“We come in peace,” Draven replied, lifting his hands above the water.

  “More like landed. We landed in peace,” Sverik added nervously, his eyes darting around. He put on a faint smile.

  I sensed a whiff of fear coming from him, a thin pale ribbon. Something told me he wasn’t comfortable surrounded by so many Tritones, while Draven was perfectly calm and relaxed. I decided to follow the Druid’s emotions.

  “Well, then,” the young Tritone said. “Let’s get you out of the water first, before your fingers get all pruned. You land animals get funny when wet.”

  He vanished below, and I saw his orange and white tail move as he reached the shore. He used his hands to pull himself forward onto the white sand. It was the first time I noticed his belt, wrapped just below his waist where his fish tail began. It consisted of thick braided strings, a multitude of shells, and a strip of white fabric resembling organza. As he came in contact with the dry strip of sand, his tail shimmered, the colors faded away, and it split in two.

  My jaw dropped as I watched his tail turn into a pair of perfectly functional legs. He stood up and waved at us. The merfolk back home definitely couldn’t do that.

  “Come on! We don’t bite!” He laughed as he motioned us to follow.

  Other Tritones followed him to the shore, where they, too, stood on their newly formed legs. Most, however, stayed in the water, eyeing us suspiciously. I had a feeling we had yet to earn their trust. My mind was still blocked by the fact that they could switch from fish tail to legs so easily. The Tritones had taken the notion of amphibious to a whole new level. They were like mer-shifters.

  Draven, Hansa, Sverik, and I swam toward him and walked the last few feet before we reached the shore. I looked around, taking it all in. It was a breathtaking view, with tall trees casting their shadows over the turquoise water, which was crystal clear on a bed of white sand. It seemed the perfect spot for a summer vacation. It was quiet and secluded, the poster-image of sandy shores and coconut drinks in the sun.

  The young Tritone who had nudged me around in the water came forward as my boots sank into the sand. He offered me his hand, and I took it. He helped me farther away from the water. Several Tritones followed.

  “First and foremost, some introductions are in order,” he said. “I am Zeriel, newly anointed King of the Blue Lagoon.”

  He bowed respectfully, and I instinctively bowed back. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Draven, Hansa, and Sverik do the same. I figured etiquette was not lost on the Eritopians, especially those calling themselves kings.

  “I am Draven, a Dr—”

  “Druid, yes,” Zeriel interrupted him with a fascinated expression. “Though I’ll say, I haven’t seen one of your kind in a few decades at least.”

  Draven nodded curtly. “I may be the last of my kind, but I can’t say for sure. This world has many excellent hiding places. Such as this one. I’m surprised Azazel hasn’t made a move on you yet. Where are we?”

  The Tritones looked at each other, frowns passing over their faces.

  “You don’t know where you are?” Zeriel asked incredulously. “Then how did you get here?”

  “Through that.” I pointed at the obsidian stone on the ledge high above us.

  “You came through the stone?” He clearly had trouble processing the information. “How is that possible? Magic, perhaps?”

  “Wow. You guys have had a passage stone in your backyard for who knows how long, and you didn’t even know it?” Hansa chuckled.

  Draven shot her a glance that asked her to be respectful and diplomatic with our hosts and to avoid any unnecessary arguments. Hansa’s smirk instantly vanished in response, replaced by a faint and polite smile addressed to Zeriel.

  “What’s a passage stone? That giant lug of obsidian has been up there for over three centuries.” Zeriel laughed lightly. “I wasn’t even born when this thing appeared out of nowhere. The elders spoke about it, saying it had been gifted by a Druid, but no one had any details. As far as I’m concerned, this has been a sculpture in my garden for hundreds of years. Never thought it served any purpose.”

  “Well, it does,” Draven replied. “It’s an item of great power and magic. I’d be happy to share the knowledge, should you be interested in using it.”

  “We swim, Druid. We don’t walk through stones. But continue your story. You walked through the stone and…you landed here, in my lagoon?”

  “We didn’t know where it would take us. We gambled with fate, and it spared us.”

  Zeriel nodded, acknowledging Draven’s explanation. When he focused his attention on me again, his face lit up with a bright, wide smile. He wasn’t being polite or friendly. He was being downright charming and making me blush.

  “And you, young lady? What wonderful species brought you to our shore, and from which planet? Because you certainly aren’t from around here.”

  “I’m Serena,” I murmured. “And you’re right. I’m not from around here.”

  “Here for business? Or pleasure?”

  The way he accentuated the word pleasure drew a modest groan from Draven, who took a step forward to stand next to me. If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn I was about to watch a nature documentary about males disputing over a female.

  Zeriel was quick to notice Draven’s protective frame toward me, but it didn’t seem to deter him at all. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy playing with the Druid’s nerves. He stepped forward as well, closing the distance between us.

  I looked up, craning my neck in the process.

  “She’s here with me,” Draven replied.

  I felt his hand on the small of my back, his fingers splayed and pressing gently. Zeriel looked at him first, then at me, and tipped his head to one side.

  “That’s fine, Druid. I just can’t help my fascination and delight when I meet a gorgeous creature who tries to influence my mind. Reminds me of the Maras, and yet, she’s nothing like them.” He winked at me.

  He was absolutely shameless, and given the tension seeping out of Draven, it was working. I couldn’t help but giggle on the inside, watching how Zeriel’s advances made him simmer.

  “What are you?” the Tritone asked me.

  “I’m a sentry,” I replied, trying to keep it short.

  “And this is Hansa, of the Red Tribe,” Draven interjected, introducing the succubus to change the flow of the conversation.

  “And I am Sverik, son of Arid.”

  “What a gang you’ve put together, Druid!” Zeriel remarked with amusement.

  “One does what one can, given the circumstances.”

  “So, since you’re here, would you like to join us for dinner? My brothers have just returned with a fresh catch. We’ll even cook it for you!” the Tritone offered.

  “I’m afraid there is no time for feasts, King of the Blue Lagoon,” Draven replied. “We need help to fight against Azazel. It’s why we risked traveling through the passage stone in the first place.”

  I could sense a faint wariness emanating from the Tritones, most likely caused by the mention of Azazel’s name.

  Zeriel swiftly dismissed the request but maintained his jovial demeanor. “We don’t bother with mainland troubles. “We belong to the waters.”

  “So, what? You think you’re exempt from Azazel’s expansion plans?” Hansa scoffed. “Where do you think he’ll go once he’s done with the mainland?”

  When the Tritone went silent, I chimed in.

  “What do you think is going to happen, Zeriel? Azazel will need the waters. He will put out ships. He will claim ownership and control over each drop of water because it’s in his nature. It’s what he does. Will you succumb and swear fealty to him? Or will you stand up and fight?”

  “What do you know about fighting?” Zeriel spat. “About war? About Azazel? We were the first to signal that there was something wrong with him, that his nefarious plans would doom the entire galaxy one day. We warned the Druids and were swiftly dismissed. Told
to mind our waters and leave the mainland business to them. And where are they now, pray tell?”

  “Dead,” Draven replied bluntly. “They were foolish. We both agree on that. But there’s no time for pointing fingers now. Azazel is moving on the last citadel soon, after which he will set his sights on the waters. We can defeat him. We can form an alliance and hit him with everything we have.”

  Zeriel didn’t take his gaze off me as he spoke. His eyes narrowed.

  “And what do you have, other than a Druid, an incubus, a succubus, and a sentry?” he asked.

  “Three Oracles and the Daughters’ guidance,” I shot back.

  His eyes widened, and he gasped.

  I didn’t have any patience left for trying to prove ourselves worthy of someone’s attention. We had the power. We had the will and the determination to fight and win this. All they had to do was jump on board. Pleading would get us nowhere.

  “You have Oracles?” Zeriel asked.

  I nodded.

  He mulled this over, most likely weighing all the options.

  “Deep down I’ve known for a long while that it’s only a matter of time before Azazel sets his eyes on our waters,” he mumbled.

  “Time is running out,” Draven added. “Will you let your people die then? Or worse, become a snake’s slaves, or will you be the king they deserve and rise up and fight?”

  The question set something off in Zeriel—the ego of a ruler was always a good gamble when one wished to illicit a reaction, and Draven had played the king card perfectly. The Tritone’s expression changed into something that radiated pride and determination—the kind that led entire armies to war, hell bent on victory.

  “I just didn’t want my people to go fight this alone after the mainland rejected our concerns. But seeing you here, complete with Oracles and the will to fight, it’s something I’m willing to get behind,” Zeriel announced.

  He raised his arms from his sides and grinned. “What do you need from us, then?”

  “To fight when we ask you to fight,” Draven replied.

  “Will you be fighting with us, Serena?” Zeriel looked at me.

  “Of course. It’s my family and friends Azazel’s after. We have a score to settle.”

  “Good. Then I’m in.”

  He looked around, as if waiting for his Tritones to express the same level of enthusiasm, but he was met with raised eyebrows and scoffs. He didn’t like their reaction, judging by his irritated grimace.

  “We could use some excitement around here. Let’s all admit it!” Zeriel addressed his people.

  Some sighed. Others nodded. But the consensus was pretty much the same—they were on board with us, just not that excited about it. Only Zeriel was ecstatic.

  “In that case, Druid, we need to arrange a meeting. All of us. Not just you and me and the lovely maiden.” He winked at me, activating a twitch in Draven’s jaw. “I can rally more creatures. There are plenty of rogue souls out there who will fight against Azazel if they know they won’t be on their own.”

  Draven, Sverik, and Hansa looked at each other, nodding in agreement.

  “First, we need to reach out to an incubus settlement on the northwestern shore of Antara,” Draven replied.

  “Antara?” I asked, unfamiliar with the name.

  “It’s the continent on which the mansion is. There are three on this planet, of which two are inhabitable. Antara and Marton. Sequeb is uninhabitable to most of us, a vast desert without a single drop of sweet water. Marton is pretty much the same, but it was blessed with a river crossing it from north to south,” Draven explained briefly.

  “You are still on Antara, Druid,” Zeriel interjected. “But now that you mention Sequeb and Marton, I’ll make sure to send scouts out there as well. There may be creatures there willing to rise against Azazel.”

  Draven nodded, his gaze darting from Zeriel to me. The Tritone had once again shortened the distance between us, his arm brushing against mine. Given how he behaved, he’d likely seen Draven’s reaction and had decided to try and make the Druid snap. I didn’t want to be there when the snap happened.

  I felt him wet and cold, and it sent shivers down my spine. The Tritone was more fish than man.

  He sensed my discomfort and took a step back. He was respectful at least, despite his rampant playfulness. I had to give him credit.

  “This is good news,” Sverik mused. “How far would you say we are from the northwestern coast? Are we even on the same side of the continent?”

  “Yes, you are,” Zeriel replied. “It’s a couple of days’ trip by foot. But we can give you one of our canoes, and it will take you close enough in a matter of hours, leaving just a few miles to the settlement.”

  “You know its location?” Draven asked.

  “Not myself, personally. But I will take you to a Mara city. They know where it is. Besides, they’re worth talking to as well regarding this alliance. Their mind-bending abilities are, well, mind-bending.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. I liked Zeriel. For a king, there was this childish nuance about him that made him charming and fun. I could see us becoming friends in the future…provided we survived Azazel.

  “I will get the canoe ready for you,” he added and snapped his fingers.

  Two Tritones from behind nodded and immediately jumped into the water, their legs shifting back to long beautiful fish tails as soon as they were submerged.

  “Thank you, Zeriel,” Draven said. “It takes all of us to make this happen. There’s no guaranteed win, but it beats hiding from the monster and waiting to die.”

  Zeriel nodded in response, smiling. “I understand, Druid. I just wasn’t aware that there was a resistance happening. Now! About that meeting! Who will you call to attend?”

  “The incubus settlement I told you about is connected all over the planet. The Dearghs are in, and so are the Lamias, along with whatever incubi and succubi we can gather ourselves.”

  “Oh my. You got the Lamias involved?” the Tritone sounded surprised. “How’d you manage that?!”

  Draven and I looked at each other in a moment of awkward silence before he responded. “We made a deal,” he muttered.

  Zeriel looked at us with a raised eyebrow, followed by a smirk. “Something tells me it was a pricey deal,” he quipped, and my stomach churned. “Nevertheless, they’ve got some magic up their sleeves, and they are cruel and fierce, perfect on the battlefield. Well done!”

  “Who can you bring into the fold?” Draven steered the conversation away from the Lamias.

  “The Maras, who you will shortly meet. Plus a few other groups I’ve got in mind. Rest assured, Druid. I will make a good contribution to this alliance. Besides, we will be fighting as well, when the time comes. What we need to do now is agree on a meeting place for leaders and representatives of all those involved to discuss the terms and timeline of this alliance. Have you thought of one yet?”

  We all shook our heads. We were still in the stages of wondering who to ask for help.

  “I’ll make a suggestion then. The northern waterfall of Mount Agrith. Destroyers don’t dare get close to that mountain, since it’s the birthplace of the Daughters, and even they don’t have the courage to poke the pink-haired bear, if you catch my drift…and it’s easy to reach from all points of Antara, including water lands, since it’s the only waterfall to pour into a river that spills out into the ocean.”

  Draven thought about it for a long second, while Hansa and Sverik looked at each other, then at me. I could tell from their expressions that they weren’t opposed to the idea.

  “That makes sense,” Draven ultimately replied. “Let’s all gather there, then. How long will you need to rally your people?”

  “Give us seven moons from tonight. We’ll swim up to Mount Agrith and make sure it’s nice and secluded for a lengthy and constructive conversation. Destroyers may not dare to venture near it, but there are plenty of other spies and traitors that may be lurking around. Call it preemptive ac
tion.” Zeriel cocked his head and smiled.

  Draven nodded and offered his hand to shake on it. The Tritone took it and held it firmly, his eyes locked on the Druid’s.

  I let my sentry nature out for a minute to get a feel for what was moving between them as far as emotions went. I sensed fear and reservation but also hope and determination. None of us fully trusted each other in this lagoon, but we were all we had against a common and deadly enemy, and that was enough to build a bridge that could hold us.

  Zeriel clapped his hands once, as a small canoe was pushed along the water onto the shore.

  “Great stuff!” he declared. “Now, let’s get you on a boat and take you to the Maras. You can speak to them first, and they’ll guide you to the incubi settlement!”

  “How do they know where it is? It’s supposed to be quite secret,” Sverik replied.

  “The Maras know everything and everyone moving around their territory, incubus,” Zeriel shot back, his voice solemn and heavier than usual. He was going for the extra drama in that statement, and I once again smiled on the inside. He was quite the character.

  We all stepped toward the canoe. Hansa was the first to notice something off about it.

  “When’s the last time someone used this?” she asked, staring at it.

  It looked at least a few hundred years old. The wood was cracked and worn out, the victim of unforgiving water and time. I wasn’t even sure it could hold one of us, let alone four.

  “It’s… It’s been a while,” Zeriel replied. “Why?”

  “I don’t think it will hold us,” I chimed in.

  It was a miracle it was still floating, as far as I could tell.

  “Don’t underestimate her. She can hold her own plus the four of you quite elegantly,” the Tritone replied, apparently insulted. “Looks aren’t everything, you know? I mean, look at me. I’m gorgeous, but there’s more to me than all this refined handsomeness. Right, Serena?”