An heirloom. Searching within herself, she had to find the strength to get back the only piece of her family. A stubborn determination slowly started to build as she looked to Memphis.
He was solemn but intense, as if waiting to see if she would back down. It was probably stupid of her not to.
She swam forward, taking deep breaths. You can do this.
The mouth of the tunnel swallowed her, and she didn’t look back. An oppressive silence filled her senses, and she had to squint to see five feet in front of her. But she pressed on, goosebumps covering her skin. Slick rock surrounded her, and the once golden sand was now black. Her gut was screaming at her to turn around, that this wasn’t right, but she pressed on.
Swimming around a tight corner, she avoided the jutted rock’s edge, but that’s when Emory felt it. A change in the water that felt like charges had been turned on, creating a pulsing electric current. Stopping, she floated, listening intensely. Nothing. Her breath came in sick huffs, panic chewing at her. She hated the darkness.
The strange pulsing current started faster like her own personal tribal drum calling her and beckoning her closer.
Slowly, she turned her head to look ahead and was met by sharp gleaming teeth, saggy green skin, sparse inky hair, and eyes that were opaque. The creature sniffed at her, creating bubbles between them. Instead of limbs, it had long tentacles and crawled toward her, snapping its teeth. It had caught her scent.
Frantically, Emory clawed her hands back, reaching for her bow. The creature cocked its head at the movement. The nightmarish specimen lashed out, moving far too fast for her human eyes to take in. Slimy tentacles wrapped around her midriff, tightening around her, and she was reeled in. Kicking and screaming, Emory tried to escape, but it only made the creature hold tighter.
The only problem was that no one could hear her.
Its blind eyes swiveled side-to-side as an ancient voice rattled, “Your scent...is one I recognize...from long ago...when these waters...were considered...sacred. Who...are you?”
Each word was drawn out and dragged as if the monster wasn’t sure if she was a friend or foe. Again, it cocked its mostly bald head at her, waiting for an answer. The blasted oxygen masked was in her way though, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“Noooo? That’s...a shame. It has been...a long...time since...a warrior swam...these tunnels. I will be...sorry...to end you.”
No, no, no!
More tentacles wrapped around her legs and arms, binding them and her will. This was it. Emory stared at its gleaming teeth, its rotting skin, and she was pulled down toward her death. Closer and closer she came until its long eel like tongue caressed her cheek, tasting her. She was truly sobbing now.
Cringing away, Emory pressed her eyes closed, saying a silent plea, and then a blaze of light warmed her eyelids, making her world a pale red for a second. Then she was dropped.
Eyes flying open, she saw the creature hissing at the light around them, backing away in the shadows and its algae like skin peeling as if it had been burned. She hung suspended in the water, and Memphis emerged in her vision, his bloody hand pressed against the wall, millions upon millions of carvings acting like personal suns swirling and dancing in sync.
His eyes were wide and panicked, his chest heaving as his voice rang through her mind, loud and clear, “Behind you there is a chest where that thing was. Grab it now!”
She swiveled and spotted a beautifully engraved small chest, practically blending in with the sand. Diving, she willed her muscles to move, taking deep gulps of oxygen. Her fingers wrapped around it, and she was surprised it wasn’t bigger than her palm.
A roar cut through the water, making it ripple, and Memphis mentally shouted, “Hurry!”
Cutting through the water faster than she thought was possible, Emory was about halfway to him when the Commander let go of the wall, and they were spun into inky darkness. Disoriented, she faltered but familiar arms wrapped around her and dragged her with him.
“Swim, Emory, swim!”
Her muscles were on fire, burning and cramping. There was another roar from behind them, but they climbed upward out of the cave’s mouth. That was too close. An earth shattering bellow shook around them once more just as they shot out of the tunnel.
“Thieves!” the merman shouted. He had waited at the entrance, sword pointed at their chests.
Memphis turned to face him, his body taut, and the only indication of him taking action that Emory could see was a twitch of his eye, and then the merman’s grey eyes rolled in the back of his head and he dropped, unconscious. Gripping her hand, Memphis yanked her hard, climbing toward the currents and to their escape.
What had that thing been? Her revulsion and shock caught up with her, making her stomach churn. The current caught their bodies, shooting them up and through another darkened tunnel. Fear pierced through her, her imagination running rampant, and she waited to feel the tentacles wrapping around her once more.
She had almost died. Memphis had willingly drawn her down there like a moth to a flame. He had risked her life to gain whatever was in the box.
Upward and upward, they spun, as her anger grew. Right about when she thought she was going to be sick, they were spat out into the calm lake, golden sand and all. Memphis didn’t falter and cut through the rose gold water, climbing for the surface.
Emory only focused on the dappled light and the whirling clouds of the clearing. She forced her limbs to comply. Water rained down around them when they burst through, resurfacing. Ripping the mask off her face with a giant squelching noise, she gulped in the refreshing air. Letting go of Memphis’s hand, she paddled for shore and lifted herself on the
