Chapter 2

Quickly, Ellirae swam, darting from stone to stone. All around she glanced, her heart a flutter. In excitement her marks warmed, flashing in uncontrolled patterns.

Her a patrol might see.

But help it she could not.

New new new! Everything she saw was new, unexplored, unseen by her or any others she imagined.

Along the curving and dipping sea floor she followed. Artful waves of sand, on and on it stretched, wrapping jagged crevices like scars in the land and butting against rocky, striated shelves.

Lots of sponges on the rocks covered: bulbous and yellow, pink and stringy, and long orange tubes, their ends exhaling jets of water on occasion.

A friendly octopus from its hole waved, and wave back she did, hiding a grimace in case it thought she not belong. Quite vocal about rules some were. But out here? It likely not, by the Correxium, be employed.

Even so, on she moved with haste.

Branches of deep corals, out they stretched, some thin and wiry, others fat and curvey. Kind of like people. At the thought she giggled.

Around a bend she stopped. From the ground, enormous curving bones formed archways beneath a kelp forest. The plants, in long lines they grew, reaching far above to the dim shimmer of the sun.

Down she dove, a grin on her lips.

Fish, through the bone gaps, skirted away.

Now secluded, her marks freely glowed in delight. On her way through she twirled and danced, reaching the end of the archways in a few minutes, glad that whatever monster such bones came from was alive not anymore to eat her.

That thought was interrupted.

Dreykin eggs!

Purple, translucent globs, in a hollow they sat, giving off the faintest glow. The rocky edges of their nest, in poisonous spurs were covered. But such deterrents could not a hunter stop.

Each one she poked and deposited to her Inventory. Six eggs—at twenty coral chips a piece—worth lots more than her whole bag of fish for the day!

Resources out here, much better they were. So, why make it forbidden? The Correxium, too safely it played, inventing rules that hurt her ability to earn a living while they, on royal sea sponges, sat.

Rules. . . .

Right now herself she ruled.

Ellirae’s marks flashed, and she nodded firmly.

Distant shadowy shapes of untamed whales sang. To the tune she hummed, letting it soothe her anger while swimming further into the forbidden area to come upon a most fortuitous discovery.

A sunken ship!

A sunken human ship.

Her marks tingled happily.

The gray mottled wood beneath barnacles and algae, broken and cracked it was. The ghosts of sailors she could picture, running across the deck to secure ropes on now rusted hooks.

Schools of fish, as one they moved. And above them, two . . . Barnacle Sharks circled, their encrusted bodies six times her length.

Immediately, her marks dimmed.

The vise of fear wrapped her, squeezing the warmth from her bones, her pulse loud in her ears, lips apart in a silent gasp.

Gently and slowly, backward she moved, trying to attract not the attention of the enormous, armored creatures.

That rule—to avoid Barnacle Sharks at all cost—she readily accepted. To die now, very unlucky that would be. And painful. Forgive herself for this opportunity ruined she would not.

And another problem there was. To Return at the cemetery, questions would be asked and verified.

An option, death was not.

One shark, its angular fins tilted. A subtle yet unmistakable gesture of alertness it was. The scent of her it no doubt had.

Faster she moved, her marks now prickling in panic, betraying her location. A lure she was. A tasty tasty lure!

The shark, with swift haste, around it flipped. Fish bolted, leaving trails of light behind and expelling clouds of murky green. The water, bitter it turned.

But the shark wanted not fish. A refined taste for Veetamor it clearly had.

Away she twisted and kicked and pushed, her marks flickering all over, bright as they could be. How she hated them! A human would not this problem have.

In a sudden movement forward the shark surged. A deep grinding vibration from it emanated, hungry and eager for blue flesh.

Around an encrusted rock she swam.

It burst apart!

Down beneath the cracks in the sea floor, beneath the grasses and Siren’s Lace clinging to craggy rocks, down where the smaller fish hid, she dragged herself through.

Sharp crystals and rocks alike, across her arms and legs they tore, leaving trails of silvery damage. A -11 in white, up into the open maw it slid before the shark, into the ground it crashed.

Murky clouds of sediment erupted, obscuring the water with their thick, swirling masses.

Countless fish around her squirmed, their sharp fins cutting as they fled.

Blindly, Ellirae kicked and clawed after them, desperate to escape the grinding noise that followed. Not a minute later, against a rock her head cracked.

Armor now depleted, a sharp and dense pain forced her to stop and cradle her skull. From her throat a whimper escaped. This shallow crevice ended with nowhere else to go!

Closer the grinding grew. The shark’s unyielding determination shook the ground. Free from the sides rocks broke and fell. Her leg a heavy rock nearly crushed.

You wanted this, frenzied and unhelpful thoughts accused. To be an explorer out in the dangerous world, to see and experience it for herself.

Yes. Yes. Brave an explorer was.

Clever as well!

With effort to drown out the approaching grind that would be her eventual death, she cleared her mind. In memory, the shark attacked not until her marks flashed.

Light the answer was?

But the fish, trails of light they had made, and . . . bitter green emissions. Alas, on command, she could not fart to save her life!

The barnacled shark’s nose, in her nook it wedged, jagged teeth snapping for a limb.

Against the rocks she pressed, kicking the sharp armor that only tore up her bare feet. Over the panic she hardly felt it.

Down her arm, the warmth of mana surged into a Glaive Gale. Through the open jaws it sliced, striking the roof of the shark’s mouth. It recoiled and twisted away, disappearing into the murk.

But not for long.

Be back it would, and angry at that!

Light she needed. And an idea she had.

Illumination, her implicit ability to create light from fireflies, could be the lure. But never had she used it in such a way.

Against instincts and frantic thoughts she fought, focusing on releasing her inner light. From her skin brilliant fireflies escaped, intent on wandering to fill the space, but fill the space, she wanted not.

To lure the shark back, most foolish that would be. So, with great will, the shape of herself she imagined and felt . . . something. Each light, a pull it had, like a string to her heart tethered, a string she had felt not before.

A deep rumbling growl, her attention it seized.

The shark was back!

On those strings she yanked, desperate for them to form into an echo of herself. But they resisted. Precise instructions each needed, yet see she could not. Instead, into a sphere they gathered.

Good enough!

Through the clouds of sediment the light moved, released toward the surface. And not two seconds later, it vanished, consumed whole, the strings cut.

Ellirae, down her emotions she forced, keeping her marks dark as she waited, jaw flexed. One second, then two. Ten seconds, then twenty.

Minutes passed.

After an hour the sediment cleared, and through the hole she slowly climbed, poking her head out first and looking around.

Alone she was not. But no sharks swam near.

Relieved bubbles, she blew.

Not wanting to waste any more time, off the sea floor she shoved. The sandy and rocky land, up it sloped. The map on her watch, a nearby island it revealed, and her marks blossomed in light once again.

An island!

The excitement could be contained not in the least. And the incident with one Barnacle Shark, quickly forgotten it was as toward the island she swam.