Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Levi

I tell myself I’m just heading into town for the hardware store – the houseboat’s stern light needs replacing, and my backup anchor line is showing wear. And maybe while in town, I’ll grab some lunch and do some grocery shopping. I repeat these justifications as I drive, trying to ignore the real reason my heart beats a little faster with each mile. Rose mentioned she’d be shopping in town today, and despite my best efforts to pretend otherwise, I know that’s the real source of my sudden eagerness to run errands.

My eyes scan Main Street’s sidewalks as I cruise past the shops. Rose’s rental car isn’t parked outside Koko’s bakery, but I pull into a spot anyway. A love goddess might be precisely what I need right now – someone who can see through all my excuses and help me make sense of these feelings I can’t seem to shake. I sit for a moment, engine cooling, gathering my courage.

The cheerful bell above the door announces my entrance to Koko’s bakery, only to be drowned out by raised voices. I freeze in the doorway – a large man with silver hair stands with his back to me, his imposing figure radiating tension as he faces Koko behind the counter. The warm, inviting atmosphere has vanished, replaced by something that sets my nerves on edge.

“I don’t forgive you, Perun!” Koko’s voice cracks with fury, her usually gentle face transformed. “My son was raised in the underworld because of your stupid feud with Veles. I will not be dragged into this cycle again!”

“Mokosh, please—” Perun takes a step forward, his massive frame crackling with barely contained electricity. The air grows thick with static, making the hairs on my arms rise.

“No more excuses!”

“I’m not making excuses! If you would just let me explain—” Perun roars. Thunder crashes overhead, shaking the bakery’s foundation. The lights flicker ominously as I realize the storm isn’t just coming from him – in mere seconds, the bright summer day has transformed into a tempest of biblical proportions.

Through the bakery’s windows, I watch in shock as storm clouds, dark as ink and roiling like a turbulent sea, engulf the sky. The wind picks up with a banshee-like howl, bending saplings nearly double and sending debris flying down the street. Rain begins to lash against the windows with such force that it sounds like gravel is being thrown against them.

“I love you,” Koko continues, her voice barely audible over the din outside. “But I’m done. Go play your little games with your brother and leave me alone.”

Perun’s response is lost in another earthshaking boom of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning so bright it momentarily blinds me. The storm’s fury increases by the second. Hailstones, some as large as golf balls, begin to batter the roof and sidewalk. The wind’s screech rises to a fever pitch, and I hear things crashing and breaking outside.

The once-quaint street has become a vortex of wind, rain, and flying debris. The sky has turned an eerie, sickly black-purple.

Amidst this chaos, a horrifying thought strikes me like lightning. The kayak that came with Rose’s houseboat – it was missing when I looked for her earlier. My subconscious must’ve noticed it, but it didn’t register in my brain until now. Could Rose be out on the water in this apocalyptic storm? The thought sends a bolt of fear through me, sharper and more painful than any lightning strike could be.

“Koko!” I bellow loud enough to interrupt their argument. “Rose! I think she might be out on the water!”

Horror blooms across Koko’s face, and my gut twists as she confirms my fears. “She is,” Koko whispers, her anger forgotten. “She took a kayak out to photograph the lighthouse.” Her eyes meet mine, dark with understanding – Rose is alone on the ocean, trapped in a storm born of divine rage.

Without a word, I crash through the bakery door and sprint to my car, keys already in hand. The engine roars to life, and I peel out of the parking spot, my tires squealing on wet pavement. Rain hammers against the windshield as I race toward the marina, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Every second feels like an eternity. All I can think about is Rose, alone out in this storm.

I scramble onto her houseboat, my heart pounding. There, taped to the door, is a note in her handwriting confirming that she went to the lighthouse.

Without hesitation, I turn and dive into the harbor. As I hit the water, I let go of my human form. My body expands, tearing through my clothes as my tentacles unfurl. Rose’s note about the lighthouse gives me the barest hope, giving me a direction to focus my search. I surge into the open ocean, tasting the water, searching desperately for any trace of Rose.

I power through the turbulent sea toward the lighthouse, the storm’s fury muted underwater, though I can feel its force in the churning currents. My tentacles slice through the water as I push myself faster than I’ve ever moved, every sense straining to detect some sign of Rose. Then I taste it – a faint but unmistakable trace of her in the water. The current carrying her scent leads away from shore, out toward the deep water, and my heart sinks even as I race forward.

The storm abruptly ceases as I follow her trail as if struck by divine command. I break the surface, momentarily stunned by the transformation – angry clouds replaced by a clear blue sky, violent waves settling into gentle swells. Sunlight sparkles on the calming water as if the tempest had been merely a dream, though scattered debris and the lingering static in the air prove otherwise.

I dip back beneath the water and continue my search.

Far beyond the lighthouse, where the shore has disappeared into the horizon, something flashes beneath the surface – a bright pinpoint of light. As I draw closer, I spot her – a small figure clinging weakly to an overturned kayak, adrift in the vast emptiness of the open ocean. The mysterious glint becomes clear – a stone at her throat, catching sunlight as it dips in and out of the waves with each of her labored breaths.

I hurtle through the water toward Rose, pushing myself faster as I watch her struggling with the overturned kayak. Her movements are weak and uncoordinated as she fights to right it. She manages to heave it halfway over, water streaming from its hull, but the kayak slips from her trembling grip and crashes back upside down. That’s when I catch the faint, coppery scent of human blood. My gaze sharpens, focusing on the thin red ribbon trailing from her hair into the water. The injury hidden in her dark strands explains her weakness and her disorientation, and my heart pounds harder as I drive myself through the water, desperate to reach her.

Staying submerged and out of sight, I carefully position myself beneath her and the kayak. Using my tentacles, I gently grasp the craft and flip it right-side up with a swift motion. Still clinging to the side, Rose lets out a startled gasp as the kayak suddenly rights itself.

Before she can react, I wrap a tentacle around her waist, lifting her toward the now-upright kayak. Rose’s reaction is instant – her terrified screams pierce the water as she thrashes wildly, clawing at the tentacle in desperate panic.

Guilt twists in my gut at causing her such fear, but I tighten my hold, careful not to hurt her but determined not to lose my grip on her.

Despite her struggles, I manage to lift her smoothly into the kayak. My tentacle stays firm around her waist until she’s properly seated, then I gently loosen my grip, ensuring she’s stable before letting go completely.

I retreat beneath the waves, hoping my absence will calm her. Her screams fade to ragged gasps as she whips her head around, searching the water. Confusion replaces panic on her face as she tries to make sense of her mysterious rescue.

To my surprise and slight alarm, Rose leans over the side of the kayak, peering intently into the water. I sink lower, trying to stay out of sight, but I know it’s futile. My bulk is too large to hide completely.

I can see the moment Rose becomes aware of my continued presence. Her eyes widen again, but in awe and curiosity, not in fear this time.

Carefully, I extend a single tentacle from the darkness below, using it to push Rose’s kayak toward the marina. A small gasp escapes her lips as she tracks the movement, but she doesn’t try to escape. Maybe she’s too exhausted, or perhaps she understands she needs the help. Either way, my hearts race – I’ve never been this close to discovery before.

With smooth, powerful strokes, I propel Rose’s kayak through the sun-dappled water. The bright afternoon light forces me to stay deeper than I’d like, but we make swift progress back toward the harbor.

Once in the marina, I nudge the kayak against the side of her houseboat, making sure she can reach the ladder leading to her deck. Rose starts to climb out, but she’s weak and unsteady, swaying dangerously with each movement. Without thinking, I use my tentacle to give her a gentle boost upward. I can’t help but feel a twinge of amusement at the surprised squeak Rose lets out.

Once she’s safely aboard, I sink to the harbor floor, watching as she collapses into a deckchair. She’s pale and shaken, but alive – the cut in her hair doesn’t seem as bad as I’d feared. Relief floods through me, followed immediately by the urge to climb up there and check on her properly. The fact that I’d revealed myself seems distant and unimportant compared to ensuring that she’s okay.

After one final check to ensure she’s steady, I slip over to my house and silently pull myself aboard. Questions swarm my mind as my human form returns: How much did she see? What does she think saved her? And most importantly, how badly is she hurt? The memory of finding her so far out, alone after that storm, makes me shudder.

I rush inside my houseboat, leaving a trail of water in my wake. Grabbing the first towel I see, I dry off as quickly as possible, my eyes darting to the window facing Rose’s boat every few seconds. I throw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.