Eagre erupted from the roaring surf like a cannonball, blasting a fifty-foot curtain of white foam into the tropical sky.
He didn’t just walk up the sand this time-he surged forward on a wave of pure, panic-fueled adrenaline, every muscle in his massive scaly torso flexing as he heaved the final one-ton granite boulder over his head.
With a deafening, earth-shattering BOOM that sent a shockwave ripple through the sand dunes and rattled the palm trees for a hundred yards around, Eagre slammed the massive basalt monolith directly into place alongside the first two.
“THREE!” Eagre bellowed, his voice raw, echoing, and laced with frantic Siren static.
He didn’t pause to wipe the sea foam from his face.
He didn’t check his dark plastic aviator sunglasses, which were hanging precariously off one ear-fin.
He lunged forward, grabbing Saira by the lapels of her damp, oversized blazer with two claw-tipped hands, lifting her feet two inches off the hot sand.
His glowing emerald eyes were wide-open behind his crooked lenses, his slit pupils trembling with genuine, terrifying urgency.
“Listen to me, you hairless, delusional land-pest!” Eagre rasped, his gills pumping wild, erratic plumes of violet-tinted steam directly into her face.
“You must pack your ridiculous duffel bag!
You must take your loaded dice, your card decks, and your armour-plated bottom-feeder, and you must move inward!
NOW!” Saira didn’t look terrified.
In fact, as she dangled from his massive webbed grip, her flower crown slightly crooked, her eyes sparkled behind her black aviators with profound, starry-eyed realization.
She gasped, clasping her hands loosely over his wrists.
“Oh, Eager,” Saira whispered, her voice trembling with intense, high society theatrical emotion.
“You…you brought the third rock.
And now you’re holding me.
You’re holding me like a dramatic hero in a seaside romance novel.” “WHAT?!
NO!” Eagre shrieked, his voice cracking violently as he almost dropped her into the sand.
“Are you deaf?!
Did the salt water penetrated your skull?!
I am not holding you romantically!
I am telling you that you are in mortal, imminent peril!” “He’s denial-spiraling, Crabby,” Saira called over her shoulder, completely unbothered as Eagre set her back down on her feet.
She dusted off the lapels of her blazer, adjusting her hibiscus flower behind her ear with a delicate, graceful flick of her wrist.
“Look at him.
He worked so hard to build our foundation, and now the weight of his overwhelming protective instincts is causing a emotional bottleneck.” A few feet away at the flat-stone table, Crabby slowly lowered his miniature aviator sunglasses.
He took a long thoughtful drag from his unlit palm-frond cigar, tapped an imaginary ash onto the stone, and gave Eagre a single, slow, unblinking nod of respect.
The decapod thinks I’m marking my territory, Eagre realized with a wave of cold, existential nausea.
“THERE IS A DEEP-TRENCH SIREN IN THE WATER!” Eagre screamed at the top of his lungs, throwing both hands into the air and stomping his tail so hard the sand dune groaned.
“Her name is Vespera!
She has glowing red eyes, black hair, a gray tail, and claws dripping with paralyzing reef-venom!
She watched us from the reef!
She thinks you are a disgrace to marine biology, and she wants to drag you two hundred fathoms down to rip the air from your lungs!” Saira listened intently, tilting her head with a thoughtful, deeply sympathetic smile.
“A rival,” Saira breathed softly, placing a hand over her heart.
“A jealous, brooding sea-maiden from your past who cannot handle the fact that you’ve given your heart-and your fifty-pound pink pearl-to a woman of refined, continental taste.” Eagre froze.
His jaw dropped so low a grain of sand landed on his tongue.
“She is not my ‘brooding sea-maiden’!” Eagre howled, grabbing his head with both hands in sheer, desperate frustration.
“She is an aquatic assassin!
She doesn’t want a romantic rivalry!
She wants to EAT YOUR LIVER!” “Oh, fish-boy, you don’t have to put on this fierce, protective display just to impress me,” Saira said soothingly, stepping forward and reaching up to gently pat his massive, scaly shoulder.
“It is completely natural for a sea-god of your stature to feel fiercely possessive over his bride when a lesser siren tries to crash the engagement party.
But you don’t need to panic!
We have a three-tiered shrine.
We have granite foundation blocks.
And most importantly…” She turned, pointing with grand, aristocratic flair toward the top of the dune.
“…we have the Holy Cubes and Cards of Probability!
If this ‘Espera’ shows her face on our beach, Crabby and I will simply deal her into a hand of high-stakes poker and strip her of her aquatic assets before sunset!” Crabby clicked his pincers twice in agreement, expertly fanning his loaded card deck with a crisp thrrrt sound.
Eagre stared at Saira.
Then he stared at Crabby.
He looked out toward the dark, shadowed reef line, where he could faintly see two glowing crimson dots hovering just beneath the white foam of the waves, watching the beach with murderous, venomous intent.
Vespera was coming.
And the human was planning to offer her a game of Texas Hold’em.
Eagre let out a long, shuddering, soundless groan, his shoulder slumping in complete, utter defeat as he reached up and adjusted his dark aviators over his eyes.
“I am going to have to fight her,” Eagre whispered mournfully to himself, his gills drooping in despair.
“I am going to have to duel a trench-assassin to the death…just to protect a woman in a grass skirt who thinks we’re engaged.” “That’s the spirit, my dear sardine!” Saira cheered, slapping his back with a bright, radiant laugh.
“Now, go warm up your battle vocals!
The High Priestess demands a victory anthem!” Without a second glance at Eagre’s utter crisis, Saira let out a joyful laugh and twirled back toward the dune.
She picked up right where she left off, her hips swaying smoothly to an unheard rhythm as she continued dancing the completely made-up hula dance, totally unbothered by the impending duel, the trench-assassin, or the sheer chaos unfolding around them.