“Xanthus, where is the cur? Where is that filthy cur? Your mother sent me a message, telling me what you were trying to do. And we on the counsel cannot allow this. I cannot allow this. Bring her to us now and you will go free. If you try to protect her, you will die.”
Xanthus knew Sara couldn’t understand a word of what was being said. Still, she had to be terrified. There was no mistaking that kind of anger.
Xanthus rushed to a large trunk, removed an arsenal of weapons, and began strapping them to his body. Sara was frozen, too shocked to move.
“Come, brother,” Gael’s voice joined his father’s. “I’ve told them how she seduced you. I’ve told them of her power. We know you are blameless. Just bring her out to us and you will be spared.”
His father spoke again. “We understand you tried to marry this human witch. But your mother saved you from that unholy union. The priest was not a true priest. You are not married. You do not have to accept this witch’s punishment. You are not bound to her.”
“Xanthus, what are they saying?” Sara asked. “They’re here for me, aren’t they? Your mother told them. You need to let me go. Maybe they won’t hurt you if you do. We don’t have to tell them we are married.”
“No,” he shouted. “I will not turn you over. You don’t have any idea what awaits you.”
“Death?” she asked boldly.
“Death is the easy part. What comes before death is the bigger worry.”
“Xanthus,” his father shouted. “I have my personal army standing by my side. You will find no friends among them. There is no one to help you here. If you cannot break from this witch’s spell, they will not hesitate to kill you, son. You need to try to break from it. You must bring her to us.”
Xanthus was relieved that he would not have to kill any friends today. He had no respect for his father’s soldiers. They were heartless killers, each one. His father was careful when choosing those who fought alongside him.
Xanthus led Sara into the tunnel.
“Sara, I will protect you. But you must do what I say. If I say move, do it without question. If I say stay, don’t move. I must know where you are at all times.”
“But…”
“Sara, if you don’t, you put us both in danger.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do it. But I really think you should turn me in.”
Xanthus growled. “That’s not going to happen. Keep close to me and trust me to protect you. This is what I do.”
Xanthus pulled her in for a quick, crushing kiss. “I love you, Sara, never mistake that. And whatever happens, I will do all within my power to make you safe.”
“Should I tell them about my father?”
“No,” Xanthus snapped. “Whatever you do, don’t do that. Your life would be worth nothing. No, just keep quiet and if worse comes to worst, I will figure out a way to get word to your father. Now follow me.”
Xanthus moved as quickly as he dared. Sara still wasn’t a very strong swimmer. His tail brushed against her outstretched hands while they swam through the tunnel. The light grew brighter as they neared the exit. He knew that the bulk of the army would be meeting them there. His mother would have told them where the exit was. She’d obviously let his father and the others into his castle. He couldn’t chance going through it. He’d made it nearly impenetrable, but that also meant that getting out would be a problem.
So the place of battle would be amongst the coral.
Xanthus smelled the soldiers before he saw them. There were three of them ahead in the tunnel. He drew his weapon. It was a butterfly dart gun that could shoot two dozen tiny, poison-tipped darts. The moment they were in range, he fired. He heard cries and grunts from the Dagonians.
Xanthus and Sara swam toward the exit of the tunnel, passing by the floating corpses of the three Dagonians. He slowed his approach, grabbed Sara’s hand, and pulled her against his body as they hugged the side of the tunnel.
The light was blinding as they reached the mouth of the cave. Xanthus tucked Sara behind his back. He could feel her jump when the army sounded a battle cry.
Sara focused on breathing steadily and not panicking. The last thing Xanthus needed right now was her falling to pieces.
“Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone. She heard the clanking of metal as she felt currents of water pushing her from one side to the other, and from above. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Sara saw Xanthus flying like a ghost through the water. He clashed with Dagonian after Dagonian as they came at him one after the other. Each warrior’s face was contorted with rage, anger, and bloodlust.
Xanthus clutched a trident in one hand and a sword in the other. He met and deflected each strike, each spear, even each harpoon that was being shot from a distance. Sara had no idea how skilled a warrior Xanthus was until now. Countless soldiers surrounded him, yet they couldn’t land one strike against him. But every blow delivered by Xanthus met its mark, slashing flesh, and dismembering limbs.
Sara was sickened when Xanthus took the head off one soldier and then in the same swipe, the armed hand of another. Red, billowing clouds filled the water. Out of the clouds, Sara saw a spear come straight for her head. She screamed—fear and horror driving her wailing cry. Xanthus deflected the spear at the last second.
A moment later, the sounds of battle ceased. Sara continued to scream as she felt an arm clamp around her waist and a hand slap over her mouth.
Then there was silence.
The fighting must have been over, given the stony silence. That could only mean one thing—Xanthus was dead.
