Furthermore, when Gneil tried to signal that the warriors should also seek the safety of the shore, they in turn refused to acknowledge his orders, as unwilling to abandon the high cleric as he was to abandon the ark.
“Noble idiots,” I cursed. “Benin, Bekkit—how’s that magic solution coming along?”
They muttered and didn’t respond, deeply focused in a debate about the best way of dealing with the situation. I wanted to scream at Benin to just wade in there and pick up my ark, but the memory of my own crippling fear of the surface world—laughable to Ket, but downright terrifying to me—made me bite my tongue. Besides, things were tense enough already. At least one of us had to remain calm.
“I’m going back in there,” I said to Ket. “We need to see what we’re dealing with.”
“Be careful.”
Whatever was in the water couldn’t hurt me in god’s-eye form, and probably couldn’t even damage my gem if it got hold of it. Still, Ket’s anxiety was starting to affect me as well, and I was tense as I slipped beneath the water for the third time.
It seemed even more threatening than it had before. The dark water and the knowledge that something was picking off my denizens had me jumping at every sign of movement. Though it was only shallow, it was like a different world beneath the water.
The memory of Grimrock’s deep-water monstrosity rising to devour my sinkhole boulderskin rose unbidden, and I shuddered.
I floated amongst the legs of my warriors over to where the carpenters were still attempting to fix the wagon, despite my orders to retreat. Despite the recent attack on Dovetail, there didn’t seem to be anything lurking beneath the chariot. I passed through one of the shroomtree-cap wheels—
—and came face to face with a monster.
Black scales glinted metallic in the faint gray light that filtered through from above. Red eyes gleamed, a glowing band of crimson around a deep black pupil like portals to the hells. Triangular teeth zigzagged around the entrance of a perpetually open mouth.
Dire Fangfin
Fish
The spawn of a dire fangfin queen. The fangfin’s teeth are strong but hollow, allowing them to siphon the blood from the flesh they pierce before tearing it apart for consumption. This is so as not to alert competing species, such as black piranha, to the presence of fresh food.
A distant relative of the tigerfish, the fangfin usually dwells in the silty river waters of jungles and tropical rainforests, though this particular specimen was encountered in the River Emon in Kelaria.
Tropical rainforests? This fish was far, far from home. I distantly recalled thinking the same thing about the mole-rats we’d fought, which the Augmentary had claimed were usually desert creatures.
Another fangfin flashed past on my other side, followed by a third, and then the water was alive with deadly shadows. A carpenter’s tool floated past as Groove was dragged under the chariot and immediately lost beneath a fury of flashing scales and thrashing tailfins.
“Benin!” I yelled, bursting from the water. “Help them!” If he’d just go in and carry the ark across, the warriors and Gneil would follow.
But the mage was staring at the churning red water. “I’m not going in there!”
We’d already doubled our entire exodus’s casualty count, and more were sure to follow once the fish were done devouring my poor carpenter.
I considered inspiring Gneil to order the unfurling of the skynet, but there’d be no way to use it now the creatures were in amongst the gnomes. If I’d thought of it earlier, we could have used the net to rope off a safe crossing area and avoided this whole situation. I’d praised myself for being cautious despite the present urgency, yet I hadn’t even considered that we might face danger from the water itself.
The gnomes have been fishing and bathing here for almost two days. Why are we only now under attack?
Unlike the venomous stings of the marsh creatures, the badgers were not immune to these teeth. The fangfins had foregone their whole blood-siphoning thing and instead seemed to have entered a feeding frenzy. Those that couldn’t find a place amongst the ravening school beneath the chariot spread out, attacking gnomes and badgers indiscriminately, and tendrils of red soon stained the murky water.
Even stolid Bruce was beginning to lose it. The whites of his eyes were showing and he shifted in his yoke, on the very knife-edge of going berserk.
A thrashing shape darted through the warriors and tore a chunk from the badger’s flank. Near-submerged in bloody water, being eaten alive by unseen enemies, and the stench of blood rising from the water finally broke Bruce’s domestication and triggered his animal instincts. The badger snarled and threw himself forward, desperate to escape the water. The yoke held him back, and he strained and heaved, even snapping at the gnomes around him who tried to help.
With a splintering crack, Bruce broke the yoke. The badger barreled toward the safety of the bank and kept running once he reached the other side, his wet fur stained with blood. I saw Pan break away from the other children to run after him, chased by Emrys, and I knew Bruce was in safe hands.
Bruce’s breakout had left a long crack down the front of the outer frame, and the chariot was filling with water. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if not for the emberfox. She’d been huddled behind the ark this entire time, and I’d forgotten she was even there. Recognizing the danger, Gneil lifted her up and placed her carefully on the chariot’s outer frame, the highest point. But another crack, this time from the
