Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)

I run through the Undine as they turn to dust around me. When I hit the shoreline, I dive in headfirst, feeling my gills and scales form. My gloves pulse with energy here in the depths. I feel even more control than I ever thought possible. I can sense things from miles away. I can feel a hurricane brewing, hear the currents racing past the continent, hear whale song hundreds of miles away. I can tell where the Rusalka are hiding and know that I could destroy them with just a thought. I decide to let them live. Let them crawl under rocks to escape me. The Undine mother is my only concern.

I shoot straight up out of the water, riding a spout that reaches fifty feet into the air. Once there, I let the moisture around me take over, and it keeps me suspended. The Undine mother knows something has happened that has tilted the scales, and I can smell its fear. It howls and wriggles with indignant anger.

There’s a shriek that forces my hands to my ears, an ancient cry that rips open the sky. The mother’s limbs swat like lightning, and one connects with me. I crash into the water, and the beast plunges down after me. It hits me again, and I’m flung onto the beach. I stagger to my feet, and it barrels over me, knocking me aside as it charges inland.

“No!” I shout, and a blast of energy shoots from my fingertips into the beast’s hide. A massive bubble inflates on its side. It grows and grows, and the monster shrieks and flails. Its limbs shrivel and break off as if I’m turning it to stone, and finally, with one horrible scream, it pops. The Undine explodes. A moment later, a horde of its babies appear and encircle their mother as she crumbles to dust. They are silent for a long moment, then turn and slither back toward the shoreline. Soon, they have all vanished into the surf.

I feel a sudden wooziness, and I’m unable to stand. I hit the sand face-first. There’s a click, and I feel both gloves slide off my hands. They clang as they hit the ground. With them goes the last ounce of my strength. I can’t hear the voices. I don’t feel the water any longer.

I hear a splash and feel clawed hands on me. They drag me to my feet. I’m still dazed but able to make out three figures. Two are Rusalka. The third is Minerva, her face alive with sadistic joy.

“Bring her,” she says to the beasts.

“Where are you taking me?” I say as they drag me into the surf.

“It’s time for you to meet the Great Abyss,” she says.

The water is cold and black, and then there is nothing.





Acknowledgments


Lots of people kept me afloat while I wrote this book. My editor, Sarah Landis, managed to help me with this baby while having one of her own. My wife and super agent, Alison Fargis, does more than a wife or an agent should have to do for a husband and a client. All the merfolk at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt put a million little notes into bottles and sent them out to sea. I have been overwhelmed by what came back. My friend Meredith Franco Meyers was a tireless supporter, and Joe Deasy—thanks for always understanding the plot and the subtext.

Thanks to friends and family, near and far.

And most of all, thanks to my little minnow, Finn.