baleful yellow eye, then the other. Its mouth cracked enough to reveal three rows of palm-sized teeth, razor edged. But a school of puffer crabs chased it off, jetting through the water with little bursts and nipping claws at the gobdasher’s tail.
Tylar watched it flee through the forest. Farther away, movement caught his eye. Something shifted as the gobdasher passed. It made their recent visitor look like a minnowette. Tylar caught a brief glimpse of flailing tentacles, falling upon the gobdasher; then the sight vanished away as their pod descended farther into the depths.
Tylar knew what he had seen.
A miiodon… very likely the same one that had attacked the Grim Wash.
Kreel stirred from his place by the fire lamp. “The Reef,” he announced.
Tylar turned. A starscape sprawled below. Glow globes, fire lanterns, and natural phosphorescence mapped out small homes, towering villas, terraces, and courts. Crowning it all, a vast castillion blazed, appearing on fire from the number of lamps lining its parapets and towers.
Their pod dropped toward the tallest tower, dragged by a winding stalk that disappeared down its open throat.
As they drew nearer, figures appeared, limned in the city’s glow. They swam or floated among the buildings, which seemed to be constructed of the same sturdy material as their pod. A lone girl, arms laden with an empty net, glided through the waters with small flicks of her ankles and twists of her torso. She swept up to the pod.
Kreel noted her approach and made a keening sound that set Tylar’s teeth to throbbing. In response, the girl spun in place and with a swift kick of her legs sped away.
The pod reached the tower’s top and continued down its throat. All sight vanished to the sides. Overhead, the glowing opening retreated as they dropped into the depths of the castillion.
Heading to the dungeons, Tylar thought sourly.
After another moment, a rough bump shook the pod and almost knocked him on his backside. They had stopped. He glanced to his companions but found only worry in their expressions.
Tylar searched upward. The tiny circle of light vanished as a hatch pinched closed just overhead. Once sealed, a gurgling vibrated through the pod.
“They’re draining the water,” Delia whispered.
Bubbles danced all around the pod. In only a few breaths, the waterline trembled down the sides and disappeared away. As the gurgling ceased, a light bloomed to the right, outlining an open doorway. One of the pod’s petals peeled toward the new glow.
An empty passage awaited them.
Two of the Hunters hurried ahead and flanked the entry.
Kreel pointed his spear. “She awaits in the grotto.”
Tylar stepped out of the pod, leading his companions. The low passage was tubular with curving walls, lit by a vein of phosphorescence that ran along the ceiling. The air was damp but surprisingly warm, smelling of salt crust and algae.
They proceeded down the passage. Kreel kept a step behind them. Tylar felt his eyes on him, a dagger tickling his neck. He studied the pair of Hunters ahead of him.
One Hunter scratched a finger along his gill flaps, fluttering them, clearly dry and irritated. Their escorts had been out of the water a fair amount of time.
Tylar could not fathom why someone would choose this life for a child. The denizens of the Reef drank a special elixir when heavy with child, an alchemy of Graces from Fyla herself. It touched the growing babe in the womb, blessed its development. And though there were other folk that chose similar paths by imbibing godly elixirs when with child-producing loam-giants, fire walkers, and wind wraiths-at least these offspring still lived in the world of land and air. Why abandon the world above for such an isolated life below?
The passage ended at a translucent door. Brighter light from beyond set it aglow, but details remained murky. As they neared, the door parted, splitting in a perfect star pattern and withdrawing away in five sections.
A sweet billow washed over them. Tylar recognized it immediately.
The aroma of the tangleweed flower.
The two Hunters stepped through the open portal first, dropping to their knees just past the threshold. Kreel nudged Tylar with the tip of his spear.
Tylar entered a grotto of breathtaking beauty.
The space opened under an arched dome, large enough to hold all of Summer Mount and festooned with hanging plants, vines, and bright flowers. Light blazed from a single colossal fire lantern as wide as a man’s outstretched arms. It floated in the center of the dome’s space, unsupported, rolling and drifting gently over the landscape below.
Lit beneath it, pools and waterfalls graced walkways lined with flowers unlike any seen under the sun. Rather than growing from soil, their beds were streams and sculpted puddles. Flowers of every hue grew riotous among trees and leafy bushes. Some he recognized: honeybloom, jasper’s heart, wyldpetal, sea-dandle, and ghost palm. Most were unknown. Strange fruit hung from one fronded tree, appearing like yellow vipers, twisting and hanging from branches. Another tree’s leaves twinkled with a soft violet radiance.
Every glance held a new wonder.
Delia spoke at his shoulder, a whisper of a whisper. “The Sacred Grotto. It is said Fyla collects her botanicals from all over Myrillia, some even from the hinterlands.”
Tylar simply stared. He had never imagined such beauty under the seas.
Kreel waved them forward, never taking his eyes from Tylar.
They were led down the central path that wound into the heart of the grotto. The guards maintained a ring around them, Kreel at their backs.
All about, the babble and tinkle of water echoed. Passing over one bridge, Tylar happened to glance down and saw another of the Reef’s Hunters glide along the channel below. The spear in his hand was plain to see.
Rogger noted the same. “I have read of this place.” He waved an arm over his head. “This is but half of the garden. The other half lies beneath our feet, a maze of waterways and flooded caves. She could hide an entire army down there and we’d never know it.”
Tylar’s sense of wonder dimmed as his anxiety rose again.
They mounted a long bridge, one that arched in a graceful curve over a wide pond. The waters below teemed with sea life: from tiny tick eels to the sweep of giant mantai. Schools of fish silvered the waters as they shimmered and danced.
In the center of the pond rose a tall island surrounded by a white sand beach. The fire lantern hovered directly over its peak, shining upon the rich flora flowing over the cliffs and slopes. From its very top, a frothing spring jetted high into the air, then raced down its sides in rivulets and cascades back to the pond. The most dramatic course was a wide waterfall in front: a flow of molten silver fell sheer from the peak’s top into a small rocky basin at its base.
As they reached the bridge’s end, the two lead Hunters crossed their spears, barring the way onto the island. The green phosphorescence of their blessed weapons flared brighter.
Kreel called out, “We have done your duty, Mistress of the Reef. He who has been named Godslayer stands before you for judgment.”
The island remained quiet, except for the chatter of falling water. After several breaths, a voice finally answered, “Let him come forward.”
Delia dropped to her knees. “Fyla…”
The guards uncrossed their weapons.
Tylar stepped from the bridge to the sandy beach. Rogger moved to follow.
The voice stopped them both. “Only the godslayer.”
Tylar glanced to the thief. He saw Rogger’s hesitation and waved him back. “I’ll be fine.” He even felt a bit of confidence in this statement. He didn’t feel like he was going to die.
Still, a finger of dread traced his spine. He had met only two gods face-to-face in his short life: Jessup of Oldenbrook, to whom he had bent a knee in service as a Shadowknight, and Meeryn, who had died in his arms. But he had heard stories of various gods. Shadowknights talked among themselves after a few cups, sharing tales and
