Atlan

Chapter 2

Aslan and Krish sat at the stern, feet dangling over the surf. Krish′s copper irises shone like the surface of the ocean, impish features illuminated beneath the stars and the receding lights of the San Francisco Bay Area.

Ethan′s 21st entailed lots of bass and barrels of booze. Aslan had found himself a straggler at parties before, but this time he felt right at home talking to Krish, letting the rave music and raucous melt into the background like an iceberg in the Atlantic.

Aslan tuned out the noise, counting the freckles on Krish′s face. He admired the effortless dark curls that fell across his forehead and the dimples that spread across his cheeks like ripples in the tide. Krish wore khaki shorts and an unbuttoned shirt, baring a rope necklace that rested against his tanned chest. Aslan figured he looked like a mess beside him, dressed in his Domino′s uniform and sporting helmet hair. Alas, the admiration in Krish′s gaze as he looked at Aslan made him feel as if no one else existed.

″Earth to Aslan.″ Krish bumped his shoulder, breaking him from a sober stupor. Aslan hoped the cold coastal breeze hid the heat that rushed to his cheeks as Krish slid closer, taking the former′s hand again – except this time, the pair had an audience.

″Isn′t that cute?″ Brad. Aslan felt a firm grip on his shoulders before being shoved against the side rail. ″The Pizza Dude and the Paki—″

″Cut it out, Brad.″ Krish rose to his feet, unable to keep a measured tone beneath Brad′s mocking laughter. He wrestled him off Aslan, taking a punch to the gut. ″Don′t touch him.″

″Relax, Robindian Hood,″ Brad spat, shooting Aslan a disgusted sneer. ″Your little boyfriend can′t take care of himself?″

At that, Krish landed a jab to Brad′s jaw. A small crowd had gathered around the stern, but no one came to their aid. It seemed Brad and his wasted buddies had gotten bored of beer pong and decided to be the bullies onboard. Aslan stood, putting himself between Brad and Krish. ″Dude,″ he muttered, shaking his head. ″You can′t be dumb, racist, and homophobic ... like pick a struggle, man.″

″Shut up, fa—″ Aslan struck a blow before Brad′s lips formed to utter the slur. He heard audible gasps amidst the crowd of drunk college students before Brad lunged at him, knocking the air from Aslan′s lungs as he shoved him against the rear of the boat. Aslan had been pushed and punched before, but this time it felt different – the breath that escaped his chest did not return.

He heard a crash as bones broke the surface of harsh waves, horrified screams silenced as hydrostatic pressure hammered against his eardrums. He had all but glimpsed the shadow of dread cross Krish′s face before darkness clouded his sight; the hull of the sailboat seemed to shrink as he sunk deeper and deeper.

Aslan kicked and screamed, muscles stiffening as frigid fluid filled his lungs. The current had him chained at the ankles as if his feet were tied to an anchor. If he hadn′t been fighting for his life, he might have heard the inhuman singing sooner; demonic echoes from the depths of the ocean, like a calling for captives of the sea to surrender.

His limbs lost their fight, trembling lips tinged blue. His arms stopped flailing, legs stopped kicking. He reached out, desperate for his fingertips to break the surface and find Krish′s once more ...

... but Aslan was too far down.