Page 31 of Heir of Autumn
Even Satchel was giving his best, bless him, darting in and out of the fight with his needle. I could barely follow where he was zipping, but with a few well-placed stitches, he singlehandedly entangled at least half a dozen tentacles.
“Brilliant work!” I shouted, spurring everyone on.
We just needed to tip the scales further in our favor. An attack, possibly using every leaf on the island. Maybe that would beat away the krakens. I turned to search for Sylvain, my stomach dropping to my shoes when I found him out in the water, hoisted up by a tentacle. He slashed and slashed, drawing blood and angry shrieks from his captor, but the kraken wouldn’t let go.
“Sylvain,” I screamed. “No!”
He turned his head toward me, his mouth opening wide to answer, his eyes even wider in horror.
Somehow I hadn’t noticed the tentacle slithering up behind me.
Too late. A single tug and I was in the water, fingers digging into sand, carving deep furrows. The Wilde grimoire fell from my grip, useless on the shore. I cried out for help but tasted only salt. Another strong, smooth tug, and my head was under the waves. Everyone except Sylvain was too busy fighting their own fights to notice. I couldn’t blame them.
I thrust my hand for the surface, but still the tentacle dragged me down, its grip crushing tight around my ankle. Instinct sent my hand toward my throat, my brain reminding myself that I could still breathe.
But could I? My fingers felt at my neck and found nothing. In a flash of panic and clarity, I understood. The medallion was no longer attached to my body. The Breath of the Wind and the spell I’d worked so hard to acquire, both useless. I glanced down, seeing the glimmer of gold tangled around a bit of coral, so morbidly out of reach.
The stream of bubbles and breath that gurgled past my lips thundered and drummed in my ears. I thought I heard whale song, mournful and low. I couldn’t decide if it came from within the water, or far above us, from one of those things that swam across the sky.
I looked up, wishing I could have told my friends goodbye. How much air did I have left? I looked up, wishing I could catch one last glimpse of Sylvain.
No. Not like this.
My dagger. If I reached far enough, I could stab the tentacle, force the guardian to release me. I clenched my teeth, praying that I had enough breath and strength left to fight.
Something plunged past the surface, diving with breathtaking speed. It rushed past me in a streak, leaving a trail of bubbles as it swam deeper, lower, heading straight for my amulet.
“Satchel,” I said, like a fool, like he could hear me, my own familiar come to save the day.
The tentacle wrenched even harder around my ankle, as if responding, punishing. Gods, something must have broken that time. The pain shot through my body like lightning. I couldn’t stop myself from crying out loud.
And then, by accident, I breathed in.
I clutched at my neck, kicking and writhing, struggling harder to free myself knowing that I’d let go of the last of my air, swallowed water. But nothing. No agonizing, suffocating lungfuls of seawater, no signs of drowning.
My shock numbed me from the pain in my ankle for a moment, the simple delight of breathing like the greatest luxury. How? The amulet was —
Never mind that. The amulet was in Satchel’s hands now, his cheeks puffed full of air as he used his wings as rudders, the smallest savior, my four-inch hero. Though again — was he? I could breathe the water as easily as I breathed the air, even with my medallion caught on the coral.
But it was here now, Satchel’s eyes huge with excitement and terror as he thrust the medallion into my hand. The sensation of the breathing spell tingled over my skin like warm, tiny needles, no pain, only a sudden mild sting.
So what was it that allowed me to breathe normally just moments before?
No time to question, no time to think. Satchel pounded his tiny fists on my chest, calling my attention to the guardian still trying to drag me to my watery doom. I gritted my teeth as I unsheathed my dagger, stomach muscles clenching when I bent in half to reach further below. I stabbed.
And I stabbed and I stabbed and stabbed again, dark blood wafting in clouds through the water. A pixie-shaped silhouette shimmered near the tentacle, blinking in and out of existence, Satchel contributing his own needle to the cause. Another flash of metal, something like scissors. Oh-ho. He’d whipped out the tailoring shears. The guardian was in real trouble, now.
The tentacle released me, suckers unsuckering from my flesh as a burbling shriek rose from the depths. I kicked hard and swam up to safety, making sure to flip the guardian the bird. Satchel, ever faithful, ever my friend, showed the guardian both his middle fingers as his wings paddled him up toward the surface.
Strong hands pulled me out of the water. I fell into Sylvain’s arms, choking a sob of relief against his shoulder, glad that he’d escaped his own tentacle unmolested. His grip tightened around me, his face stony with anger, his heart thumping, straining through his chest.
“We must end this,” he muttered. “Now.”
“Agreed,” I said, my mood darkening to match his. “You can put the leaves back later, can’t you? Pluck the island bald.”
He lifted his hand into the air, then clenched his fist. Every tree, every bush on the island shuddered, responding to his call. From afar, it might have looked like a murmuration of birds, the awe-inspiring swirl and tumble of shapes that rose from the trees.
In truth it was a hail of razors, each one bending to Sylvain’s will. I poured the last of my essence through my hand, into his chest. The brewing storm pulsed once, glowing silvery-gold with magic.Ourmagic. The wind rushed as hundreds, thousands of leaves dove for the water.
