Chapter 32
It took Bayla a moment to realize where she was. The salt stinging her eyes was the hint she needed to put it together. Have I been on the land for so long that the sea feels foreign? What a distressing thought!
The frigid ocean certainly did nothing to make its wayward daughter feel welcome, as Bayla’s limp form was tossed to and fro by the current. She thrashed her legs and windmilled her arms before she gave up the effort. The surface was close, but her reduced strength was no match for the roiling waves. She had grabbed a half-lungful of air, so she was not in such dire straits as when Vince had hauled her from the surf. However, that supply would not last much longer.
Besides, the dark shape circling her in the water was even more pressing.
Bayla had transformed more times than was advisable since arriving on Fin Island, so she could feel the tingling sensation coming on. She could even hold it off, though she did wonder why. Why bother keeping my morphic field intact if I am sure to drown and become fodder for whatever that is?
Hoping that the Ivory Witch has wrong again, Bayla let the sensation flow into her legs, willing her whole body to shift. A brilliant golden light engulfed her, and the tingling doubled and redoubled by the moment. Come now! Keep moving up my body! Let me be myself again! I shall teach this monster not to trifle with the queens of the sea!
As with many things since arriving on Fin Island, the transformation magic was a disappointment. She found herself again no larger than a porpoise with a Landmaiden’s top merged to a sad parody of her true form.
At least I can move my lower half this time! Her head breached the surface, and wonderful oxygen flooded her lungs.
“Princess Wakerider!” Nanora hovered overhead on her staff, relief written on her face. “Thank the Creator! We need to get you away before—”
Bayla disregarded the witch and dove back under. She has no summons that can swim, and if I was a useless swimmer, she would be too.
As she opened her eyes, Bayla realized that she was not entirely unchanged. The salt water lost its sting, letting her take in her environment. The channel between the land and the light tower was narrow, but surprisingly deep. She could only just see the ocean floor, and there was no sign of her enemy. A desperate series of whistles and clicks filled the water around her as she scanned, trying to find any hint of the beast.
She finally spotted him, the reflected soundwaves forming an image that turned her blood cold. A triangular head that was nearly as large as her shrunken form cut effortlessly through the water. Fore and aft flippers steered the enormous beast it as its mighty, oarlike tail drove it through the water.
Bayla let out a squeal that would have earned her a rebuke back home. Snake-whale. What is one of the elders of the deep doing here?
Bayla could not pretend to understand everything from the radio show, but she had gotten the impression that such ocean-going reptiles simply did not exist on Earth. Another summon? Who else could command such a creature besides a witch of Nanora’s order?
Even as her heart beat harder at the prospect of facing a snake-whale without her pod, Bayla had the presence of mind to feel vindicated. She was right not to trust the witches. Had Nanora not just dumped her into the drink?
Bayla shook her head, annoyed at the drag from her long, onyx locks. Later. You can tell Vincemeyer all about it.
The snake-whale wasted no time, drawing a bead right on her. Its enormous tail fin beat the water at a speed a true orca might struggle to match. She beat her tail again, trying to remember what her mother had said about the snake-whales. They usually stayed clear of the Kelp Forest since their sheer size got them tangled in the plants. They have venom, but if he bites me as I am now, there will be nothing left to poison! It is larger than me, faster than me, and does not seem worried about taking me alive!
As the snake-whale closed in, Bayla realized did have one advantage. No mere summon can best my magic! She did not need to economize her water shaping with the sea on all sides of her. A command drew a mass as long as her body around her right arm, which she solidified into a pseudo-metal of the same sort as Vince’s enchanted knife. She whirled about and bolted right towards the beast, her arm held level with its body. A blade like this could cut through any sailing vessel in Avalas! Try this on!
The point of her razor-sharp blade hit something a foot from the green and white reptile’s flank with such force that her arm was nearly ripped from its socket. The impact spun her around again, and in her shock, the air fled from her lungs in a panicked cloud of bubbles. Bayla had the presence of mind not to breathe in, but she was still dazed from the jarring blow. What did I hit?
An unexpected force drove her upwards. Bayla’s right arm screamed at being yanked around so violently, but she breached the surface again.
Nanora no longer looked relieved. “Princess, that was a—”
“Snake-whale,” spat Bayla. “I am aware.” Still finding herself resting on a solid platform, she twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of her enemy. “I am grateful for your assistance,” she added with obvious reluctance.
Nanora cocked her head. “What assistance?”
Bayla knocked on the solid mass of seawater beneath her, producing a wooden thump. “This platform, you…”
Her eyes widened, and Bayla slid off the false island like a seal leaving an ice floe. She was not a moment too soon, as the circular form folded on itself to create a solid, transparent sphere.
Now that she knew to listen for it, Bayla could feel an undertone beneath the call of the water all about her. It answered her command, but another voice in a foreign tongue spoke to it and commanded it as she did.
The water before her solidified again, and it took a sheer act of will to override the snake-whale’s magic and liquify the sea again. She passed through, finding the seawater’s consistency thicker than ought to have been possible. She twisted again, finding that her hybrid form had some advantages. She could turn with barely an effort, letting her dodge the next lunge of the summoned snake-whale.
Her dark eyes met the enormous orb of the passing reptile. The leviathan had the same stiff motions and dead eyes of the other summons she had encountered. A creature without a soul, as much a machine as Vince’s car. That was her chance, even if it seemed slimmer by the moment.
Thinking of the Meyer-mobile led Bayla to an important question.
Where is my champion when I need him?
*****************
“Holy crap, Cadborosaurus is real.” Vince could just make out Luis’ murmur.
“You didn’t believe already?” countered Sergeant Murphy, much more loudly. “Then why waste time on that show?”
Vince ignored them both, his legs already carrying him towards the beach. He tossed aside his earlier concerns about braving the frigid waves along with his backpack and most of his clothes. “Bayla!”
The heat rose up in Vince’s limbs again, the sensation of energy looking for a vent becoming almost unbearable. This time he could feel the voice of the sea, the spraying surf collecting across his skin.
Stop it, stop it! You don’t know long it can last this time! He was not sure if it was his natural concern for Bayla or his new calling as a champion that made the idea of armoring up so appealing, but he could not give in to the instinct.
He stopped right at the water’s edge to try and get a bead on Bayla and her tormenter. Bayla popped above the waves in her mermaid form, seemingly laying on something solid.
“Bayla!” The cheer of celebration was swallowed by the crashing waves, as was Bayla an instant before a set of jaws like a beartrap just missed closing on her tail fluke.
“You bastard!” Vince finally let the impulse have its way, the smooth pseudo-metal wrapping all about him. His breath echoed in the enclosed helmet as he dove beneath the waves.
By all rights, he realized an instant later, this should have been the end of him. Diving into the sea in full armor was an excellent way of committing suicide. He whispered a prayer of thanks as he realized that his first instinct had not doomed him. His hydrodynamic armor and enhanced strength let him cut through the waves as easily as he normally walked down the street.
A piercing wail echoed all about Vince, sounding almost like a curse. As he drew closer, he realized he could make out a few scattered words.
“Snake… up your… motherless… son of…”
He caught the source of the racket, Bayla’s white spots making her stand out in the reflected sunlight. The mermaid darted around the sea monster, reminding Vince of crows mobbing an eagle. The sea distorted around them as the two hurled Aqua Armor weapons at each other, only for the hardened forms to dissipate before they could find their mark.
It’s a stalemate, but Lord knows how long Bayla can stand up to that!
Unfortunately for Vince, he was so focused on his destination that he missed the shadowy form approaching from below. He only felt the enormous impact that sent a ripple through his armor and flung him ten feet out of the water. He floated there as his momentum bled off and gravity struggled to reclaim him, snapping out of his daze just in time to realize he was not alone.
Marazza floated there next to him, his glassy eyes full of predatory glee.
“I am back,” rumbled the shark.
“I—”
Marazza drove Vince back down into the beach with a spike worthy of a champion volleyball player, cutting off Vince’s reply. His Aqua Armor rippled again, briefly revealing the panic in his eyes. He was too stunned to move as Marazza emerged from the surf, unstrapping an enormous sword from his back.
“I am back,” he repeated. “You will wish I was not.”
Chapter 33
Bayla saw none of Vince’s fight with the legged shark, occupied as she was with avoiding the snake-whale’s triangular jaws. The two had reached a stalemate with their respective water manipulation. Every underwater arrow she created met one of the summon’s shields, while she could disrupt his attempts to trap her by softening his hardening water.
It is little comfort that he seems content to take me alive,. Not if what Nanora said about my podmates is true. Her mermaid form was especially irksome; if she had been full sized, she would have been a match for the artificial beast. If only I were my true self, I could simply ram him! I have burst sharks open, and he is not nearly as well-armored!
Bayla breached the surface, which was damned inconvenient with a blowhole on the front of her face instead of on top. Nanora was shouting something or other at her, but her ears were too full of water to make it out, and the snake-whale gave her no time to clear them. A beat of her fluke sent her underwater again. Another humiliation that would be unnecessary if I could only change back!
Bayla could almost hear her mother’s voice rebuking her. Stop whining and figure out what you can do! It is unseemly to cry like a seagull!
Bayla’s annoyed growl sent bubbles floating towards the surface. Even a world away, Mother is irritatingly correct. Very well, I will adapt.
She tucked her arms at her sides, making herself something approaching hydrodynamic. Powerful strokes of her tail put some distance between her and the circling snake-whale, who had not anticipated the maneuver. With some distance between them, she could take in their battleground with sight and echolocation. The silty water did not run especially deep, especially closer to shore.
A predatory grin crossed Bayla’s face. This will be a gamble, but I should be able to pull it off. She shot forward again, making a line straight for the beast. She could see Nanora flitting about her staff uselessly, her voice just audible above the rushing waves. Bayla could not make out what the redhead was shouting, but she also did not much care. The witch speaks much but says little.
The water hardened around her again, but this time she leapt from the sea’s cold embrace in a perfect arc. “Witch! Summon your drake on the beach and be ready!”
Bayla could only hope Nanora understood as her momentum carried her back underwater. Her vision cleared, the snake-whale appearing to her left as a flash of dark green and white. The water before her formed into a wall, but with her speed from the jump, she was able to juke around the structure’s edge. Her path carried her towards the shoreline. She lost sight of her foe in the swirling sand, but her echolocation told her the summon had followed her path.
Bayla had not slowed one iota. Praying that she would stop short of the jagged rocks on the beach, she launched herself out of the water. Her prayer came true, though landing chest first drove the air from her lungs. A dark, triangular head poked out of the water, a warm spray flying from the snake-whale’s nostrils as it finally came up for air.
“You fell for it,” wheezed Bayla as she thrust out her arm. Her muscles strained as she commanded the waters around the snake-whale with all her might. She did not harden it or reshape it into weapons; the beast had shown itself more than able to counter that. Instead, she simply commanded it to flow away from the creature.
A real elder sea drake might have seen the move coming, or at the least would have been faster to counter it. The summon found itself stranded in a pocket of air and sand, its enormous weight already pressing down on it. Its fins churned the wet sand to no effect; the beast was the size of a gray whale, and it was far too large to move on land.
“Being sm-small has some advantages,” grunted Bayla. The summon gave her no time to gloat; the counter-order to flood it again screamed at the seas, and only her best efforts kept the tide at bay. “Witch! Where is your drake? I cannot last long!”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
A bass rumble from behind revealed Phosphata stepping from its summoning portal, the sky-drake striding onto the beach on all fours.
Nanora zipped into view, making Bayla wonder how she kept her balance on the narrow pole. “Phosphata, tear that summon to shreds!”
Phosphata responded at once, rearing up on her hind legs and flapping her wings. The magic concentrated the air currents, sending barely-visible waves down at the stranded beast. The leathery skin of the snake-whale bled golden sparks from a half-dozen gouges wounds, and its thunderous bellow of pain echoed across Greene Point.
Bayla’s eyes widened. “He still lives!”
Nanora’s eyes widened. “Phosphata, again!”
The summon obeyed her mistress’ command, sending another wave of punishment down on the stranded snake-whale. More wounds opened across it, but it did not waver in its fight to wrest command from Bayla.
“The wounds are too shallow,” said Nanora.
Bayla had already figured as much. Her forehead was slick with perspiration as much as with the seawater, her focus flagging under the magic game of tug-of-war. “Fine, if you want the water back so badly, you may have it!”
The seas flooded back over the snake-whale. Bayla had never seen an iron maiden before, but she had invented much the same concept on the fly. Even as she released command of the water, she had reshaped the first wave into a half-dozen spikes as long as her body.
At least one struck something vital, and with a last muffled rumble, the summon vanished in an explosion of golden light.
Bayla flopped down onto the sand, her chest heaving like she had been hiking again.
Nanora landed next to the mer-orca, smiling down at her. “That was an excellent plan, Princess Wakerider. I am only sorry that Phosphata could not finish the job.”
Bayla cast a withering gaze at the witch, before letting out a resigned sigh. It is no fun to berate her when she does it herself. “You provided some aid. Though, could you have your beast cast a shadow on me? It is a hot day.”
Nanora shook her head. “Vince is in terrible danger!”
A surge of panic banished the aches from Bayla’s limbs. She glanced all around, her voice seizing. “What? Where is he?”
The answer came as a flurry of gunshots echoed from the clearing above.
*************************
“Stop right there!” barked Murphy.
“Holy shit,” said Luis.
Marazza paid the sheriff no mind. Vince could not be sure he even heard the warning, though he was occupied with blocking the shark’s oversized sword. He ducked under one slash, but Marazza halted his momentum and brought it crashing against Vince’s shoulder with a wicked backhand. His armor still held, and that powerful bursting sensation still flowed through him, but he could feel it starting to ebb. Experience had taught him that he would still have his enhanced strength once the Aqua Armor failed, but that would do nothing to protect him from blows that sent ripples through his pseudo-metallic armor.
Vince had given ground to the wide arcs Marazza’s sword traced through the air, which had sent him back onto the grassy plain that overlooked the beach. The shark’s strength meant that he recovered from each swing more quickly than he ought to have, and he showed no signs of tiring.
“I warned you!” shouted Murphy.
Marazza stumbled under the barrage as bullets tore deep furrows in his arms and chest, to Vince’s relief. I almost thought that gun would be pointed at me. Even as his ears rang in his watery helmet, the shark finally relented from his attacks.
He was significantly less relieved at how casually the shark shrugged off Murphy’s attack. Blood flowed from the new gashes, but Vince swore they were already filling back in.
Murphy was no more pleased than Vince by this development, and the sheriff’s face reminded Vince of a startled rabbit. Marazza’s enormous teeth showed as the predator enjoyed the terrified reaction of his prey.
That meant that Murphy bought him more time with the aftermath of the attack than the gunfire itself. Guess I owe him one. Repeating the trick from the blackberry bushes, he whipped out his blade, the moist sea air extending the Bowie knife into a curving sword like a scimitar. The Aqua Armor did not seem to readily form in straight lines.
Oh well. It’ll do! Vince surged forward, his body exploding with magically enhanced power. The shark’s grin faded an instant before raising the oversized sword to parry his strike. Sparks danced through the air around them, which struck Vince as strange. The blade was not really metal. Just how much did it resemble the material it stood in for?
Whatever his sword was, it held under the pressure of the two superhumans’ strength. Neither was willing to try for another strike, since that would mean disengaging from the clash. Both seemed to have decided that a shoving match would leave them the least exposed.
Vince wished he had taken up sword fighting when Will had offered it. He was not sure how to end this bind; every time he shifted to break the impasse, Marazza was able to twist the business end of the enormous sword to face him. As much as his punches and kicks affect this armor, that thing’d cut me in half!
“That is a new trick,” said Marazza an instant before an enormous foot lashed out, catching Vince in the gut. His armor rippled, but it held.
“Glad you like it,” snapped Vince. He was forced to focus his efforts into the reinforcing his blade.
“I did not say I liked it,” said Marazza with a grunt as he redoubled his efforts. “I only said it is a new trick.”
“Kick his ass, man!” shouted Luis from the sidelines.
Luis’ words increased the heat in Vince’s limbs, an instinct within him commanding that he conquer his foe. The extended shoving match had given him a chance to recognize the sword as the decorative monstrosity that had adorned Schneider’s wall.
“What’d you do to Will?” demanded Vince.
“Will?” asked Marazza.
“The blacksmith! The one you stole this blade from!” he shouted.
“He lives,” said Marazza, before adding, “at least, he did when last I saw him.”
Vince saw red. Was the shark trying to goad him, or being dense? I can’t tell! If he hurt Will because of me…
More sparks filled the air accompanied by the sound of straining metal. Vince wore his own predatory grin under the enclosed helmet.
“Leave it to a big idiot like you to choose the worst weapon in that shop,” said Vince.
Marazza’s eyes narrowed. “This is the only one to challenge your armor.”
“Maybe,” said Vince, “but have you ever heard of a showpiece?”
“What?” Marazza tilted his head.
Vince’s only reply was to drop his weapon and roll to the right. He was a fraction of a second ahead of the descending blade. Marazza cried out as he was thrown off balance by the sudden shift in weight, and the enormous blade buried itself in the soft soil.
“It’s not a real sword, you dummy,” said Vince. “It’s only meant to look good on a wall!”
“You will see how real it is!” Marazza struggled to force his way out of the bind, his muscles clenching as he sought to free his sword from its loamy trap.
A final wrench brought the sword’s hilt up to face Vince. The rest of the blade did not join it, a final metallic shriek of protest marking the end of the weapon.
“I guess I will!” Vince sprang at his foe, catching him across the face with an armored right hook. Teeth rocketed from Marazza’s jaw, and the useless sword hilt fell from the shark’s numbed hands.
Vince did not recognize the triumphant cackle as his own voice. The noise sounded savage as it echoed in the enclosed helmet. The heat on his skin redoubled, instincts roaring at him to pound his foe into paste.
If he had been thinking clearly, he would have gone for his dropped sword to finish the contest with a single slice. However, the heady mix of power and adrenaline did not have him thinking clearly. If he could have voiced his thoughts at all, it was that he was done being terrorized by this monster, that he would show Marazza who was boss. This was his island, his home, hell, it was his client the shark had robbed!
That frustration boiled over. He gave Marazza no quarter, hammering him over and over again with bone-breaking punches that would have snapped a normal man in half. The quieted, rational part of Vince’s mind was astounded at the punishment the shark could absorb.
Harder! He had to hit harder! The order echoed through his mind, the heat in his skin becoming unbearable. He needed some relief; he felt like he was going to cook in the faux-metal suit.
As if on command, he felt the whipping sea breeze tousling his blond hair. Vince realized that his armor had failed again, but he was already committed to his next punch. He cried out as Marazza’s sharp skin ripped apart his knuckles, the pain forcing him back.
Vince had been so focused on beating Marazza to a pulp that he had not taken much stock of the shark’s state. One of his dead eyes was nearly swollen shut, and his predatory smile was missing half its teeth. Somehow, it gave him an even more terrifying air. After all, Vince realized he had recovered from his beating without a scratch.
Marazza cracked his knuckles. “It is my turn now.”
Chapter 34
Marazza did not waste his opportunity, going right for the kill. Vince could tell the shark enjoyed a good scrap, but without his armor, Vince was no longer ‘good prey’. Compared to before, he felt like he was moving through molasses, and the breeze from Marazza’s near misses promised his doom if the shark connected. Still, he had no better options than to weave around the blows. The level field gave him nowhere to hide, and there was nothing to obstruct the shark’s assault.
“Come now, Landman,” said Marazza. His gap-toothed mouth was starting to fill in with fresh teeth, and most of his gunshot wounds had vanished. “You were happy to pummel me. Are you so afraid of one little punch?”
Vince did not respond; he did not have the breath to waste. His mind reeled, the burning of his Champion armor replaced with an abiding panic. I wasted my shot like an idiot, and now it’s all over. He’s going to get Bayla…
His guts seized as he realized he had no idea what had become of Bayla and that enormous sea serpent. If she’s even still alive!
Vince knew he needed to focus on the fight, but he felt compelled to glance towards the sea. It felt like an echo of the roar that had compelled him to battle before, twisting his neck.
Marazza punished him for the lapse, hammering him in the gut. Vince was sent sprawling.
One punch. He got me again with one punch! He had to amend that as he rolled back onto his feet. This time he was not completely broken inside like back at the wharf, but that was little comfort to his aching chest.
“Should’ve stayed back at the van,” said Luis, his voice just audible to Vince’s ears.
Marazza’s sensitive hearing tracked the unexpected voice, and the shark’s head snapped around. It hit Vince in that moment how eerily quiet Marazza was. He spoke, but he rarely did more than let out a sigh. Combined with his glassy eyes, it gave him an uncanny quality.
It made the shark’s hungry grin all the more off putting. “You are rather large and fatty.”
“Wh-what’s it to you?” he managed in reply.
“Stay,” he ordered. “I will need a feast to heal myself when this is done. Or run? It might be more diverting.”
Vince was the only one present who understood the Spanish curse Luis stammered out.
“Not on my watch!” Murphy stepped in between them and snapped off another shot from his pistol. It drilled into Marazza’s chest, joining its cousins in lodging itself in his flesh.
“You are a troublesome one,” said Marazza, spitting out a stream of blood. “You will be devoured too.”
Murphy and Luis were united in a shared curse as both backed away from Marazza.
The light caliber gun did not pierce anything vital, but it did give Vince a chance to tackle Marazza from behind. Abrasive skin sliced into his cheek, but he did not care. Unlike with the Kaleeko, Marazza could not shrug off the attack. He simply was not massive enough.
“Get out of here,” snapped Vince. “Go, call the FBI like Murphy wanted, do—”
The blow to Vince’s jaw rattled his teeth, sending him flying again. He came back down to Earth again, rolling over twice before coming to a stop.
Marazza spun around, though he spared a glance over his broad shoulder. “Do not use that weapon again, and I will eat you quickly.” He rushed forwards, his feet tearing up clods of grass and soil.
Vince knew this was it. He called out to the water in the damp air all around him, begging it to form that armor again. Make me invincible again, make me the Champion! I promise I’ll end it quick this time!
The droplets ignored his call. The magic felt almost sluggish, his exhaustion preventing him from taking a firm grip on the salty spray. The call of the sea felt slurred, just outside of his reach.
“What about me?” he asked, getting to his feet again, though more slowly this time. “How are you going to eat me?”
That brought the shark up short, and he stopped mid-charge to consider Vince’s words. “I cannot decide. You are hard and soft at once. Annoying and dangerous. I will wait until I have you.”
Vince nodded once, scanning the slope down to the beach behind him. “Well, you’re giving me no reason to surrender.”
The shark cocked his head. “Who wants you to surrender? You are sometimes good prey, sometimes not. That is interesting; most beasts are one or the other.”
“Then let’s play some tag,” said Vince before leaping off the short cliff. The sand cushioned his fall a bit, as did his newfound strength, but his knees protested the rash maneuver. Gonna feel that in the morning.
First he would have to make it to morning, and the shark was not about let him escape so easily. Marazza was out of words for Vince. He did not seem especially talkative in general. He launched himself forwards at Vince, and Vince was sure he was about to be made a pancake.
Something invisible slammed into Marazza at the last moment, sending him flying off track. The shark landed upright, his broadfeet plowing furrows in the sand.
Vince did not have time to wonder what had delivered him before a throaty rumble boomed across the beach. The pterosaur was a welcome sight, as was the redheaded witch who helped Vince back up.
“Phosphata! Kill that brute!” The sky drake rumbled its ascent and galloped ahead on all fours before resuming its attack. Nanora winced as she took Vince in. “Vince! You look awful.”
“Th-thanks,” he said as he staggered to his feet. “Where’s Bayla?”
The mer-orca emerged from the surf, beaching herself next to them. “There are no other summons that I can see.” Her eyes widened as she took Vince in. She spared a glance at Marazza and Phosphata. “I see the shark still lives.”
“That he does,” said Vince, a note of defeat in his voice. “I-I blew it, Bayla. The armor’s gone, and I can’t fight him like this.”
“Maybe Phosphata will be enough?” asked Nanora, sounding hopeful.
Bayla ignored Nanora, her dark eyes turning on Vince. “Not like that, you cannot. Get over here.”
Vince hesitated a moment, but he felt that afterglow of the rage again and knelt at her side. Bayla gathered the abundant seawater in her hands and pressed it to against his savaged cheek. He hissed at the salt’s sting, but it vanished after a moment.
“Is that sufficient?” she asked.
He shook his head, and even he was shocked by the darkening bruise spreading across his stomach. “Are you going to change back? We could use your weapons about now.”
“I…” Bayla frowned.
“Absolutely not!” Nanora’s voice was nearly a shriek. “How you have not ripped yourself to shreds is beyond me! You should wait at least an hour, and even that would be a risk.”
Vince joined Bayla in frowning, before snapping his fingers triumphantly. “I’ve got it. He’s after you, right? I bet you could swim circles around him, and all that water is just more material for your magic, right? We could lure him in.”
She spared a look towards the shark and shuddered.
Vince nodded, understanding immediately. “If you’re afraid—”
Bayla’s pale face turned scarlet. “Afraid? Of some imitator who copied my pod’s magic? Never!”
“Of course not,” said Vince. “It is maybe a bit dangerous, what with you giving me your strength and all…”
“I am not afraid,” she insisted. “However, that is your job.” She waved at the shark dismissively. “Fighting this Marazza is simply beneath my dignity.”
“Besides,” said Nanora, “if he got the better of her, we would have no way of catching up with him. They would simply vanish.”
If I had my armor, maybe… No, he completely owned me. “I guess. Better not to fight in his home turf.”
“Get the better of me?” Bayla rose to what amounted to knees in her strange anatomy, fixing Nanora with an imperious glare. “No mere shark is a threat to me! Strength or no, dignity or no! I shall face him and prove it.” Her form began to glow, the brilliant glare spreading down from her waist to her tail. However, the lightshow ended nearly as soon as it began, and Bayla cried out in obvious pain.
Vince stifled a curse for Nanora’s sake, but he finally saw what Nanora had warned them of. Bayla’s bottom half looked unchanged, but the way it thrashed around simply looked wrong. He had figured out where her joints were located, but she bent and twisted in entirely different spots.
“Princess!” Nanora ran a hand down her flank, and Vince did not like the way her brow furrowed. “I think you are stable for now. I think; I have never seen a morphic field so distorted before.”
“Can’t she heal herself?” asked Vince.
“There is nothing to heal,” said Nanora. “Healing magic restores a body to its natural state. Right now, this twisted form is her natural body.”
It was not only her bottom half showed signs of change. Bayla bit her lip with now completely human teeth, and her left eye spot was noticeably smaller than before. Lucky for her, or she might’ve sliced her lip clean off. He bent down to inspect her, and she gripped his hand like a shipwreck survivor would grasp at a life preserver.
“Vince,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong despite it all.
“Yes?”
She met his eyes, her eyes filled with determination. “Vince, there is a reason I made you my Champion.”
“Yeah, lack of options,” he muttered.
“No! If I had been with Luis, I would have never considered it. Or Murphy, or this witch.” Nanora’s eyes narrowed at the slight, but she continued her inspection of Bayla’s distorted body. “I cannot join you, but I know you can do it. Be my tooth and fluke. Slay that shark and save us all.”
He wanted to question her assessment, but there was something in her delivery that allowed for no disagreement. “Alright, Bayla. But how do I do that without my armor?”
She grinned wryly at him, even as her brow became slick with sweat. “Most Champions cannot even form the full armor like you have. They get by on their weapons. However, if you must be difficult…” She finally released his hand and gestured towards the water. The armor formed around him again for a moment, before there was another pop, soaking him through.
“Bayla?” he asked, more concerned than annoyed.
“Drown it all in the Abyss,” she cursed. “It is like before; I cannot focus enough. Let me try again.” The water gathered in his hand, forming a sword that was a twin for the weapon he had tossed aside while his battle high had ruled him. “That is all I can manage.”
“It’s enough,” said Vince. He did not believe a word of it, but Bayla’s confidence was infectious. She needs me, and that’s all there is to it.