Suddenly, my hand is grabbed in a tight grip, and I blink dumbly. Bringing myself back, I see Grimus holding my hand and watching me with an arched eyebrow. That’s when I realize the wolves are all dead and I was still swinging. “Oops.” I grin guiltily. A smile tugs at his lips before he cleans the blade and hands it back to me, even though I expected him to keep it.
Touched, I hold it close and look around at the cut up, dismembered bodies of the wolves.
“What was wrong with them?”
“Magic,” Grimus mutters, “corrupted them mid-shift. Being stuck between their animal side and their human side drives them mad.” He narrows his gaze on Bracken. “I didn’t need your help.”
“Sure, big guy,” he replies as he winks at me. “The blood will draw others soon. We should move.”
Despite his annoyance, Grimus agrees, and we hurry away from the scene. The taste of the fey still lingers on my lips, and I don’t hate it, which terrifies me.
* * *
Hours later,after stopping for a break, we reach Grimus’ destination—the shores he had told me about.
He was right—it’s empty here. The blackened grass suddenly turns into sand dunes and hills, and when I reach down to run my hand through the sand, it almost cuts into my skin, the grains hard like diamonds. I don’t touch it again as we trek along the dunes. My eyes go to the empty stretch of beach, forgotten like this whole land. There are remnants of houses and boats on the beach, with washed up wood and sails scattered across it all, but when I glance out at the churning black sea, what I see is even worse.
There’s a wooden sailboat out there, crashed up against a huge rock. The sails are broken and blowing in the wind, and the side is caved in as if something massive got out…or got in. I don’t look any closer at it. Instead, I focus on not falling as I trudge behind Grimus, but I can’t help but ask about it.
“What did that?” I inquire, jerking my thumb at the ship.
Grim follows my gaze and grunts. “You don’t want to know, little one. Trust me.”
He’s probably right, so I don’t ask again, but my eyes go to the water, wondering what monsters linger there that are big enough to rip boats apart.
We walk along the water for a while, the scenery rarely changing. More and more boats are broken across the ocean, clearly old human vessels, and for a moment, I can almost imagine what these lands used to be like before humans ruined it the way we ruin everything. Slumping in sadness, I look into the distance, across the rolling lands, and there, obscured by darkness, are the mountains we are heading to. They are too far to reach today or even tomorrow, so when Grimus finds an old fishing hut and suggests we set up camp, I almost drop to my knees in gratitude.
It’s a one-room hut, but it’s mostly still standing, and the roof is intact. Despite the lack of windows, it’s almost cozy. After eating the food Grimus feeds me, I watch as he and Bracken move to the water and quickly wash off. My eyes track the water on their bodies before I force myself to check on my foot, and when they return, I have my strange, new pervy instincts under control as we all hunker down to rest.
As quickly as they hit the ground, they are both asleep.
Not me.
I lie here, staring at the ceiling, too pumped up from everything that has happened. My hand lifts in the dark and traces my lips, remembering how that kiss felt. It was unlike anything I have ever experienced before, lighting me up from the inside out until I needed more.
Stupid, I know.
Dropping my hand in annoyance, I’m just about to flip over when I hear a strange noise. I sit bolt upright and peer into the darkness. I wait for the others to wake up, but they don’t. I wait to hear it again. It doesn’t take long for the sound to echo through the air for a second time. Hesitantly, I stand, my eyes going to the door that leads out to the beach. I’m not dumb, so I take my knife and stop at the door, peering through the cracks between the old wood, looking for what made that noise. I’m in full reach of my monster protectors, but then I hear it again, and something about it seems almost…pained.
I shoot them both a look to find them sleeping. They need their rest, especially with all the creatures they had to fight today, so I ease the small door open and take a step out. When the sound comes again, just as pained as before, I march out onto the sand, trying to appear threatening as I wander along the shore in search of what made the noise.
Grim said no monsters ever dared to come here, so I should be safe, right?
The noise comes again, and my head jerks around in search of it until I face the dark water. It’s coming from those waves, and despite the fact that my heart pounds in fear and I know how stupid it is, I take a step forward. I find my hand convulsing without my will, dropping the blade so that it falls into the wet sand, blade down. My feet lift without my orders and draw me toward the dark waves as if I’m under some sort of spell. I wander to the edge, the water cold around my toes, and without making the decision to, I surge forward. I walk deeper until the water dances across my shoulders, my hands out to my sides as I tread water when the waves lift me. My eyes remain glued to the water, and I can’t even force myself to blink, as if I’m in a trance I cannot break.
But just as suddenly as the sound that lured me out here came, it stops, and I blink as if I’m waking up from a dream. When I realize I’m in the water, I turn quickly, desperate to get back to the shore before I find myself in danger. Where is my knife? I don’t even have the knife!
I see it before I even make it a few feet toward the shore.
A tentacle snakes out of the water before me, and just as I scream, it wraps around my body and drags me under, leaving me choking as water rushes into my mouth. Eyes wide in terror, I flail as I hit and kick the slimy tentacle pulling me through the water. My lungs ache, screaming at me like they are about to burst. Darkness dances at the edges of my vision from my fading consciousness rather than the darkness of the water. My limbs fail me, and I know I’m drowning.
Despite my aching lungs and my body screaming at me to open my mouth, my eyes widen when I finally see what the tentacle is attached to. I stop fighting, though there’s not much fight left in me as the burning in my lungs grows worse. A huge octopus, like the ones I saw in the books during my short time in school, bigger than any I’ve ever seen or heard of, looks me in the eyes as it pulls me close like I’m prey.
Which I am.
I’m going to die and be eaten by an octopus.
What an idiot.
