17.Rocky Waters

17. Rocky Waters

Samson and I end up climbing aboard the S.S. Lying Bastard, but this voyage is particularly ill-fated. Not only does the boat rock violently against the restless waves, I can barely keep Samson on his side of the boat and away from his father.

“How did you find us?” I wonder.

"I didn't," Solis replies simply.

Samson has his own theory. "This is the closest water nymph community to the university. You’re a water nymph and we needed somewhere to lay low. Checking here isn’t a bad idea.”

"Argyle, I'm not chasing after you two," Solis insists, apparently focusing on me after realizing his son isn't going to be swayed.

Even with the waves around us and the commotion in the background, I hear Samson snort beside me as he crosses his arms. I find myself doing the same, not inclined to giving the professor the benefit of the doubt.

Of course, the next time rough waters crash against the boat, I'm nearly knocked off my feet. I’ve spent my life gliding through water, not bouncing around on clunky human vessels! It's so jarring. The sound of crashing waves easily fades into the background after growing up in the sea, but the roaring engine sounds so unnatural out here.

I'm even starting to feel a little queasy. Sea sickness? Yeah, I get it now. Who knew a water nymph could get seasick?

Before I can fall flat on my face, an arm wraps around my waist. “I’ve got you.” Samson's dark eyes snap to mine, forgetting about everything else as he focuses on steadying me.

But the moment is short-lived. Solis steps closer in concern. “Are you alright—”

“Stay away from us!” Samson growls.

Solis raises his hands in surrender, backing off. I can feel Samson's muscles tense beside me, and I'm not sure whether I'm steadying myself or him when the boat rocks again and I grip his arm for balance.

There's room for all three of us on the deck, but it doesn't feel like an enormous amount of space, especially when the two people I'm on board with are a feuding father and son.

"Never would have guessed you were Argyle’s teacher." Samson sneers. "Surprised they let you teach to begin with, but you’re teaching ethics? Really?"

"Things have changed,” Solis says. “Is there a better ethics teacher than someone who broke all the rules and lost everything because of it? If anyone knows the importance of acting ethically, it's me, even if I learned the hard way."

"Save it. You haven't been acting very ethically. Keeping secrets. Trying to keep tabs on me through Argyle."

"Please, let me explain.”

"If the school knew who you really were—"

"They already know!" he shouts. The older man nods to me. "Your friend Liam often coaches struggling casters during his office hours. I do something similar. When the professors fear a student is tempted to use magic improperly, I'm there to educate them on the dangers."

For a university to hire him, Solis either needed to hide his colorful history like Samson believed, or the administration decided his checkered past could be useful to deter magical students from making the same mistakes. It would also explain why they didn't investigate Samson's anonymous complaint. The school already knew exactly who the professor was—or who he had been.

But that doesn’t mean I trust the man in front of us.

He never lied to me outright, sure. It's not like I ever asked, 'hey, do you have an estranged son? Is it anyone I know?'

But the omission is pretty glaring.

"Why should I believe you? You've been manipulating me this whole time. Suggesting things, encouraging me to get closer to Samson, and you never once mentioned that this was personal for you or that your son was involved."

"I only want to help," Solis insists. “I'm not here because of you. All I want is to fix my mistakes.”

"Really? You call this an improvement?" Samson asks, throwing his hands out towards the landslide’s destruction of the cliffside. "All you do is make things worse!"

Landslides and family reunions are too much to handle at the same time. The caster beside me is hitting a breaking point. Even out here with the sea mist, the heat radiating off him is palpable as he struggles to contain his power. Flames flicker dangerously on his arms when I reach out to intervene.

"Samson!"

He shakes his head, stepping away from me. "Stay back. I don’t want to hurt you."

"Not afraid of you. Water magic, remember?" I inch towards him as he leans away. "Don't let him have this power over you."

"Sounds like a good plan." He gives me a tight smile. "Really not sure I can follow through."

"Look at me." I swing around in front of him, trying to block his father from view. “Focus on me.”

I watch as he concentrates on me and struggles to gain control, before shaking his head. "Just use your powers," he grits out finally. "Turn the sprinklers on."

"No," I say firmly. “You can do it.”

Samson said focusing on me helped after seeing his father and me talking on campus. Even though I’d come to the wrong conclusion and was angry, I still helped him calm down. If he could keep his powers in check then, he can do it now. He’s been gaining more control, all he has to do is see that and trust himself.

The flames running up and down his arms grow smaller as I watch him take deep breaths and fight to rein the magic in. The flames extinguish and he regains control.

"We have work to do," Samson tells his father. "You aren't worth our time."

"I'm here to assist. I can contribute, I'm a rockbrand."

"Help?" Samson scoffs. "Do you mean clean up the mess you made?"

"I didn’t cause any of this! The stability of the cliffside is weakening. The same thing causing the damage in the water is doing this. If we work together—"

"Together? Fuck that."

But there's no time to argue.

A spray of gritty rock and dirt interrupts us, thunking down on the boat deck with a clatter. More debris rains down around us, and I have to duck to avoid getting struck. A large chunk of stone plummets down into the water beside us with a mighty splash.

As one, all three of us look up to see the landslide bearing down on us, the damage getting closer to the boat. Being distracted won't do us any favors right now.

"If you want to help, then help!" I shout to Solis.

Solis springs into action as I do, moving to the edge of the boat. I may not trust him as much as I once did when I thought he was just my well-meaning professor, but we work together well enough as we coordinate our efforts and use different magics together to turn the chaos unfolding before us into a more controlled event.

"Keys!" Samson shouts behind us. "Where are the boat keys?"

"Should be—" the professor doesn't get to finish.

A shadow falls over us. A massive boulder plummets down towards the boat!

Solis throws his hands up, stopping the boulder's descent with his rock magic. The boulder wobbles precariously above us, highlighted by the weak brown glow of the professor's magic, trapped between the destruction dragging it down and Solis exerting control and moving it in a different direction, away from the boat.

Just as the boulder starts pulling free from the rest of the falling earth, the glow disappears and the boulder escapes, hurtling down towards us with alarming speed. Crap! I struggle to ready a wave of water in time to deflect the boulder, but Solis regains his hold on it, straining to keep it aloft.

"Where the fuck are the keys," Samson growls behind us.

"Control it," I order the professor.

"I—I'm trying." Solis stammers, his glasses askew, a tremor in his hands that belies the calm demeanor he's always projected.

What's going on? Why is this boulder so difficult for him to manage? It should be no trouble at all for a branded caster like him. The professor should have enough control to—

Control. It hits me then. Branded casters don't falter—not like this. Yet Solis is floundering, just like his son, unable to work together with his magic reliably, especially in emotional situations.

"You don't have control over your powers."

The words sound quiet when they leave my lips, but they must be loud enough because I hear a string of curses from Samson.

"Before, I wasn't like this... I had control," Solis confesses. "The rock element blessed me… but my powers weren't strong enough for my damn pride."

Realizing that one of us needs to keep the situation above under control, I turn back to the sight above. The boulder blocks my view, even as it shakes and hovers precariously under Solis's best efforts to manipulate it. I hop on the side of the ship, trying to gain enough height to see beyond the looming threat.

Calling forth the water, I direct my attention to what I can see of the falling earth and debris. If I can move as much as possible away from the boulder, that should ease the pressure pulling it down and make it easier to control.

Since the professor's powers are erratic right now, I don't want to use my own magic directly on the boulder in case a reaction occurs.

The professor keeps talking behind me. "I followed the wrong path, chased impossible promises, and lost everything. Instead of making my magic stronger, it became unsteady. I still haven't fully recovered."

I wish I didn't have other things to worry about and could focus on Samson. How is he handling this news? He and his dad are in the same boat and not just literally.

"Solis, focus!" I shout back at him.

It sounds like he starts saying something, or maybe Samson does. I don't hear the words.

Solis manages to divert the boulder, and it plummets into the water right in front of me. Like right in front of me . Sweet Poseidon, that was close.

The impact sends a towering splash my way, and the boat lurches violently. Before I can react, I'm tumbling over the edge and into the churning waters below.

I plunge into the dark depths of the water, sinking like a stone. When I plunge down far enough that the chaos above fades into a muffled roar, I regain my bearings.

Visibility is limited here. The water is murky and dark, the normally vibrant blues and greens muted by an ominous shadow. I've swam in these waters since I was young. There's something off now.

My gills appear whenever I'm submerged in water, so there's no need to worry about breathing. I propel myself downward where the blackness grows stronger.

And then I see it - a swirling, inky blackness that seems to be consuming everything in its path. The rot.

Hardened black chunks surround dying coral that emit wisps of black sickness. My heart sinks as I take in the devastation. Kelp and sea plants that used to thrive are now smothered in dark sludge. The fish that darted among the coral, the sea creatures, they're all gone, driven away by the toxic muck poisoning Calypso Bay.

Bubbles appear, the water beside me disturbed. I see something and then I feel something against my waist. I tense, but it's not the rot. Samson. He's down in the water with me, hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me up.

We breach the surface together, Samson gasping for breath as we tread water. I'm not sure where our little rowboat has gone, and Solis isn't here. The professor's boat is now a speck on the horizon, growing smaller by the second as it sails away. Solis must have decided to leave us behind.

Samson stares at the vessel until it vanishes from our view. "Dammit, Dad."