Page 1 of Rising from the Depths

Chapter 1

364 Years After Landing

“Do we really needthemtagging along?” Ozcar asked, jabbing a thumb toward the small group of kraken males gathered on the dock nearby.

Breckett, the burly, hairy-faced man standing within arm’s reach of Ozcar, didn’t glance up from the rope he was coiling. “They’re part of The Watch as much as you or me.”

The surrounding water sparkled under the morning sun, casting bright, undulating light on the fishermen as they prepared their boats and equipment. The day was already warm. Nine months ago, it would have bothered Kronus; his years beneath the waves and within the controlled, consistent climate of the Facility hadn’t prepared him for the weather on land, but he’d since adjusted to the fluctuating, more extreme temperatures on the surface.

“We’ve been taking care of our own for three hundred and sixty years,” Ozcar argued. “We didn’t need them through any of that, and we don’t need them now.”

Kronus clenched his jaw to hold in the words that nearly spewed from his mouth; they wouldn’t help the situation.

It isuswho do not needyou.

The other kraken — Vasil, Brexes, and Charos — exchanged glances with one another, their tentacles writhing restlessly on the dock’s surface.

Many of The Watch’s humans at least attempted to be friendly to the kraken, but some, like Ozcar, made no secret of their distrust and suspicion. It didn’t matter to the latter group that the two people had lived together in peace for well over a year. Kronus understood their feelings. When they looked at the kraken, they saw inevitable violence, saw the looming destruction of their way of life, sawmonsters.

Part of Kronus felt the same way when he looked at humans.

He adjusted his hold on his harpoon gun, ensuring it was directed away from Ozcar — more to deny himself the temptation than put the human at ease. He shifted his attention to the gentle water off the dockside.

“Funny how some of you kids talk about how things used to be like you have any idea,” Breckett grumbled, tossing the coiled rope into his boat. “Fishing’s the best it’s ever been, and this town is at its strongest in decades.”

“That’s because of this mass migration,” Ozcar said. “The coast is teeming like never—”

“Don’t tellmelike never before.” Breckett’s skin reddened beneath his thick facial hair.

Conflicts between young and old, between past and present, were familiar to Kronus. But he had no desire to reflect upon his own experiences; there was work to be done. Out there, in the open water, he could forget everything else for a while and focus on what mattered — the hunt.

He could focus on helpinghis people.

“This is unheard of!” Ozcar declared. “These numbers, in these concentrations—”

“It’s happened before,” Breckett said, “and it will again.”

“These migrations are regular occurrences,” said Vasil, drawing all eyes to him.

Ozcar’s face reddened; Kronus doubted the younger human’s frustrations were quite the same as Breckett’s.

Monstersweren’t supposed to have a say.

“Every fifteen or twenty years,” Vasil continued, “mature mirrorfins gather along the coast to breed, and it attracts all manner of sea life.”

“And our nets can handle it, just like always,” said Ozcar. “We don’t needthem.”

“We need them now more than ever, looking out for us,” Breckett said. “Making sure we all get home.”

“Unless you believe your nets and little boat will hold against a razorback,” Kronus said, staring at Ozcar. “You are welcome to take that risk. We are not the only predators lured by this migration.”

Kronus turned his attention away, ignoring Ozcar’s stammered response. He watched the sunlight glittering across the ocean’s surface. He’d spent his life below, watching shafts of light create dancing webs of delicate shadow on the sea floor. Even after nine months in The Watch, it felt strange to witness everything from land, especially beside the beings his ancestors had reviled and warred against.

Human voices called his gaze toward the shore. The dock was flanked on either side by swathes of beach visible only when the tide was at its lower phases — as it was now — over which stood tall, curving cliffs.

They were dressed in what Kronus understood to beunderclothes— scant garments that covered only what humans considered their most intimate parts. A common enough sight; the beach near the kraken dwellings outside town had grown popular for many of The Watch’s humans, who often wore similar attire when they swam.

Though this beach was faster and more convenient to access from town — a quick walk down a ramp rather than a hike through the jungle — Kronus couldn’t help but suspect another reason for these humans to have come here.

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