9
“Run!” Malik screams, but there’s nowhere to flee. We can’t climb the sides of the rocky walls of the valley, not with the water pouring down. There are some trees still above the tide, but who knows how long they will remain above water. The statue is by far the tallest thing down around—and there’s a harpy in fight mode perched on top of it.
Malik glances at Alaric and me. “Best of luck,” he says, then shifts into a lion and leaps onto the statue. But his claws can’t find much purchase on the smooth stone, and he slips backwards a few feet for every one that he gains.
“Go!” Alaric says, the roar of the water now filling our ears, the spray in my face. The ocean is filling the canyon, and he might have saved me from the lagoon just to see me drown in saltwater. I run for a tree, spla
