The Lust of Horns

AQULE I

It was easier to just take the plunge and get it over with; that was something Marina would've done. But I was not as careless as my sister, nor as courageous. Instead, I knelt and slowly dipped my right foot into the water. The cold struck like a thousand needles. After I'd grown numb to the pain, I sat on the cold, biting stone, and submerged my left foot in. It was slow moving from there, holding myself steady as my legs and buttocks went next, followed by my torso and neck. I cried out with each icy shock. But after five minutes of bobbing, I tingled, and the salt was burning my flesh, healing the aches and pains in my body.

'This is not so bad,' I whispered, sliding my hands down my slippery frame.

Once submerged, I always found my sense of peace. It was just getting wet that made me hesitant. But why? I am a Corlandian... I should not fear the blue. And yet, I didn't. Not the blue, but what lurked within it. It was just over three years ago that we fled from the isles, though the nightmares of the Sqek, and their assault on my people, was still a fresh wound that was easily reopened.

I took a breath of sharp, icy air lifting off the surface, cooling the inside of my chest.

The sun stayed hidden behind an endless sea of clouds in the sky ocean. Never warming the waters here like the ocean surrounding the Bright Isles. I often wondered if that's why our blessings were few; The Corlandian Gods could not swim through the haze to answer our prayers. I prayed nonetheless.

'Please, watch over me,' I whispered, then slipped below the surface

The icy shock to my face wasn't near as fierce as the one to my body. I touched my cheeks gently massaging along the ridges, across my forehead, the bridge of my nose, over and inside my ears, and around my chin, ensuring each tiny crevice filled with salt. The burn came shortly after, followed by the cool, healing sensation. I resurfaced, and with a gentle whip of my head, slapped my blonde strands against my back.

Clean, I then reached for the stony edge-

It happened in a blur; a great tug on my right ankle. Before I could draw breath, I sank towards the seabed, arms outstretched, reaching towards the hazy film above that marked the surface. Deeper and deeper I was sinking. The weight of the ocean pushed against my body. Helpless, I tried to kick. The grip around my ankle tightened, and though I was slick, jerking and kicking, whatever held on did not slip nor flounder. It wrenched and tugged harder, pulling me deeper into the hazy blue.

I opened my eyes, unaware I'd closed them. The salt that was so healing caused them to burn. Blinded by the haze, I peered downward to see my captive, expecting to see a twisted corpse hanging on with its slippery appendage. And yet all I saw were hundreds of small and large circular pockets of air that moved around me, heading to the surface to pop and die.

I pulled my left leg upward, and with my last bit of will, brought it down with the force and speed of a sinking anchor. There came a thud. A gurgle. And a feeling of weightlessness; my ankle was freed. I looked to the surface, unable to find where it broke. But it didn't matter. I need to swim!

I brought my legs together and extended my arms overhead, bringing my hands to a point. It only took three lateral, wavelike movements to get my body to push away from the abyss. In less than three seconds I'd shot up twenty feet, breaking the surface with a group of bubbles. I gasped for air. On the second breath, I filled my lungs in fear of being taken back under.

When a second pull did not come, I looked to the nearest edge of the pool and paddled. Each breath I took was heavy and sporadic. My hands found the stony edge and as I pushed myself upward, my ears caught a noise at my back. Not a threatening hiss or haunting shriek, No. But a mocking giggle that seemed to echo and enhance off the cave walls.