to my collar. Had that been there all along?

  I felt a stab of panic. Something wasn’t right.

  The Saaasallla leaned forward in his throne.

  “One last thing, sacrifice,” he said, looking at me. Was he talking to me? How was I a sacrifice? “That collar the Draven gave you can give you memories. Maybe you remember some of them?”

  I flinched as old memories resurfaced. I was running through knee-deep mud trying to flee the Bubblers with my brother. He was crying from somewhere behind me. I turned to reach for him. His feet were stuck in the mud. I couldn’t budge them. The enemy was almost upon us.

  The Saaasalla cleared his throat and I jumped, confusion filling my mind like a fog. I’d had a brother?

  “Well, that collar can take memories, too. Isn’t that nice? I don’t want to touch your memories of the keys. We need those intact. But I’m fine with draining the rest. Branson had it set to a slow drain. I will speed that up. You’ll still remember that you’re losing them as they go, but I think that should keep you nice and calm as Atura leads you the Haroc, hmmm? And it will please the Draven. They like playing with memories. It’s all they have.”

  A stab of terror shot through me. He was taking my memories? They were just ... vanishing? I tried to think about why he would do that, but no answer came. And that made it worse. Because I didn’t know if there was no answer or if he had stolen the answer right from my mind.

  Atura tugged on the rope and I stumbled after her, nearly falling on my face. With a frustrated sound, she reached behind me and I felt the pressure leave my wrists. My hands fell to my sides, free.

  Something in my mind flashed – some kind of excitement. I was excited that my hands were free. Why? Had I wanted to do something with them? I was pretty sure that I did, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was.

  We were through the pavilion doors and kicking up into the water above when Atura next spoke to me.

  “You should be glad that he’s draining your memories, Seleska. If I could, I would drain every one of mine.”

  Happiness was not the emotion I was feeling.

  Chapter Twelve

  We weren’t alone as we swam up toward the Haroc on the top of the underwater mountain. Dark swirls of Draven above seemed to whirl so quickly that they looked more like a pod of feeding dolphins than like horrific black blobby creatures. And the ones on the mountain seemed just as excited. They stayed well back from the Haroc, knowing that Atura needed to see and hear to get me there, but they moved constantly as if their excitement was too great to contain. Every so often I saw a flash among them that made me think of lightning, but it was never large enough to see clearly.

  On either side of us, guards swam to protect Atura on every side. But what did she need that for? Did she have any enemies here other than me? And other than my friends sneaking up the mountain? I didn’t think so. But if I was being honest, my mind was fuzzy and I couldn’t remember much. I tried to reach back and pull up thoughts – but I couldn’t remember my home at all. I couldn’t remember meeting Atura the first time or why she was my enemy. All I could remember was that I needed Nasataa to sit on the Haroc. That was the one thing I had to hold onto.

  That, and the keys. The thought ‘key’ made my forehead wrinkle. There was something important about keys that I wasn’t remembering.

  What about keys could I have forgotten?

  There was an air of jubilation in the people around us. Four Bubblers carried a sheet with a small Manticore on it. He wore a bubble collar that made it so he could breathe underwater and he growled and snapped at anything that came close, but they treated him with great reverence.

  “Bring Felroc close when we get there, but not too close. We need Seleska to open the Haroc and if he shreds her to pieces that will be hard to do,” Atura ordered when she passed close to the Bubblers with the sheet.

  She paid me no mind at all other than to tug my collar with the rope. I swam hard to keep up with her. She sped through the
water as if her life depended on the speed of our journey. Maybe it did. I couldn’t remember anymore.

  “Why are we enemies?” I asked after a while.

  She snorted wryly. “Maybe I should ask the Saaasallla to give me that collar when this is accomplished. I’d love to have a memory like yours.”

  “I don’t think you would,” I said, flinching from a painful memory that bubbled up at her words. I didn’t know if it was mine or someone else’s anymore. Maybe they were all mine. Maybe none of them were.

  All I knew was that I needed to open the Haroc and get Nasataa into it. Although I couldn’t remember where he was. Or why I kept watching the mountain, growing more and more fearful as the numbers of Draven on it grew and the lightning flashes grew more frequent.

  Heron would keep him safe.

  Where had that thought come from?

  Who was Heron?

  “I was supposed to forgive you,” Atura said wryly. “He babbled about it in my head for days.”

  “Who did?”

  We were closer to the mountain now. I could see the Haroc glowing above and make out the details of the rocky structure.

  “Hubric. He said I could still win – that all of this could be for something. If I could only forgive you and embrace the truth.”

  “Who is Hubric?” I asked.

  She laughed. “Yeah. I don’t know why I’m talking to you right now. It’s worse than talking to a pet dog. At least you don’t expect the dog to understand what you’re talking about. I don’t forgive you, by the way. I hate you. You have everything I’ve ever wanted and you’re an idiot. It’s frustrating to watch you being so bad at living your life. You were terrible at getting those keys first or protecting the people you loved. You just kind of fell into things with no plan. You didn’t properly use your allies. You weren’t willing to take calculated risks if you thought it might hurt someone. And now look? It was all for nothing. Everyone you cared about along the way is either dead or dying. You’ve lost your memory. You can’t possibly win. All that softness didn’t help you one bit. If you’d just been smarter and more determined, you might have had a chance. But no. You’re so you and it makes me want to grind my teeth to dust.”