Page 30 of Heir of Autumn
Yet the island was otherwise paradise, with clean white sands and an attractive spread of tropical flora. If I had the time for it, I would have loved to admire more of the sights, especially the gorgeous greenish-blue lagoon that we somehow didn’t spot from the mouth of the cove.
The sheer beauty and serenity of the island was completely at odds with the total chaos erupting all around us. From the shoreline, kraken tentacles churned at the waters, throwing missiles much deadlier than the essence leeches. Maybe they ran out.
Random objects whistled through the air, chucked like boulders from catapults. This time the krakens fired at us blindly, tossing debris over the stony crags and the palm trees, hoping against hope that something would hit home. Very large rocks, broken shards of coral, hell, even a couple of coconuts.
Evander cursed as he dodged a rock that came too close to scuffing his precious shoes. “Now where is this confounded unicorn of yours, Locke?”
“Just follow the beam of light,” I shouted back, raising the grimoire in front of me, letting the sticker guide the way.
Except — that couldn’t be right. The rainbow was pointing into the lagoon. But the other unicorns did say their sister was more of an aquatic type, didn’t they? Just like I told the merfolk. A water horse.
We drew closer and closer, finding something at the end of the sticker’s rainbow at last. There it was at the center of the lagoon: a sphere of light in all the colors of the rainbow, the bands layering over and over like a multi-colored wicker ball. Unicorn magic.
The ball was as big as a car, certainly big enough to contain a magical four-legged creature. The fourth unicorn was definitely in there, cocooned in a protective spell of her own making. And more krakens were making their way into the lagoon, tentacles reaching eagerly for the ball. It was up to us to keep her safe.
I pointed at the rainbow sphere, then doubled over panting before I could speak a single word. My legs were burning. I needed to do more cardio, and to maybe stick to one slice on cheesecake nights at the Wispwood.
“The orb,” I gasped. “Protect the rainbow orb. That’s the unicorn.”
Evander yawned, summoning a cloud of butterflies to float him toward the lagoon. “Right, right. Defend the Pride orb, everybody. Chop-chop. Do it for gay rights.”
Gods, if I only had the energy to throttle him. But it did the trick for marshaling our troops. Namirah morphed into her lion form, pouncing toward the lagoon. Evander was well on his way. Satchel kept pace with me, all for the better until we figured out what the hell we were going to do once we hit the water. And Sylvain hung back, vengefully blowing a few more of his razor leaves at the krakens.
But where was Frederick?
“Locke,” Satchel shouted, flying just by my ear. “Look! Those assholes.”
I couldn’t say how many krakens had penetrated the lagoon based on all the tentacles slapping about, but there were certainly enough of them to play an incredibly insulting game of water polo with the rainbow ball. I could hear their gurgling, chortling laughter even from the surface. Unicorn magic be damned, no one had an infinite supply of arcane essence. That ball was only a shielding spell, and it was bound to go down at some point.
And then the earsplitting cry of a bird of prey cracked through the air. Frederick dove from the clouds, seemingly out of nowhere, aiming a professional-level kick at the ball.
Nowhere in all of my needlessly extensive Wispwood education was I taught about the merits of recruiting an eidolon with World Cup-worthy legs, but I found one. And he just happened to be an elemental guardian, too. Sick.
The ball bounced onto dry land, just in time for Namirah to intercept it, bound to its opposite side, then roll it further up the shore. She transformed back into a human, pushing and straining with both arms.
“Anyone want to help me with this?” she yelled.
I ran harder, as if my legs needed more reasons to scream at me. Before I even reached her, a squawk came from the water.
My heart clenched. Oh no. Frederick. He’d been caught by one of the krakens, legs wrapped in one tentacle, torso wrapped in another. One solid pull and he’d be a goner.
I reached out with my hand, imposing my will upon his physical form, forcibly dissolving it. The tentacles tightened around thin air, no more harpy left for them to pull apart like saltwater taffy. Loose feathers fell into the water. From deep within the lagoon, a kraken burbled with anger.
Good. Frederick was safe. I heaved a sigh of relief. I knew that I could summon him again later with the Breath of the Wind lodged in my medallion, even if the kraken appeared to kill him. Still, better to spare a friend the pain of death. I couldn’t name a single grand summoner who would willingly expose their eidolons to physical pain.
Well, except maybe Father.
Sylvain had finally caught up with the rest of us, summoning a sword of leaves into his grip, prepared to fight off the tentacles still struggling to harass the rainbow sphere. Evander cackled maniacally as he sent more and more of his butterflies into the water, every collision with a kraken creating a violent explosion of blood, froth, and severed tentacle chunks.
And Namirah kept on pushing.
I held the Wilde grimoire aloft, attempting a grand summoning. We needed to hold the perimeter, keep all the krakens in the bay, er, at bay. I swallowed hard, sensing that I didn’t have enough arcane essence to call on another guardian. Instead, in a single conjuration, I summoned all my minor eidolons.
Little portals popped open all around me as the eidolons arrived. I used what was left of my essence to infuse them with additional power, strengthening all their pointy edges. The doves exploded into existence, deft enough to both avoid the tentacles and peck and scratch at them with their empowered, steely-sharp beaks and talons.
Old Man emitted a bloodcurdling howl as he stepped out onto the sand, a senior citizen by wolf standards, but woe unto any kraken that came within reach of his snapping, slavering jaws. A tentacle wandered too close. Old Man clenched his jaws. The tentacle came away as a bloody stump. Somewhere in the cove’s waters, a kraken shrieked in pain.
And Scruffles — well, any tentacle that managed to reach him unscathed deserved the dubious honor. Scruffles did what Scruffles did best, transforming into a hissing, spitting orange tornado, a mobile wall of claws and furry death. The tentacles gave him a wide berth, like even they knew better than to mess with an unhinged feral cat.
