Flailing

Chapter Thirteen: Upriver | Part 7

“What happened to you, Seerla?” Wyex, the green-scaled Dragonfolk, sneered.

“What happened to you, calling me a filthy name like that? I should tell Seryllis. She’d dump you in a heartbeat—a heartbeat I’m not sure you have, given the way you’ve been treating Thirtyx. You learned to respect me all those years ago! Why can’t you respect him?”

“Because I’m not an idiot!” Wyex pounded his fist on the hull, and the boat gave an unsettling lurch. “Veriths are after the king, getting closer to him than anyone’s gotten in decades. Meanwhile, the prince and princess are feeding royal secrets to a Verith, and they’re shocked their father is in danger. How stupid can they get?”

“Oh, sure, call Rhea and Benn the stupid ones.” Thirtyx, again emboldened by Seerla’s sharp wit, said the words almost lazily. “Aren’t they currently somewhere kicking your girlfriend’s tail with their Magic Comp scores?”

Krelliam put a hand on Wyex’s shoulder to keep him in his seat. “He’s not worth it, man. He won’t be their problem much longer—Seerla’s either.”

Thirtyx wanted to believe he meant their upcoming graduation, but something about the way Krelliam’s dragonfire glinted off his eyes gave him pause.

Enough pause to distract him from the Selkie swimming obnoxiously close to the boat. Neither he nor Seerla noticed until it bumped against the hull.

“Hey, watch it!” Seerla cried. She grabbed the side wall for support and peered into the water. “I can’t tell who it is. The only Selkie I can consistently recognize in seal form is Nephrie—”

A bump from the other side of the boat cut her off and sent her reeling into Thirtyx’s lap. He was concerned enough about the situation that her proximity didn’t even faze him.

“What’s the matter?” Wyex cackled. “Don’t have enough weight to handle the bumps, you little vra—”

The rest of the slur was cut off by yet another hit that threw Seerla off of Thirtyx as quickly as she’d landed on him. Thirtyx extended a hand to help her up, but the boat was still rocking too much for him to make contact. He grabbed his seat instead as they were hit again, this time with the accompanying crunch of wood against wood. 

Another boat was alongside them. Three Trolls helped Wyex and Krelliam scramble across to safety. Adrenaline spiked through Thirtyx’s veins. Could he foil their attack by making it to the rescue boat too? He crouched, both for balance and stealth, and clambered across the boat. Would Seerla follow? He paused to check her position.

Wyex stomped the boat’s side as he departed, sending the boat flailing again.

Thirtyx slammed onto the bench the Dragonfolk had occupied. While the pain surged through his back and shoulders, a seal flopped into the boat, boosted out of the water by two of its companions.

Thirtyx stared down the solid chunk of aquatic muscle, but it didn’t come for him. Instead, it planted itself on top of Seerla.

“No!” she shouted. “Nephrie, get off! Thirtyx!”

There was now a massive weight imbalance between the side of the boat where Nephrie pinned Seerla against the floorboards and the side where Thirtyx jutted into the air. One well-placed hit would send him flying. Thirtyx saw the triad of Selkies moving in for the finish, but there was no escape. Seerla continued shrieking. Nephrie covered her mouth with a flipper.

Then, Thirtyx was in the air.