the deaths of hundreds. Remember that, both of you.”
“Sure,” I said. “But shouldn’t we be talking about what just happened? Two of the most powerful and most arrogant Epics in the world are working together. How in Calamity’s name did Regalia manage to recruit Obliteration of all people?”
“It was easy,” Regalia said. “I offered to let him destroy my city.”
I jumped, scrambling away from the Epic, who was forming out of water beside the boat. The liquid melded into her shape, taking on her coloring, and she settled with one foot up on the rim of the boat, hands folded in her lap, the other foot still merging with the surface beside the boat.
She had an elegant, matronly look about her—like a kindly grandmother who had dressed up to visit the big city. A city she was apparently planning to destroy. She looked us over, and though I clutched my rifle, I didn’t shoot. She was a projection, a creation of water. The real Regalia could have been anywhere.
No, I thought. Not anywhere. Projection powers like hers usually had very limited ranges.
Regalia inspected us, her lips downturned. She seemed confused by something.
“What are you up to, Abigail?” Tia demanded.
So you know her too, I thought, glancing at Tia.
“I just told you,” Regalia said. “I’m going to destroy the city.”
“Why?”
“Because, dear. It’s what we do.” Regalia shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can no longer help myself.”
“Oh please,” Tia said. “You expect me to believe that you, of all Epics, are out of control? What is your real motive? Why have you drawn us here?”
“I said—”
“No games, Abigail,” Tia snapped. “I don’t have the patience for it tonight. If you’re going to spin lies, just leave right now and spare me the headache.”
Regalia bowed her head quietly for a moment, then she slowly stood up, moving deliberately, carefully. She perched on the rim of the small boat, and I saw a hint of translucence to her—the water that made up her likeness showing through.
The sea around our boat began to churn and bubble.
“What,” Regalia said softly, “do you take me for?”
Tentacles made of water broke the surface around us. Exel cursed, and I spun, flipping my rifle to fully automatic and unloading a spray of bullets into the nearest tendril. It splashed water, but didn’t stop moving.
The tentacles of water moved in around us, like the fingers of some enormous beast from below. One seized me by the neck, and another snaked forward and wrapped my wrist in a cold, incongruously solid grip.
The others shouted and scrambled as each of us was snatched in turn. Exel unloaded his handgun at Regalia before being picked up and lifted, like a bearded balloon, in a ropy length of water.
“You think me some minor Epic to be trifled with?” Regalia asked softly. “You mistake me for someone of whom you can make demands?”
I thrashed in my bonds as the entire boat was lifted by the tentacles, and the outboard motor’s pitch rose to a whine and was then silenced as some kind of kill switch engaged. Spouts of water curled up around us, forming bars, cutting us off from the sky.
“I could snap your necks like twigs,” Regalia said. “I could tow this boat down into the deepest depths and imprison it there, so that even your corpses never again see the light. This city belongs to me. The lives of those here are mine to claim.”
I twisted to look at her. My earlier assessment—that she seemed grandmotherly—now felt laughable. Lengths of water wrapped around her as she loomed over us, her eyes wide, lips curled into a sneer. Her arms were out before her, clawlike hands controlling the water like some crazed puppet master. This was not some kindly matron; this was a High Epic in all her glory.
I didn’t doubt for a moment that she could do exactly as she said she could. Heart beating quickly, I glanced at Tia.
Who was perfectly calm.
It was easy to dismiss Tia as one of the less dangerous Reckoners. At that moment, however, she didn’t show a hint of fear, despite being wrapped in Regalia’s tendril of water. Tia met the High Epic’s gaze while gripping something in her hand; it looked like a water bottle with something white inside.
“You think I’m afraid of your little tricks?” Regalia demanded.
“No,” Tia said. “But I’m pretty sure you’re afraid of Jonathan.”
The two stared one another down for a moment. Then suddenly the water tendrils fell, dropping us to