Chapter 134
Dinner is a surprisingly lively affair, considering the uncomfortably violent circumstances that brought us here. Plates of kalia pork, fried rice, and fruit salad are passed around, and the table hums with quiet chatter and the occasional burst of laughter.
But I can’t help myself—I’m too curious. As we eat, I lean toward Tyler, my fork idly poking at a cube of pineapple.
“So,” I say, keeping my voice low, “who’s who here? Introduce me.”
Tyler grins, clearly relishing the opportunity to fill me in. He gestures toward a muscular man with a shaved head and tattoos trailing down his arms. “You know my uncle, Tai. He’s Head of Subaquatic Exploration. Handles all the dives and basically runs the Flounder. He scouts ares of interest and brings back the data.”
Tai’s deep laugh carries across the table as he jokes with Andreas, a tall, wiry man with sharp cheekbones and a head of messy silver hair. “Andreas Leodas,” Tyler continues, nodding toward him. “Head of Anthropology. Guy knows everything there is to know about ancient civilizations and cultures. He’s the brain behind half the theories we’re working on.”
Andreas leans back in his chair, adjusting his glasses, and speaks animatedly to Tai about a recent discovery, his Greek accent coloring his words. Next to Andreas sit two younger humans, both in their mid-twenties. One is a petite woman with auburn curls and freckles splashed across her face, and the other is a stocky man with shaggy brown hair.
“And those are Andreas’s assistants,” Tyler explains. “Rory and Caleb. Rory’s a whiz with artifacts, and Caleb’s the tech genius—he’s the one who rigs all the equipment for Andreas’s dives.”
I nod, glancing at another duo seated closer to Tai. A tall, lean guy with dark skin and a shaved head is laughing at something Tai said, while a shorter, broad-shouldered man with sandy blond hair and a sunburn rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Tai’s assistants,” Tyler says. “That’s Malu and Tom. Malu’s a hell of a diver, and Tom’s our navigation guy. Keeps us from getting hopelessly lost in the middle of the ocean. I’m a part-timer, helping Uncle Tai while I’m in school.”
My gaze moves to Cora, who sits at the head of the table, perfectly composed despite the casual setting. She looks radiant, her ash-blonde hair gleaming under the deck lights as she listens attentively to Khale.
“And, of course, you already know the boss,” Tyler says, his tone wry. “Cora’s the Director in Chief, the one who keeps this operation running. And then there’s her team.”
He nods toward Khale, seated rigidly at Cora’s right. His dark hair gleams blue in the light, and his piercing green eyes seem to cut through anyone they land on. Khale doesn’t so much eat as pick at his plate, as if dinner is a formality he has to endure.
“That’s Khale,” Tyler says. “Cora’s right-hand man. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s a little… intense.”
“Just a bit,” I mutter, earning a chuckle from Tyler.
“And then there are the other two,” Tyler continues, lowering his voice. “Silo and Arista. You won’t see them tonight—they’re still recovering from last night’s fiasco.”
I stiffen slightly, the memory of lightning, fire, and chaos flashing in my mind. “Right,” I say. “Them.”
“Don’t worry,” Tyler adds quickly. “They’ll be fine. Euclideans heal fast.”
I glance around the table, noticing that several other figures sit quietly on the edges of the group, their otherworldly grace setting them apart. “Are they all Euclideans?” I ask.
Tyler nods. “Yeah. Khale, Silo, Arista, and a few others who rotate in and out to help with operations. They’ve been with Cora for years.”
Wake, who’s been listening silently, finally speaks. “Three teams, then. Exploration, Anthropology… but what exactly is Cora’s team’s role?”
Tyler hesitates, glancing around as if to make sure no one’s paying attention to our conversation. “Cora’s the intermediary between us and the Lost Clans,” he says carefully. “Her team runs security, but the Euclideans see their involvement here as an investment.”
Wake’s brow furrows. “An investment in what?”
Tyler leans in, his voice dropping even lower. “The Ring of Fire has been plagued with attacks for the last six months.”
I feel a chill creep up my spine. “Attacks from what?”
Tyler glances at me, his expression grim. “Monsters,” he whispers. “Leviathan’s kin. They’ve been ambushing fishing boats, trawlers, you name it. Completely random, all over the region. We’ve been patrolling the island chain, trying to intercept every confrontation we can, but they’re happening so often, it’s hard to keep up.”
Wake’s jaw tightens. “And your primary responsibilities?”
“Tracking Leviathan,” Tyler says simply.
I frown. “I thought you already knew where he was trapped. Isn’t he supposed to be in a magic coma? What is there to track?”
Tyler’s eyes dart around again before he leans even closer. “I have a theory,” he says, his voice barely audible. “One that no one wants to hear yet.”
“What theory?” I press, my curiosity flaring despite the tension in his voice.
He takes a deep breath, his gaze locking onto mine. “Leviathan might be trapped,” he says slowly, leaning back in his seat. “But I’m pretty sure he ain’t sleeping anymore. In fact, I’m willing to bet he’s been awake for a lot longer than we think.”
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