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R yton sliced the water like a spelled shell knife, the dragonfire burns he’d suffered during his first run-in with the Earth Queen stinging.

It was time to stop mulling around the ruins, hoping the Earth Queen would return.

He had to use this terrible creature he’d taken on and climb out of the sea. Today.

A shudder tore him, from both the thing on his back and the idea of being above water for an extended length of time.

Zipping through an array of blood-red jellyfish, he reached the gentle rise of rocks that led to the shoreline north of Bihotzetik, a goodly distance from where the Earth Queen and her minions had been last time.

He would need to gather himself onshore, to make certain he truly could function on land, before he attempted the killing.

His toes gripped the small rocks, and he slipped, swimming again.

No, I must walk, he chided himself.

His foot slammed against the pebbles and raised whirls of grit.

Head clearing the surface, he took an experimental breath and surveyed the immediate area for signs of life.

A few birds flew by, black and raucous, but no larger beasts—human, elf, or dragon—showed themselves.

His lip curled at the thought of being so close to his greatest enemy, the murderers of his sister, while he was out of water.

Fear lanced his need for revenge, and he realized he was shaking badly.

“You had better work, monster,” he hissed at the black creature he carried.

A cough ripped his throat, the raw air burning and scouring. He bent double and put his hands on his knees, and his lungs worked like a dying squid inside his chest. The creature hummed with magic. A bolt of energy surged down his spine.

With a shout, he jerked upright.

Pain trailed the magic, but then the sensation faded.

He could breathe properly. Touching his gills, he realized they had reduced in size and lay flat on his flesh as if in hiding.

A chill raged over his limbs, and he stumbled, falling to his knees.

He froze as his fins diminished in a manner similar to his gills.

They remained visible but were less stiff, and their seaweed color faded to match his skin.

Ryton’s stomach turned. The change was so much like the dragons’ version of transformation, how their wings and talons lessened in size and their scales softened into more elven features. He forced himself to take three deep breaths.

The pebbles of the coastline spilled onto a knoll covered in dry seaweed—no, it was called grass .

The material scratched at his feet, but not in a harsh way.

It was odd, but not painful. It was all so strange.

He looked around to see rising mountains, the base of their incline only a short distance away.

Something moved along the shore.

No, it was the rippling shadow of a creature flying.

Blinking furiously, he tried to see the sky, to keep looking up and away, but the harsh white seared his eyes. A headache throbbed between his eyebrows.

Rubbing the pained spot, he searched for cover, head down. He couldn’t have the Earth Queen and her minions seeing him before he had a chance to attack.

But there were no caves here. Not one large enough to hide him.

Perhaps farther south… But he could smell the Earth Queen that way. His own camp couldn’t be that close.

Camp.

He groaned.

Hopefully, he could end this without having to spend more than a few hours above water.

Pressing onward, dizzier than he’d ever been in his entire life, he found a stand of trees with thick leaves, wide as his two hands side by side. The growth grabbed the sunlight and drowned it, leaving the space under the sporadically spaced limbs blessedly dim.

He collapsed in the midst of the foreign plants.

When his breathing grew regular and his headache faded, he maneuvered himself so he could view the entirety of the coastline. He couldn’t yet look to the skies though. His eyes needed more time to adjust.

To keep his frustration tied tight, he rummaged around to discover a rock for sharpening and went to work on his shell spear. Whispering magic, he strengthened the weapon.

When he stretched to set the stone on the ground, a gust of raw air hit his face. He began coughing again, cursing this place for even existing.

Once he murdered the Earth Queen, all of the land and its horrors would be doomed to die when Queen Astraea saw fit.

It would be over quickly after that. How could his sister Selene have been so interested in this place?

Why had he himself been fascinated with shipwrecks and human oddities?

This place was a nightmare, and he would be glad to see its end.

A movement caught Ryton’s eye. Some creature shifted a leaf near his foot. The thing leapt from its hiding spot and landed on Ryton’s knee.

Ryton froze.

The beast was no bigger than a fist. Two lines ran down its back.

A measly tail pointed from its end. As the disgusting thing nibbled what looked like a large seed, its tiny, liquid eyes watched him.

He shuddered. Would it bite him? Its mouth was far too small to cause great damage.

But what if it was venomous like some sea snakes?

The furred being hopped off his leg without incident before scurrying through the grass.

Ryton released a breath and chided himself yet again. One wee beast and he froze? Was he not the greatest general in the sea? Thank the Source that Grystark hadn’t been here to witness that scene. Ryton never would have heard the end of the ribbing.

He watched the creature climb another tree ten feet away.

The beast joined two others, and they chittered like old friends.

A fourth creature emerged from a tangle of dry seaweed—no, just weeds —its form far smaller.

A youngling. The furry things nuzzled one another before running into the nest to hide from an osprey’s shadow.

The words for above-water life were coming back to him. It’d been many years since his youthful schooling, but the information was there, only needing to be shaken from his streamlined, military mind.

Selene’s smiling face blinked behind his eyes.

His sister had been top of her class in above-water topics, a frowned-upon yet tolerated subject.

One had to know their enemy. Selene had been the youngest to pass the dragon test. Ryton’s teeth ground together.

Such an irony. Selene had been interested in the very creatures who had burned her to death.

What would she have thought of this mission of his?

If he’d been killed that day instead of her—every day he wished for it—would she be here, hunting the one soul who could keep the dragons and all the land creatures alive? Surely, she would. Wouldn’t she?

Ryton grabbed for the sharpening stone again and went to work on his spear just to have something to do with his hands.

Selene’s voice echoed through his memory. He could almost hear her in his head.

“Big brother and his brave plans! I wonder what the queen will do with you if you ever do make it into her inner circle. You are far too handsome to ignore. And much too quick for her to dismiss. Perhaps you will be the next queen’s consort?

If you gain all the immense sway I think you will, you must promise to take me near the coast for an expedition. ”

Ryton shook his head, and the sharpening stone slipped from his fingers. Pressure built behind his eyes and in his throat. She had been teasing, but she’d stumbled onto the true future.

Ryton had become Astraea’s consort and her general. But here was the expedition, and Selene was long dead. Would she have marveled at the furry creatures? Would she have wanted to spy on a dragon?

A sad smile quirked Ryton’s lips. He coughed again, throat tight with raw air and raw pain.

She would’ve loved this quest, despite the pain and the fear.

Selene had been remarkably tough considering how small she’d been at birth.

She had been as squirmy as a little squid when she was an infant.

Her face had filled with wonder when Ryton wiggled an eyebrow to entertain her.

Ryton leaned his head back on one of the trees’ rough and spindly trunks and let the memories wash over him.

She had been taken too soon. Gripping his spear, knuckles straining, he wished he would have acted differently the day she died.

He could have come up beside her more quickly.

With one change in that day’s events, he might have been able to block the dragonfire for a moment and let her escape. One wrong move and he’d lost her.

His spear fell to the ground beside him, and he flexed his hands, hands that had once held a sweet girl. He looked toward the sea and was glad a slim cloud cover blanketed the vicious sun so he could actually focus on the jagged waves of pearl white and soothing blue.

Perhaps Selene watched him now. Perhaps she too wished he’d acted differently that fateful day.

Shaking his head, he pushed the guilt under the sand drifts of time.

Only now mattered.

He couldn’t change the past. It was foolish to moan over mistakes made long ago. Now he had the chance to act, to avenge Selene, to destroy the one person who might protect the vicious dragons.

Nothing mattered except assassinating the Earth Queen.