Mini Brain Dumps

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Trigger Warning: This novel contains references to sexual assault and mental health disorders. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 36:

Quentin swam along the outskirts of Seidonis, the moon casting a cold, silver glow across the water. He should have headed back to his room—he knew that—but he didn’t want to. The emptiness around him seemed endless, just like the quiet storm in his chest.

Lyra was a siren. What did that mean for them, for their friendship? He didn’t know. But it didn’t matter right now. Cate hated him. He deserved it. Hell, he hated himself too.
His thoughts spiraled until his gaze caught something—a stray fishing line tangled among the coral. It was a small, insignificant thing, but he swam closer anyway, his fingers working quickly to unravel it from the reef’s grasp. Finally, when it came loose, he wrapped it around his wrist, a makeshift bracelet. At least he could do something useful.

Just as he was about to swim back to Seidonis, a noise cut through the water. Faint, distant, but unmistakable—the sharp sound of metal grinding against metal. His heart skipped a beat.

Clank!

His muscles tensed. The noise came again, sharper this time, a screech like iron teeth scraping against stone. It couldn’t be—his mind flashed to Cate.
She’s probably just practicing, he reasoned, trying to calm the growing panic in his chest.

He could almost picture her, graceful as ever, weaving and hacking through the water, lost in her training. It had to be that, right? She was fine.

But even as he thought it, his heart thudded louder, a rhythmic pounding that drowned out everything else.

He turned toward the source of the sound. The water felt still, unnaturally so, the ripples from his own movements the only sign of life. Still, something felt wrong. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him.

Just keep going, he told himself. Head back. There’s no reason to—

Clank.

The sharp sound sliced through his thoughts like a knife. His body jolted. This wasn’t just his mind playing tricks. Something was happening.

Cate.

It had to be Cate. The sound—metal on metal. It couldn’t be anyone else. His instincts flared.

Without a second thought, he bolted forward, his body moving on pure adrenaline. His pulse raced, and all he could think of was reaching her before it was too late.

He pushed himself through the water, each stroke faster than the last. The metallic clangs got louder. His muscles burned, but he couldn’t stop. He had to reach her.
Please be fine. Please don’t let it be her.

Quentin knew deep down that he was lying to himself. His gut was screaming at him now—every instinct telling him something was terribly wrong.

There, ahead of him, the shape of Cate came into view.

His stomach dropped.

She was surrounded by the three sirens they had seen in the cave, their lithe forms circling her like sharks. Cate was fighting back, fiercely, but he could see the fear in her eyes — a fear Quentin had never seen before.

Lyra was there, desperately pleading with the others.

“Please,” she begged, “Let her go. She’s not—”

“We need her,” Charlie cut in. “Lysandra needs her.”

“You can have mine… all of it. Please don’t hurt her. She isn’t a part of this.”

Charlie let out a maniac laugh. “Oh darling, she has everything to do with this…”

Cate swung her trident in a wide arch, missing Charlie by mere inches, but she twisted the shaft in her hands, jabbing the handle into Charlie’s face. She stumbled back, clutching her bleeding nose.

Quentin couldn’t help but smile.

Charlie’s eyes flashed with rage, her hands trembling as she wiped the blood from her nose. A low growl escaped her throat.

“You’re lucky we need you alive, little girl.”

Cate’s grip on the trident tightened, her knuckles white.

“Let her go!” Quentin shouted, as he hurled himself into Nerida’s side.

She let out a strangled squeak as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as far away from Cate as he could.

Nerida struggled against him. She was strong—too strong for him to hold on for long, but Quentin wasn’t thinking about that. All he could focus on was Cate, still fighting, still struggling against the other two. He had to incapacitate Nerida, and fast.

“Oh, looks like your boy toy has come to the rescue…” Charlie cackled as she lunged at Cate again.

Cate easily dodged the attack, swinging her trident squarely at Charlie’s exposed back. But instead of hitting the meaty flesh, Cate’s trident harmlessly bounced off of Cora’s as she intercepted the strike.

Quentin’s pulse thundered in his ears as Nerida fought against him, her muscles coiled, sharp tail slicing through the water. His hold was faltering—he was too weak, too slow. He caught a glint off his wrist and suddenly he knew what to do.

Nerida twisted again, trying to break free. He barely managed to keep her from darting away, the muscles in his arms throbbing. The siren hissed at him.

With his free hand, he uncoiled the fishing line from his wrist, the sharp sting of the saltwater barely registering. He wrapped the line around his hands. He prayed to the gods to forgive him for what he was about to do as he wrapped the line around her throat and pulled as hard as he could.

The fishing line held, its fibers biting into her neck with a pressure that left her gasping. She writhed, her movements growing more frantic as she tried to tear the line away, but the tighter she struggled, the more it constricted.

Quentin didn’t let go. His fingers were numb from the line cutting off his circulation cold, but he gripped the line with everything he had, pulling it with his entire body weight to hold her down. Her thrashing slowed as the line choked off her breath, her violent movements growing weaker with every passing second.

Nerida’s panicked gurgles filled the water, but Quentin could see the terror in her eyes, the realization that she was losing control. Her movements became more sluggish, her once-vibrant tail no longer snapping with the same fury.

Just as she seemed about to lose consciousness, Quentin jerked the line once more, forcing her to the floor of the ocean, pinning her with the full weight of his body. Her struggles faded completely as the oxygen drained from her, and with a final shudder, she collapsed against the ocean floor, her tail limp, her breath shallow.

The water felt too still now, unnaturally silent, despite the ongoing chaos. His pulse thundered in his ears, and every muscle in his body screamed for rest. But there was no time. Cate needed him. He couldn’t stop now.

Charlie lunged at Cate again, her eyes wild with rage, but Cate spun in a graceful circle, coming face to face with the oncoming threat. She wasn’t just a fighter—she was a survivor. Quentin saw it now more clearly than ever.

Still, even with her strength, the odds were stacked against her. Lyra, unable to do more than plead with the others, was helpless in the face of the sirens’ attack. Quentin had to act—fast.

He swam toward Charlie, his mind working on instinct. With a quick, desperate movement, he slammed his shoulder into Charlie’s side, knocking her off course. She shrieked in fury, her sharp claws flaring out, but he was already swimming away, pulling her attention away from Cate.

Cora, momentarily distracted by Quentin’s attack on Charlie, left her side vulnerable.

Cate darted forward, smashing it into the side of Cora’s head. She fell hard, hitting the sand of the ocean floor. Cate didn’t hesitate, driving her trident into the sand, pinning Cora’s arm with it. Cora let out a blood-curdling scream as the weapon pierced her flesh.

She struggled in her attempt to free herself, only managing to have the trident bite further into her.

Two down, one to go.

Quentin felt a grin spread across his face.

But then, a sharp, cold hand seized Quentin by the throat, twisting so that he was between Charlie and Cate.

Cate stopped dead in her tracks.

Charlie’s grip was iron, her sharp nails digging into his skin. He gasped for air, but the pressure was relentless. His hands clawed at her wrist, but she only tightened her hold, laughing. He couldn’t help but remember the last time those same nails had cut through his skin. The fever, chills, the hospital room. She had him where she wanted him, and she knew it.

Charlie leaned forward. “Just another thing I get to break,” she whispered in his ear, running her other hand through his hair. She grabbed a fistful and twisted his head to the side painfully.

Charlie straightened, her lips curling as she turned her eyes to Cate.

“As much fun as this has been, I’ve grown rather bored. So, let’s end this. Either you come with us, or…” She tapped her nails against Quentin’s throat. “…he dies.”

“Don’t do it—” Charlie dug her nails into his skin, nearly breaking the thin skin of Quentin’s neck.

Cate flinched.

Quentin could see the silent argument she was having with herself as her eyes flickered between Quentin and Charlie. After a moment, her shoulders sagged.
“I’ll come with you,” she said.

Charlie’s grin was wicked, triumph flashing in her eyes. “Good girl,” she purred, malice dripping from her every word. “Now, remove your trident from my sister’s arm please.”
Cate did as she was told, twisting the trident as she pulled it out.
Cora hissed at her, cradling her arm.

“Cora, please be a doll,” she flicked her head to Cate.

Cora grinned as she approached Cate. “Payback’s a bitch,” she said as she punched Cate square in the jaw with her good arm, sending Cate sprawling backward. Cate didn’t cry out. She didn’t even move as Coral brought out a glowing pair of coral handcuffs and placed them on Cate’s wrists.

Nerida finally began to stir, holding her head as she pushed herself up. She looked around groggily, taking in Cate in handcuffs, and Quentin at the mercy of Charlie’s nails. “Oh, we won… cool,” she mumbled, coming to float beside Cora.

The pair began to pull Cate away. She offered no resistance. Lyra cast her gaze between Quentin and the sirens.

“Lyra…” Quentin tried to choke out but she shook her head.

“I have nowhere else to go,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Quentin’s eyes widened. “Lyra, no!”

But she was already swimming toward the sirens. She glanced back once more, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, something cracked between them.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, before turning her back on him.

Quentin tightened. He understood it – the council had failed her in every way imaginable, but they had been friends. Or at least he had thought they had been. But here she was, swimming away, leaving him behind.

Charlie’s laughter broke through his spiraling thoughts. She had loosened her grip on his throat, but it didn’t matter. Her nails still hovered dangerously close to his skin, a constant reminder of how easily she could end this.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against Quentin’s ear as she whispered with a sickening sweetness, “You know, I’ve really enjoyed our little game. But it’s time to say goodbye.”
“Oops,” she purred suddenly, and before Quentin could react, he felt the sharp sting of something cold and metallic slice through his skin. It was quick, barely a blink, but the pain erupted immediately. He gasped, his hand shooting up to his neck as a fresh wave of blood began to trickle down, warm and spreading.

She let go of him then, a satisfied smirk playing across her face as she observed her work. “You didn’t think we’d just let you go, did you?” she continued, her voice low and venomous. “No, I’m not one to forgive easily if you can believe it.”

Quentin’s breath came in ragged gasps, the sharp sting from the gash in his neck making his vision blur.

Charlie’s voice was a soft, poisonous lullaby as she spoke again, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “You really thought you could stop us, didn’t you?” she whispered, her voice low and syrupy sweet. She knelt down next to Quentin, her cold fingers brushing against his skin.

“Well, I’m afraid you won’t be alive to see how this all plays out.”

A twisted smile tugged at her lips. “But don’t worry, Quentin,” Charlie added, her voice turning playful again. “You won’t be alone for long. They’ll catch up to you soon enough.”
With a final, venomous smile, she swam away, leaving him to bleed in the cold, oppressive depths of the ocean.

___

He couldn’t die here.

Without a second thought he began to swim as fast as he could. He had to get back to Seidonis before the poison killed him. They had saved him before. They could do it again.

His mind whirled. If Charlie had used the same poison as before, maybe he stood a chance. Maybe he could make it back before it killed him. He had been able to make it back to the Mermaid Grotto before he had collapsed last time. Though he had had a healing potion then – now, he had nothing but sheer will.
I have to make it.

He pushed himself forward, struggling to swim against the growing weight of his body. The further he swam, the worse it got.

His body felt like lead, and his breathing was starting to come in short, ragged gasps. The poison was making its way through him, devouring his strength. The cold, metallic taste of it coated his mouth. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep going.

But somehow, the current kept pulling him forward, dragging him along, as though the world was determined to see him to Seidonis. His lungs burned with the effort, but he refused to stop. He couldn’t stop. Not when there was a chance, even a small one, that he might live.

The gates appeared on the horizon—faint at first, barely visible through the fog and his failing vision. They seemed impossibly far away…

He didn’t know how much longer he could last, but if there was even the faintest chance of surviving, he had to try.

The poison gnawed at him, sending sharp jolts of pain through his body, but he fought it. The world around him became a blur of water and darkness, his movements feeling sluggish, each one requiring more effort than the last.

I can do anything for a minute. I can do anything for a minute.

The words repeated themselves like a mantra in his head as he pushed himself further.

Finally, he reached the gates, his body crumpling against the coral rocks. He weakly reached out a hand as the guards approached.

“Poison,” he choked out as their faces blurred together, and the world began to fade from view.

One final thought crossed his mind as the darkness claimed him: How the hell did I make it in time?

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