Atlantis Academy: The First Element

CHAPTER TEN

Warmth blooms in my chest. My ribcage thrums and hums at a high pitch, and the note spreads through my whole body.

I blink, and a chorus of notes erupt all around me, joining my body in song. It's different from the song I heard before, the song coming from that creature. That one was simple. An amateur melody, attempting to mimic whatever this song is.

This new song has a complex melody... with endless harmonies. Its vibrations dance through the air, the fog, the ocean's waves, the moon's rays. They dance through me.

I blink again, and the golden web of light I saw when I was on the Rock reappears all around me, shimmering in time with the new song.

Each golden thread in the web hums with a note... like vibrating strings on an instrument. And the undulating, shimmering web connects to everything... the water, the air, the moon... even me.

Tiny pinpricks of light sparkle and glow all along it, like a million fireflies, blinking in time with the beautiful song.

I draw another breath, and every cell in my body begins to dance with them.

This frozen state I'm in, this paralyzed ocean... it's wrong.

The golden strings have somehow been pulled too tightly. They're being held in an unnatural position to keep me frozen here. They're meant to move freely with the song, to ebb and flow like the waves themselves.

I shut my eyes, reaching. Reaching, somehow for those strings of light.

I can't move, but somehow... somehow I can touch them.

So much power.

So much energy.

Whatever high-pitched energetic vibration I imagine I feel when I touch a Redwood tree, this is the same feeling... only times a thousand.

I invite it in, welcome it into my body.

And it builds and builds and builds until my every cell is thrumming with the high-pitched notes, singing the same song as the ocean.

The blue orbs reappear beside me, staring at me with clear hunger. I should be afraid, but I'm not anymore. I'm calm. Paralyzed in body, yet dancing, dancing with this golden song.

I feel so alive.

A shrill, dissonant note rings out as the monster opens its mouth. It's sour breath hits me in the face as its jaw unhinges. Razor-sharp teeth glitter in the moonlight.

The creature attacks.

Its fangs are nearly on me as my arms shoot forward—no longer paralyzed—and I wrap my hands around the creature's neck.

A roar erupts from its throat as the gel-like waves begin to move again in slow motion.

The creature closes its mouth, and webbed hands grab mine, trying to pull me off.

I squeeze its neck harder, the golden song of the ocean coursing through me, giving me strength.

The creature roars again and finally breaks free. We both toss in the waves in slow motion, toward the sharp rocks ahead.

Its blue-green scaled shape dissolves into a whiter, softer, paler form. The neon blue eyes still glow from a few yards away as it opens its mouth.

It's singing.

It's the same song that convinced me to jump from the Rock. But it's not beautiful anymore. It sounds distorted. Dangerous, off-pitch, angry.