Fire Heart (The Titans: Book One) (50 page)

But he had, he realized—Clare had told him sailors' stories of strange aquatic beings that lured seafaring men to the depths with their enchanting beauty. That the sailors were never seen again was the other half of the tale, and remembering it made Will shiver.

Borbos,
he asked, extending a private thought to the Titan,
what are they doing?

Preparing,
Borbos grimly replied.
The City is strong, there be no doubt of that. But we do not know what strange powers the traitors will bring to this fight. Those merfolk be weaving their lives into the coral. It gives it strength.

At what cost?
Will asked, but he thought he knew the answer. When the Titan turned to look back at him, the glowing lines of his face were steeped in sadness.

Death. If the City is attacked, it will sap their strength until they die.

But that's horrible!
Will cried.
Can't you do something else?

Such be the way of things.

Borbos' tone brooked no further discussion, and Will fell into silence before giving the chanting merfolk one last, long look.

The darkness became steadily deeper, until finally his vision was filled with innumerable glowing
points of light on a field of black. He heard a strange sound then, some sort of sharp, rapid clicking that reached his ears with a clarity that did not mesh with the dulled noises of the deep. He looked around for its source, and when it came again he felt a strange vibration in his hands. He looked down at his drake's head, and then laughed a stream of bubbles.

It's like a bat,
he thought to himself.
The drake is making noise to see in the water.

Do you hear that?
Clare's voice asked.

Yes. I think it's the water drakes.

It is.
Her glowing eyes turned to meet his.
I swam with dolphins once, and they did it too.

Dolphins?
he asked quizzically.

Oh—sorry. More sea creatures. Maybe we'll see one if we're lucky. They're supposed to be a sign of good fortune, especially if you're on a ship.

Will looked overhead, and his heart skipped a beat.
And what of those?
he asked, pointing up.
What kind of luck do they bring?

There were sharks—dozens of them, their glowing outlines cutting silently through the waters as they followed the army of merfolk. Will looked back down and saw Clare staring at them, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

That,
she said slowly,
is one of the most frightening things I have ever seen.

Let's hope they're on Borbos' side,
Will thought, and she nodded her mute assent.

The sharks stayed away, never straying from their lazy path until some time later, when they abruptly vanished. For a long while Will did not notice that they had left. When he finally did, he opened his mind and projected his thoughts.

Where have they gone?
he asked Borbos.

Who?

The sharks.
Will gestured expansively at the surrounding black.
I don't see them anymore.

Aye,
Borbos said with a nod.
They've gone because they cannot follow us anymore. 'Tis too deep, see. The water would crush them like brittle glass.

I don't understand,
Will thought slowly.
Why would it do that? I don't feel any different...
As if to prove the point, he gently patted his body.

Borbos gave him a wink and a grin.
The merfolk's gift, my boy. If you didn't have it, you'd be as flat as a piece of parchment at this depth.

Ah,
Will thought, and the word was tinny in his mind. He shivered unconsciously and looked around at the water as though it might attack him. He was beginning to find the sea a more dangerous and terrifying place than any he had ever visited. And he was unsure whether he would make a return visit.

His gaze soon roved over to Clare, whose face looked at once both frightened and determined. He was sure his own looked very much the same. He knew that she was ready to put her life in jeopardy for him—again—so he tried to look as stoic and brave as possible, if only for her benefit. It was difficult, though; the longer they spent beneath the waves, and the farther down they went, the more his unease grew. He felt trapped, unsure of himself—if a fight broke out, would he be of any help at all? Would he even be able to defend himself against something that lived so far down in the deep?

He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts.
Can't dwell on that,
he thought.

Are you alright?

It was Clare's voice, and he was glad that she could not see his cheeks redden.
So much for putting on a brave face,
he thought to himself.

To her, he said,
I'm fine. It's just eerie down here.

I know what you mean,
she thought back.
I keep remembering sailor yarns about giant beasts that live in the deep and tear ships apart to devour the humans inside.

Will stared at her.

Sorry,
she said after a moment, grinning sheepishly.

That's...fine...

They drifted off into silence. Will, for his part, tried to concentrate on how good it felt to be talking to Clare, rather than the feelings of complete terror welling up inside of him.
Hopefully she's forgotten about that business in the forest,
he thought, but the idea made his heart sink.
I should have just kept my mouth shut.
He sighed, the sound lost to the waters.
Damn it.

But then, to his surprise, he heard Clare think,
Will, I...
She paused.
I want you to—

Whatever she had been about to say, however, was lost beneath Borbos' booming voice.

Make ready!
he cried, his words thundering through Will's mind like waves on a rocky shore.
They've found us!

For an instant Will could not see what he was talking about. He cast his gaze around frantically, but all he saw were the glowing outlines of merfolk. He began to relax, thinking that perhaps Borbos had made a mistake.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. He flicked his head to the left, scanning the dark void, but nothing was there. His ears were filled with the sloshing silence of calm waters; before him lay empty blackness. He narrowed his eyes.

The scream that shattered the quiet was strange. Heard from underwater, it sounded muffled and distant as though smothered beneath a pillow. It was accompanied by the dimly-glowing outline of a merman, who thrashed and squirmed as he fought with an assailant that Will could barely see—he caught only fleeting, flickering glimpses of spiny fins and rending claws.

And then the merman abruptly ceased screaming; his body fell limp, and a moment later it separated completely in two at the waist. The human half drifted slowly away from the twitching fish tail as the corpse sank to the depths. Will caught a last, fleeting glimpse of the merman's assailant as it darted away, its form outlined in dim gold that flashed erratically as though something was desperately trying to keep it hidden.

They're doing the same thing the yaru were!
Will thought, projecting his thoughts to everyone.
Somehow they're hiding themselves from our sight.

But Serah said she couldn't see them at all,
Clare thought back.
I just now saw bits and pieces of it. What's happening?

Will drew his sword, the metal scraping dully out of the scabbard on his back. It felt good to have a blade in his hands again, even if this one was unfamiliar.
I don't know,
he said.
But at least we aren't totally blind. Watch for the flickering lights.

Beneath his legs he felt the water drake quiver, but not from fear; looking into its glowing eyes, Will could see barely-caged bestial rage. It was eager—ready for a fight.

Will, Clare,
said Borbos' voice in his head, and the drake suddenly darted over to the Sea Lord.
Stay close to me. If worse comes to worst, you must return to the surface and make for the armada. You'll have a better chance there.

We're not leaving you,
Will said forcefully, but Borbos waved his hand dismissively.

I won't be giving you a choice. My drakes'll be dragging you by the seat of your pants if that's what it comes to.
His eyes turned to meet Will's.
If I do not make it out of this alive, just know that I am happy to have lived long enough to meet the new Dragon King. And remember—death be only the beginning. We all see each other in the Void eventually.

Will held his gaze for a moment more, and then looked away.
Fine,
he said.
Make sure not to die. I'd hate to have to kill your drake.

Borbos barked a laugh, and his whole body shook with mirth.
Aye, lad! Those be fightin' words!
He pushed his thoughts out to everyone then, and his booming voice shook Will's mind.
Alright you rats, make ready! We've a world to save!

Will heard something strange then—it started off soft, like an itch at the back of his mind, and slowly gained in volume. It sounded almost like...

Singing,
he realized as the sound grew loud
er
, its notes unnaturally clear despite the water.
The merfolk are singing. Are they doing the same thing to us that they were to the City?
The song was
haunting and strange, something in between a Clergy chant and a tavern ditty that made Will want to dance and charge into battle at the same time. There were no words, but the melody invigorated him and seemed to almost infuse his body with newfound strength. He hefted his sword and tightened his grip on the hilt, and then turned to meet Clare's eyes.

She was already staring back at him, resolute and ready just as he was, and as his gaze touched hers she nodded and gave him a half-smile. There was an anxious look in her stare, though she was covering it well.

I'm glad you're here,
he said, directing his thoughts only to her. Her smile broadened, but the look in her eyes did not change. Will could not blame her; he
was afraid as well. The emotion had been climbing farther and farther up his spine from the moment he had entered the sea. He could feel it now as a physical sensation—a tiny, shivering cold spot in the back of his head, repressed for the moment but awaiting its chance to escape and consume him completely.

I am too,
Clare answered, and then she looked away.

And that was when Will noticed the telltale flickering lights of the enemy all around them. He gritted his teeth and raised his blade.

~

The sun was low in the sky now, its base just above the horizon. Feothon was unsure how many tolls of the bell they had been fighting for; it felt like days since he had left the safety of his forest. At least they had moved onto the boats long ago—he did not relish the idea of doing battle from atop the Leviathan, especially when its formidable might was needed for other things. And the battle, he had to admit, was going remarkably well—so far they had lost only a single ship, and with the combined might of three Titans the water demons had little hope of success. But regardless, he hoped Borbos and the others would return soon. They had been gone for so long that he was beginning to worry.

The monsters were thick even now, despite the countless losses they had taken, and the sea was churning with their scaly, nightmarish forms. They thrashed and fought just below the surface like sharks in a feeding frenzy, their screeching calls piercing the twilight air. Feothon looked over the edge of the ship and saw a handful of the creatures climbing the vessel's hull, their black claws sinking into the wood as they pulled their slimy, scaled bodies up the side. They were disgusting, a freakish assortment of talons and teeth and spines all attached to a body that could have belonged to a monstrous eel. They had no eyes; they lived so far beneath the surface that light had long ago ceased to be of use to them, and Feothon could see their heads questing rhythmically from side to side as they searched for prey. In the beginning the Titan Beros had given them a name: tamyat. It meant many things, none of them pleasant, but for all the races of Pallamar it had one universal translation: terror. They had plagued the nightmares of sailors since the days of the Dark One, and would continue to do so until the end.

Silver flashed in the waning sunlight, and the closest creature fell back into the churning depths minus its head, which continued to gnash its teeth as it tumbled away into oblivion. Feothon's slender blade struck again and caught the next monster beneath the chin. He drove his sword up and out through the back of its neck, holding it out before him as though it were a fraction of its size. It shrieked and thrashed, and then fell silent as Feothon tore his weapon away, cutting its head in half from chin to scalp. Blood spurted chaotically through the air as it, too, fell to join its deceased comrades.