Tempest Unleashed
Page 61
Australia was about a forty-hour swim from where we currently were—and that’s if we traveled full speed the entire time. Unfortunately, neither of us had slept in close to twenty-four hours and the last thing I’d had to eat were the pancakes I’d made Moku for breakfast back on land.
We needed food, needed to rest, but it wasn’t like the ocean had an all-you-can-eat buffet on every corner. Which meant I was either going to have to get over my squeamishness about killing a fish for food (sushi, anyone?) or we needed to find a sea-vegetable patch pretty quickly.
I was totally pulling for the latter.
Mahina, who was going through a vegetarian phase, was also on board with that plan, so as we swam we kept our eyes peeled for anything that might look like food. Closer to Coral Straits, we had huge fields of crops, but out this far it was pretty much every creature for itself.
I reminded myself I had more important things to worry about than the rumbling in my stomach. In less than forty-eight hours I would be going up against Tiamat, and this time, there would be no element of surprise on my part. She was expecting me and sure to be armed with Sabyn and a bunch of her other loyal subjects—including a sea monster or two.
Does it surprise you? I asked Mahina abruptly. That Sabyn turned traitor? I was thinking of all of Kona’s warnings, of the way we’d fought over his concern for me. Knowing what I did now, I felt like such a fool. Why had I given Kona such a hard time?
I don’t know. I always got a creepy vibe from him, even when I was admiring his fine form, but I figured that was just because of the stories. Did I think he would sell us out to Tiamat? Not a chance.
I’m an idiot. I let him train me, even when it drove Kona around the bend. But, except for the first day when it seemed like he was trying to kill me—
Which he probably was.
Yeah, I know that now. Except for that, he wasn’t a bad trainer. He didn’t teach me any offensive stuff, but he taught me stuff about defense I’d had no idea about.
Yeah, probably so he’d know how to get around you later.
I sighed. Yeah. Probably.
I ran a hand over my face, tried to ignore the bone-deep weariness that was invading my every cell. How was I going to save Kona? If it was just a matter of trading myself for him, I would do it in a heartbeat. He was so much more important to life down here than I was and besides, the idea of saving myself at his expense made me literally sick to my stomach.
But it wouldn’t be that easy. My brain flashed back to the last time Tiamat and I had squared off in a major battle. I had tried to outthink her then, had attempted to figure out what she had planned—for me and my mother. I’d failed, and my mother had been killed. I couldn’t handle the idea of failing again, of losing Kona the same way I’d lost Cecily.
Was I strong enough for this? I knew I didn’t have a choice—I was doing it. But was I really strong enough to take Tiamat on or was I just fooling myself? Was I leading Mahina into a slaughter?
Thank God I knew not to rely on anything Sabyn had taught me, but I still felt like those sessions with him left me vulnerable. He knew how I moved, how I thought, my favorite means of attack. Nothing quite like parading your weaknesses out in front of the enemy for him to scrutinize …
And thank God for Kona, who had warned me over and over again not to trust Sabyn. Not to mention the warning deep inside that had kept me from showing him the strongest of my powers. The fact that he didn’t know about the electricity thing might be the only advantage I had in this whole mess. Because while Sabyn might have learned my attack patterns, I’d also learned his.
Tempest, look! Mahina pointed toward the ocean floor and then suddenly dived deep. Not sure what she’d spotted, but knowing her eyesight was better than mine due to all the years I’d spent on land, I followed her without question.
And nearly wept with joy when I realized she had found an undersea garden. After paying the admittance price—which ended up being one of the pearls I’d pulled out of my mother’s cave hours earlier—we raided the garden mercilessly.
As we ate, and rested our exhausted tails, I thought about all the things I didn’t know about Tiamat, all the things I didn’t know about life in the ocean overall. Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, risking everything in a fight that didn’t have to be mine. But at the same time, I couldn’t ignore what had happened to my mother. Couldn’t ignore what had happened to all those selkies and merpeople. Or what was happening to Kona right now.
Taking on Tiamat might not be the smart thing to do, but it was the right thing. As long as she was around, no one would be safe.
So, I said to Mahina as casually as I could, what am I going to be dealing with here?
She paused, a bunch of sea lettuce halfway to her mouth. With Tiamat?
No, with the climate in Australia. It was my turn to roll my eyes. Of course with Tiamat. I’ve already met the Lusca, I said, referring to the huge sea-monster thing that had ripped my mother apart almost a year ago. But what other creatures does she have lying in wait?
I’m not really sure. Mahina thought for a minute. There are stories, of course, but nothing that I know for certain to be fact. A lot of them are just mythology, after all.
I refrained from mentioning that both Tiamat and the Lusca were considered mythological creatures—and therefore fake—by most of the world. The fact that we knew the truth didn’t make their existence any more believable to most of the population.
I still want to know, even if they are fake. Better to be prepared.
Well, it’s not like I have a lot of up-close-and-personal knowledge of Tiamat, but I can tell you what I’ve heard, Mahina began reluctantly. The Lusca is usually never far from her—you saw that. But she has other creatures that work for her as well. The shark-men, the bunyip, Ceto and Scylla, and, of course, the Leviathan.
She looked at me expectantly, but I couldn’t respond. It was like everything she said after shark-men was in Greek. What’s the Leviathan? I asked. They called whales leviathans, so maybe she had a huge whale that did her bidding? But how menacing could a whale be? Most of them ate plankton, for God’s sake.
The Leviathan is a sea monster, kind of like the Lusca. But it’s more of a dragon. He’s the most powerful creature in the ocean, or so everyone says.
Terrific. I blew out a long breath. And the rest of those things you mentioned?
She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. They’re also sea monsters. Ceto is pretty much chaos personified—her favorite pastime is sinking ships and bringing down planes that come too close to her lair.
Where’s her lair? I asked warily.
It’s in the Atlantic—between Bermuda and Puerto Rico.
I choked on a piece of dulse. You mean, the Bermuda Triangle?
I don’t think it’s actually a triangle, Mahina answered. More like a rectangle. Why?
I started to explain about the myths and lore associated with that part of the ocean, but decided it could wait for another day. I had more important things to do right now.
As we ate, I continued to question her about Tiamat’s allies. Scylla, it turned out, was another kind of sea creature—the only one left of her kind. When in her natural form, she had two snakelike heads and the power to create whirlpools and sinkholes wherever she was. Like Tiamat, she could transform into mer form with magic and the blood of mermaids.
We needed food, needed to rest, but it wasn’t like the ocean had an all-you-can-eat buffet on every corner. Which meant I was either going to have to get over my squeamishness about killing a fish for food (sushi, anyone?) or we needed to find a sea-vegetable patch pretty quickly.
I was totally pulling for the latter.
Mahina, who was going through a vegetarian phase, was also on board with that plan, so as we swam we kept our eyes peeled for anything that might look like food. Closer to Coral Straits, we had huge fields of crops, but out this far it was pretty much every creature for itself.
I reminded myself I had more important things to worry about than the rumbling in my stomach. In less than forty-eight hours I would be going up against Tiamat, and this time, there would be no element of surprise on my part. She was expecting me and sure to be armed with Sabyn and a bunch of her other loyal subjects—including a sea monster or two.
Does it surprise you? I asked Mahina abruptly. That Sabyn turned traitor? I was thinking of all of Kona’s warnings, of the way we’d fought over his concern for me. Knowing what I did now, I felt like such a fool. Why had I given Kona such a hard time?
I don’t know. I always got a creepy vibe from him, even when I was admiring his fine form, but I figured that was just because of the stories. Did I think he would sell us out to Tiamat? Not a chance.
I’m an idiot. I let him train me, even when it drove Kona around the bend. But, except for the first day when it seemed like he was trying to kill me—
Which he probably was.
Yeah, I know that now. Except for that, he wasn’t a bad trainer. He didn’t teach me any offensive stuff, but he taught me stuff about defense I’d had no idea about.
Yeah, probably so he’d know how to get around you later.
I sighed. Yeah. Probably.
I ran a hand over my face, tried to ignore the bone-deep weariness that was invading my every cell. How was I going to save Kona? If it was just a matter of trading myself for him, I would do it in a heartbeat. He was so much more important to life down here than I was and besides, the idea of saving myself at his expense made me literally sick to my stomach.
But it wouldn’t be that easy. My brain flashed back to the last time Tiamat and I had squared off in a major battle. I had tried to outthink her then, had attempted to figure out what she had planned—for me and my mother. I’d failed, and my mother had been killed. I couldn’t handle the idea of failing again, of losing Kona the same way I’d lost Cecily.
Was I strong enough for this? I knew I didn’t have a choice—I was doing it. But was I really strong enough to take Tiamat on or was I just fooling myself? Was I leading Mahina into a slaughter?
Thank God I knew not to rely on anything Sabyn had taught me, but I still felt like those sessions with him left me vulnerable. He knew how I moved, how I thought, my favorite means of attack. Nothing quite like parading your weaknesses out in front of the enemy for him to scrutinize …
And thank God for Kona, who had warned me over and over again not to trust Sabyn. Not to mention the warning deep inside that had kept me from showing him the strongest of my powers. The fact that he didn’t know about the electricity thing might be the only advantage I had in this whole mess. Because while Sabyn might have learned my attack patterns, I’d also learned his.
Tempest, look! Mahina pointed toward the ocean floor and then suddenly dived deep. Not sure what she’d spotted, but knowing her eyesight was better than mine due to all the years I’d spent on land, I followed her without question.
And nearly wept with joy when I realized she had found an undersea garden. After paying the admittance price—which ended up being one of the pearls I’d pulled out of my mother’s cave hours earlier—we raided the garden mercilessly.
As we ate, and rested our exhausted tails, I thought about all the things I didn’t know about Tiamat, all the things I didn’t know about life in the ocean overall. Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, risking everything in a fight that didn’t have to be mine. But at the same time, I couldn’t ignore what had happened to my mother. Couldn’t ignore what had happened to all those selkies and merpeople. Or what was happening to Kona right now.
Taking on Tiamat might not be the smart thing to do, but it was the right thing. As long as she was around, no one would be safe.
So, I said to Mahina as casually as I could, what am I going to be dealing with here?
She paused, a bunch of sea lettuce halfway to her mouth. With Tiamat?
No, with the climate in Australia. It was my turn to roll my eyes. Of course with Tiamat. I’ve already met the Lusca, I said, referring to the huge sea-monster thing that had ripped my mother apart almost a year ago. But what other creatures does she have lying in wait?
I’m not really sure. Mahina thought for a minute. There are stories, of course, but nothing that I know for certain to be fact. A lot of them are just mythology, after all.
I refrained from mentioning that both Tiamat and the Lusca were considered mythological creatures—and therefore fake—by most of the world. The fact that we knew the truth didn’t make their existence any more believable to most of the population.
I still want to know, even if they are fake. Better to be prepared.
Well, it’s not like I have a lot of up-close-and-personal knowledge of Tiamat, but I can tell you what I’ve heard, Mahina began reluctantly. The Lusca is usually never far from her—you saw that. But she has other creatures that work for her as well. The shark-men, the bunyip, Ceto and Scylla, and, of course, the Leviathan.
She looked at me expectantly, but I couldn’t respond. It was like everything she said after shark-men was in Greek. What’s the Leviathan? I asked. They called whales leviathans, so maybe she had a huge whale that did her bidding? But how menacing could a whale be? Most of them ate plankton, for God’s sake.
The Leviathan is a sea monster, kind of like the Lusca. But it’s more of a dragon. He’s the most powerful creature in the ocean, or so everyone says.
Terrific. I blew out a long breath. And the rest of those things you mentioned?
She sighed, ran a hand through her hair. They’re also sea monsters. Ceto is pretty much chaos personified—her favorite pastime is sinking ships and bringing down planes that come too close to her lair.
Where’s her lair? I asked warily.
It’s in the Atlantic—between Bermuda and Puerto Rico.
I choked on a piece of dulse. You mean, the Bermuda Triangle?
I don’t think it’s actually a triangle, Mahina answered. More like a rectangle. Why?
I started to explain about the myths and lore associated with that part of the ocean, but decided it could wait for another day. I had more important things to do right now.
As we ate, I continued to question her about Tiamat’s allies. Scylla, it turned out, was another kind of sea creature—the only one left of her kind. When in her natural form, she had two snakelike heads and the power to create whirlpools and sinkholes wherever she was. Like Tiamat, she could transform into mer form with magic and the blood of mermaids.
