No. Wasting powers like yours is stupid. If you joined us, we could rule all the waters in the world.
Yeah, because turning my powers over to some ugly-ass sea witch with delusions of grandeur makes so much more sense than fighting you. Besides, she should give up the whole recruitment thing. It didn’t happen when she killed my mom, and it’s not going to happen now.
Tempest, we could help you.
I don’t want your help. I was also circling now, so that the two of us were mirroring each other’s movements as we faced off—each shifting in an effort to keep the other in our sights.
Everything inside of me demanded that I attack now, lashing out while he was still trying to talk me into joining his side of the fight. But, again, Jared’s training raised its head and I knew I had to stay alert, wary, be ready to deflect his move, which meant I couldn’t strike first. It had ended up working out all right with Scylla, but only because her attention had been fractured. Sabyn was focused entirely on me and I knew one wrong motion would mean my death. The smile on his face told me that he would enjoy every second of ripping me apart.
So we continued to circle. For long, endless, exhausting minutes, we spun, each waiting for the other to make a move. I was growing antsy, freaking out a little. Mahina still hadn’t moved, hadn’t said a word.
Every instinct I had, every ounce of friendship inside of me, screamed to look at her, to check on her even if it was only visually. But I knew that as soon as I did, as soon as I glanced away, that one moment of inattention would be the end of me. I resisted the pull, stayed focused on Sabyn.
That intense focus was the only thing that saved my life.
When Sabyn struck, it wasn’t the in-your-face assault I was used to. Wasn’t silver arrows or massive blasts of power. Instead, it was subtle, insidious. At least at first.
The water around me began to churn, to spin. I thought it was a rogue wave coming through, spurred by the amount of power concentrated in such a small area. But then I realized the movement wasn’t just natural current. The water was actually spinning around me, creating a whirlpool effect that began turning faster and faster, locking me in place.
I tried to back away, to stumble through it, but it moved with me in ever constricting circles, spinning so fast that the centrifugal force made it almost impossible for me to get enough water into my gills to breathe. The world was going gray, and I knew I had to do something fast if I was to have any chance at all, but the lack of oxygen—combined with the clawing panic rising inside of me—made it almost impossible to strategize.
Not so tough now, little Tempest, are you? Sabyn taunted me. And this is just the beginning. It only gets worse from here—unless you want to put a stop to it. All you have to do is join us and this can go away.
As he spoke, the whirlpool got tighter and tighter until I swear I could feel, not just the water, but also Sabyn’s fingers around my neck, strangling me. Come on, Tempest. The whisper sounded in my ear even though he was several feet away. Swear your allegiance to Tiamat, to me, and all will be forgiven. If you ask nicely, I might even let your little pet human go home.
What about Kona? I could barely get out the words.
Sabyn’s hands felt like they were wrapped around my head now, crushing my gills, truly preventing me from breathing. I clawed at them, tried to pry them away, but it was impossible because in reality, there was nothing tangible there. Only the sensation of being strangled, plus the knowledge that time was running out.
You see, Kona and me, we go way back, Sabyn said. And I must admit, I have some scores to settle with him. I won’t lie—it’s going to be a lot of fun watching him die. But that doesn’t mean poor little Mark has to die too. I have nothing against him. Of course, it’s kind of hard to hate him when all he does is lie there like a vegetable. Sabyn laughed. Which he’ll be, very soon. I think he’s only got about an hour of oxygen left in the tank Tiamat found him. Even if you tried to get him out of here … Sabyn shook his head. It’s a long way to the surface.
I shuddered in horror and fear, which only made Sabyn laugh louder. He was so sure of himself, so proud of the way he and Tiamat planned on exterminating two of the people I cared about most in the world. Not to mention Mahina, who was lying at my feet and who might very well be dead right now.
Rage burned in my gut, a blind, red-hot fury that Sabyn was doing all of this. Sabyn, whom the merQueen had trusted. Sabyn, whom I had trusted—for a little while anyway.
The anger gave me strength I wouldn’t have otherwise had, strength to stop fighting the whirlpool, to stop struggling for air, to just relax into it. It was obvious that Sabyn felt my sudden surrender and was instantly suspicious—I could feel it in the way his body tensed, see it in the wary look in his eyes as he watched me.
But it was too late. All his bragging, his pride, had given me the one-second opening I needed. My hands dropped away from my gills, and in a couple seconds I managed to yank enough electricity from the ocean to power a small city. Then I reached for him, all trembly and submissive, and he was stupid enough to lower his guard a second time.
That’s when I struck, pumping thousands of volts of electricity—via lightning—straight into his chest, directly at his heart.
He didn’t have a clue what hit him.
Chapter 33
The whirlpool didn’t so much die down as explode outward when Sabyn stumbled back, clutching his chest. As the water seethed and roiled around us, I watched, completely dispassionate, as he fell to the floor of the ship. And then I hit him with another blast, one that ripped right through him, charring flesh even as it split the skin of his abdomen wide open.
It was a truly gruesome sight, but I didn’t flinch. I don’t know if that said something about who he was … or who I was becoming.
Quickly backing away, I hauled Mahina up and threw her over my shoulder as I moved toward the door, not willing to turn my back on Sabyn for a second. He might be down but he wasn’t necessarily out—I’d been around sea creatures long enough to know how that went.
And sure enough, just as we reached the hatch, the door slammed shut. The waves caused by the abrupt motion bounced and pinged off everything, including me. They were strong enough, and I was just off-balance enough carrying Mahina, that they slammed me into a wall. My concentration wavered for only a second, but like what had happened with Sabyn, the lapse was just long enough for him to strike.
He chose a high-pitched vibration that filled the entire engine room, oscillating off all of the metal and filling the water with a noise so piercing and shrill that it was impossible to bear. I screamed, slammed my hands to my ears, but it didn’t seem to matter. The vibration wasn’t just outside anymore. It was inside of my head, violently shaking me apart.
I dropped to my knees in an effort to escape the sound. I wanted it to stop, needed it to stop, but since I had no idea how Sabyn was doing it, I couldn’t even begin to think of how to counter. Of course, that was assuming I would ever be able to think again. Because right now, the only idea running through my head was the fear that my brain was literally going to explode. Already, I could feel blood, thick and viscous, leaking out of my ears. As I wiped at it, I wondered vaguely if this meant that my eardrums had burst or if something more serious was going on. I knew I should be concerned, but the noise made it impossible to do more than formulate that emotion in theory.