The Emperor's Edge 3: Deadly Games

The Emperor's Edge 3: Chapter 18 Part 2

Amaranthe circled the vessel and swam beneath its belly, following one of the corridors. Its ascent had slowed to a crawl, and she wondered if it would ever break the surface. All too aware of the kraken weaving after her, she stayed in the craft’s shadow. She was out of harpoons and had dropped the launcher. She still had her sword, and, though it made swimming hard, kept it in hand.

She hoped she was giving Sicarius and Basilard the time they needed.

Something batted her ankle. One of the tentacles. It moved in to get a grip, but she bent double and sank her short sword into it.

It jerked away and bumped against the hull of the laboratory. Streaks of lighting ran up its length, dancing between the clear cups on the underside of the tentacle.

The kraken jerked that limb away, but another snaked in from the opposite side. Amaranthe pulled her legs up, barely evading the grasping tentacle. She tried to spot Maldynado and the others, but couldn’t see anyone. Ink and blood—all the kraken’s, she hoped—muddled the water. With the creature so obviously targeting her, she dared not swim out from beneath the vessel. Besides, with the electrified hull so close, the craft offered more than a hiding spot.

A tentacle swooped in five feet ahead, and she reversed her strokes to halt herself. The two sinuous limbs had her trapped; she could not evade them without swimming into the open.

Amaranthe gripped her sword, a notion of making a stand in her head. She stroked forward, eyes focused on the tentacle blocking her route. It swept back and forth like a cat’s tail, though it was careful not to touch the hull this time. She timed the movements and stabbed the rubbery purple flesh. Too bad she did not have poison on the tip. The tentacle did not seem to notice her attack.

She tugged her sword free, intending to search for a more vulnerable target.

Something wrapped around her leg. The other tentacle. She’d taken her eye off of it for too long.

Amaranthe tried to yank her leg free, but the grip tightened, applying bone-crushing force that smothered her from calf to thigh. Her knee creaked, and she hissed in pain.

An image flashed through her mind of a shattered knee with her unable to walk for the rest of her life. If she had a rest of her life. Where was the rest of her team?

She twisted and slammed her sword into the tentacle. Though her blade sank in a few inches, the kraken tightened its grip instead of releasing her.

Maldynado swam into view, but he carried only that thin rapier, not a harpoon launcher. What would that do?

He stabbed gamely at the creature, but the tentacle ignored him. The kraken pulled her from beneath the vessel, its movements slow, almost leisurely.

Amaranthe hacked at the appendage, no grace to her movements. She was like a logger hewing at a tree. A tree that wanted to kill her.

Something snapped in her knee, and she screamed, the noise half pain, half rage. She tore into the tentacle with even more vigor.

Her breaths came in short gasps. She could not get enough air.

Under her rain of blows, the tentacle stiffened, then loosened. Had the creature finally had enough? Or maybe it was only shifting its grip.

Amaranthe looked up, trying to spot the kraken’s eyes, hoping she would find defeat there.

It hovered, ten feet below the Saberfist. Her harpoon still protruded from the right orb, and the tentacles on that side of its body floated limply. Basilard and Sicarius were weaving between them, approaching the underside of the creature. The keg was still in Sicarius’s arms.