Page 71 of Fate Promised

Al turned, one beady dark eye glinting as the bird seemed to size him up. Al cackled, then launched into the air.

“I think that’s a yes. Let’s go.” Before he could stop her, Triska dashed to the gate.

He swore and shot after her. “Wait, let me make sure it’s safe.”

She paused as she hit the beach. “There’s no sign of anyone. The same it’s been every morning.”

He stepped past the gate and joined her, Koschei at his heels. Nothing stood on the beach, not even Arrow, but his hackles rose. The air was more brackish than he’d ever scented before, unlike the salt spray off the ocean, more like the marshes of Ryba at low tide. Yet the winds weren’t coming from a new direction, they stirred off the water, as always.

He stepped closer to Triska and scanned down the beach. Al flew south, and from his explorations, Juri knew there were more of the towering reddish buttes bordering the water, with crullocks living in the crevices of the rock. Crullocks weren’t of much concern. They resembled crabs but were about the size of a mule, and only ate dead things.

“Stay between Koschei and me.” Juri let his claws extend.

29

Scanning the beach and the gray sky above her, Triska proceeded down to the sand. The water before her rolled in dull, slow laps onto the shore. As they’d settled into a routine living in the palace, she’d walked the short path out to the beach every day with Koschei and Arrow to catch fish for dinner or watch Arrow play in the waves. Not one creature had appeared. Not even birds pecking at the clumps of seaweed strewn along the tide line.

So why was Juri on the tips of his toes, his claws out a few inches as if ready to attack?

She surveyed the water. There was a flash of movement among the limpid waves. Was Arrow out there? She’d thought he was roaming around the front of the palace since Fergal was preparing breakfast, and he liked to make sure they knew he was nearby anytime they ate, but maybe he’d followed them.

The sand was a reddish hue, and from a distance, it appeared like a smear of dried blood, but up close, different hues of ocher and red wove together in layers, with tiny grains of clear sand that sparkled like diamonds when the bit of light overhead hit it right.

She was barefoot, and the sand was rougher than the sugar-like sand of Ryba but not as rock-filled as the shore of the vanishing isle. Her flowing pants skimmed the beach, and she hiked them up to her knees. Juri was so sure-footed she wasn’t about to trip and slow him down.

Chessa would know the era of the style they came from. The pants were baggy and loose—yet the tunic-style shirts nipped in at the waist. All Triska cared about was that they were dry and comfortable.

Koschei, on the other hand, always wore his guardian robes. Right now, he walked next to her, his blue cloak billowing behind him.

Water splashed. As she caught the motion from the corner of her eye, Juri snarled and whirled.

Standing knee deep in the water a few paces away, stood six … what? They had facial hair of dark tangled beards, the black hair striking against the algae-green hue of their skin. They didn’t wear much, only short trousers that didn’t reach their knees. The kind of thing children wore to school. They must be close to as tall as Juri, lean and wiry, with slits fluttering behind their ears.

Gills?

“Vodnik. Water demons,” Koschei muttered. Juri moved to stand in front of Triska.

Koschei opened his arms. “Are you here to speak with the guardian? He’s available.” His palms glowed purple.

The one in front cocked his head but didn’t seem alarmed at Koschei’s magic. Other than the skin color, he looked almost human, but his eyes were large, the iris dark and filling all the space. Cold, reptilian eyes. “The guardian left these lands a long time ago.” He tilted his head again, resembling a lizard eyeing a passerby. “I haven’t supped on non-fish flesh in a long time.” His gaze flicked to Triska, and he licked his lips. When he raised his hands, his fingers were webbed.

“Sorry but you won’t today either,” Juri said. In one surge, he leaped. They smashed together, the water turning frothy around them, but when Juri raked the demon’s throat, his claws skated over the demon’s skin as if they ran over rock, the vodnik barely reacting.

The vodnik punched, and Juri twisted, the blow glancing off his shoulder. Juri leaped out of the water for the creature, his muscles bunched and flexing, his claws slashing, but none of his blows did any damage. “Run back to the palace,” he shouted. “Get behind the gate.”

Icy panic gripped her chest. Leave Juri and run? Stay? She wanted to help, but what could she do? Her magic didn’t work down here.

She remained frozen for a beat, maybe two. Enough time for the rest of the vodnik to stop watching the fight and race toward the beach.

Koschei blasted one of them, but the demon shook it off and kept coming. A shadow flew overhead, and a large, red form landed in the water next to Koschei. She caught wide, leathery wings and golden horns before the red figure launched itself at a vodnik.

One of the remaining water demons slipped past the three fighters, aiming straight for Triska.

She turned and ran back toward the palace. The sand sucked her down, slowing her progress. She’d never run so slow. The harder she dug in, the slower it seemed she went. Icy, slippery hands grabbed her arm, yanking her backward. She screeched and scrabbled. A piece of shell stuck out of the sand, one side jagged, and she grabbed it.

She swung, and the shard of shell slashed across the creature’s throat, skimming the same way Juri’s claws had until she reached the gills. Here the flesh was unprotected, and her shell weapon snagged on the flap of flesh. She rammed her shell into its softer flesh as hard as she could.

The creature roared. His mouth opened to reveal small, triangular shark-like teeth. He grabbed her wrist, crushing the bones together and snatched her shell weapon. White-hot pain lanced up her arm, and she screamed. She kicked, catching the creature in the side of his knee.

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