Page 22 of Heir of Autumn
“Now, you listen here, Evander Stink.”
Evander gasped. How come I never thought of that one? Nice job, Satchel.
“I’ve fought far greater threats than you,” Satchel continued. “And I’m not about to let you talk down to me just because I’m little, or because I’m a familiar, and you think that means that I’m somehow beneath you.”
Satchel gasped suddenly, then flew away from Evander, heading toward the center of the island. I scratched the top of my head. But things were just getting good!
Evander sniffled, his hands clasped together. “Well, that was completely unnecessary.”
“Beneath you,” Satchel repeated, hovering toward the ground. He knelt, placed his hand on the earth, then shot right back up into the air. “Everybody, off the island, now!”
The ground trembled, the island quaked. A fracture tore open across the surface, swallowing the earth in a fissure and splitting our party in half. Namirah and Evander had it easy, one transforming and the other butterflying into the air to safety.
Sylvain scrambled back toward the boat, craning his neck to search for me.
“Go on without me,” I shouted. “I’ll be okay.”
He stared on, face creased with worry as I sprinted away from the widening fissure, heading toward a small outcropping of rock just off the edge of the island.
I didn’t know how we’d fallen for this damn trick again. Something very similar had happened back in the Oriel of Earth, when Sylvain and I had climbed to the peak of a hill in search of a guardian, only to discover that we were standing right on top of it.
Satchel sped toward me, panting as he collided with my shoulder. “I should have known,” he said, his little chest heaving as he gasped for breath. “I’m so sorry, Locke.”
“Don’t apologize,” I said, teetering as I fought to keep my balance on the rocks. “We’ll just have to deal with — well, whatever the hell this island is supposed to be.”
The fissure that had split the land in two had actually spidered all across the island, cracking it in so many places. The last of the land mass crumbled and fell into the ocean, all of that earth simply a crust of dirt that had formed over a sleeping colossus.
My heart raced as my mind sped through the entries in Ermengarde’s books. In Greek mythology, legends told of giant sea creatures that could often be mistaken for islands. But this was not a turtle monster, nor was it some oversized fish.
Yeah. This was worse.
9
“Kraken!”I shouted.
Great tentacles surfaced from beneath the waves. An enormous, bulbous head reared out of the water, eyes huge and glassy, deep and menacing. Its tough, slimy hide glistened purplish-black, wet in the sunlight. The kraken emitted a screech from a beaked mouth filled with teeth as sharp as razors.
This guardian of water was one ugly mother.
Elemental guardians could appear in many guises, which always made tracking one down a gamble. We could have encountered a giant shark, an ancient whale, or a jellyfish the size of a football field. Krakens were definitely on the menu as well. I just wasn’t expecting this one to be so big and angry.
The water roiled and churned with the thrashing of its tentacles. The air smelled of salt, old rot, and death, this long-slumbering colossus awakening for its next meal. The kraken spun in a slow circle, and for a moment I feared it would attack by agitating the waters that way, creating its own whirlpool.
But malice and intelligence glimmered in its eyes as it scanned us from across the waves. This thing was deciding where to strike first, which one of us looked most vulnerable. I swallowed the jagged lump in my throat, praying the guardian wouldn’t settle on the easiest target: Sylvain, the only one who wasn’t standing on dry land.
In the end, the kraken went with the smartest choice.
All of us. Everywhere. All at once.
The kraken spun again, this time launching a barrage of wet black missiles in every direction. My first reaction was to suppress my gag reflex. So gross. The second was to whip out the Wilde grimoire, instilling it with my essence and using it as a shield.
Evander engaged his butterflies, surrounding himself in a cocoon of fluttering pink wings. He and Namirah had each picked their own crops of rock to perch on. Anything was safer than staying in the water. I could see Namirah’s thought process in how she shifted from a lion, then immediately into a hawk, selecting the best form for dealing with this particular threat.
Sylvain used what was left of the leaves still on his body to erect a shield. That left even fewer leaves for him to use as clothing, but better safe than sorry, and at least he had the shield to protect his modesty. Satchel had it easiest of all, zipping in and out of pocket dimensions, gracefully dodging every single one of the weird black projectiles.
“Gross,” he shouted, zipping back and forth. “What the hell are these things?”
The slimy black stuff kept coming, hitting us in bursts as the guardian found more and more of them to throw with its tentacles. Blood pulsed in my temples as I directed the Wilde grimoire around me, my will guiding it precisely where I pointed.
