Page 100 of Flame and Sparrow

The waves were, in fact…creatures.

Creatures with skinny-whip tails and rodent-like bodies shifting and moving with the fluidity of water, with claws and teeth made of sharp bits of the same rocks I’d been racing along.

I braced a hand against the ground as the watery vermin swarmed around me. More and more kept coming, a new body taking shape every time a wave crashed against the rocks and left bubbles of dirty, pebbly foam behind.

One of the rodents rose up from a glob of foam directly beside me and dove for my sword, claws outstretched as if to try and knock it from my grip. I whisked the weapon from its path, but its sharp stone teeth grazed my wrist and left bloody streaks behind.

Biting back a hiss of pain, I swung reflexively after the creature. As the blade connected with its body, a jolt of power shot out from the sword, and the water rat dissolved once more into sea foam and droplets that scattered into the wind.

I repeated this over and over, sending the rodents soaring and scurrying in all directions. But they kept coming back, three more appearing for every one I managed to send into the sea. There were simply too many; my arms were already aching from the effort of swinging my sword.

I looked desperately back to the path ahead, finally noting the distance that remained between me and the island I’d set out for—it wasn’t very far.

The water rodents felt like a mere distraction that would never end as long as I kept giving them my attention; my true target was the fortress and the beast within it, so maybe I could shake these vermin off if I just kept going.

I gave one last mighty swing of my blade, knocking aside the rodents closest to me, and then I broke once more into a run.

The creatures gave chase, but they seemed to lose their shape as we went. Soon there were no fangs gnashing nor claws scraping the rocks—at least, not that I could see or hear.

I glanced back and saw what was left of the watery bodies turning away from the path, tumbling into the sea and swelling it to an increasingly threatening size. On both sides of me, water quickly rose over the rocks, spilling into my path and making it more slippery and treacherous with every passing second.

The fortress grew clearer as I approached. I spotted a set of stairs leading up into what looked to be the main floor; the door to it was open. Inviting, almost. And it was higher ground.

I vaulted up the steps and made a last, desperate leap through the arched doorway, landing painfully hard on the stone floor and rolling forward as far and as fast as I could.

A wall of water roared up and crashed in after me, flooding the space for a moment before receding at a crawling, almost hesitant pace, as if the sea was alive and reluctant to stop chasing me.

I rose shakily to my feet, watching the doorway to make sure the waters were done trying to claim me for the moment.

The ground trembled. An odd sound—a sharp, menacing sort of clicking—reached my ears, and suddenly the ocean and its rumblings were no longer my greatest concern.

Turning around, I found myself staring up at a beast many, many times larger than the rodents outside.

Its body was more solid, as well—though water still accented much of its appearance, shearing off its leathery, grey, muscular frame like rapids rushing over river rocks. When it moved, it left trails of that water in its wake—trails that rapidly evaporated, some of the droplets returning to bulk up its body once more. It was a constant cycle, restless and churning, contained yet unpredictable, much like the sea itself.

When the waters were at their most settled point around its frame, the monster vaguely resembled a cross between a large cat and something serpentine, with four powerful legs, a lithe body, and a head like a snake.

The clicking sound I’d heard had come from its long tail, the tip of which was covered with wet, shiny barbs. The barbs rattled against the stone floor with every swish of that skinny, reptilian tail.

It stalked closer.

My pulse quickened. My knees shook. I backed toward the doorway only to stop at the sound of waves roaring louder outside, cutting off my escape.

There was nowhere to run.

The beast let out an eerie wail before it lunged.

I tripped as I tried to get out of its way, barely catching myself against the rough wall. It struck directly beside me, slamming into the stone with enough force to leave the wall buckling before it pushed off, then twisting after me with surprising agility for such a large creature.

My legs still had not recovered from my desperate sprint along the causeway. My breaths were still shallow, my sword arm still shaking. This was hardly a fair fight, and I could imagine the Ocean God’s sadistic laughter as he watched me struggling to even know where—or how—to start.

Wereallthe Marr watching this unfold from some lofty, comfortable tower, like they had watched my last trial?

The thought sent indignant heat flooding through me.

If they wanted a show, I would fucking give them one.

I took my sword in both hands and rapidly circled the room, sprinting out of the beast’s reach and moving in a weaving pattern to make myself more difficult to pin down. While I observed the water beast out of one eye, I scanned the room with the other, searching for something I could use to my advantage.

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