Horrific images from three days earlier played before my mind’s eye as I raced to my meeting place with Qinn. Shards of the beautiful white crystal that had encased the cave smashed like the broken bodies of those Neith had so carelessly disposed of; the once green-skinned fever tree that had been the epicentre of Oceanid life, a smoking stump strewn with the weary survivors of Neith’s attack.
The worst had been their crushed spirits. They had given up. They had been making plans to hide away in the bowls of the earth, to live a mere shadow of the life they could live. They’d been prepared to abandon Merrick, to abandon the Oceanid children who, due to their physical immaturity, would never be able to leave the ocean before it killed them. They had been prepared to settle for the ruins that Neith had left them…
A fury so intense that I battled to contain it surged through me as I remembered their hopelessness. Once Merrick was safe, Neith would pay!
A flurry of movement and an almost bossy chattering stopped me short in astonishment, as a school of brilliant orange fish appeared suddenly out of the blue and engulfed me. They darted around in a swarm of elegant flicks – some of them busily sifting the fine white sand for food and others chasing each other, seemingly just for the joy of it, and all the time “talking” to each other in know-it-all chirps and trills.
The pain of my burning lungs and the worry that drove me on so fiercely was momentarily forgotten as my eyes drifted in awe over the wonderland that stretched before me.
I hadn’t known that so many colours could exist. The reef blossomed out of the barren white sand in a plethora of colours and shapes and sounds. It shimmered with life, as comically coloured fish darted amidst bizarre, alien-shaped structures.
I drifted for a few moments over them on the gentle current, struggling to take in the detail and delicacy of the reef. A few curious fish swam up to me, their unlidded eyes examining me as they “discussed” me among themselves in their oddly musical language. They were incredible, their colours flowing from a deep poppy red at their heads through brilliant pink, purple, orange and ending in sunshine yellow.
They darted away from me to hide in a pale green conelike coral structure, over which an electric blue starfish slowly meandered.
I watched in fascination as brilliantly coloured clown fish ducked beneath the waving tentacles of their aggressive stinging little homes. Brilliant flashes of white, yellow and electric blue fish to my left led me into the heart of the garden and the meeting place Qinn had described.
Great saucer-shaped corals, some of them measuring over a metre across, formed a landscape of exquisitely coloured platforms in intense shades of green, yellow, purple and pink.
There was something strange about the reef I couldn’t quite put my finger on at first. Then I got it, and my skin prickled in nervous anticipation: for all the incredible colours, the reef was completely lifeless. Not a single fish or crustation could be seen anywhere. Instead a pall of fear hung in the water and only if I listened very carefully could I make out the tiny scratching of life holding minutely still as it waited out whatever had frightened it into the cracks and crevices of the coral.
A terrified, painful sound shivered through the water accompanied by the disturbing waft of something familiar I couldn’t quite put my finger on and a shudder of fear swept through me.
I searched the reef for the source of the sound, growing more worried as the strange flavour that filled my mouth suddenly made sense as a dark stain of blood wound its way sinuously into the water amidst a froth of bubbles.
I swam towards the commotion which was emanating from the hollow between two uneven stacks of plate-like coral.
The sight that greeted me made my skin crawl. There was a flurry of thrashing which was quickly engulfed in a black cloud of menace and hunger, streaked through with ribbons of blood.
I watched in shock for a few precious moments, my horrified eyes struggling to make sense of the chaos in front of me.
A large shark was whipping something backward and forwards, its body glinting in the shafts of faded sunlight that filtered through the water. It took me those few moments to realise that the object between those powerful jaws was Qinn.
Time seemed to slow as I assessed the situation, several scenarios playing out in my mind. I was terrified by what I was watching, but in those slow-motion seconds the fear merely formed a backdrop to the action I was going to take, and swimming away wasn’t an option.
If I threw an energy ball at it, the chances were good that I’d hurt Qinn even more, although I wasn’t sure I could hurt him any more than he already was.
I ran quickly through my repertoire of talents, selecting speed and strength as the two options least likely to hurt Qinn, then I rushed at the shark, my palms colliding with its rough hide and sending it corkscrewing away from me.
The spiritus that surrounded it immediately turned from aggression to fear as it righted itself and swam quickly away.
“Qinn?” My voice was startlingly clear in the muffling water and was answered by a panicked yelp as I moved into the cloud of blood that surrounded him.
He was entangled in a large piece of netting that had caught on the coral. In his panic he had wound himself tighter and tighter as he’d desperately tried to fight his way free. The net had cut a deep gash in his side and the blood had swirled around him as he fought, mingling with the water around him which was already clouded a sickening greeny yellow in claustrophobic fear.
The shark had shaken him so violently it had broken bones and these created unnatural angles beneath his skin. Yet despite how seriously wounded he was, his face was serene, a faint light still drifting in his eyes.
“Qinn,” I whispered again, my voice cracking. “I’m going to get you out of this net and then I can heal you.”
The corners of his lips twitched.
“Get away from here, Alexandra,” he rasped, pushing uselessly against the net.
“I won’t leave you here,” I told him firmly as I swam over him, searching for the edges of the net.
“This is a trap,” he hissed at me, his face twisted into an inhumanly furious mask as he wriggled uselessly, the long flared trousers that normally enabled him to swim winding into a knotted stringy mess and entangling him further.
I pulled at the netting with all of my strength, focusing my fear and anger into the action and expecting the usual surge of power that this effort normally brought. Nothing happened. I tried again, concentrating on where my fingers were laced through the web of netting, willing the steely fibres to part beneath my fingers.
Qinn twisted in the net again, and my hand, which was now entangled in the net, rasped across the barnacled rocks on which he was so tightly ensnared, scraping a layer of skin off. A wisp of my blood twisted into the cloud that surrounded him.
“Oh that’s not good,” he whispered as we both watched my blood mix with his.
“It’s not as bad as your cuts, I’ll be fine,” I told him, finding his statement strange.
“They’re on your trail, Alex, your blood will only lure them closer.”
His statement made my blood run cold.
“Who? Neith?”
Qinn nodded, his face twisting in pain as he pulled jerkily at the net, his movements unnatural as if his muscles were moving without his full control.
And then he went completely still and panic blossomed in my chest as he stared past me.
“Qinn!”
His gaze jerked back