When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (books under 200 pages txt) 📗

faster through the water than his ability to swim, but he'd find the knowledge of the earth below his feet for the first time in longer than he recalled reassuring.

Reassuring means nothing if I'm dead.

Despite his intent not to, Teryk stole a glance over his shoulder. A long, smooth line bisected the waves behind him, curving side to side like a dark river flowing through the surface of the sea. It stretched out to the length of many men, but nowhere near the size of the God of the Deep he'd seen looming when the Whalebone met its end.

Not a god, but a fish looking to feed.

He redoubled his efforts, focusing on the shore ahead.

I'm the chosen. The firstborn of the rightful king.

He clamped his jaw tight enough it hurt his teeth, but the panic at the hungry creature behind him forced the discomfort from his mind. He did as Trenan taught, plunging his face into the frigid water as he swam, turning his head to draw breath every fourth stroke. When he looked up again, he spied Rilum splashing toward him, not too far off, in the water up to his waist.

Teryk paused his kicking, letting his feet sink until his soles touched. The sea reached to his mid-chest, but the softness of the sandy bottom under him made him forgo swimming as the better alternative. He churned his legs under the surface, pumped his arms. Silty sand flowed from beneath his toes, slowing him, and the ocean greeted him with great resistance.

"Swim, Taylor! Swim," Rilum hollered, his voice plain now Teryk wasn't splashing and stroking. The desperation in his tone suggested the nearness of his pursuer.

He knew he shouldn't look back, should plunge into the water once more and kick toward his companion as fast as possible. But knowing and doing are different things, and he glanced over his shoulder once more despite the knowledge. The top of the serpent's head stuck out above the surface, the bulbous eyes set atop it fixed on the prince. In the brief instant their gazes met, he saw hunger blazing in them.

Teryk spun toward shore, lurched forward and kicked as hard as his tired legs allowed. Salty water went up his nose, onto his tongue, in his eyes. His feet churned the sea, and he sensed the beast closing on him, the bubbles of its exhalations heating the ocean at his heels. In his mind, his progress ceased, as though something grasped him by the ankles, preventing his escape so the monster might catch him.

It swims faster than I do; why hasn't it caught me?

He didn't mean to ponder the question—his focus should have been on escaping intact—but knowing so didn't stop it from entering his head. Any creature made for swimming could do it swifter than he, yet he'd stayed ahead of the serpent as its coils slid through the waves without resistance. It followed him so far and held back its attack.

A firm grip took him by the wrist; his first reaction was to pull away but, when he did, he felt no razor teeth dig into his flesh. Instead, fingers tightened their hold and pulled him along.

Teryk raised his chin to find Rilum holding onto him, propelling him forward, pushing a wave ahead of them and leaving a wake behind. The prince stopped kicking and contorted to get his feet on the ocean floor again, stumbling and twisting as he did. In his effort, he glanced back, saw the serpent swimming with its head and neck out of the water, mouth open revealing three rows of small, sharp-looking teeth. The length of four men separated them.

He found his footing and stumbled along beside the sailor, Rilum's hand gripping his wrist. The sea receded around them, moving from waist to mid-thigh, to knees. How shallow did they need to be before they reached safety?

With waves lapping at his calves, Teryk heard powerful jaws snapping shut. His muscles tensed, awaiting the pain he expected to follow, but none did. When the water touched only as high as their ankles, he looked back again as Rilum continued pulling him toward the beach.

The creature writhed, its thick body half-submerged, but its forward progress halted; shallow water prevented it from swimming any closer. The serpent-fish snapped its jaws again and again, the small, sharp teeth clicking together, but it made no other noise.

With seawater covering the top of his feet, Teryk stopped and pulled his arm from Rilum's grasp. The sailor took two more steps then halted, joining his companion in staring at the monstrosity. It gnashed its fangs once more, raised its wide head in the manner of a land snake readying to strike. The prince faltered back from it, thinking it might do exactly that. His feet tangled, and he fell on his backside, splashing in the shallow water and jarring his teeth. The serpent twisted its body and slammed its length against the ocean's surface like an angry, petulant child. Salty water sprayed into the air as it flicked its tail and slid away, disappearing into the ocean with the smallest of ripples.

Teryk sat with waves washing around him. He drew heavy breaths and waited for his thumping heart to slow, and Rilum let him. When he heard the splash of his companion's steps carrying him out of the sea, the prince tore himself from his trance. He climbed to his feet, fingers sinking into sugary sand as he pushed himself up, then turned to follow the sailor. He took one step before the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

A beach made up of sand so white it threatened to blind him in the afternoon sun stretched out to his left and right. When his eyes grew accustomed, he saw lightning bolts of black streaked through it at irregular intervals. Teryk plodded forward, feet splashing in the shallow