Cold spray splashed over the bow, and the tattered sails stretched tight as Iyomelka lashed the storm winds like unbroken horses to drive her vessel. The moss-covered hull boards—held together by barnacles, starfish, and a weave of seaweed—groaned under the strain. The prow of antler coral stretched forward beneath an oblong sea-serpent skull she had recently incorporated as a figurehead. Reptilian vertebrae adorned the keel like a line of ivory bosses.
She did not sleep. Somewhere out on that open water she would find the Al-Orizin and the reckless interlopers who had stolen Ystya. Her foolish and naïve daughter had been sheltered all her life from the outside world. The girl did not fully understand what she represented, nor did Captain Saan, who had kidnapped her.
When they encountered the Father of All Serpents, she had never expected Ystya to discover her own powers, and the girl’s demonstration only reinforced Iyomelka’s determination to retrieve her. She had to use any means possible.
As her ship pounded through the waves without regard to natural currents or trade winds, she pressed her palms against the crystal coffin that held her husband’s preserved body. “We will get her back, Ondun.”
Immersed in magical water from the island spring, the old man looked serene and placid, his long gray hair and beard forming a corona about his head. He looked so different from the time when she had hated him, when he had drowned in the deep well. Immortals had so much time to change their minds and live with their regrets.…
After her disastrous indiscretion with Mailes, Iyomelka had gone through the motions, trying to repair her relationship with her husband. But when she found herself pregnant with Ondun’s child—a wondrous occurrence for their dwindling race—she knew that her happiness would never be the same. Unable to remain in Terravitae with Ondun, especially after what he did to Mailes, she fled, seeking refuge far away on an uncharted island. But he sent their sons out to search the whole world, and eventually came after her himself, determined to find the daughter on whom so much hope rested. When Ondun finally reached the hidden island, Iyomelka begged him to stay with her and be happy, to let the world manage itself.
Isolated for centuries or millennia (she didn’t even know which), they had lived as a contented family. Together, Ondun and Iyomelka always remained young, and Ystya never grew beyond a child. That had worked for a long, long time, but nothing—even love—could last as long as eternity.
Oh, Iyomelka had had plenty of time to regret her actions. It had been unwise for her to drown him. With Ondun gone, the island’s spring dried up, and she and the girl began to age. Although Captain Saan and his men had indeed restored the flow of water and retrieved Ondun’s preserved body, she could never be grateful to the Al-Orizin sailors.
Only if she retrieved her daughter, reunited her family, returned to the isolated island, and recreated their idyllic times would the fabric of destiny be repaired. Iyomelka could not ignore the romantic sop and his infatuation with the girl he did not understand at all. Captain Saan had to be punished, crushed, and brushed away like an annoying gnat.…
As the spectral ship sliced through the water, Iyomelka pressed herself against Ondun’s coffin and stared down at his waxen face. In the faint reflection, she caught a glimpse of her own features, the years sloughed away, her vibrant youth restored from the old crone she had been. It reminded her of when her race on Terravitae had been so much stronger.…
“I will call upon all of my magic, my love—but you must help me. We need to stop that other ship.”
Closing her eyes as tightly as she could, squeezing her thoughts into a loud summons, Iyomelka penetrated the cold dark waters and awakened things that had been asleep for eons.
She called the Kraken from the depths and sent it after the Al-Orizin.