Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Hopeful, I followed the path he’d taken, entering a vast chamber filled with awe-inspiring treasures salvaged from sunken vessels. Towering shelves and low pedestals displayed relics pulled from the deep. Jeweled goblets crusted with salt, shattered crowns fused back together with gold seams, navigational instruments frozen mid-calculation.
But it was coins that dominated the space. Mountains of them.
Ancient, foreign, and mismatched. Gold stamped with forgotten emblems, edges worn smooth by centuries of currents. They glittered softly under the bioluminescent glow, not polished to perfection but burnished by survival.
Oh, my stars. The dragon in me pleaded to hoard, hoard, hoard. “This is… I can’t even…”
Sebastian stood before a series of open wooden trunks with his hands in the pockets of his pants, watching me as I flitted from this selection of coins to that selection, exclaiming with wonder. The dragon purred with excitement.
“Kraken have a natural urge to claim their wealth,” he told me. “From the sea, from history, from the bones of empires.”
Once, twice, a dozen times, I almost reached out to trace my fingertips over the collection. “They’re so beautiful.” Had I slurred my words?
“I thought you might like these.” He grinned, more big bad wolf than vengeful kraken. “Go ahead. Touch.”
“Seriously?” Squealing, I dove my fingers into a mess of heavy trade coins. They were thick, irregular discs stamped with tide-marks and crowned beasts rather than the usual faces.
The mysterious berserker beside me had grown still. “What?” I asked, craning my face to look at him.
“Nothing.”
Nein, not nothing. “You’re smiling.”
He canted his head. “Am I?”
Nervous now and not sure why, I began to ramble. “Dragons are collectors by nature. I’ve been drawn to gold coins my whole life. At home, I store the bulk of my assortment in an underground cavern, but I keep a bowl of them on my nightstand. Nothing grand. Just one coin from every dragon province where I’ve danced. Proof I was there, I suppose.”
He absorbed my words, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind.
Lady Harpa’s warning surfaced. How he remembered everything and forgot nothing. I thought he might be adding details to the mental file labeled All Things Bronwyn and hid a grin.
“Did you know kraken and dragons once worked together?” he asked. “Above us, beyond the dome that protects my realm, are islands where the dragons lived. They used their fire to make gold, which drew the attention of humans. The kraken destroyed the ships, ensuring those humans never reached the islands, and in thanks, the dragons dropped gold into the ocean.”
I’d heard stories, certainly, but I hadn’t known we were so close to history. It made the dome’s enclosure a little less restrictive. But. Hmm. The coins began to hum faintly, a low vibration climbing my arms.
I chuckled. Dragon gold sang like this too, a resonance only my kind could feel, the metal remembering the fire that created it. Giddier by the second, I pressed my palm flatter against the pile, chasing the sensation. Hello, old friends.
Except, I also heard tapping. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. It cut through my thrill. Different from coins, coming from somewhere above. Like a servant at a door. Someone come to fetch us, perhaps, or announce the next wing of the gallery?
My ears twitched toward it. A second later, Sebastian went rigid.
Something was wrong.
Rubbing the dome-rune on his chest, he jerked his gaze up. Cold fury coated his features as a strange glow began to seep through his clothing.
I followed his stare and realized I’d let the coins overshadow instinct. Hundreds of merfolk covered the dome, their bodies long and powerful, scaled in iridescent hues that shifted between oil-slick black, venomous green, and bruised violet. Webbed hands ended in talons and gripped the surface with ease.
Their faces were beautiful but unsettling, with eyes too large, pupils slit, and mouths lined with rows of fine, translucent teeth that caught the light as they hissed down at us.
Many wore harnesses of bone and coral, embedded with glowing runes, similar to Sebastian’s, while others wielded massive, trident-like tools that pulsed with pressure and light.
Then the tapping stopped and a shudder ran down my back.
One beat.
Two.
A coordinated crew surged forward. They brandished long, dark armaments I couldn’t identify, striking the structure in perfect rhythm. Each impact reverberated through the dome above us. With every blow, fractures spiderwebbed across the glassy surface. One crack became three. Three became dozens. The jagged lines raced outward with terrifying speed, branching and connecting. A water droplet fell, hitting me on the cheek.
This was a siege.
I braced for battle, claws extending from my fingertips. Though I’d never fought, I had the training.
Sebastian dove for me, trying to shelter me as the dome shattered, thousands of pounds of water flooding upon us in an instant.
Chapter
Eleven
Be aware: gifts are contracts in disguise. No exceptions.
–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival