Polymorphs

I

The water changes before anything else does.

The deeper currents run clean and steady, but near the shallows the sea tastes busy—oil, metal, and the faint trace of many moving bodies.

Sound comes as pressure.

Thumps. Splashes. Limbs beating the surface. Nothing moves with the clean rhythm of fleeing prey.

Their shapes flicker above me, kicking without purpose. Some drift motionless. Others thrash and turn, filling the water with overlapping pulses.

The surface trembles with them.

I move closer.

The water warms. Their scents strengthen.

Salt. Blood. Life.

Too many bodies. Too much movement.

I rise.

A sharp whistle cuts through the water.

The surface erupts.

Bodies scatter. Limbs churn. The water fills with sudden panic as the shapes move away.

All but one.

It struggles behind the others, writhing in uneven bursts. Each movement sends a hard pulse through the water.

I turn toward it.

It kicks again.

I follow.

The bottom rises beneath me. Sand lifts as my tail passes over it.

Another kick.

Closer.

My mouth opens.

My tail snaps once.

I strike.

Blood.

Warm. Familiar.

Then something else.

Sharp.

Bitter.

Metallic.

Something hard strikes against my teeth.

A violent hiss bursts beside my head.

The water explodes into bubbles.

They rush across my eyes, filling the water with frantic vibration.

I bite harder.

The hiss grows stronger.

Wrong.

The blood is real.

But the body is wrong.

I shake my head.

The hard thing scrapes against my teeth. Bubbles pour around me until flesh, metal, and movement blur together.

I let go.

I turn for deeper water.

Something jerks me backward.

I drive my tail.

Again.

The pull catches at my jaw.

I twist.

Pain tears through the side of my mouth.

Nothing behind me.

Nothing beside me.

No body.

No teeth.

No movement in the water.

I drive forward.

The thing bites deeper.

I thrash. Twist. Pull.

It gives nothing back.

The pull only grows stronger.

Something vibrates through the water.

A low, steady pulse.

Then another.

And another.

Not from the struggling bodies.

From farther away.

I stop fighting.

The pressure against my jaw remains.

I turn slowly.

Beyond the disturbed sand, dark shapes hang beneath the surface. They do not swim. They do not flee.

They wait.

Another pulse travels through the water.

The pull tightens.

I understand.

They have come for me.

II

The dark shapes begin to move.

Slowly at first.

One drifts to my left. Another sinks beneath me. A third remains motionless, blocking the deeper water.

The pull against my jaw tightens.

I turn toward the nearest shape.

It retreats.

I follow.

The line jerks, dragging my head sideways.

Pain flashes through my mouth.

I twist and drive forward, but the shape slips away. Something long and narrow extends from its body.

A sudden impact strikes my side.

Pain spreads beneath my skin.

I turn.

Another shape approaches.

I snap at it.

It rises beyond my reach.

A second impact.

Then a third.

My muscles tighten.

For an instant, my tail refuses to move.

I sink.

The bottom comes toward me. Sand rises in a pale cloud as I strike it.

Above, the shapes gather.

A low vibration passes between them.

I know that sound.

I have heard it before.

I push against the sand.

My tail moves.

Slowly.

Then again.

The shapes separate.

One descends toward my head. A long object extends from it, ending in a sharp point.

I remain still.

It comes closer.

Closer.

I strike.

My teeth close around the object.

Metal bends.

The shape jerks backward.

I pull.

Something tears free.

The water fills with bubbles and a sudden frantic beating.

The shape twists away, leaving part of the object in my mouth.

I spit it out.

The others move at once.

A sharp blow strikes my back.

Another catches my side.

The pressure in my jaw increases.

They are pulling me away from the bottom.

I resist.

My tail beats against the sand, throwing clouds into the water.

The pull grows stronger.

I rise.

Not because I want to.

Because they are dragging me.

Light spreads above.

The surface trembles.

Beyond it, I hear heavier sounds. Engines. Metal striking metal. Voices carried through the water as dull, broken vibrations.

I twist once more.

The line holds.

I stop.

For a moment, I let them pull.

The dark shapes follow beneath me.

They think I am weakening.

The surface approaches.

I feel the air beyond it.

The warmth.

The open space.

I gather myself.

Then I drive upward.

The line snaps tight.

Something above me gives way with a violent crack.

I break through the surface.

Air rushes around me.

Sunlight burns across my eyes.

A long white vessel tilts sharply to one side. Figures stumble across its deck. One falls against the railing.

The line stretches from my mouth to a metal frame.

The frame bends.

A figure screams.

I pull harder.

Parts tear free.

The frame flies toward me, dragging a line with it.

One of the figures tumbles overboard.

It strikes the water beneath me.

I hear its frantic movements.

I could follow.

Instead, I rise higher.

The vessel drops away.

The water falls beneath me in shining sheets.

For a moment, everything is silent.

Then the line breaks.

I am free.

Below, the figures gather along the edge of the vessel.

They turn toward me.

Their movements become frantic.

I spread myself against the air.

And keep climbing.

III

The vessel shrinks beneath me.

The figures scatter across its deck. Some rush toward the metal frame. Others remain motionless, their heads tilted upward.

I climb higher.

The wind presses against my body. Water streams from me, breaking into droplets that scatter behind me.

Below, the vessel turns sharply.

Its engines roar.

It moves toward the distant shore.

I follow.

The water stretches beneath me, dark and endless. Far ahead, a strip of land rises from the horizon.

I beat my wings.

The distance closes.

Below, the vessel cuts through the waves, leaving a long white trail. Its speed increases.

A sharp crack reaches me.

Something whistles past.

Another crack.

I turn.

A small object tears through the air beside me.

They are still trying.

I climb beyond their reach.

The vessel grows smaller.

Soon, the water gives way to sand, then rocks, then a stretch of dense vegetation.

I descend.

The wind changes as the ground approaches.

I draw my wings closer.

My tail separates.

The two halves stretch downward, bending at newly formed joints.

My claws extend.

I strike the earth.

Soil breaks beneath my weight.

I fold my wings.

Behind me, the ocean glitters beneath the sun.

The vessel approaches the shore.

I watch it.

The figures move frantically across its deck.

One raises a long object toward me.

I open my mouth.

A sharp screech tears from my throat.

The sound rolls across the land and out over the water.

The figures freeze.

I screech again.

Far beyond the vessel, the ocean stirs.

A dark shape breaks the surface.

Then another.

Then three more.

Water erupts as they rise.

Wings spread against the sunlight.

Long tails trail beneath them.

They climb higher.

More emerge.

Ten.

Twenty.

Too many to count.

The sky fills with beating wings.

As they approach the shore, their tails separate, stretching into clawed legs.

Their cries answer mine.

Below them, the vessel turns.

Its engines roar.

It heads back toward open water.

I watch it flee.

Then I raise my head and screech once more.

The others turn toward me.

And descend.

They land around me.

Claws tear into the earth. Wings fold. Their cries fade until only the distant roar of the vessel's engines remains.

I turn toward the shore.

Beyond the sand, the land stretches toward the horizon.

The others turn with me.

I spread my wings.

Behind me, hundreds of wings unfold.

I screech.

We rise.