Writing in Public: Story 3, Scene 4
[image error]Dawn flared blood red across the horizon. The wind was cold blowing in off the sea when Grace and the two men started out in the rowboat, following along the coast line. The waves were choppy, making the little boat bounce and creak.
But it was the best time. The sea folk would be in the cave, sleeping, less alert.
Grace sat in the front, eyes on the water and trying not to think of the danger she was facing. She was dressed in her diving suit—a black sleeveless blouse and a loin cloth. She’d made it for herself, or she’d have to do the dives nude.
Behind her, Samuel manned the oars and Alexander had brought a pair of binoculars. Both men were silent, a grim cloud hovering over them. Samuel had brought a shotgun, too, down near his feet on the bottom boards.
“What’s the plan?” Alexander finally asked, his voice wavering. He was probably figuring out now how bad it was to volunteer.
Grace sometimes wished she hadn’t been volunteered for this. She’d been born a hunter and had no choice in the matter.
“I dive,” she said. “You pray.”
Her breath caught.
The hunter magic stirred inside her. She imagined it like a dragon, raising its great head. Looking around for prey.
“They’re here,” she said.
Samuel stopped rowing, going still. “Where?”
“Close,” she said. “They know we’re here.”
Silence fell over the little boat. The only sound was the water slopping against the sides.
Grace tried to follow the scent of the hunter magic. But all it knew was that the sea folk were near.
Then—
A hundred feet to the starboard side, a head popped up from under the water. It was gray like a sea gull and looked like it had been molded out of clay. A wide mouth sneered. Huge round eyes that didn’t seem real stared at them.
Water splashed behind Grace. The boat tipped precariously to port, knocking her back against the gunwale. The stink of decay nearly overwhelmed her.
The sea folk had grabbed the gunwale with clawed hands. Lord, it was strong!
“Take that!” Samuel yelled.
He swung his oar at the creature’s head. It contacted with a loud whap…and didn’t do a thing.
The creature opened its mouth, exposing two rows of sharp teeth and additional teeth on its tongue.
Grace launched over the side, plunging into the water. Cold instantly hit her body, snatching her breath.
But she’d done this before.
She kicked off the boat with her feet. Got behind the creature.
Her hunter magic snarled. And reached.
Began drinking in the life force of the sea folk.
The creature jolted up and screamed.
It released the boat and tried to dive.
“Oh, no, you don’t!”
Grace locked her arms around it from behind.
She took a breath right before the creature went under the water. It thrashed, trying to throw her off.
Clawed hands reached blindly behind.
But the hunter magic was cold and impersonal. It didn’t care. It just drank it all.
The creature’s struggles became weaker and weaker.
Stopped.
The hunter magic withdrew.
And flared immediately.
Pain scored down her leg. Dark blood clouded the water.
Another one had come up behind her.
No time to react…
Hands reached down from above and grabbed her arms. Pulled up and out of the water.
She fell into the boat, chest heaving. The air chilled her skin. She had a long gash up her thigh from the sea folk’s claws.
“Move it!” yelled Alexander. “They’re coming!”
Grace scrabbled to the starboard side.
Five heads. All eyeing the boat like it was a meal.
The oars splashed into water. Samuel put muscle into rowing. The tiny boat began to move.
And it wasn’t fast enough.
The shotgun blasted. Grace screamed and ducked her head.
When she looked up again, Alexander was lowering the shotgun. The sea folk scattered, diving under the water.
“That got us some time,” she said. “We have to get to safety.”
If there was any safety.
Filed under: Writing in Public Tagged: Fantasy Stories
