Tidespeople.
Tidespeople.
The word circled me like a storm of its own. My heart pounded at the sound of it, racing in my fingertips. The crowd around me dropped away to nothing.
No one stirred, repeating the realization again and again like that would make it any better, but then the village burst to life. People bolted away, shouting for their families. Some raced to gather weapons. I could do nothing but watch, my feet sealed to the spot and body numb.
They were coming. Fifty years ago, they'd failed to destroy this shore, and now they had returned to finish the job. Those who remembered the last attack spoke of the way they had slaughtered the last village they'd reached before being stopped, wreaking havoc for no apparent purpose but their own entertainment. No care of the lives they took or destroyed. They spoke of how it had taken an army of men to repel them .
Our village didn't have an army.
"Hania, we need to go," Edrick was saying, but I hardly heard him. "Hania!"
I blinked. There wasn't time to worry about what had happened before or what might happen in the future. Only right now, this moment. The time we had to do something. "Where's my brother? And my father?" I demanded. I knew Edrick didn't have the answer, but I needed to ask.
"I don't know." He was already moving, hauling me behind him. After a few lurching steps, my feet recovered and rushed to catch up to him. If the tidespeople were coming for the village we needed to get out. We couldn't hope to fight against them, not tonight—not without time to gather numbers and supplies and plans, to send for help—so we had to find somewhere safe to wait them out. That was our one option.
"I need to find them!" I paused to scan the crowd. Panic was setting in fast; people were rushing this way and that, frantic to get out of the open. The clouds above us thickened and lightning struck again, turning the village a blazing white, searing my eyes for an instant. The wind swelled, bringing with it the salt of the ocean. I couldn't leave Tobin or Papa in this. I needed to know they were safe.
"They'll find us when we're safe, let's go!"
"But—"
But I didn't have an argument. He was right. I tore my gaze from the others and to the path Edrick had chosen, choking down a sob. This wasn't the time or place. I forced all thought but the direction of my feet out of my head. I could worry about everything else later.
He stopped in the middle of a cluster of houses, and I pulled up short behind him. Rain began to fall, sprinkling around us. Each drop felt like a little dart of ice piercing my skin, colder than it should have been for summer. Somewhere in the dark of the village a man screamed, and my skin raced with goosebumps, breath quickening.
"Where do we go?" I asked, voice hushed. I didn't know if they were here yet. I didn't know where they were. I didn't know anything and I hated it.
Edrick looked right, left, right again. "I don't know where might be safe."
"I've heard before...w-when they attacked the last time, they raided the entire village. It's not safe anywhere here."
His eyes flashed to me. "Your farm?"
The farm. Was it far enough? Would they think to look there?
What would happen if they did?
I couldn't think of anywhere else, save for diving straight into the woods. I may be able to navigate the immediate area, but not in the dark or rain. I nodded, swallowing a lump of terror in my throat. "Maybe."
He didn't wait to consider it further; he sprinted ahead again, barely giving me time to make out where his shadowy form had gone. I could find my way home blind, but Edrick couldn't. I rushed to keep pace with him.
We bolted past a few stray people. I wanted to stop them, to tell them to come with us where it might be safe, but none of them gave us the chance. They hurried on their way in a mindless frenzy. I didn't let myself think about what they were doing or what they might run into. I kept going. The rain and wind grew, swelling into a storm worse than we'd had yet this summer, and I knew it was no coincidence. The rain blurred my vision, and Edrick became a murky form I had to search for every few yards. More than once I lost sight of him until he shouted my name. The buildings ceased to be landmarks; they were now dark, looming shapes that might be the tidespeople themselves. In minutes we lost track of where we were.
I stopped in the middle of the street, turning a circle and trying to find anything that would tell me the quickest way to the farm. "Edrick, I don't know where we are. Which way do we go?"
There was no answer. "Edrick?" Nothing.
Panic rose in my chest, and I stamped it down, not allowing it to settle into a fog in my head. I needed to think. I pushed dripping hair out of my face, knocking a flower to the ground. "Edrick!" I tried again, but to no avail. In the distance I heard shouting, but it was indistinct, dozens of people desperate for help. Another scream ripped through the air, and I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would stop it. I didn't want to hear what was happening.
All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears. My voice came out thin, whipped away by the storm. "Edrick, answer me! Please!"
A growl responded instead—not the growl of an animal but the growl of something else, something that sent chills clawing down my spine. I turned, and my blood became as cold as the rain. A shadowy figure crept from between two buildings, eyes trained on me. At first, all I could see was a towering shape like a person but wrong; its legs were the wrong shape, its arms too long, its body distorted. It hunched over, but stood taller than me. Flashes of lightning lit up and let me see rough, scaly skin and jagged claws. Fangs twisted over its lips. Simple furs and leathers hung off its frame and ropes of shells around its neck. Its features were beastly, terrible and unnatural, and I choked on a scream.
I had listened to the stories and imagined the tidespeople. I had stared at the murals for hours. I'd memorized the swirling greens and blues and golds, but never had I thought of them like this. This thing was not a person at all. It reeked of rotted fish, the stench rolling off its gray-green flesh, and its eyes gleamed with nothing but bloodlust. I staggered back a step, but it did no good; it followed twice as quick.
"Please," I managed, though I had no idea if it understood. My shaking legs couldn't hold me, and I half-fell to the ground. I took the opportunity to scramble for anything I could use as a weapon—a stone or a discarded piece of wood, anything at all—but found only a few pebbles. I threw them, but they just bounced off it. It gave another guttural sound and lunged.
I shoved myself to my feet, slipping on the mud and slick stone beneath me, and before I made it full a step it caught my wrist. I screamed as its claws tore into my skin and my arm yanked back hard, too hard. I was sure something in my shoulder popped. In an instant, I was on the ground and staring at the creature.
I was going to die here. It was going to kill me.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I stared and waited.
Not yet. I didn't want to die yet. Not like this.
I brought my leg up without thinking, kicking the creature's shoulder with all the force I could manage as its claws swung toward me. Its grip on my arm vanished, and I rolled away. My feet wouldn't cooperate once I got them beneath me, but I forced them to keep going. They slid, my knee touching the ground again, but worked. The slick sound of feet on wet stone echoed behind me as the creature followed, snarling its irritation at my escape.
I didn't know if I could outrun it, but I didn't have a choice. I pushed my feet to move faster, faster, flinging myself around corners at random and praying I would find somewhere to hide or come up with a better plan. Praying I would come across someone with a weapon. Anything. Praying the old gods were listening.
"Get down!" somebody shouted. I didn't know which direction they came from or who it was, but I obeyed. I ducked, sliding into the mud with my momentum, and I heard screeching behind me. I turned in time to see the gleam of a sword and see the dark shape of the tidesperson lunging around it. And then a hand was on my arm, pulling me to my feet, and I followed it without question.
I dared one glance back to see a watchman standing over the tidesperson as it writhed and clawed from the ground. He swung his sword down again, and the creature's scream cut off.
"We need to keep moving. Go," the man who had helped me up said. It took me a moment to place his gruff voice and recognize his stern, familiar face: Edrick's father.
A thousand questions sprang to life on my tongue, but I held them. I could ask them later. None of us spoke as we hurried on our way. A second tidesperson swept around a corner in front of us, but the watchman cut it down in a flash and ushered us past. Another turn and Mr. Catessar stopped and pushed me ahead of him through a doorway. I shoved my way through darkness and when I smelled fresh bread and firewood, I knew we were in the Catessars' bakery. I blinked the rain from my vision before I saw it, drenched in shadow like everything else but dry, clean. The dark form of the oven loomed behind the counters on the far wall. The fire and lanterns had been put out to keep the tidespeople from thinking anybody was inside, and a handful of people sat scattered about on the floor or in the few chairs of the storefront. They were soaking wet, near-identical expressions of terror and shock on their faces. In a corner, Isla knelt before Brielle, cleaning blood from the younger girl's face. I couldn't tell if it was tears or raindrops that dripped down her cheeks, but relief washed over me at the sight of them.
"Isla," I breathed. She looked up and, without warning, rushed across the room to hug me. I returned the embrace with my one good arm, clinging to her longer than I knew was necessary.
"Oh, Hania, I was so scared with you still out there." She pulled back and studied me. "Are you alright? Where's Edrick?"
Mr. Catessar was looking at me too, and it took me a long moment to find my voice again. "I...I don't know. We got separated and he...I don't know." Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes and I blinked them away. I didn't know what had happened to Edrick, or Papa, or Tobin—they could be dead already for all I knew. They could be out there fighting to live.
Isla put an arm around my shoulders and led me to the corner she and Brielle had claimed. "It's alright. We'll find him, and everybody else. What happened to your arm?"
I followed her gaze down to the bloody mess that was my wrist. Now that she mentioned it, the pain hit me with a vengeance, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Five gashes circled around my wrist, bleeding, and I could barely move the arm, my shoulder throbbing and searing. "One of...them caught me. I got away."
She nodded and sat down, dipping her hands into a bucket of bloody water and ringing out a washcloth. "Let's get it cleaned up." I took a seat across from her and let her work, gritting my teeth against the pain. It stung every time she touched the cloth to it, but I kept still the best I could, and let my head fall against the wall. The adrenaline was fading, and as much as I wanted it to stay, to help me, I couldn't stop it. There was nothing more I could do for now.
When she finished, I just watched as she dug through a box of supplies for bandages and wrapped my wrist. Nobody spoke. Isla sat between Brielle and I, and we looked anywhere but at each other. The others taking refuge in the bakery remained just as quiet, the lone sounds the occasional shuffling of somebody finding a more comfortable place to rest. Mr. Catessar and the watchman exchanged a few quiet words before leaving again. I didn't ask where they were going. I didn't need to.
Outside, the wind roared, and the rain pounded against the house. Thunder made the walls shake. Screams and shouts rang out every few minutes, some far and some close. Some were riddled with agony, others with anger, and I tried not to imagine what was causing them. A boy of perhaps eight summers sniffled and shifted closer to a woman who I hoped was his mother. A woman rocked a baby wrapped in damp blankets to keep her quiet.
The door swung open again and Mr. Catessar entered, one arm supporting a bloody, limping Edrick, who he dropped into a seat. I jumped up to rush to him, heart in my throat. He was alive, but beyond that I didn't know. Blood covered one whole side of his face, darkened his hair, and blossomed across his shirt. But he was conscious, if unsteady-looking, and met my gaze. "You're safe," he croaked.
"Yes, I'm safe. Did one of them attack you? Are you alright?" The words tumbled over themselves trying to get out, and he gave a weak laugh.
"I'll live, I promise. I found your brother."
I spun toward the door again, expecting to see Tobin waiting there, but it was empty. "Tobin? Where is he? Is he...is he..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"He's alive," Edrick said. "He's still out there."
"What is he doing out there?" I demanded, bolting to the door. Mr. Catessar caught me before I could reach it. His voice was hard, unforgiving, when he answered.
"Fighting, like every respectable and able man is."
I yanked my arm away but stopped at the wave of pain that flooded it at the movement. "I need to go out there."
"You need to sit down, girl."
My exhaustion and upbringing forced down the retort that leapt to my tongue. "He's my brother—"
"Hania, you shouldn't go out there," Edrick said between careful, pained breaths. "Tobin will be alright. He's a hunter; he can handle himself. If they need to get him to safety they will."
I wanted to reply. I wanted to yell at him that he didn't know that, but I couldn't. I was in no condition to help, and I had next to no ability to, even if I had been. There was every chance I'd only get in the way. So I forced myself a step back, even though it felt like my heart cracked.
Mr. Catessar watched me another moment, as if he expected me to bolt past him, but when I didn't move continued out the door. It clicked shut behind him and left the room in crushing silence. Everyone exchanged fearful looks, and then I forced my feet to move again, to carry me to the window.
"Hania," Isla started, but didn't continue. I pushed the worn curtain aside to look out. Every movement felt numb, surreal, like in a dream. I had no thought of what would happen if one of the tidespeople caught me looking and saw we were in here. No thought of any consequence at all. None of this could be real.
The tidespeople were a story. A real story, yes, not made up, but they weren't solid and flesh and blood to me. Never once had I imagined I'd meet them, never imagined they'd return in my lifetime. And here they were. And they were here to kill, and so many of my people were at their mercy.
Outside was a gray darkness, barely light enough for me to watch what was occurring. I saw vague figures, some recognizable as those twisted beasts of tidespeople and some as human. I spotted Mr. Catessar struggling against one, the shine of watchman armor rushing to help him. A man whose face I couldn't see was knocked to the ground and yelled something incoherent. The lightning caught on blood spilled on the stone.
"Stay back," Edrick murmured behind me, taking my arm to lead me away. A part of me wanted to listen to him. I didn't want to see this. But I couldn't look away. A horrible shock and fascination nailed every muscle in place.
I wanted to look away when Tobin came into sight, the murky light catching on his golden hair. I wanted to look away as he plunged something into the chest of a tidesperson, and I wanted to even more when two others retaliated. I could hear their wordless snarls from inside the house. Edrick pulled on my arm again, more insistent this time, but I couldn't move.
The storm heightened, the wind howling against the walls, the rain streaking across the windowpane blocking all sight of outside. Another boom of thunder echoed in my ears. The trembling, indistinct figures outside halted one by one. I saw why a moment later; a new figure approached, taller than any of them. The storm circled around the person but did not touch them. Which was impossible. So impossible. But happening.
In my periphery I saw a tremor sweep through Edrick as he watched. The quiet sense of waiting returned a hundred times worse than before, as if the entire world had silenced for whoever had arrived. As if all of this had been for them.
I didn't know I had returned to the door until I was pulling it open. The rain struck my face again, a freezing shock that couldn't break me out of my need to see what was transpiring.
Closer now, I could see her clearer. A woman, taller than any woman I'd ever seen, clad in a sheer white gown that flowed around her in the wind. Her hair, as black as the sky above, whipped back by the wind, yet both were somehow dry. Her face was proud, regal; hard charcoal eyes set within sculpted features, full lips that curled as she looked on over the petrified battle like it was a scuffle between dogs. The air crackled with lightning as she drew closer, bare feet sweeping across the mud. Just the sight of her stung.
The tidespeople stopped at once and knelt to her. Every one of them, without hesitation, but she ignored them. She was one of them—I knew that right away—but she was something beyond them. Their nobility? A queen, even? She was an untainted, fearsome beauty, a whole different danger. Our men were captivated, staring as she continued toward them.
I wished they would move. I wished they would take the opportunity to resist against her army.
They didn't.
I wished I could run out of the doorway to join them, to do what they couldn't.
I didn't.
I only watched as she stopped in the center of them, but she didn't study them or speak. She knew what she wanted; her gaze was on Tobin, and though I saw confusion and fear flicker in his face, he didn't move away from her. He stood unmoving as she lifted one hand and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.
The one time I'd seen my brother look afraid had been the day our mother had drowned, the day he'd searched the ocean for her and come home only when he couldn't breathe himself. He'd stood on the beach that day, soaked to the bone just like now, staring at the ocean with a tense, silent terror, and the same terror had settled over him.
My chest felt too tight. My insides turned to ice.
The woman tilted her head, studying Tobin's face, and murmured a single word that pierced through the raging of the storm. "Lenairen."
Lenairen.
Rumors said my family carried King Lenairen's blood, distant as it was. My grandmother had always added that Tobin was the spitting image of the king, proof the claims were true.
But by the time I understood what the woman meant, by the time my feet were released from the spell holding them, it was too late. I knew it was too late. A flash of lightning struck close, too close, and the sky burned white. I bent my head, eyes closed against it. There was shouting and growling, a frantic rush of movement around me. My knees hit the ground, jarring my entire body.
"Tobin!"
I didn't know if I called his name or somebody else did. I didn't know if the tidespeople had worked some spell to blind me, if they were about to kill us or worse. My mind spun, a blur, and every thought stabbed into me.
When I could make sense of my surroundings, the storm had dulled to a drizzle as suddenly as it had come. The clouds were thinning, letting the midsummer moon light up the street. Blood and rain pooled but the tidespeople were gone. A few scattered bodies left behind.
The surviving men climbed to their feet, exchanging words, demanding questions of each other that nobody had answers to. But Tobin wasn't among them.
He wasn't among the dead, nor the living.
She had gone, leaving us afraid and broken in her wake, and he had gone with her.