Page 36 of Dare

The pool seized my arms and yanked me under.

15

Jeryn

The vortex swallowed me whole, plunging my weight into a roaring abyss. Water latched onto my limbs, snared around my ribs, and drove me down.

This close to the ocean, a harmless pool would be shallow. It would be salted. It would be immobile, not drowning its visitors in an undercurrent.

Beating my limbs only made me sink deeper, which made no fucking sense. I twisted against the undercurrent, the vacuum sweeping me toward its base. I narrowed my gaze, struggling to find a rift in the force. A fissure. A weak spot. My chest convulsed as I pumped, my lungs battling to keep up.

A broad tree vine appeared, plunging through the surface and smacking me across the face. I reeled back as the cord floated before my gaze. Without deliberating, I clamped my digits around the tail and felt it straining to tow me upward. Yet for some reason, my resistance gave the water strength, the pressure on me increasing.

It didn’t help that my weight drove the slack down. When I dropped another three feet, the person holding the cord plummeted halfway into the tumult.

The beast’s wild face and golden irises burst through the blue. Her hands gripped the cord, which had stretched to its limit, though she kept herself from going under fully. Her brows squashed together in frustration. Bubbles spilled from her lips as she said something, either a scolding or instructions.

Or perhaps a demand. Hurry the fuck up!

I slit my gaze. Then I rammed my heels against the water.

It didn’t work. The fool’s hold faltered, the whirlpool threatening to consume her.

I glanced down to see my inevitable destination. A flashing dot of light spiraled below like a distress signal. Fragments came into focus, revealing a fang-shaped pendant and a length of chain.

A sudden absence. An extraction. An irretrievable loss.

Feeling the starkness of my neck, I peered closer at the falling object. A necklace. A vial. The keepsake sank, glass glinting before the murk swallowed it whole. How ironic that it had survived the tempest only to be taken here. I would have laughed if I weren’t thinking of the hands that had given me the pendant, how it used to hang off my childlike frame, how I’d slept with it, ate with it, lived with it. I would have mourned if I weren’t entertaining the notion of going down with the vial, of tearing the thing from the water’s grasp and then dying anyway.

Misguided, to say the least. I had to be in the grips of an illusion.

My body rose. I glanced toward the bane of my existence, who tugged me upward, the attempt successful now that I’d gone limp. When she gave a final pull, we vaulted to the surface, the brunt of it tossing my frame at her like a harpoon. Together, we hefted ourselves onto the soil and collapsed in a breathless heap.

I slumped onto my back beside her, my torso heaving and my lungs clamoring for oxygen. I patted my chest, touching wet skin and muscle but finding no vial there.

Lost. Gone.

The forest went quiet, and tree trunks vanished high into the mist. The vine rested next to me, attached to a neighboring tree. I whipped my head sideways and collided with the mad woman’s gasping profile. Braced on her elbows, the beast’s gaze shot to mine with a ferocity that sent a bolt of alarm across my flesh. I had been right earlier about her eyes, how they flung her emotions out to the world. I saw the hot fear.

She bounced on all fours. I shot to my feet.

The beast ripped out a familiar dagger tethered to her hip. At some point during her escape, she’d retrieved the weapon that had once belonged to Poet.

I seized my scalpel knife, flicked open the longest blade, and wielded it to block her. We halted. Our weapons braced. Suspicion climbed up my fingers, which tightened around the hilt.

I waited for an attack. She did the same.

Then my vision swam, and my joints gave. In my dazed state, the woman lowered her dagger. At which point, the world tipped on its axis. Moments later, she was leaning over me, a blurry splash of dark hair outlined by the wilderness. I saw her as if through curved glass, like an obscure specimen in a container.

Or was I the specimen this time?

Hard soil and stems dug into my spine. It seemed my prediction had come to fruition. The shipwreck, the thirst, and the near-drowning conspired to finish me off.

The fool tilted her head, benign for once in her misbegotten life. It was about fucking time, I thought as she faded from view.

16

Jeryn

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