Page 31 of Hot Summer's Prey

“You were so productive this time,” she coos. “And look at the colors. How many souls did you seduce?”

I shrug, feeling empty and withered without the magic inside me anymore. “I lost track.”

Usually I would reserve what I could for myself, but I am determined to get the garden back to its former glory as soon as possible. If I’m lucky, it won’t be too late to pursue Teresa.

The witch gathers some of the pearls, placing them in front of her in a design that means something only to her. She puts the majority of the pearls into one of her vessels for later—that much is her payment, that is clear. The design in front of her shines bright as she sings a haunting melody. Between each of the pearls reach out tendrils of light so beautiful I can’t look away. Each time, though terrifying, her magic is beautiful.

It feels almost as if the water drains from below me. I fight the panic that urges me to swim. My first time bringing an offering to the witch, I learned that it is just a feeling. Sometimes it feels as if she is the ocean, with how much of it she can control by her whims.

When the spell is done, it is abrupt. A return to the darkness, to the quiet sparkle of water in my eardrums. I feel drained.

“Well, there. The infrastructure is back in order,” she breathes.

As she finishes, she stretches out, gives her hips a little shake.

“Off you go again, I have more important things to attend to,” she grunts at me.

“The infrastructure—but what about the life forms? Are they still spelled under your protection?” The worry in my voice is clear.

She waves me off instead of answering. “You want more done? Bring me more magic.”

My claws threaten to slice through her enormous body, but I hold myself back. Better to see the damage for myself.

When I make it back to the grotto that houses my garden, a sigh of relief rushes through me to no longer see it broken and damaged. At the very least, whatever plants and creatures I find from here on out will have a home. I brush my hand along the entrance, surprised at the magic’s intensity—so much stronger than it was before. The Witch normally does not offer such things without trading for them. But I will not complain. No, because of her generosity, my friends will endure any cataclysm now.

I swim inside, grimacing at the decay. Many of the plants have wilted, some given way to rot. I try not to cry—some of these plants have taken years to restore from the damages of the humans while others are so rare that if I cannot replenish them, they’ll no longer exist.

A few of the other nudibranchs look malnourished and slower than usual. I check in with each, try to assess how best to care for them. The jellyfish swirl at the height of the grotto, glowing like lanterns to illuminate the rest. At least they are fine. I try not to think about what they must have eaten to stay healthy. I’d begrudge no creature for trying to stay alive.

As soon as I have finished with the nudibranchs, I pull out what rot I can from the plants, brush the decay from those that still live and find what I need to incubate. There is so much work to be done—work that would be much faster with the witch’s magic—but it is not impossible. These beings will only live if I act quickly, not if I stomp around on the surface seducing another handful of humans for a meager trade. Not that the reinstatement of the cave wasn’t necessary.

“No more new friends for me,” Aka sighs as I clear out the last of the dead.

I jump. Whenever there is rot and death, our ghostly friend will appear—in search of companionship. He is barely identifiable—a thin outline of a vaguely human shape, at least on top.

“You would have them all die,” I scoff.

“Hardly. But there is a new friend waiting for me on the surface. I’ve been watching her, screaming her little lungs out, calling for help. But the humans are asleep. So soon, she shall meet her death.”

“It will be good for you to have a companion,” I huff. “If you don’t scare this one off too.”

“I’m not the problem—they are. I can’t help what became of me,” he grumbles.

Despite myself, I look to his lower half, fused with a shark. The one companion that will never leave him.

“She is beautiful,” he admits. “Long black hair, a sturdy, curvy body that is nearly big enough for me. And birth marks on the back of her legs—”

“What do you know of her body?” I growl, suddenly fearful that he speaks of Teresa. “Of her spirit? Where did she come from?”

“The house on the cliff,” Aka says without emotion. “If those humans aren’t careful, I’ll have a companion very soon.”

With another growl, I leave the grotto in a panic, with no mind to the state I’ve left it in. If the human he describes is Teresa, I’m about to lose her before I’ve ever had her. And if it’s not—well, it’s nice to save a life every once in a while. Usually Kalixto is the one going around saving people from near-death experiences. Guess it’s my turn.

But one more thing pulses in my mind—the idea that she will be Aka’s companion if I am not fast enough.

No, Teresa is mine.

14

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