Spirit of the Sea Witch Read online

  The dwarf laughed out loud, slapping his knee. “How else can I know so much? I am Grimley.” He jutted a thumb in his chest and nodded at the giant behind him. “And you have already met my pearl.”

  Though the thunderous rattle of her snores still shook the ground beneath Alec’s arse, the giant opened one eye, looking around the camp before focusing her unnerving orb on Alec.

  Alec avoided her gaze. “Gr-Grimley?” He sputtered again as more fire rose in his throat, and his world tipped slightly to one side. What was in that flask?

  “Aye, but you may call me Grim.” A wide smile split the dwarf’s round face. “That’s what my friends call me.”

  Friends? Alec was taken back by the dwarf’s good nature, especially when he compared this father to his own. Since Alec’s world was off-kilter, he decided he’d had enough of the dwarf’s draught. He didn’t trust his aim, so he handed the flask to Des.

  “Pass this back to him,” he whispered.

  The boy jumped up and ran around the fire, handing it to the dwarf, then squealed when he was rewarded with another pie. He sat down beside Alec, happily gorging on his food. Despite earlier events, Alec was growing fond of the dwarf. Mayhap not his adopted child, though, as she still stared at him with one wide eye.

  Alec withdrew a meat stick from his sack, hoping a little nourishment would ease the spinning in his skull. “You’re too jovial to be Grim.”

  Merriment danced in Grim’s eyes. “There’s the joke of it, you see?”

  “I am Alec, and this is Desryn.” Alec nodded at the boy beside him, then bit into the leathery meat.

  The boy sat up, a mouthful of crumbs spewing down his tunic as he spoke. “You can call me Des.”

  Grim answered the boy with a wink. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, young Des.”

  Des flashed a smile full of chewed fruit and crumbs before returning to his pie.

  “We are from Adolan,” Alec added, picking a piece of meat from between his teeth.

  Grim’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “So Alec of Adolan, why do you care to help these blue-skinned gnazes find the cause of the melting glacier?”

  Alec did his best to ignore the grumbling coming from his companions’ bedrolls. He’d suspected they hadn’t fallen asleep. They probably didn’t trust the snoring giant either.

  “Because we share a common interest, which is seeking safety for our people.”

  Grim arched a bushy brow. “Think you that Adolan is unsafe?”

  Alec swallowed a lump of dry meat. “None of the world will be safe once the glacier melts.”

  The dwarf took a swig of his fiery drink, then coughed while pounding his chest, his nose and cheeks turning even redder. Alec wondered why Grim drank that poison if it made him sick, but then he was reminded of his father, always with a tankard in hand. Mother had said that his father drank to forget the past. Perhaps Grim had memories he was trying to bury, too.

  Grim cleared his throat before capping the flask and slipping it back inside his vest. “Aye, there is truth in that, for then the sea witch will have all the power.”

  Gorpat snorted, then her other eye flew open. Her brow drew down, the heavy folds nearly falling over her eyes. “Don’t say ‘witch,’ Dada.”

  The dwarf looked over his shoulder at his giant daughter’s scrunched features. “Sorry, my pearl.” He turned back to Alec, pulling a cloth out of his vest and wiping glistening drops of sweat off his brow. “Her ma don’t like me speaking of the demon fish so.”

  “Demon fish?” Alec was confused. Was he speaking of the ice goddess’s sea-dwelling sister?

  Grim solemnly nodded. “The torso of a beautiful maiden, the tail of a fish, but the heart of a serpent.”

  Alec rubbed his chin, sharing a puzzled look with Des. “You are speaking of the sea goddess, Eris?”

  The dwarf frowned. “Aye, ’tis the same bitch,” he mumbled, casting a wary glance over his shoulder.

  The giant’s eyes nearly crossed as she frowned at her father.

  “I’d no idea she had a fish’s tail. Is she a siren?” As far as Alec knew, the ice goddess Madhea had no tail, though his brother had told him she had wings that buzzed angrily like demonic little pixies. How strange her sister would be so different.

  “Nay, she is no siren.” The dwarf shook his head, snickering. “The sirens are angels in comparison.”

  He snorted. “I find that hard to believe.” Alec had heard too many tales of sirens luring ships to the rocks and then baring rows of shark-like jagged teeth and feasting upon shipwrecked sailors as they screamed for mercy.

  The dwarf’s eyes hardened. “Then let us hope you never meet Eris and find out for yerself.”

  “Sing the song, Dada,” the giant pleaded, nearly knocking Alec back with a wave of her hot breath.

  Grim looked over his shoulder at the girl, shaking his head. “Nay, my pearl. ’Tis too sad.”

  “Sing, Dada. Pur-lease.”

  He flashed her one more doleful look. “Very well.” He cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and began with a soft hum.

  Alec had to strain to hear at first, but then Grim’s voice grew so deep and strong, it filled Alec’s bones with the reverberations of a snow bear’s roar.

  “Goddess of ash and sea.” The dwarf’s tone was so rich and pure, Alec’s heart nearly broke from the beauty of it. “Please return my child to me. Though ’tis four score since she wandered this shore, my spirit doth cry Annalie... Annalie... Annalie.”

  Alec stared at the dwarf through the campfire’s dancing flames, struck dumb for a long moment before he realized his blurred vision was not from the smoke or fiery drink, but from his own sheen of tears. He looked at Des, who was drying his eyes as well.

  Alec didn’t know if Grim’s beautiful voice or the song’s sad story had stirred these emotions, but sadness soon turned to fear, an icy tendril coiling around his spine like a serpent threatening to choke his last thread of sanity. Realization soured his gut. “Eris steals children?”

  Grim leveled Alec with a sinister glare, the reflection of the fire dancing in his haunted expression. “Laddie, the witch takes anything she damn well pleases.”

  Chapter Three

  Dianna could scarcely believe her eyes, for after the storm passed, they awoke to find the desert landscape as smooth as the icy shield that blanketed the lakes in Adolan during a winter’s frost. Not a stone marred the sand’s slick perfection, though there was something on the horizon that appeared out of place.

  Could it be water? No, she’d been fooled too many times before, urging Lydra to fly toward the evaporating ripples upon the desert, a trick of the eyes that disappeared before they reached their destination. But this looked different than the illusions from before, and was it her imagination, or did she smell water?

  The wind stirred, kicking up a cloud of dust at her feet.

  Sssanctuary. Go.

  Dianna jerked back at the sibilant hiss in her ear. Had the wind just whispered to her? The serpentine voice didn’t sound like Sindri’s deep lull. Surely the desert’s relentless heat was driving Dianna mad.

  Lydra’s nostrils flared as she pointed her snout in the air and inhaled.

  Dianna placed her hand on the dragon’s cracked scales. “Do you smell water, too?”

  Her dragon answered with a grunt and stumbled to her feet. She took hold of the crude rope tied around Lydra’s neck and hauled herself up, sitting in the crook of the dragon’s wings. “Go, Lydra.”

  The dragon stumbled and then took off, her wings flapping arrhythmically. It was then that Dianna noticed a tear in Lydra’s wing.

  She sent her thanks to the Elements when Lydra landed on the edge of a cliff overlooking what had to be a dream. She heaved a sigh of relief, the tension that had been a noose around her neck slowly uncoiling, like a serpent slithering off her shoulders.

  They’d happened upon an oasis, a waterfall pouring into a lush pond surrounded by leafy green plants and colorfu
l flowers.

  The dragon roared her delight, and before Dianna could catch her breath, Lydra jumped from the cliff, diving straight for the water.

  She shrieked, then laughed, as she was sprayed with water deflected by Lydra’s wings. She let go of the dragon and bobbed on the surface when Lydra dove down. The water’s temperature suddenly shifted. Though Dianna’s magical blood protected her from the Elements, she feared she’d soon be trapped in a block of ice. She swam to the shoreline before Lydra resurfaced, blowing water into the air like a spouting geyser. The water crystalized, turning to ice before it hit the surface. The water around the dragon began to solidify.

  “Hang on,” Dianna called. “Let me get a drink before you freeze everything.”

  She waded knee-deep back into the water and drank several mouthfuls. Ahhh. It felt good to quench her thirst. Her mouth had been as dry as the desert. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was.

  Once she had her fill, she filled the doeskin bladders and climbed out of the pond, resting on the shore.

  Lydra turned the desert oasis into a glittering spectacle, coating the pond in a layer of ice thick enough to hold her weight. The red glow returned to the dragon’s eyes, and her wind-chapped hide was already healing as she let out a deep chuckle some would say sounded like the sinister call of a demon. The monster skidded across the ice, an explosion of crystal shards erupting from her jowls as she turned the waterfall into a frozen curtain. The beautiful greenery along the shore was coated with frosty crystals, their vibrant colors muted beneath their wintery coat.

  The stone in Dianna’s pocket warmed, its bright red glow pulsing beneath the fabric of her heavy vest, making it look as if she had stuffed a hot coal in her pocket.

  Beware, my mother’s guardian approaches. Sindri’s deep voice rattled in Dianna’s skull.

  Her mother’s guardian? “What?”

  Dianna looked up when her environment shifted. She had been with Lydra long enough to know the long shadow that blanketed the ground like a heavy shroud and blotted out the sunlight was no bird.

  She barely had time to suck in a scream before the dragon’s powerful roar nearly flattened her to the ground. She shook when the terrible golden monster, with a wingspan twice that of Lydra’s, sprang from the cliff and landed on her dragon with an earth-shattering thud.

  The ice beneath them exploded. Dianna fell to the ground when shards as big as daggers flew through the air while the dragons wrestled and roared, a ball of flame consuming them. Lydra flapped backward, flailing in the water and blowing a curtain of ice at her nemesis. But Lydra was no match for the behemoth dragon, who melted her ice with his scorching breath, his fire lapping at Lydra’s jowls and causing the ice dragon to howl in pain.

  The golden monster puffed out his chest, his wingspan extending the entire width of the pond. Dianna knew the flame dragon intended to destroy Lydra.

  Instinct fueled her movements as she jumped to her feet, not knowing what to do but knowing she needed to do something. Sindri’s stone pulsed in her vest, sending ripples of warmth through her that made her blood pump faster. Fire raced through her veins, and energy pooled in her palms. She pointed her fingers at the golden dragon and screamed, “Stop!” and was knocked backward when bright bolts flew out of her hands.

  A hush fell, as if all sound had been sucked from the air by a giant vortex. Dianna sat up, dizzy, trying to uncross her eyes.

  The golden dragon was on his back, wings flattened against the ground, golden eyes staring at the sky, his jowls hanging open as if he was suspended in shock. Only his tail moved, twitching like a headless serpent, indicating threads of life still flowed beneath the massive scales.

  Had Dianna done that? Had she disabled a dragon? Had it been her magic or the stone’s?

  Lydra swam to shore, crawling toward Dianna. With a sigh and a shudder, she fell by Dianna’s side.

  Dianna wearily eyed the golden dragon, smoothing a hand across Lydra’s burned scales. “Are you okay, my friend?”

  Lydra answered with a grunt, nuzzling Dianna’s neck with her cold snout.

  Dianna didn’t know how long the golden dragon would be disabled, but they wouldn’t be safe there for long.

  Lydra’s wings were blackened with soot and sticky with blood. Would her friend be able to fly them to safety before the golden dragon recovered? If not, would Dianna have the strength to battle the golden dragon again? The stone in her vest had gone eerily still and cold, as if all of its magic had been drained, though she still wasn’t sure if it was the stone’s magic or hers that had disabled the dragon.

  She looked at her fingers, which were throbbing and charred at the tips. Never before had she been able to shoot bolts out of her fingers. Then again, never before had she needed to break up a fight between two dragons. Dianna rested her forehead against her dragon’s chest. “Oh, Lydra, what do we do?”

  She jerked back at Lydra’s low growl, spinning around in time to see the golden dragon shudder. His wings struck the ground, then he jumped to his haunches with a roar that reverberated through Dianna’s bones. His giant eyes darkened as they narrowed on Dianna, and he roared again, his powerful breath hitting her from across the pond like the hot currents of a wind storm.

  Great goddess! That was one angry dragon.

  Lydra’s growls intensified, and Dianna feared her dragon was not strong enough for another battle. Her knees nearly gave way when the golden dragon’s chest swelled as he sucked in a breath. She knew without a doubt he could burn her from across the pond. Though she had always been impervious to the Elements, she realized her magic may not be strong enough to repel dragon fire.

  She lifted her trembling hands, her confidence waning as she tried to channel her energy and strike the dragon again. Please help me, Sindri. But the stone was silent.

  “Tan’yi’na, no!” someone screamed, and a thunderous boom knocked her down on her hands and knees. Lydra groaned, rolling onto her back and cradling her injured wing.

  Spitting out a mouthful of sand, Dianna turned to see a group of robed women. Three tall, young women with beautiful long, dark, braided hair, rich, bronze skin, and tapered amber eyes flanked a much smaller and older woman, who clutched the head of a gnarled cane. The old woman reminded Dianna of the prophet Dafaur, who had so many lines and wrinkles, her face resembled the tributaries of an ancient, weathered map.

  “This witch is not Madhea.” The old woman gestured at Dianna, her voice crackling. “She does not have wings.”

  The fire dragon sat up, shaking golden specks off his wings.

  It is a trick. The deep, thunderous voice ricocheted in Dianna’s skull.

  Her hand flew to her throat. Had she heard the golden dragon’s thought? “I am not Madhea, I swear.” She sank to her knees and stuck a prayer pose, turning pleading eyes to the dragon, then the old woman. “We have come seeking sanctuary.”

  How does Lydra follow you when she is bound to the sky witch?

  No doubt about it now; she could hear the golden dragon’s thoughts in her mind. She spun toward him, doing her best to keep the fear from her voice. “I have freed her from Madhea.”

  The golden dragon’s hooded eyes narrowed. Who are you? One of Madhea’s worthless Elementals?

  Lydra let out a warning noise and flashed sharp fangs, her glowing, red eyes tunneling on the golden monster.

  Dianna placed a hand on Lydra’s neck, wincing at the pain in her charred fingers. “Easy, girl.” She had no wish to break up another dragon battle. She rose to her feet, doing her best to summon a courage she didn’t feel. “No, I am Dianna.”

  He extended his elongated neck. There is more. Do not lie to me, witch.

  “My father was a mortal. Madhea is my mother. Please,” she said, hating that she had to beg. “We mean you no harm.”

  Judging by the fire dragon’s ominous response, Dianna knew he didn’t believe her. Behind her, the women’s whispers sounded like hissing snakes.

  Dianna arched back
when the wind blew, twisting the old woman’s robes around her knees and blowing back her hooded cape, revealing a long braid of stark, white hair. One of the young women stepped forward, drawing the hood back over the old woman’s hair.

  What little moisture Dianna had left in her parched throat evaporated when the old woman pointed a crooked finger at her. “This girl speaks the truth.”

  Do not trust her, My Deity! The male dragon’s warning roared in Dianna’s skull.

  Dianna looked at the old woman. She was a goddess, like Madhea?

  The old woman turned up her chin, eyeing the dragon with a smirk. “I trust in the Elements, Tan’yi’na.” She leveled Dianna with a stern look. “Your dragon is injured. Will she harm my healers?”

  Relief swept through her as she turned to Lydra. “Please don’t harm them,” she beseeched, smoothing a hand down her snout.

  Lydra answered with a knowing grunt, followed by a heavy sigh. She focused on the dragon called Tan’yi’na, who was crawling toward them, his golden eyes turning dark chestnut. A low rumble escaped from his throat while he slithered behind the deity.

  Dianna bowed her head to the woman. “I thank you. She will not harm them.” Dianna cast Tan’yi’na a wary glance. “Will he try to hurt her again?”

  The old woman’s lips twisted, and she craned her neck toward the golden dragon. The dragon cowered.

  The deity slowly turned around with a confident smile. “No, he will not.” She nodded at one of the young women flanking her side. “See to the dragon’s injuries.” She held out a hand to Dianna, flashing a toothless grin. “Come, let us go to my underground city of Kyanu. You must be in need of rest and nourishment.”

  She took a hesitant step back, pressing up against Lydra. “Thank you, but I cannot leave her.”

  Tan’yi’na opened his wings, casting a shadow over the robed women, and stretching his neck until his massive head nearly pressed down on the deity’s tiny frame.