find…”
She gave up on trying to find a clasp and grabbed the chain itself. But it was underwater and tight enough that she couldn’t pull it up. It took her a moment to realize she needed to move Chasca closer to the rock formation to gain some slack. Pushing and pulling and coaxing, she drew the dog through the water. Finally, she could pull the chain out of the water so she could see it.
The rifle had gotten wet. She prayed it would still work.
Awkwardly and fighting Chasca as much as the waves, she aimed the weapon at the chain.
“Please, girl. Hold still for a second. I can’t risk hitting you.” She put her back to Chasca, trying to make sure she couldn’t get in the way.
Another wave roared as it formed. Hands shaking, Oku pointed the muzzle of the rifle at the chain. An alert flashed across her contact, and she swore. High blood sugar. No kidding.
She fired, and the force of the impact blew the chain out of her hand. Another wave came in, knocking her over again. She lost the rifle.
Chasca surged away from her, and Oku lunged, grabbing for her. She caught the dog’s collar. Chasca hauled her like a sled being pulled at top speed across a northern glacier.
It was only then that Oku realized it had worked. She’d broken the chain.
Chasca dragged her up until the water was only knee deep. As Oku found her feet, keeping a death grip on Chasca’s collar lest she take off down the beach, more orange bolts streaked out from the direction of the cliff.
Oku hurried toward the protection of the darter, a dozen holes now blown in it. Before she reached it, a bolt sizzled toward her. There was no time to react, and it would have struck her, but Chasca lunged to the side, pulling her off balance. As it was, the bolt skimmed her shoulder and fiery pain surged through her body.
Chasca almost succeeded in lunging away, but Oku gritted her teeth and kept her hold on the collar. Panting, she hauled the dog up the beach and dropped to her knees beside the darter’s open hatch. Her shoulder burned, but it could have been a lot worse.
“Get him, get him!” Maddie yelled from somewhere near the cliff.
Cursing came in response. Gunther. Then he swore in pain.
Oku thought about dragging Chasca inside the darter, but there were so many holes in the hull that she could almost see the firefight on the other side. Shards of Glasnax—or maybe these old darters had real glass windows—littered the deck inside. Another reason to avoid it. But what if Maddie and Gunther didn’t succeed in driving off the attackers?
Wet and scared, Chasca shivered in Oku’s arms. Every time the dog stirred, she bumped Oku’s shoulder, and fresh pain stabbed her, but Oku was too afraid she’d run off if she let go of her.
Lights flared in the sky up above as a shuttle soared into view over the cliff. Some new enemy? Kidnappers who had been plotting to get her all along?
Oku leaned against the hull, hoping the darkness hid her. The shuttle flew lower, coming straight toward the battered darter. The weapons fire stopped. Oku squinted as a wide beam of light landed on the beach—on her.
“Inside, girl,” she whispered to Chasca, forcing herself to her feet.
Chasca didn’t want to go in the darter any more than she would have wanted to go back in the ocean—maybe she feared the tide would keep coming and sweep it away—but Oku lifted her in. Her shoulder protested every movement. She couldn’t get the hatch closed, so she left it and pulled Chasca deeper inside. Oku hunkered down between seats, hoping they would provide cover if more shots blasted into the darter.
But it grew silent on the beach. Oku resisted the urge to peer out the hatch. She crept back to the weapons storage compartment she’d found before and pulled out a stunner.
The lighting outside shifted as the shuttle landed. Chasca whined.
“Ssh,” Oku whispered. “We’re hiding.”
Chasca gave her a look. One that suggested they should have fled up the beach to the castle and hidden in Oku’s room.
A shadow fell across the hatchway. Oku pointed the stunner.
Finn looked in, and she almost fired, but he swore and jerked back during her split-second of indecision. The next person who looked in was their mother. Relief washed over her, though she might still be in trouble. What had Finn told her?
“Oku?” Her