The Skybound Sea Read Online Free

thunder. The Omens sang and the frogmen gurgled and the blood continued to fall from the sky. Hanth could but cry out and hope to be heard.
    “Kasla!”
    The roof of the temple cracked behind him. A howl, centuries old and leagues deep, rang out from a hollow heart. Hanth threw himself into the crowd.
    “Kasla!”
    At every turn was he met with flesh and fear: the people whom had to be shoved past, the frogmen that had to be knocked over. The former clung to him and begged him for help, accused him for bringing this down upon them. The latter would take them, webbed hands sliding into mouths, groping throats, hauling them into the dark, their screams drowning.
    And he ignored them all.
    “Kasla!”
    She would never hear him. He clung to her name to block out the terror. He clung to her name to remind himself of who had to walk away from this when the city was dead and its people sang songs in the deep.
    He spied a gap in the crowd, an exposed mouth of an alley. He seized the opportunity, slipping through the chaos and into the darkness without knowing where he was going. Stopping was not an option. If he stopped, he would think and he would know the odds of finding Kasla alive.
    But he had to think. Not long, not hard, just enough to consider.
    Sound was smothered in the gloom, but the terror was as thick as the red on the streets. He could but hear his own breath and those screams so desperate as to reach the dark.
    “Kasla?” he called out.
    “Here …” a voice answered.
    Hers? A woman’s, certainly … wasn’t it? He followed it, regardless. He could not afford to think what else it might be.
    “Come on, then,” the voice spoke again. A woman’s, certainly. “It’s safe out here. I promise.” He strained to hear it, so soft and weak. “Yes, I know it can be scary. But I’ll take care of you, all right?”
    “Kasla?”
    “Yes,” she whispered back. “Yes, I’m sure. Yes, I’m
really
sure. Remember the promise I made you when your father left?”
    What was she talking about?
    “I promised you I’d never let anything hurt you like that again. I haven’t, have I?”
    He rounded the corner and saw the sea lapping at the streets. The wall here had decayed and crumbled away, the alley ending where the ocean began. He saw the woman who was not Kasla, kneeling with her hands extended, her face painted with blood, her tears shining.
    Lightning flashed soundlessly overhead.
    And he saw the creature looming over her.
    It rose on a pillar of coiled gray flesh, a macabre flower that blossomed into an emaciated torso, withered breasts dangling from visible ribs. A spindly neck gave way to a bloated head and black, void-like eyes. A fleshystalk dangled from its brow, the tip of it pulsating with a blue light that would have been pleasant had it not illuminated so clearly the woman.
    “Thisisthewaytherightwaytheonlyway …”
    The whispers rose from a pair of womanly lips, twitching delicately within a pair of skeletal, fishlike jaws. They were meant for the woman. It was Hanth’s curse that he could hear them, too.
    “Somu​chsu​fferi​ngso​muchp​ain​and​who​com​est​ohe​lpy​ouw​how​how​ho …”
    “So much pain,” the woman sobbed. “Why would Zamanthras let him be born into such a world?”
    “Noo​new​ill​tel​lyo​uno​one​ans​wer​sno​god​sli​ste​nno​one​car​esn​oon​eev​erc​are​s …”
    “I hear a voice. I hear Her.”
    “No,” Hanth whispered, taking a tentative step forward.
    “Mot​her​Dee​pkn​ows​you​rpa​inf​eel​syo​urp​ain​kno​wsy​our​pro​mis​e …”
    “I promised …” the woman said to the darkness.
    “Kee​phi​msa​fen​eve​rle​thi​mfe​elp​ain​eve​ryt​hin​gis​saf​edo​wnb​elo​wen​dle​ssb​lue​awo​rld​ofe​ndl​ess​blu​efo​ryo​uan​dyo​urc​hil​d …”
    “Child,” he said.
    He caught sight of the boy, crawling out from