In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens (most motivational books txt) 📕

Her name.

He needed her name.

“Whoa, Tally.” Kest caught him as Tal ran through the arches. “What’s happening? Are you injured? Why are you covered in blood?”

“Let go. I need to know her name. I need her name.”

“Whose name?”

“The sea witch!” Tal twisted out of Kest’s grip and ran. Athlen’s blood grew tacky on his hands, and it smeared along the stone as Tal stumbled toward the dungeons. His heart raced and his legs were weak, but his resolve only grew as he ran down the twisting steps and burst into the dungeons. He ignored the guards, called fire to his hand, and concentrated on the lock. It shattered under the force of his panic and despair.

“Poppy!” he yelled as he shouldered through the door, the guards yelling at him. “Poppy!”

He skidded to a halt in front of her cell.

She stared at him through the tangled strands of her hair. “What do you want?”

“Tell me the name of the sea witch.”

She narrowed her eyes into slits. “Why?”

“I don’t have time, Poppy. Do you know how to call her?”

Shrugging, she stood from her mattress and walked to the bars. “You’re covered in blood, but you’re still not dead.”

“Poppy, please.” Anguish welled in him. She didn’t know. Or she wouldn’t tell him. He’d wasted precious time. He’d run away on a fool’s quest, and Athlen was going to die without him.

“Let me out and I’ll tell you.”

Tal didn’t hesitate. As he had with Athlen’s fetter, as he had done with the door, he concentrated fire on the metal lock until it heated to a cherry red, and it melted from the iron bars. He wrenched the door open, the fire licking across his skin.

“Tell me, please.”

“Morwen. Most call her Morwen.”

Tal turned and ran.

18

Blood soaked the sand.

Tal skidded to a stop, chest heaving, heart racing so hard he was light-headed. But it didn’t matter, he had her name.

Garrett had placed Athlen at the edge of the surf, the incoming tide wetting the hem of Athlen’s trousers. His face was gray. His chest didn’t move.

Tal clutched the shark’s tooth on the cord around his neck, the serrated edge biting into his palm.

“Tally,” Garrett said, voice soft and solemn.

“Lift him.”

“What?”

“I said lift him. We have to get him back to the sea. We don’t have much time.”

There were others crowded on the beach, murmuring, crying, no doubt watching for their prince of fire to shatter in the waves. But he wouldn’t.

Not here.

Garrett lifted Athlen into his arms, and the way his legs hung over Garrett’s elbow and the angle his neck rolled and the complete lack of tension in his body made Tal grip the tooth harder. Athlen’s vivid copper hair stuck to his cheek and forehead, and blood was smeared along the gray-tinged skin of his neck, into his ear. Hints of his gold-red scales glinted in the bright sun, a reminder of the sunset, and of the preciousness of Athlen himself.

Tal wasn’t strong, especially after what he’d endured these past weeks, but he gathered Athlen in his arms and held him close. He didn’t dare listen for breath or a heartbeat. He didn’t need to. His resolve was strong even if his body wasn’t. He avoided Garrett’s gaze, knowing he would cry if he saw the sorrow and pity in them, and instead turned away and made for the surf.

The first wave knocked him to his knees, and he almost lost his grip on Athlen’s body, but suddenly there were strong arms behind him, lifting him as the next break rolled in.

“I’ve got you,” Garrett said. “Keep going.”

They waded out farther, past the rolling foam and froth. Tal’s boots filled with water, his clothes soaked through, weighing him down. But he kept going until his toes lost touch with the sand at each ripple of the waves.

Crimson bloomed around them like petals of a flower. Athlen’s hair fanned out like a halo. His soaked shirt clung to the hard lines of his torso. He was beautiful and macabre, death and magic merged in one being, in one moment.

Tal cleared his throat. “Morwen,” he whispered. He squinted his eyes shut, trusting in Garrett to keep hold of his shirt so he wouldn’t float away on the current or drown in his anguish. He clenched his teeth. “Morwen. Please. Please. Please.”

He poured his heart’s desires toward the sea—the life he’d envisioned with Athlen in the castle, the happiness they’d share, the family they would have together, joining as the last two of their kinds, alone together. He let the grief wash over him like the ocean and allowed his salty tears to stream down his face, adding his own small drops to the deep vastness of the sea.

Bowing his head, Tal grasped Athlen close, buried his face in the bloodied, ruined chest of his beloved.

“Morwen. Hear me. Please.”

Nothing.

Only the cries of the gulls above them and the crash of the waves on the beach behind them filled the thick air.

“Tally,” Garrett said. “I’m so sorry.”

Tal sobbed, great heartrending sobs that wracked his body and tore from his throat on punches of air. He felt cracked in half, broken open so his insides were raw to the sun and the salt. Everything hurt, from the stinging of his eyes to the throb of his heart to the white-knuckled grip he kept on the body floating in front of him.

As his last hope sank, a pulse of magic rent through the water, slammed into Tal’s chest, and suddenly the familiar push-pull of the sea stilled.

Tal lifted his head.

“Did you feel that?”

Garrett nodded. “I think we should swim to shore.”

Another shock of magic rippled toward them, and suddenly the water receded as fast as a blink, sucking everything out to sea violently. Tal lost his footing, yelling as a wave crashed over his head from the wrong direction, water funneling into his mouth and nose. Garrett grabbed him, wrapped his arms around Tal’s waist, and yanked him above the waterline.

“Hold on!” Garrett