Page 71 of Malicent
I will never be weak again.
Even in the dark, I will shine, I will not be lost; I hum her song under my breath—soft, fragile—an anchor as I finally take the next steps. The water climbs up my shins. My knees. Then my thighs. It’s cold, each inch a new punishment. When it reaches my shoulders, I shudder violently. My teeth chatter and my breath forms broken clouds before me.
I stop. Centered—alone—in the moon’s reflection. Silver above. Silver below. Then, something enters, and there’s a shift in the air.
The lake ripples as something massive slips into the water from across the chamber. A distant splash, and a wave rolls outward, pushing water to my chin. I sway off-balance, bracing as the lake divides.
Something is swimming toward me. It’s enormous. Its silhouette, a black shadow, moves with fluid grace. It is too smooth. Too purposeful. My night vision sharpens, but the creature remains veiled in the shifting darkness.
Too far to see. Yet far too close.
“You are rare, Millicent,” Nora calls from the shore. “Your vessel can hold such power—but more than that…you are a lamb.”
Terror rips through me. My chest tightens. My fingers curl beneath the surface forming fists that break the mirrored moonlight.
“A lamb who will turn into a wolf. That does not happen in nature. You will be the first.”
I hear footsteps behind me. Nora is leaving. Her steps fade. She does not stay.
She never meant to.
When she walks away from me, my voice fractures as I whisper, “Nora…”
She doesn’t respond.
The door groans closed, and the iron seals with a final, echoingclang.
And I am alone.
The mass slides into the moonlight, its form shifting like smoke in a storm of shadows. My eyes widen. It’s closer than it should be, but it vanishes before it can get too close.
My breath hitches. Panic claws at my lungs. I start breathing too fast—shallow breaths—too sharp and useless.
I can’t breathe.
No.That’s not true. I am breathing.
My head snaps left and right, searching. The surface has gone eerily still, undisturbed like nothing was ever there.
Then…bubbles. I see a few at first and then more.
My mouth goes dry. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
The bubbles stop.
Silence.
What game is this thing playing?
It strikes.
Within seconds of thought, long pale limbs explode from the depths behind me. The hands are inhuman—elongated and skeletal—with fingers tipped in jagged, hook-like claws. When they slap down onto my shoulders, one wraps around my neck, and the other clamps over my mouth.
I scream into its palm, but the sound is swallowed by water.
The thing yanks me backward with terrifying force. It drags me down deeper and deeper beneath the surface.
Water closes over my head.
