Page 48 of Heir of Illusion

“Why don’t you just fly out?”

“And abandon you?” He tosses a grin over his shoulder.

When he turns back around, I briefly consider smacking him on the head with my oar. For a moment, I think he won’t answer me, but then he speaks again.

“Look up.” He points at the sharp rocks jutting out of the ceiling. The light from my sunstone catches the glare of beady eyes as they stare down at me.Bats.I quickly drop my gaze, hoping to avoid angering this group. I’d prefernotto be swarmed again.

“Those rocks combined with poor visibility don’t make for good flying conditions,” Thorne continues to explain. “It’s not worth the risk.”

“How do you conceal your wings?” I ask again.

“Magic.”

As I roll my eyes at his nonanswer, something below the surface catches my attention. A flickering light darts past us beneath the dark waters.

My brows shoot up as I grab the side of the boat and peer over the edge. “Did you see that?”

“What?” he asks, twisting toward me.

Bursts of color move through the water: blue, purple, and green. Dozens of them swim in playful circles around our canoe.

“Well, I definitely saw that,” he says, releasing his oar as he turns around.

Lights rise to the surface, coming close enough for us to make out their shape.

“Gormags,” I murmur, memorized by the school of tiny fish.

Gormags are one of the most beautiful creatures in the world, despite their small size. Each of them emits a bioluminescent glow, creating a sea of color around us. They’re usually only found at great depths, but somehow, a colony of them must have migrated to this underground river. I suppose it makes sense, since they avoid sunlight.

“I’ve never seen them in person before,” Thorne muses next to me. “Only in paintings.”

“Neither have I.” I reach a hand into the water, utterly enthralled by their beauty. Several of the gormags come to investigate, sliding against my fingers with their slick scales.

Thorne’s gaze flickers to me. “You and the captain seem familiar.”

I twist my head toward him, surprised by the randomness of statement.

“He’s the closest thing I’ve had to a father,” I answer honestly as I continue dragging my hand through the water and letting the fish inspect me.

Thorne’s brows pinch with confusion. “I thought Lord Pomeroy was still alive?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Have you been checking up on me, Reaper?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs, not sounding sorry.

“Then I’m sure you can fill in the blanks about why my father and I aren’t close,” I say, turning my attention back to the fish. I laugh as one of them wraps its mouth around my pinky, nibbling at me with its gums.

Thorne chuckles, the sound rich and throaty. “Is it trying to eat you?”

I smile as the fish releases my finger. “Pretty difficult without teeth.”

My amusement fades as the gormags suddenly scatter, disappearing back to the depths of the river and leaving us in darkness again.

“What happened?” My brows scrunch together.

“I think we should—” Thorne’s words cut off as his gaze shifts behind me, his face twisting with horror.

I don’t get a chance to ask him what’s wrong before something wraps around my torso and drags me overboard. My eyes sting as I struggle to see anything through the dark water rushing around me. I make out a pale tentacle wrapped about my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. Thrashing against its hold, I fight to free myself as it pulls me to the bottom of the river.

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