Page 46 of Unbound

It makes me wonder if there's actually something more to Malakai's murderous intent. What if it's not just simple bloodthirst or ambition? What if there's some other angle I'm not seeing?

But now is hardly the time to dwell on mysteries.

I wade through the slimy shallows of the lake, my breath fleeing the moment the icy water touches my bare skin. Goosebumps erupt across my body, but I force myself to keep walking deeper, feet slipping on submerged rocks slick with algae.

Eventually, I'm deep enough to swim and submerge myself beneath the waters. We've trained with Sestra to form bubbles of air around our mouths beneath the water.

Before now, I've never succeeded. This knowledge wasn't exactly helping me sleep once Raith told me about the trial. I decided I could, at worst, swim on the surface and just hold my breath as much as possible.

I fumble in the freezing cold and dark waters for several minutes, bobbing to the surface to gulp air and then diving down again as I try to draw water and air together to make a bubble around my mouth.

It's slow work, but I eventually succeed.

Sort of.

Instead of a small bubble around my mouth and nose, I end up creating a huge one around my entire head. It stretches and threatens to break if I swim too fast, but it provides me with air and a surprisingly clear view of the lake's depths.

I see vegetation rising from below, swaying eerily in unseen currents. If I squint, I think I even see a few distant dark shapes moving through the water. Other students, maybe?

I glance behind my back, suddenly sure I'll see Malakai himself coming at me. But it's just more water and more vegetation.

With the bubble in place, I find my thoughts drifting to Beck and Ambrose's stupid story about some kind of sea monster as I swim.

It would be easier to dismiss if their stories and this lake didn't seem to match what I've been seeing in my nightmares for weeks.

Pushing it all from my mind, I focus on the task at hand. I need to find an echo to pass the trial, and I need to pass the trial to make it to Confluence Day.

So how the hell am I going to do that?

According to the book, the unbound can sense the elements differently—not by creating, but by feeling what already exists. I let myself sink slightly, trailing my fingers through the water, trying to sense... something.

At first, there's nothing. Just cold, dark water. Then, gradually, I become aware of currents—little eddies and flows that seem to carry whispers of... intention? Memory? I can't quite grasp it, but I know it's there.

I dive deeper, following one such current. The light fades quickly, leaving me in greenish twilight. My ears pop and pressure builds around me, but I push on, drawn by something I can't name.

There—a flicker of blue light perhaps twenty feet below. An echo?

I swim toward it, my head feeling like it might cave in as the pressure continues to mount.

Once I'm closer, I can see it's indeed one of the marble-like echoes, nestled in a crevice between rocks. I reach for it, fingertips closing around the smooth sphere.

I sense something coming toward me.

I swirl so fast the bubble around my head nearly pops. And then I see him. Malakai is swimming toward me with a bubble around his eyes, nose, and mouth and a shifting, shimmering kind of water dagger in one hand.

Panic clutches at me, threatening to keep me stuck in place—motionless and helpless.

And then he’s on me.

I kick off the ground, dodging his first stab in what feels like slow motion. He comes again, and I see he's moving faster than he should be able to—using the water to propel himself, somehow.

I barely twist out of the way of another attack as his big body flows past, yanking me to the side with the force of his movement.

A cold reality settles over me.

Do something, or you're going to die down here.

Malakai turns, dagger in his hand as his muscular body ripples in the dark depths of the water. Something about the muffled silence of fighting for my life beneath the water—with nothing but my ragged breath echoing within my own bubble—feels wrong. Claustrophobic.

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