29
Kaylin
I jump to the side of the path, letting the others pass, counting the seconds until Ash catches up. But Belair brings up the rear and there’s no sign of her.
I bolt back to the beach, willing my sight to cut through the fog, searching, listening with every fiber of my being for her breath, her heartbeat. Her screams? The tall columns wobble as the ground continues to shake. “Ash, where are you?” I shout, turning a full circle. I should not have let go of her hand.
Then I find her. She’s close to the sea, frozen to the spot as a dark, contorted creature clings to her chest, raking claws trying to find purchase. I fly toward her as it burrows and squirms, diving headfirst down her mouth until an ear-splitting scream rips through the air. It’s answered by the erupting mountain, the boom knocking me off my feet. I rise and leap toward Ash, but with each stride, the shade disappears farther down her throat. Then she stills, tips her head back, and cries out, but not in fear. This time she unleashes a fury that all but splits the mountain in half.
A shockwave slaps me down again, face first into slabs of stone. I find my feet in time to see what my mind can’t make sense of. The shade is gone but with Ash’s next scream comes a rain of red mist. It flies over the columns, hovers, and then falls back down. I look closer as each drop turns into a tiny red flower that quickly goes black like charred ash. The uncanny petals touch down on the sea before melting into the tide.
“Ash?” I call as I reach her.
She’s choking, coughing. I drop to her side and wrap my arms around her tight. She buries her face in my chest, bits of charred petals lighting on our hair, water washing around our folded legs. “Come, lass,” I whisper. “We must get off the isle.”
When she doesn’t respond, I sweep her into my arms and run faster than any lander can move. I don’t slow my pace until we are within sight of the others. Belair is waist deep in the surf, pointing the bow of the boat toward the incoming waves which have doubled in size. Tyche and Piper are onboard, faces stricken. Samsen’s at the oars. Marcus holds the stern. They are tossed about in the choppy swell while streams of molten lava appear out of the fog, flowing down the mountain’s arms straight toward us.
“Row!” I call out, bounding to the boat. I push Ash over the railing and into Piper’s outstretched hands.
“What’s happened?” Marcus bellows.
I don’t even try to answer. “Get in.”
While Marcus and Belair scramble up the sides, I shove off, rowing the boat into the oncoming waves. Soaked and shaking, they man the other oars. I pull hard, using more strength than I should, but they have their heads down, not noticing how the wooden oars nearly crack in my grip. Ash is unconscious, but her breathing is slow and deep, as if sleeping. She has scratches on her face and chest, but other than that, is unharmed.
“Unharmed?” she asks me, her eyes opening brightly. “I feel…” She sits up, flexes and rolls her shoulders. “I’m fine. Give me an oar.” She joins me on the bench and heaves to. With her added strength, which seems more than substantial considering what just happened, we pass the breakers in seconds and head back to the Dugong, leaving the island smoldering behind us.
But waves of emotion roll through my body, and I can’t stop shaking. “What in the demon’s darkness attacked you back there?”
In my mind, clear as spring, she replies, “Funny. I was hoping you could tell me.”