Page 4 of Tempting Triton
Blinding pain forces me awake, and I choke on a mouthful of salty water before heaving, spitting a mouthful of bile and ocean out. My wrists are tender, and my head pounds, vision blurry as I achingly pry each eyelid open. I wipe my mouth before realizing my restraints snapped at some point in the commotion. If there’s one thing to be grateful for, it’s that at least. My already tender ankle is on fire, pinned between the steel wall and a large rock that has pierced the corner of the container. I whimper, wiggling my toes, relieved that I can still feel them. I add that to my list of things to be grateful for as well. The more positive things I can focus on, the better, because I feel awful, sick, and sorry for myself.
Water laps above my thighs, and I take stock of everyone else. Well, everyone else that’s left, because the container has been wrenched in half, leaving a gaping hole in one end that looks out to a seeminglydeserted beach. I fight the dizziness, eyes locking onto a woman on her back, water lapping at her sides, her olive skin turned a sallow shade, lips a purple hue. My heart stops. Is she… dead? I don’t want to think about it, but it’s too late. The gruesome thought has burrowed its way into my brain.
“Help!” I yell, my throat stinging from the salty water I coughed up. My voice breaks.
“Help!” I croak. I wait a minute, but no one comes, so I lean as far as I can, hissing when my ankle rubs against the jagged edges of the rock, and grab the woman’s bicep. I drag her to me, grunting at the effort, wet clothes and water-logged sand working against me. Her skin feels cold beneath my hands, and I send out a little prayer to please, please, don’t let her be dead. I cradle her head in my lap and feel her pulse at her neck, letting out a sigh of relief. It’s faint, but it’s there. I spend some time rubbing her limbs to get some warmth back into them, as futile as it might be. The water surrounding us is slowly rising, signifying the tide must be on its way in.
Nausea lingers like a foggy cloud over my brain, symptoms of a potential concussion from smacking my head on the container. Considering our situation, I can only assume it fell offthe ship. That’s either lucky for us or incredibly unlucky, depending on where in the world we are. Surely, we can’t be too far from home, but I guess we’ll never know how long we were all out for. It could have been days.
Gulls caw in the distance, but all else is quiet. I hope Morgan is okay, and the others, too. I hope someone will see the wreckage and come exploring. I curse being pinned here and unable to go and see where we are or check on the others. The water lapping lazily around my waist is freezing against my bare skin. Only time will tell how deep it will get. I pull the unconscious woman a little higher.
Time seems to trickle past, the shadows moving inch by inch as the water around us deepens and cools within the shade of the container. Shivers wrack the other woman’s still unconscious body; my own limbs are tired and aching from trying to rub some warmth into her. My tongue feels like sandpaper in my mouth, saltwater and bile making me desperate for something to drink. I heft the woman up, so her head is balanced on my shoulder, her faint breathing tickling my nose. The rising water helps to bear some of her weight, but my shoulder aches in protest, not recovered from being restrained for who knows how long.
I begin to drift in and out of sleep. Adrenaline is wearing off, and the lingering effects of my concussion are making me so damn tired that I struggle to keep my eyes open. With only my thoughts, the sound of my newfound friend faintly breathing in my ear, and the gulls to break up the silence, I almost think I’m hallucinating when I hear someone calling out.
“Hello, is everyone okay?”
“Help!” My voice wavers within the container, my throat raw and aching.
“Hang on, I’m coming!”
Relief floods my body. Finally, a rescue party. A figure appears at the entrance, the sunlight outside casting their body in shadows until they step within the container. Morgan!
“Elena! You’re okay!”
“Hardly. My foot was pinned between the wall and the rock when it pierced the container. I can’t move it. This one”—I gesture to the woman on my shoulder—“was unconscious when the water started coming in. I don’t think I can keep her head above the water for much longer.” I grunt as she rushes towards me, water soaking her dress, causing it to clingto her legs.
“Here.” Morgan grabs the woman under her arms and hefts her off me.
I groan, my abused shoulder burning with relief after having the weight removed.
“I’ll be back.” Morgan gets straight to work, dragging the woman towards the exit and out onto the beach. “I’ll find something I can use to get your leg free,” she says over her shoulder.
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.” I grimace. I don’t want her to leave me, and it feels pathetic to think about it. I’m a strong, independent woman. I’m sure I can sit here a little longer. But still, the whooshing of the waves outside does nothing to quell my nerves. The water doesn’t calm me like it used to, and I don’t know if it ever will again.
I shift uncomfortably, my ass going numb from being trapped in one position. A stinging burn blooms around my ankle as I aggravate it with my movements. I hiss, slamming my head back into the wall with a groan. I desperately hope it doesn’t get infected from being submerged for so long. Hunger and thirst twist at my empty stomach, my throat and tongue are dry and scratchy.Would it be too much to hope Morgan also finds food, and fresh water, and you know, people to help us?
With nothing better to do, I rest my head again and close my eyes. All I can do is wait for Morgan to come back.
4
Triton
Cool water caresses my skin as I lazily propel myself through the water. The conch clasped around my neck thumps against my breastbone with the current, matching the steady rhythm of my heart. Warm sunlight filters beneath the surface, streams of light flashing against the scales of the fish who dart past with flickers of silver.
A shadow looms in the darkness below me, its pace matching mine as I swim closer to the reef that borders Aeolia. The muscles in my thick tail tense, preparing for a strike I know is surely coming. Just as predicted, the shadow lurches toward me, a short, rounded nose rising from the deep, a dorsal fin cutting through the current with ease. I flip backwards, tail over head, to position myself behind the creature, wrapping my arms around its rubbery grey body as it appears where I once was.
“Ha! Gotcha!” I grin, pushing Ichó away playfully. “You will have to try harder than that to sneak up on a demigod of the sea, you silly cetacean!”
Ichó clicks at me in joy, almost like a laugh, before spinning and flapping his tail at me, the force pushing me back.
“Hey! That is cheating!” I push myself forward against the current, eager to catch up to the Bottlenose dolphin. “Last one there is a rotten oyster!” I laugh, overtaking him.
We near the reef, a sea of pinks and yellows sprouting from the rocks, a rainbow of color beneath the water. Reef fish dart between softly swaying fronds, showing no concern or reaction to the major disturbance I felt this morning when Charybdis stirred from her slumber, the current dragging towards her open maw to devour all that was trapped inside it.
It has been a millennium since I last felt the intense tug of her current. She has slept soundly all this time, which means something is not right. Something has awoken her and caused her wrath. Longing gnaws at my bones, the exact reason I am out here now, checking the barrier that surrounds Aeolia. Only one thing could have awoken the beast, and that is if the barrier had been breached for thefirst time since its erection. Is it finally weakening? Could my family finally come home?
I purse my lips at the thought. I have become lax in checking the barrier over the years, loneliness an ever-constant thing that has chipped away at any hope I have had of seeing my kin again. I curse myself now, knowing if Charybdis has awoken, then I have potentially missed something important by not being out here often enough.
