The Destiny Detour

Granpulpo

Drake

Granpulpo's sharp, snapping beak was eager to rip them in half. Being eaten was the original plan, but the eating wasn't supposed to lead to crushing death from tentacles with the power to pulverize ships. Granpulpo's massive mouth was big enough to swallow food whole, but it preferred its food dead, Drake imagined, especially when it was in the habit of consuming man-eating fish that could do some real damage chomping around inside.

Lungs burning, Drake jammed an elbow into the squishy tentacle pinning him and forced it back just long enough to jab a knife into the crushing arm. The annoyance to Granpulpo was no more than being stabbed with a toothpick, but it did change its grip and shove Drake and Rosaliy all at once toward its mouth. Drake kicked back reflexively at the massive beak when it brushed his leg, just as Rosaliy managed to get a grip on the ball activating the dome.

She dropped to her knees and gasped in air while the beak and tentacles in range of the protective bubble slid through harmlessly. Confused by its disappearing prey, the octopus sent more tentacles to assist, finding the hard shell of the bubble.

Powerful arms grabbed for the dome, the impact knocking Drake off his feet and sending him crashing into Rosaliy. She grabbed hold of him as the beast buffeted them one way and another, shoving them repeatedly to its beak in a vain attempt to pry open the hard shell of its confusing prey. This animal was accustomed to crushing ships like they were sand, but, thankfully, the protective enchantment proved too strong for it.

With one last monstrous effort, the octopus wedged the dome firmly in its hard, grasping maw, each side of its beak straining against the sides of the dome while Rosaliy and Drake watched—paralyzed in some mix of wonder and terror. If the dome gave out, they would be crushed. If Granpulpo spat them out, they would be stranded at sea.

Then the straining stopped. There was a rush of water implying a flurry of movement. The octopus must have been able to resist the pull of the stone inside Quita no more, at least Drake could hope. With Rosaliy and Drake still wedged in its beak, it gathered up its tentacles and shot through the dark water.

Rosaliy relinquished her hold on Drake, although the dome was now tipped sideways, creating a mass of angled sides forcing them both to a single spot. "Did we—?" She finally broke the silence. "Are we—? Are you alive? Am I alive?"

Drake patted his arms and legs. All intact.

Rosaliy shifted to wrap her arms around her body. "Any chance we're headed to Flifary Island?"

Drake had no compass stashed on him, and he doubted such a tool would give him a clue, since no one knew where the island was in the first place.

"Right," she said, like he had voiced any of those thoughts. "I guess when Granpulpo stops moving, we'll be...somewhere."

That seemed like a helpful attitude. "If it's any consolation," he offered, "that went better than I was expecting."

She chuckled next to him in the dark. "I'd ask what you were expecting, but I don't want the answer to that question."

They lapsed into an eerie silence. No matter how either of them adjusted, they both slid back into each other down the smooth, curved side of the dome, so they gave up and huddled smashed together in the dark. While transferring a knife to the other side of his body so it would not jab Rosaliy, Drake ran into the jar in his pocket.

"Why were you stealing healing potion from the pirates?" he asked.

Rosaliy groaned, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. "You'll laugh," came the muffled reply.