Page 45 of Curse the Fae

The beasts collide. Their bodies slam together, the wet slap of limbs and crunch of bones earsplitting.

Curled against the wall, I grip my weapon and stare in abject horror. Water lashes the air, and muck splatters the walls as several fauna tangle together in a frenzy of tails and jaws and serrated growls. They snap, attempting to drown one another, to jolt each other into death rolls. One pair tumbles in place like logs, fighting for dominance, hurling wave after wave across the tunnels.

Another pair surges from an adjacent threshold and barrels into the skirmish. While rescuing animals with my family, I’ve never found myself at the crux of an assault between fauna, neither over territory nor prey.

I’ve been lucky. My family has been lucky.

I want the beasts to stop, but it’s not in their nature to stop. I’m torn between worry for the dolphin and these otherworldly animals tearing themselves to shreds.

My eyes jump from one end of the pool to the other. I peer through the quagmire, trying to find a route to the dolphin, but I can’t see an opening. Across the expanse, the dolphin scurries from left to right. I fail to interpret its cries because the cacophony is too overpowering, too deafening.

But I know it’s frightened. And I know it’s still trapped.

The only way out of here is to get past the crocodiles before one of them wins this combat. I can’t do anything to prevent a slaughter. All I can do is spare myself and my companion, Fables willing.

One of the crocodiles swings its tail in an arc that slams into the side of another, sending the latter beast careening into a wall. The animal smashes against the barrier but recovers quickly and propels itself back into the fray.

Just then, the ring of crocs fragments apart, as if detonated by a submerged source. I freeze. A massive alpha crocodile breaks from under The Deep, the reptile’s body having shifted to an unearthly size and inundating the cave.

The giant beast doesn’t go after its rivals. It swerves toward the dolphin.

I catapult into motion, flinging myself into the river. The pool catches me, and the noise recedes. My eyelids pop open beneath the river, threads of teal hair floating around my head. Clasping the spear in one hand, I pump my free limbs, shooting across the divide while the crocs are dazed and disoriented from the volcanic arrival of their new opponent.

The force of the battle shoves me about. My lungs are charred, and my pulse rockets into my throat. Immersed with countless spurts of red staining the water, it’s a nightmarish swim. I think of my family and the snake waiting for me in my chamber. Saving animals has always been a perilous risk, but I’ve never turned my back on a creature in need, and I never will.

I pump through the current, then loop upward and break the surface in front of my companion. I have no time to think as my body emerges. I suck in air and spin toward the colossal, incoming crocodile, then windmill my spear and thrust it against the reptile’s splayed mouth. The weapon’s angle catches the beast, the spear lodging between rows of teeth. My molars grind together, my joints spasm, and I cry out. The croc’s weight is heavy enough to crack my spine.

I hold fast. The animal growls in furious surprise and pushes against me. From behind, the dolphin flops around while releasing a series of frightened noises. The beast and I throw our weight against each other, but this shouldn’t be enough. I should have gone down in seconds.

By some miracle, I’m upright. Meanwhile, the bask of the crocodiles shred each other into green ribbons. The sound and stink of it are unreal. The reek of blood clogs my nostrils, guttural bellows grate through the atmosphere, and tidal waves smash into the walls.

My knees quaver with the effort to stay on my feet. This beast would be a force to reckon with at its normal size, but with its body swollen to behemoth proportions, this duel is an impossibility. It’s only a matter of time—minutes, seconds.

The dolphin dunks itself and propels in a circle around my waist, creating a ring that broadens and travels through the tunnel. After that, the male hides once more behind my back.

My memory retreats to those training sessions with my sisters in the creek—the maneuvers I taught them and the ones they taught me. I have one option and zero time to doubt it. I release the spear, drop into the water, and roll. The sudden yield shocks the crocodile into plunging beside me. In the depth, I take advantage of the momentary lapse and ram the spear’s tip into the cage of the assailant’s mouth. With another cry, I tilt the weapon upward and impale the beast’s upper mouth, striking deep enough to penetrate its skull.

The crocodile shudders and goes still. Right before it topples onto the river floor like a sunken ship, I pry the sphere from its maw and veer out of the way, then resurface with a gasp.

This is far from over. Half of the crocodiles have either retreated or float in dead heaps. However, two of them are hale and barreling toward me.

I don’t know how I’m still alive or where my fortitude came from. But then my eyes catch sight of the spear dripping with crimson.

The iron. The inlaid scrolls must have weakened that crocodile and enabled me to run it through.

The knowledge spikes me with adrenaline. With my chest heaving, I broaden my stance and spin the sphere over my head. Hunching, I wait for the onslaught.

The crocodiles bolt forward—then backward as a new wave blows from the depth and plows into them. In the spot where they’d been, Elixir erupts from the water like a geyser, rivulets racing down his torso, and his scales flinging rays of light across the cave. With his forked daggers clamped in his fingers, his pupils two wells of black, and half of his viper tail visible, the water lord resembles an avenging merman.

Ripples flow from the spot where the dolphin and I hover. From that faint signal alone, Elixir’s head snaps in our direction, and he determines our location. An emotion bordering on relief unlocks his jaw, which must be for the dolphin. He can’t be worried about me, apart from my place in the game.

I remember the dolphin sending tiny waves across the river. The animal must have sent a distress call to the river’s sovereign.

My gaze clings Elixir’s face, then strays to a spot behind him, where two figures leap into view. My lips split to holler a warning, but Elixir’s features warp from relief to fury. His countenance tightens, and his irises burn as he whips around to sling gilded beams from his eyes. The cast of light momentarily blinds the reptiles and launches them backward, but this only fuels their temper, and they charge again. Their hoarse bellows reverberate as they flank Elixir on either side.

I hesitate. This Fae can handle both foes; he doesn’t need my help, and if these beasts rip him asunder, it’s hardly my problem. Indeed, Elixir’s demise would be a blessing. This game would be over, and I would be free.

Yet another memory flickers in my psyche. Me, nine years-old and engulfed in another body of water. Me, trying desperately to stop a villain from escaping. Me, clutching him for as long as I can while his face bloats with immortal anger and raw, youthful fear.

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