Page 18 of Of Rime and Ruin
I blink, refocusing. The beast’s eyes darken to impossibly black. His claws inch closer, screeching on the ice a scale’s breadth from my tail.
I shake my head, fighting the brain freeze with sheer force of my will. I sing again, stronger this time. My Voice ripples out. Angry. Loud.
I meet the barrier again, but instead of charging head-on, I spread out my magic, searching for weak points. I slip through the smallest crack, my conscience thin as thread.
The beast snarls. He blinks and shakes his head. Inside, his thoughts are a mess of black swirls, writhing like rattlefish.
Complex. Most fish are singular-minded with one dominant emotion at a time. With a psyche much closer to Ramona’s vast menagerie of thought, this creature has three emotions, at least. Chaos. Anger. Fear. And they’ve taken the offensive.
The tendrils rear their heads as I spiral into their midst. They lash at me with sharp tongues, protecting the center of his mind. I strengthen my spell, pouring more and more of myself into it until my energy uncoils from my gut and drains.
My Voice pierces his psyche, and the black mist parts to reveal the glowing center. The orb is black, with thin beams of white light streaking through the cracks. I speed toward it. Focus my energy. Surround him with my essence.
Friend.
I project the word with all I’ve got. His thoughts batter my conscience, cold as ice.
Friend,I repeat.
I concentrate on my happiest, warmest memory: climbing a palmwood as a guppy. Before the politics. Before I realized my future was a meaningless sham.
The bark scrapes my hands, rough and hot. Its sap sticks to my skin and my hair. Broad leaves brush my arms. My feet press into the trunk, propelling me higher. Higher. The high-tide sun beats from a clear sky. Sweat drips on the side of my face. I reach for the sweetnut suspended within its branches, my mouth watering for its milk.
When I look down, Winona stands with her hands stretched, ready for the catch.
His claw snares my fin, and he yanks. My body slips out of the crevice, scraping along the ice. Pain traces my spine.
Fuck. I shouldn’t have gone with a food memory. For all I know, I’ve made him hungrier.
But he doesn’t eat me. Yet.
He tucks me into his side, claws gripping my hips, arm across my back. My breasts press into his toned, scaled stomach. His thigh brushes my tail, which tucks between his legs. Against his body, I feel small. He’s at least twice my size. I wriggle, trying to break his grip, and a growl rumbles through his body.
My stomach dips as the beast shifts. His muscles flex. He kicks with his legs, tail snapping, and propels us through the water. Against me, his hips move rhythmically side to side.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was sexual.
I squirm and press my hand into his skin to strengthen our mental connection—his abs, I realize, as my fingers graze a pocket of raised muscle. Just beneath the broad pectoral. His nipple puckers from the cold, a dark button in a plane of blue scales.
FRIEND!
A reminder, for me and for the beast.
Within his mind, his center of self glows brightly, the orb expanding in a dome of light. The shadows soften and change color, from black to blue to white.
Curiosity floods his thoughts. He replays my sweetnut memory, focusing on the sunshine. The warmth.
That’s right, Beasty. See? We’re friends. I can show you the sun someday, if you like. Have you ever seen the sun before?
I pat his chest with my hand.Pat, pat, pat.Like a guppy.
This pisses him off. The curiosity zaps away, replaced once more with those shadow-tendrils. I flinch as they pelt me with ice, and I sever my spell to conserve what’s left of my energy.
I withdraw into the shell of my mind, gills fluttering fast.
It’s no use. His mind is too complicated for my skill. Ramona’s mind is more so, but she’s always been willing.
I’ve never met a creature I could not subdue. But this beast cannot be tamed.
