War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,127

desperation.

We pass the halfway point, the city of Harbor Bay rising before our eyes, so close and yet so infinitely far. In a glance, I realize that the still, calm waters on either side of us are rising too. Bulging. Surging. Growing like the crashing wave still hunting after us with the inexorable force of a hurricane. Salty spray blasts across my vision, drenching my face, stinging my eyes. I reach blindly, clinging to the collar of Tolly’s armor. With a roar of frustration, I launch us both, using my ability to drag us up and over the next gate. Our battalion be damned. They’ll follow if they can. And if they can’t, they were bound to be left behind anyway.

How much does this armor weigh? a useless voice wonders in my head. Will I sink before I can shed it? End up at the bottom of the Bay?

Or worse, will I have to watch Ptolemus go into the waves and never come back up?

Water laps at my ankles. My boots slide over the paved bridge and I almost lose my footing. Only Ptolemus keeps me from plunging into the cloying depths, his arm now wrapped around my waist, holding me close. If we drown, we drown together.

I can almost feel Iris’s hunger as her waves pursue. She would love nothing more than to kill us. Kneecap the Rift, one more enemy to her people. Kill us the way our army killed her father.

I refuse to die like this.

But I see no plan, no attack I can make alone. The nymphs controlling the waves will kill us without even showing their faces. Unless we can somehow kill them first.

I need a gravitron.

I need a newblood.

I need Mare and her storms to light these bastards up.

Behind us, the thunder rumbles again, following the flash of random lightning. It isn’t enough.

All we can do is run, and hope that someone else will save us.

Such helplessness makes me sick.

Another wave crashes, from our right this time. Smaller than the tidal force at our backs, but still strong. It breaks Tolly’s grip on me, splitting us apart. My hands grasp at thin air and then stinging water as I fall headfirst, plunging into the port.

Some fire blooms on the surface, explosions. From oblivions or artillery fire, I can’t tell. All I can do is run my hands over myself, shedding armor before it drags me deeper. I try to keep my mental grip on Ptolemus’s copper as it moves, struggling through the water with me. He’s drowning too.

I kick furiously, trying to surface. As I do, another wave hits me head-on, sending me spiraling into the deep again without a single gasp of air.

The salt water stings my eyes and my lungs burn, but I try to swim, try to outrun the nymphs on the surface. The longer I stay down, the more dead I seem. The farther away I can get.

It’s Tolly’s turn to find me.

A fist closes on the scruff of my undershirt, dragging me along. Through the murky water, I see his silhouette alongside mine, his other hand clenching something metallic. Steel, shaped like a large bullet. Smooth. It drags us along, pushed by Tolly’s own ability. Like a motor.

Clenching my teeth, I grab hold. My lungs scream for relief until I can’t stand it any longer, letting loose a stream of bubbles. I gasp reflexively, choking down water.

With a mighty kick and another burst of strength, Tolly angles us to the surface even as my vision spots and darkens. He throws me forward, onto wet and shady sand.

On hands and knees, I sputter and choke, trying to spit up the water as quietly as possible. He thumps a fist on my back.

I can barely think, but I glance around anyway, eager to get my bearings. Even a second off guard could get us killed.

We’re under one of the docks of the Aquarian Port, in about six inches of lapping water. Boats hide us on either side, hemming us in with nothing but rotting seaweed, discarded rope, and barnacles.

Ptolemus looks beyond the dock into the few feet of space allowing us a prime view of the bridge and Fort Patriot beyond. The harbor is a surging cauldron, battered by dueling tides as the ocean itself rises and falls. Some wake crashes toward the shore, rapidly pushing water up to our necks. I sputter, grabbing at the rotted wood above my head, and for a moment I think we might find ourselves