Page 29 of The Demons in the Deep: Extended Edition
Kestra’s eyes burned into his. Rake couldn’t tell if she was happy or supremely furious.
And then Flay leaped up from the bed and threw both arms around Rake, a vicious one-handed grip that was almost painful. A flush of warmth traveled from Rake’s heart, spreading through his chest. Cautiously he closed one arm around Flay and patted his back. He wasn’t sure what to say, which was just as well. His throat felt too thick and prickly to force words through it anyway.
When Flay moved back, Kestra advanced. “Don’t ever do anything that stupid again, do you understand? Don’t you dare. Do you realize what it did to Jewel? To Mai?” She jabbed a finger toward her sleeping cousin. “To all of us?”
“I did it because—” Rake began, but Kestra cut in.
“I know why you did it.” Her voice hitched. “Don’t do such a thing ever again. You hear me?”
Rake let his mouth curve a little. “You scold like your mother.”
Kestra sucked in a breath. “How dare you.” But the shock in her eyes dissolved into sparkles, and she smiled back, tremulous and tearful.
They talked then, quietly because of the sleeping Mai. Rake gave them news of Kiken Island and told of his journey to Stragnoag. He mentioned finding Mai on the pier, but he didn’t say anything about the two men he’d killed. Not that he intended to hide it exactly, but Mai’s reaction hadn’t been favorable, and he didn’t want anything to sour his reunion with Flay and Kestra.
“Mai says you’re being forced into a competition,” he ended, with an inquiring glance at the captain.
“It’s true.” Flay threw himself backward onto the bed and hooked one knee over the other while he explained the situation in detail. Then he said, “Jaza insists he will serve as champion. Says the loss of his fingers won’t be a problem. I haven’t attended one of these Meridian Games in years, but I’ve heard about the champions my father’s captains bring to the arena. They always have something monstrous about them, something unique or terrifying. I heard Feral’s champion last year had retractable claws and ram’s horns. Feral won the Games, of course, as he usually does. It’s all about the fear factor, you see—terrifying your opponent before you destroy them. And Jaza… well, he may be strong, but he is just plain human, and a weary human at that. I fear for him. I’d do it myself, but captains can’t compete.”
“Thank the Mother Ocean,” Kestra said. “You’d die.”
“Your confidence in me is astounding, Blossom.”
“I agree with her,” Rake said. “You’re quick, and a good fighter, but if this competition is as fierce as you say, you wouldn’t have a chance. I’ve seen similar battles in the Realm Below, horrible bloody tournaments that ended with multiple bodies floating about, being chewed on by their own kind.” A shudder ran through his body at the memory. “Sometimes you could hardly see through the blood-cloud in the water.”
Flay sat bolt upright. “So you’ve seen battles? Duels to the death and such?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve fought in them?”
“No. Only the females were allowed to fight. Such training wasn’t permitted for males. We were for breeding purposes only.”
“Ah.” Flay’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded.
Rake was not yet an expert at reading human body language, but he understood that the captain was disappointed. He analyzed the last few sentences of their conversation, and realization sparked in his mind.
“But I have fought other creatures before,” he said. “As I mentioned, my journey here was perilous. I survived several battles against enemies much larger than myself.”
Flay’s head lifted, and his blue eyes met Rake’s. An understanding sparked through the air between them, one thought in both their minds.
Rake gave Flay a determined nod. “Captain, do I count as one of your crew?”
“Always,” Kestra said firmly.
Rake bent in a slight bow. “Then I would be honored to serve as champion for theWind’s Favor.”
“What?” Kestra gasped. “Are you out of your mind? What did I just say about not sacrificing yourself again?”
“My kind devoured humans for a century.” Rake held her gaze without flinching at her anger. He was all too familiar with it. “I owe humanity for that, and more specifically, I oweyou, Flay, and everyone on theWind’s Favor. Consider this a small repayment. Besides which, you know how I feel about slavery, Kestra. If I can spare Flay’s crew from being enslaved or participating in the slave trade themselves, I will.”
“But you just said you can’t fight!” she protested. “You have no training and very little experience. You’ll be killed instantly.”
“What if we trained him, though?” Flay’s eyes were alight with interest. “You have to admit, Blossom, he’s the scariest motherfisher I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to, except for the queen who bit off my hand.”
Rake had a momentary flash of Acrid’s face, fixed and bloody, sinking into the bottomless depths. His stomach heaved, and his gills flared open for a second. Vengeful and out of his mind with hatred, he’d taken a bite of her flesh, and at the memory he nearly gagged. By a monumental effort he regained control of himself.
“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard,” Kestra gasped. “You can’t. What about your belt, Rake? It’ll be smashed or damaged during the fight, and then what will you do, flopping around like a great helpless fish?”
