To Bleed a Crystal Bloom by Sarah A. Parker
Once upon a time, sleeping with one eye open was a must. A necessity. Close both and who knows what could slip past and thieve your most prized possessions.
Old habits die hard.
But we’re not sleeping. We’re trying.
Failing.
Curled in a knot within a rocky nest at the mouth of our trove, my drako surveys the ocean, watching shadows drift by.
Large shadows. Tiny shadows. Shadows with long, wiggly arms, and some that chase others at an alarming speed.
Zykanth isn’t roused by them. Big or small, fast or slow, he knows there’s not much out there to fear.
Not anymore.
A jarring sound comes to us from above. A strident summons.
Tap ... tap ... tap ...
Drawing our lungs full of chilly water, Zyke releases a great, disruptive rumble that ripples through the ocean, scattering a swarm of Bala sharks that were nibbling the algae off our scales.
My drako doesn’t move; not a single fin. Doesn’t even crack our other eye open.
‘He won’t stop.’
As if to prove my point, the sound repeats. Faster this time.
Tap-tap-tap.
Zykanth flicks our serpentine tail—an abundance of silver frills dashing through the water. ‘Eat angry man?’
‘No. We cannot eat him ... Unfortunately.’
He huffs, expelling a scalding plume of water, making a zealous effort to close the other lid.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap—
We snarl in unison, upper lip peeled back from the arsenal of our fine-tipped maw.
‘Angry man have no rhythm.’ Zykanth begins to unfurl. ‘Angry man better off dead.’
‘Zyk—’
He shoves off the ledge with a great beat of our tail, skirting around sharp rocks and through swaying forests of waterweeds. Swarms of fish scatter, the ocean holding its breath as we spear skyward.
I sigh, snatching control moments before he breaks the surface.
Our jaw dislocates with a painful pop that never gets any easier, and the entire length of our spine convolutes as we shrink and shrink, one compacting vertebra at a time. Bones crack and crunch and splinter, our skin tightening, herding Zyke into the cage of my chest where he thrashes against my ribs—the painful thuds casting ripples through the water.
He really was going to eat him.
Head rising above the surface, I arch a brow, taking in the shadow of a man standing atop a small mound of jagged stone. He’s dressed in black, eyes twin moons peering out from the darkness.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Get out,” he growls with a flash of teeth, tossing a metal rod aside—the one he just used to rouse us with.
It clatters against the stone in an erratic beat that makes me bristle. Makes Zykanth do the same.
Crunching my nose, I battle to keep my top lip steady. “Only because you have such impeccable manners.”
I pull the last of Zykanth’s essence into the shell of my chest, and my tail splits, bones solidifying, joints bending. The last of my scales peel inward as I dig freshly formed toes into the grooves of the rock, grip hold, and lug myself free from the ocean’s secure embrace.
Unfurling before Rhordyn, I look down on him, brow raised, manhood hanging heavy between my bare legs.
“Put the shorts on.” He tosses a wad of material at my chest, and I let it fall to the rock.
“Intimidated?”
He doesn’t answer. Simply crosses his arms.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bending, I hold his stare as I retrieve the pants. “Can’t have that now, can we?”
I step into them, button up, and pocket my hands.
The moon breaks through the clouds, casting a beam of silver light upon us while we marinate in a stretch of silence that goes on and on and—
“You going to talk, bruák? Or are we just going to stand here watching each other?”
No answer.
“Guessing game it is. Let me see; surly frown, those creepy eyes ...” I let my gaze drag down his body, and Zykanth ricochets off my ribs as I notice a bulge in Rhordyn’s left pocket.
‘Treasssure,’ Zyke trills, tapping his essence around the confines of the mysterious object.
I quickly avert my line of sight, drawing a couple of long sniffs.
“The reek of rage that tells me if it weren’t for”—I wave a hand at the silver scrawl peeking above his collar—”all that under there, I’d be bleeding out at your feet.” Shrugging, I drawl, “Another notch in your belt.”
Rhordyn steps forward, putting us almost eye to eye, and I push my shoulders back.
“That was an accident. A casualty of war.”
Zyke pauses, and I have to lock my spine as he slams against my ribs and lungs and heart, straining my next breath.
“If it makes you sleep better at night, keep telling yourself that.” I look down ... up again. “What’s in your pocket?”
The question lures my drake back to his previous mission of surveying the shape and size of the curious item while Rhordyn’s features harden.
“You think I sleep, Malikai?”
“Hope not. I hope you can’t close your eyes without wanting to gouge your own brain out.” I feign a yawn, dragging it out before I continue. “Come to think of it, perhaps that’s exactly what you should do. I wouldn’t mind watching blood dribble from your eyes and your mouth and your fucking ears.”
Just like her.
“Asha was my friend, too.”
Behind me, the ocean stills.
Listens.
“She was more than just my friend. Did you know she was the last female?”
His eyes widen; the slightest tell that’s oh so telling, gone the very next second.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Kneeling, I pluck a shard of rock off the ground, inspecting its cutting edges before pushing to my feet, gaze catching on his pocket again. A momentary lapse I try to hide by flinging the stone, watching it skim across the water’s surface. “You doomed the fate of my entire species with that blow.”
Casualty of war ...
It’s half tempting to set Zyke on him, then sit back and watch the carnage unfold. Rhordyn would put up a good fight, but that’s half the fun.
‘Treasure in his pocket. Can’t eat angry man with treasure in his pocket.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’d just have to chew gently for a change.’
Rhordyn clears his throat, crossing his arms again. “Did you give her the talon?”
“I did. And I hope she guts you with it.”
His chest shakes, and a bout of deep laughter rolls out of him.
“Is something funny?”
All humor seems to melt off his face, transforming it back to the sterile starkness I’m used to. “Not really, no. Believe it or not, you and I are on the same side. At least until you drift further across that very vivid line.” He jerks his chin at me. “You know the one.”
He saw the kiss, then.
Good.
“We’re not on the same side, Rhordyn. Not since you doomed my people.” I steal a glance at the tower poking high in the sky, half glazed by a lick of moonlight. “And Orlaith needs me more than she needs you. All you do is knot up her head, then leave me to untangle the mess.”
He looks out across the ocean, and I take the opportunity to study the lump in his pocket more thoroughly.
Zykanth perks up.
It looks heavy. Sizeable. The edges are perhaps a little jagged, but sometimes it’s those sharp bits that really define a piece. Set it apart from the others smoothed by the polish of water and time.
I bunch my hands, stuff them in my pockets.
Take them out again.
“When was the last time you took a trip to the island, Malakai?”
My heart lurches.
I follow his gaze to my outstretched hand, unwittingly reaching for his pocket. With a start, I snatch it back and knot my arms, mirroring his stance.
“I said when?”
I don’t answer. Don’t dare spit a lie that will no doubt be picked apart. Don’t give him the glory of dissecting the pieces.
Rhordyn shakes his head, a low growl caught in the back of his throat, a look akin to disgust splashed across his face. “I didn’t doom your kind. You did that yourselves.”
A hiss rips out of me, lips peeled back to expose sharp incisors and even sharper canines—teeth threatening to lengthen and duplicate until my jaw is packed full of a deadly cavalry.
“It’s only a matter of time before the wrath of The Shoaling Seas takes a bite out of you, and then what? That girl has lost everything, and you have the nerve to offer her something so temporary?” He cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing.“Or are you prepared to give up your beast for her?”
Fury bubbles inside me with the force of a thousand waves.
My muscles bulge, bones splintering under the pressure of keeping Zyke contained, jaw popping over and over. Even my skin begins to itch and sting, and I know that if I were to glance down at my legs, I’d see patches blooming with scales. I’d see frills sprouting from my ankles, maybe even my toes.
Rhordyn clicks his tongue, looking me up and down. “I didn’t think so.”
I crack my head from side to side. Bunch my hands into fists.
“We are on the same side, Malikai. The side that’s no good for her.” He steps close, until I can see the smoky swirl of his unsettling eyes, like a storm cloud just swept over them. “So, next time I catch you kissing Orlaith, I’ll stick you through the heart. I don’t care if you’re the first or last of your kind, if you’re on two feet or none. Consider this your first and final warning.”
It’s not the threat that catches me off guard, but the conviction in his tone. It’s his eyes that look more empty than full, despite his keen attention. A look I’ve seen too many times in Orlaith’swisteria stare.
But there’s something else, too ...
“What have you got to lose, Rhordyn?”
He lifts his chin. “Everything.”
Something glimmers in my peripheral; a gem held aloft in his white-knuckled fist—too big for him to fully enclose his fingers around.
But it’s not just any gem.
It’s iridescent. The unrefined heart of a pre-storm rainbow. And there’s only one place it could have come from.
Zykanth trills, peering through my eyes, tapping his essence around Rhordyn’s fingers in a command to drop the treasure.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he pulls his arm back and lobs it through the air, watching me with that condemning gaze as I fight to keep Zykanth contained.
It’s the distant plop that shatters my self-restraint.
My skin rips, bones crack and grind and swell, muscles pull and stretch, and the water eats us up in a single gulp as we plunge into the sea.
By the time we return to the surface—our priceless treasure stashed deep in the most protected corner of our trove—Rhordyn’s gone.