Page 83 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

“When I unleash again, it’ll be vulnerable,” she said, opting for the simple directive instead of the full backstory. “Hopefully, that will give you an open shot at it. Can you manage that?”

“Yes!”

Ingrid was nearly ready. “One more thing,” she said to Dean. “The Hydra, it’ll go for Arryn. That’s why it didn’t sink the ship. It was trying to get to Arryn first. Tell the twins to keep a sword pointed at him.”

Dean didn’t waste time with a response. He moved to the other half of their team and relayed the orders. Raidinn and Tyla nodded, moving closer to Arryn with their weapons drawn, knees bent, watching Enitha.

Her golden scales shone like stars in the cloudy darkness as she bucked up from the water, higher and higher until she was fully breached over sea-level and showing her full size, her full power…

And then she spoke.

“Thief. Oathbreaker. Spy.”

Murmurs and yelps sounded off from the crew as they beheld the demon.

It was impossible. What was happening before their very eyes was unthinkable.

They ran for cover just as Enitha came striking back down on them with all her might, three sets of deadly teeth opening like the pits of hell and slamming again into that wall of red protection.

Ingrid was ready. With serene grace, she scooped out every bit of magic inside her, and let it go.

A blast of white light consumed everything around her.

Enitha faltered, and Dean and Tyla’s aim was true as they let the arrows fly, piercing right through the shield and heading for the outer heads of Enitha’s Hydra form.

At the last moment, the great beast slithered away, narrowly dodging the attack.

“It’s too fast!” Tyla screamed out.

Ingrid looked to Dean for any show of confidence, but found none. She knew it was a tough order. Even if they managed to release their arrows quickly enough to land, the Hydra’s scales might’ve been impenetrable. They looked like enameled armor.

“Keep trying!” Ingrid screamed out to them. “I’ll see if I can… do more,” she stammered. Do more of what? she thought to herself. She’d only just discovered how to do anything at all. And now she was going to do more?

She looked up to Enitha, thinking, but the Hydra had already opened her three jaws and attacked in unison.

The shield flickered, showing signs of its power waning.

“Look, my lady!” a voice called out. It was Lucilla, standing nearby. She was pointing to a microscopic island in the distance. Stone and soil. Fodder for her power. “If we can push it back for long enough, I can use it.”

“I told you she was brilliant!” Raidinn called out.

“What do we need to do?”

“Closer,” Lucilla said confidently. “Get the Hydra as close as possible.” Her chest puffed out, her eyes hardening. “And I’ll do the rest, my lady!”

Ingrid gave an order to Dean, who quickly informed the captain.

With tired and stunned movements, the older male accepted the command cautiously, pointing the ship west toward the mountain jutting out from the ocean.

“Brace!” Dean called out.

Enitha now struck from both sides, using her tail like a whip to strike from behind them.

“Prepare hard-a-port!” the captain shouted.

In order to get Enitha in the desired spot, he’d have to put himself and his ship at great risk, barreling into the island.

If they’d rammed into it, the damage to the hull would likely be irreparable.

A hard turn would need to be executed at the perfect time.

Lucilla stood her ground next to Ingrid, closing her eyes as Enitha continued to strike. One set of snapping jaws after the other in quick succession.

The ship turned.

The shield bent at the force.

Then Lucilla unleashed. The great rock sang, crumbling above them.

Tiny pieces of the islet mountain fell into the sea with a plop, plop, plop, growing louder and larger every second.

It was working. Mammoth chunks of stone and earth plummeted like sharp rain until the great Hydra had been trapped between it and Ingrid’s shield.

Even as Enitha became aware of the rubble just behind her, she could not evade it.

Lucilla quivered, clenched, and unleashed her power once more, snapping the islet in two.

A piece of earth larger even than the Hydra itself came tumbling down on the creature, cracking against one of Enitha’s heads.

The three squeals of the beast harmonized into an unbearably loud sound as it sank.

Dean and Tyla peppered the Hydra with the last arrows they had while Ingrid dug deep once more, scraping the last bit of magic she had inside.

Blinding white light consumed them.

The sky became a colorless void. All sound had been sucked into a vacuum. A full minute of nothingness—nothing even attuned Viator senses could pick up on.

Only silence, followed by a low hum.

And then, finally, a voice.

“Ingrid? Ingrid, are you alright!?”

Dean was calm through all of it, as if he only needed to hear her voice.

“I’m here,” she said. “Follow my words. I’m here!”

The sound of footsteps approached, soothing her. In the wake of it all, their hands met. They embraced, holding each other as the world around them began to reform, taking shape.

The sea glimmered in the half-light of the clouded sun. Blues and greens filled in the emptiness like watercolors on blank parchment. Grey clouds again hung in the sky.

And the jagged sea-mountain, what remained of it, suddenly appeared right before them.

“Brace!”

The captain hadn’t stopped yanking at the wheel. He had no choice. He tugged as hard as he could, leaning at an impossible angle and yelling out to his crew, “Brace! Brace!”

The islet was just feet from them. Sharp rock that could cut into the ship and send them falling to the bottom of the Jemii. The crew held tight to the mast ropes. A great and horrible crunch came from below.

“Hold on to me,” Dean said, reaching for Ingrid.

She did. And over his shoulder, she watched. Watched as the captain worked, veins popping from his forearms and face reddened with effort.

The ship tipped at a dangerous angle, able crew members piling on one side to aid the turn.

“We’re going to make it,” Dean said into her ear. “No matter what.”

From Ingrid’s perspective, a crash looked inevitable, but she closed her eyes, whispered back, “No matter what.”

And then she prayed. Actually prayed. Not some desperate and mindless declaration. It was a full submission to the ways of her birthplace, begging her new God, her blessed Mother, her true home, to save them.

The crew bellowed out in unison.

Ingrid couldn’t deduce if it was in agony or exaltation, and she only kept her eyes closed and her arms around Dean. As long as she remained there, she thought, she was safe. Time seemed to slow again as she held on. Feeling the weight of him, the strength of him.

And finally, falling safely into his assurances, “We made it.”

Her eyelids shot open. She took in the scene, hardly believing what she saw. The crew was celebrating, abandoning their professional demeanors to indulge in embraces of their own. The captain had narrowly avoided complete and utter devastation by inches, steering them back into open water.

“We made it,” she repeated back to Dean.

She’d never been so glad to peer out at the empty sea. Forgetting her distaste, she pressed her stomach hard into the wood of the taffrail, assessing the depths below.

“She’s gone.” Ingrid whipped her head around in every direction. “Enitha is gone.”

“ That was Enitha?” Dean asked breathlessly.

“Long story.”

One that would have to wait. All Dean or anyone else aboard had to know was that the beast was nowhere in sight. For now, he took her word for it. Sifting through the carnage for survivors was the most important thing.

Together, Dean and Ingrid circled the ship and tended to the first injured crew member they happened upon. Just as they’d gotten him to his feet, Raidinn called out to them.

“Guys! I think you need to see this.” He waved them over to where he was kneeling next to Arryn, and just feet away, Tyla tended to Callinora.

The princess was stirring, showing signs of recovery. Miraculously, her radiant complexion was clear of any wounds or markings, but she was still barely conscious, only moving when her short, shallow breaths puffed her chest out slightly.

Arryn, on the other hand, had come to in a painful, sobering burst.

His pupils had returned to a natural size, revealing wide, beautiful blue eyes.

Callinora had spoken of those eyes, how her greatest fear was not remembering what they looked like.

What he looked like. And now, after going to such lengths to see him again, it would be difficult to recognize her husband at all.

He’d aged ten years, it seemed, just in the last ten minutes. Lines creased at the sides of his mouth. Wrinkles formed above his forehead. And his hair—it had turned completely white. Somewhere in the process of breaking his curse, the stress of it bleached his brown hair a pale ivory.

“What is this!? Who… who are you?” he asked hurriedly.

Raidinn cleared a sight path to his wife, gesturing to her. “She sent us to save you. So we did.”

Arryn blinked rapidly. “Is she… is she—Callinora!” He lurched forward, but didn’t have the strength to get to his feet. Raidinn helped him up, walking him to the princess’s side. “What happened to her?”

“We’re not sure,” Dean said sympathetically. “But I imagine it was something similar to what happened to you.” He stalled a moment. “Do you, umm, happen to remember what that was? What Enitha did to you?”

Arryn didn’t even flinch at the name. He only shook his head, trying to grasp onto something. “I remember saying goodbye to my wife. In Maradenn. Our home.” He looked out to sea. “Enitha, though, I can’t be sure. The name is familiar. As if I’d just dreamed it.”

“Keep searching,” Dean was gentle, but didn’t hide the insistence in his voice.