Page 105 of The Shadowed Oracle
“Only in the movies,” Ingrid laughed, turning to Veston and finding even more confusion contorting his face. “Never mind. Monkeys are very different than symia. But how different, that’s the question. The book spoke of them like they were still unknowns. They’re masters of disguise, so not many Viator have gotten close enough to study them.”
“How do they know they can speak, then?” Tyla acted as if she’d caught Ingrid in a lie, but she got no response.
Ingrid was totally focused on what was ahead of her now. She’d only been able to catch glimpses of the symia as they rested between jumps from tree to tree, but now, as the ship drew closer, she could make out a full silhouette in the starlit night.
The larger symia, who looked to be a few inches shorter than Ingrid, was grooming the smaller one, maybe a child. Ingrid wasn’t able to discern mindless mouth movements from speaking from that distance, so she watched closely, reveling in the possibility that she was the first Earth-born to see this in a long, long time.
“What is that?” Tyla’s voice held concern, but was low.
“Ingrid,” Veston quickly added. “I’d advise you to step away from the ledge.”
“They’re harmless,” Ingrid argued. “Really. They want nothing to do with us. Unlike the Lina bats you were—” She expected to see smiling faces when she turned to them, but only beheld raw, pure terror in the expressions of her companions.
“Please,” Tyla hissed. “Get back here. Now.”
Ingrid fixed her attention back on the island, half-heartedly trying to glimpse what it was the two of them were referencing. Maybe it was one of those sea-lizards she had read about, sliding itself into the water from the shores of the island. Or maybe it was one of the gargantuan wild birds of prey called Occanthus, native to the Occi Isles, with its black and blue scales and feathers. They were breathtakingly large, which would explain the fear in Tyla’s eyes, but they were also peaceful, easily domesticated, and most importantly, they were vegetarians.
But she saw nothing of the sort.
A monstrous, frighteningly loud splash came from just below. She shot her eyes downward. Swimming just under thesurface of the calm ocean water, was a shadow. The dark outline of a serpent stretching out so long that Ingrid couldn’t make out the head from the tail. It was easily over one hundred feet long, larger than a blue whale.
Ingrid took one, then two, then three large paces backward, centering herself in the middle of the foredeck.
“Veston, any ideas?” Ingrid asked.
“Pertaining to what? If you’re asking what to do, I can’t help. But if you’re?—”
“What the fuck is this thing?” she hissed.
“Hydra. A syph-serpent from the Southern Depths.” Veston’s calmness had turned into an eerie quiet. “Though I’ve never seen one this big. Or anywhere near this part of the world, mind you.”
Tyla moved closer to the general at her side, placing a hand on his upper back and whispering, “Do we tell the captain?”
Veston grunted an affirmation, told the two females to keep an eye on the Hydra, then walked briskly but quietly to the helm of the ship.
When he returned, he injected some optimism into his delivery. “We’ll be coming up on the first island in the Occi sporattes soon. A small population, but Captain says the presence of so many Viator should scare it off.”
“Scare it? You thinkthisgets scared?”
“Captain assured me. He’s no stranger to Hydras. Habitually self-isolating, he said. It will move on soon.”
But there was no change in the beast to suggest that. The only difference was the pace at which it swam. Slower, more intent, more curious. Just circling the ship, over and over, like it was sizing them up. With its now unhurried movements, Ingrid could make out the three heads of the creature, fins jutting from the top and sides, and the pale yellow scales glistening like diamonds in the bright moonlight.
Ingrid might’ve been transfixed by the sight… if the creature hadn’t come to a full stop and lifted one of its heads from the water.
The ocean rippled and foamed with the movement of the gargantuan monster. Waves lapped against the ship as the neck stretched up, up, up, until the creature stared down directly at the three Viator standing at the front of the ship. If it wanted to, it could swallow half of the ship whole.
The fins on the side of the head fanned out, its giant lime green eyes going wide, so sentient, so aware, like it was scanning each individual aboard.
Sailors and deckhands behind them stirred, whispering to one another, while the undercover soldiers—Veston’s two underlings—did not bear arms just yet. They’d been ordered to stay their hands in case anyone was watching from afar and thought a merchant ship carrying that kind of weaponry odd.
Footsteps clattered. Plans were communicated. Fears were choked back. Then the serpent’s central head sank back into the cold dark water, its impossibly long body slithering away for what seemed like minutes before it fully disappeared.
It took another moment for the ship’s crew and passengers to fully calm.
And then a voice, rumbling and cold, cut through the silence.
Ingrid turned to see Dean planted at the top of the staircase leading to the main deck. His face was twisted in a confusing mixture of anger and fear and embarrassment. His eyes held that same tiredness he’d had in Maradenn, but in place of that distant stare was the unmistakable inertia of purpose. He had something to say.
