pleased about it. Stolas arched an amused brow before throwing her an apologetic look.
Runes. “Did you also happen to forget how big this sea orc is?”
“Big enough that I haven’t dared send any of my own men to retrieve the treasure.”
Her hand fluttered to the hilt of her short sword—which suddenly felt like a toy against what she faced. “Bell, refresh my memory on sea orcs.”
Bell’s throat dipped. “They’re an ancient species of dragon that lives off sea mammals, typically whales, sharks, seals, and the occasional hapless sailor. Their scaled bodies are long and serpentine, their wings smaller than most of its cousins. They prefer the water to land or air and only take flight in emergencies or when diving above the waves to spot their prey.”
Her gut clenched. “Are they fire breathers?”
In some cosmic twist of luck, some dragons seemed incapable of using fire to kill their prey.
“The accounts I’ve read suggest they hunt by slamming into their prey from above water, stunning it, and then using their hind claws to eviscerate the animal.”
Nethergates, Bell read way too much. “Wonderful. Any weaknesses or suggestions other than to avoid its talons?”
“On land they’re clumsy and slow, especially if they’ve eaten recently.” His eyes flicked to the shadowy mouth of the cave before meeting hers again. “In water, they are lethal killers.”
“Stay away from water. Noted.” Unfortunately the only way to the cave that she could see was up the rocky limestone cliff face. And the only way to the cliff face was through the water.
Frowning, she ran a few magickal scenarios through her head, only to dismiss them just as quickly. Damius’s wyvern was attuned to even the slightest whiff of magick in the same way some creatures were attuned to vibrations or smells. It was one of the reasons Damius kept the beast despite the fortune he spent keeping it fed and hydrated.
The moment she used even a whisper of power, the dragon would feel it and know she was there.
Best-case scenario, she wouldn’t have to use her powers, instead sneaking past the creature as it slumbered.
Ignoring the alternative worst-case scenario, she cracked her neck and stretched, wishing she’d thought to bring a bigger weapon. Then she bent over and unlaced first her boots then the top of her tunic, stripping to her bare feet, pants, and undershirt.
Stolas’s lips twitched at the corners as she removed her belt . . .
Rolling her eyes, she tossed the heavy buckled accessory at his face and kept her pants on. Now substantially lighter and unencumbered, she dipped a toe in the dark jade water, fighting a shiver as the cold leached into her body.
“At least we know any selkies would have been eaten,” she called out as she waded deeper into the murky pool.
No one responded. Silver linings, Ashwood.
The swim across was uneventful. By the time she reached a sloping jettison of pale flat rock at the base of the cliff, her body had adjusted to the coolness.
The water slicking her palms was deposited on the lichen clinging to a boulder. Then she craned her head as she followed the vertical rock face up with her gaze, quickly plotting the safest route with the most potential handholds.
Here goes nothing.
Her soggy leather pants creaked softly as she began her ascent. Her breath rushed in and out in time with the gentle rhythm of her heart. All she had to do was stay calm, sneak past the creature, and return with the box of treasure.
When the mouth of the cave came into view, she slowly lifted her head to peer into the darkness. The faint odor of rotting fish wafted from the enclave, masking a gamey, primal scent that coiled around her spine and coated her palms in sweat.
The reaction was an instinctive warning to retreat as an insistent voice whispered run run run.
Any other time she might have listened.
Damn Eros and his love of games. No doubt this was yet another experiment to satisfy his curiosity in the same way sending Stolas two females had been.
Gritting her jaw, she slid over the lip of the cave, her cheeks pressing against lichen and moss, and flowed silently to her feet. Once her eyes adjusted enough to make out the walls, she began the heart-pounding task of plunging deeper into the shadows. Each step was a study in willpower. Her body itched to turn around. Her muscles locked and loaded, ready to flee at the first hint of danger.