An underground opponent Milius could manage—with some beforehand knowledge, quite a bit of guesswork, and time to think—but an invisible opponent was another thing entirely, especially one that could move so swiftly and quietly. He struggled to his feet, wincing as he watched his sword dancing around in front of him. The Dragonknight’s armour was produced by the sword’s magic, which meant that there was a possibility that the armour might fade if he didn't retrieve Palpatunde soon, and then he would really be in trouble; the opponent was quite the heavy-hitter, even with the armour to siphon most of the impact. He couldn't imagine getting hit without it.

He began to think—the only thing he could do at the moment. The sword clasped in his enemy's hands was a marker of his current position, which meant that Milius could track him as long as he held it. This, however, was a completely useless idea. If his opponent held onto his sword, he would have no means of attacking or defending. He would simply have to retrieve it and find another way to track his opponent. But how…?

The sword began to float toward him, and Milius tensed. To his immense surprise, however, his opponent suddenly flung the sword back to him. He was so astonished that he nearly missed it … but then the surprise turned to anger…. His opponent was mocking him.

Scowling, he focused on the sword, trying to will it to repair the armour. The amethyst ignited, the cracks and chinks of the armour resealed themselves, and his helmet reappeared. He had no way to be certain, but he had a faint suspicion that his opponent hadn't yet moved. This gave him time to come up with a new idea…. And something came to him. He would possibly look foolish doing this … but that wasn't important, he told himself firmly. Surviving was.

He took a deep breath and charged toward the spot where his sword had been floating. He stopped just inches away from where it was and started kicking wildly at the arena floor, stirring up a storm of blue dust. If the sand could cover his opponent, as it had done Nash, he would be able to track him….

He waited until the dust settled, expecting to see a vaguely humanoid shape coated in blue … but the arena was as still and empty as it had been before. The only thing in sight was a lone grain of sand floating serenely to the ground a small distance away…. So he had moved after all—

Crack!

Milius took a great blow to the head; an enormous crack split the side of his helmet as he stumbled away, and small shards of his visor actually chipped away. He could only imagine the levels of brain damage that he had suffered so far…. Trying desperately to keep his balance, he started swinging wildly, in the hopes that he would catch some part of his foe.

SMACK!

He was sent spiraling yet again, but he wasn't as lucky this time: something had broken. The invisible man had launched an attack while he was directly in front of Milius, but he had not taken a single hit from the sword, nor did it seem as though he had struggled at all to avoid his swipes … Sword, he thought vaguely, feeling around for the hilt. But his hand wandered aimlessly over the smooth sand…. Palpatunde was gone!

He flicked his head wildly, looking around for where it had fallen. But it hadn't fallen. Milius leapt aside as he turned, horrified, and found his own blade bearing down on him in a great arc—but he was much too slow.

The metal slashed straight through the armour covering his leg. He immediately regretted ever using that sword on anything he had ever turned its point upon: all at once he felt weak and dazed; his body felt much heavier than it had ever felt before; his blood seemed to be boiling, his skin felt as though it were peeling off. It was as though a great void had called out to the particles of his body, and they had unfortunately answered the call, trying eagerly to escape from his being and scatter into nothingness….

He had always heard … always known … that the blade was a terrible thing, but he had never appreciated just how terrible it was until he experienced it himself. The blade had absorbed the very essence of his being…. He could barely move now…. One more hit and he would fade into oblivion, completely and utterly destroyed….

As the sword advanced on him, gleaming brightly as it usually did when it had absorbed energy, Milius was forcefully reminded of his first time entering the Dragoon Cave. He remembered vividly what had happened when he had tried to return Palpatunde to Calder on Minerva’s orders: a powerful surge of electricity had struck him, and the sword had clung to his palm, as though offended that he had dared to try to give it away. And then, when the swords had sensed that Ariana was in danger of being gravely injured, the Jewel Curse had been activated, preventing Milius from continuing his attack. He wondered desperately if anything like that would happen here….

But it didn't. The Elders’ words came back to him with horrible clarity: he could not willingly give the sword away, and the Jewel Curse prevented Knights from harming other Knights. None of those conditions were met here. Nothing was going to save him….

The sword bobbled over to him, coming to rest directly above his Adam’s apple. His condition didn't seem as bad as Ariana’s had; he could still move, but not nearly fast enough to escape. Tears stung his eyes. He was going to die….

And as the sword retracted itself, ready to thrust itself forward, he closed his eyes, hoping at least that it would be quick—

BOOM!

A fifth droplet of water had detached itself from the ceiling, unaware to Milius, and seemingly even his opponent, washing him away just before the blade could connect. He couldn't believe his luck—but he wasn't out of danger yet. He had no strength to break the surface this time, and his visor was unable to keep the water out fully; cold, merciless water flooded in through the missing chinks, ripping the rest of his visor apart…. He whirled around for a few seconds, immobile, feeble, helpless…. Then he crashed into the wall as the water receded, and he fell, spluttering and coughing.

Large cracks were now spreading along the lower half of his armour, and something was dripping gently from his leg: water, or possibly his own blood. He didn't turn to look, but it didn't matter—he had survived. He looked around again and saw a glint of silver at the other end of the arena. Palpatunde had been washed out of his opponent's grasp. But that made no sense…. Dollop and Nash hadn't been overwhelmed by the water, even when it had fallen as suddenly as it had just now, so why was he…? And once again, Milius’s mind raced, analyzing what had happened so far, trying to come up with some way that he could win.

His opponent had entered the ring, yet no bars had been slid up to admit him…. There was also something off about the awkward way that he held the sword, how he had somehow evaded Milius’s strikes despite being within inches of him—admittedly, this wasn't much of a lead, as his strikes were rather wild, and his opponent could apparently move very fast. But it brought his attention to something else that he had not noticed. This new enemy left no footprints. The water bubbles, of course, leveled out the floor once they had fallen, but even before that, there were none … And the strangest of all was how he never spoke.

An excellent strategy, or at least, one that Milius would have used if he were invisible, would be to catch his opponent off guard by making noise in one area, and then sneaking up on them from another. It would have been the perfect strategy, especially seeing as though he was so interested in toying with Milius. So why had he never used it? Did he believe that Milius would see through it? Had he thought that there was no need, or was he possibly just that dense?

And even as he thought, listening hard for any sound, no matter how faint, of his opponent approaching, his eyes caught a single sand grain drifting in the distance, moving in his direction…. Wait … sand grain?

And with a gasp of horror, he finally understood—

He was knocked backward again, rolling right onto his back…. He had to do something, he thought, as his body flared with pain yet again. He wasn't going to survive on land…. If Nash had done it…. It was a desperate idea, but…. Deciding, he pushed himself into a sitting position. His strength seemed to be coming back, but very slowly. Moving as quickly as he could manage, he plunged his hand into the sand and threw up another cloud of dust, then began to dig. It was slow, painful work, but the rigidity of his armour made the digging easier than he would have thought. Twice more he had to stir up the sand, and if another bubble had fallen, it would all have been in vain … but he managed to get through. The water was directly below the surface, staying in place in the same way that the water froze at the threshold of the door above.

Milius took a deep, painful breath, squeezed through the hole, and he plunged into the icy water. Not a moment too soon—another bubble had just fallen, smoothing out the surface. Waving his arms in a feeble attempt to remain afloat, he looked around. He seemed to be floating inside a cavernous, empty chamber, which was lit by a faint blue light that seemed to come from something far below him.

He was right to think that there was magic at work in the room; he could feel something in the water, like a deep, ancient presence. He could feel his strength ebbing away, as though the water were pulling it out of him. He doubted he would have the strength to break through to the surface for another breath…. And as though Fate was determined to make this situation as bad as it could possibly be, his suspicions proved true: his armour suddenly faded.

As he felt himself drifting away, a soft golden light suddenly lit up his vision…. Milius looked around, bemused. A gleaming yellow liquid was seeping from his pocket and into the water, turning it a pale golden colour. It seemed the stone in his pocket had fractured. As the water glimmered around him like a shimmering golden curtain, he felt his wounds closing, as though invisible needles were sewing them up. His head cleared, the pain receded, and new strength rushed through his body, reinvigorating him…. His arms now back to full capacity, he swam upwards and burst through the sand, taking an enormous gasp.

“There you are!” a voice he recognized as King Phontus’s bellowed. He and several of his subjects had made their way to the edge of the stands, looking down upon the arena. “What are you doing down there? Come back up this instance and—!”

But Milius wasn't listening. He took a great breath and plunged below again … He needed time to think.

He looked around for anything that could possibly help him, and as his eyes swept the rest of the chamber, they suddenly came to rest on something he had failed to notice before…. Tentacles as thick as tree trunks, furled into seemingly endless coils … a fin like a large, gleaming spearhead … slick, shiny skin … and the source of the blue light…. A gargantuan squid, identical to the image carved on the castle gates, was resting near the bottom of the chamber, curled around a large, glowing pearl.

Milius could feel it. That pearl was the source of the magic that he was feeling, the force that controlled the water in this room—possibly what was keeping the water at the threshold of the door, too. Two large holes were made into the wall on either side of the squid. The pearl pulsed and water was sucked into the holes, then it stopped. Milius had a strong feeling that that water was somehow connected with the bubbles on the roof of the arena, and as though on cue, water suddenly pressed down upon him, seeping through the sand above him.

If he could manage to get that pearl, he would have a chance, not just at winning, but at escaping…. His chest felt as though it would explode soon. He would have to surface—

And once again he pushed through the sand. The king and his guards were now entering the arena. Phontus looked furious. “STOP IT!” he roared. “I COMMAND YOU TO COME BACK UP HERE AT ON—” Once again, Milius ignored him, and sank beneath the surface.

He swam straight toward the squid, deciding that a direct approach would be easier than wasting time to come up with a plan, as Phontus’s men would likely be swooping down on him soon. He would have to do this without Palpatunde … He didn't much like the look of those tentacles … That fin looked awfully sharp—

Stop it! he chided himself. He barreled through the glimmering water, steeling his nerves. Incredibly, the squid didn't even stir. He could actually do this…. And finally, he closed in, snatching the pearl away. Immediately his whole aspect changed. Just one touch told him: the pearl was nothing like Palpatunde; he didn't have to bond with it to use it. It was simply an oddly-shaped control lever. All he had to do was think, and the entirety of the water in the room would be at his mercy. He could feel all the water in the castle, feel everything inside of it—

He had stayed still a moment too long. The squid awoke, screeching in fury. Its massive tentacles unfurled with alarming speed, thrashing about in the water. Milius narrowly avoided being impaled by its fin as it raised its terrible head. As it drew level with him, Milius focused on the pearl, and the chasm exploded. Water shot up from the abyss like a geyser, tearing up the entire sand arena and filling the room. Milius could now feel Phontus, his guards, and, as he had suspected, a new being, this one slightly larger than a grain of rice—his “invisible” opponent—flailing about in the upsurge.

The squid’s tentacles were flailing, tearing apart the arena and swatting Phontus’s men away. Phontus himself was shrieking in terror, but Milius was entirely calm. The water was bending to his every thought. He was in complete control.

He spotted Palpatunde near him and focused on the pearl; the water responded instantly, zooming the blade over to him. He snatched it away and held it fast, stowing it in its sheath as his armour reappeared. The guards were recovering, the squid was screeching, all advancing menacingly upon Milius. He formed his next command and he was propelled toward the doorway. Once he was at the threshold, the water in the room fell with a deafening crash, bringing everyone else in the room with it into the squid’s chamber and settling serenely in place.

Milius wondered vaguely if he could somehow freeze the water, and at once, the surface frosted over. The pearl seemed to work not just on the water in the arena, but on all the water in the castle. He lowered the currents in the halls to chest level, so that his head was free to bask in the glorious air. He heard loud cracking sounds issuing from the arena and knew that he didn't have much time. Phontus, his men, and the squid would be free soon. The pearl pulsed as he sent his thoughts into the water, and as though the water were merely another limb attached to his body, it responded immediately and fluidly, sending him speeding upward through the corridors, all the while parting the currents so that his head would be left dry. Each time he encountered someone he trapped them in ice, deciding not to take any more chances.

He reached the throne room less than a minute later, where he found Sybil, her friend, and the third naiad (holding a clove of what Milius hoped was the Amphitrice) trying to braid Lumeus’s tail with seaweed. Lumeus looked positively livid. But then his expression turned to total bewilderment when Milius zoomed into the room and pelted the naiads with a torrent of water, freezing them onto the wall.

The massive sea creatures shifted angrily in their tanks, and some even swam out to meet them, snarling and baring fangs and stingers. Milius parted the water in the room as easily as he would have lifted a finger, and the creatures were forced to remain on separate sides of them. The bubble of air around Lumeus’s head burst and his coral plating crumbled to dust. He flexed his wings and gave a roar of triumph, but then turned back to Milius with a quizzical look.

“No time!” he gasped at him. He ran to retrieve the Amphitrice, which he had firmly directed the water to avoid, then scrambled onto Lumeus’s back. They burst through the castle doors moments later and glided down the cobbled path. As the enormous castle gates swam into view, Milius suddenly noticed something—the pearls that flanked their pillars looked the same as the one he held in his hands. If they possessed the same powers as well….

The guards finally noticed them, swiveling around to look at them with confused expressions. They raised their swordfish-spears and crab-pincer-daggers, and shouted at him to stop. But Milius had no intention of doing so. He patted Lumeus’s back, and even though he didn't speak, Lumeus seemed to understand. His plates flared with electricity and a great purple bolt spiraled from his mouth. The gates exploded with a horrible crash, sending debris and fish-men flying every which way. Milius swept the wreckage (which fortunately included shards of the pearls) out of the way with a new wave, and commanded the bubble to open, not wanting to experience the unpleasant mixture of searing heat and freezing cold again—

At that precise moment, a bellow that shook the entire castle issued from just behind the broken doors. Milius looked back and saw Phontus emerging, but something was wrong. He was reverting to his original size, the way Milius had seen him when he had just entered the castle.

Thinking quickly, Milius encased them in a bubble similar to the one around the castle, then allowed the water to wash over them, flowing normally. He concentrated on the pearl again and the water shot the bubble toward the surface. They broke through, once again causing several woodland animals to veer off in alarm, and took to the air. But a huge section of the water suddenly went dark, and Phontus’s gargantuan figure emerged, snarling. It seemed that he too had used the streams to propel himself upward. A dozen twinkling jellyfish seemed to have gotten stuck in his hair when he had passed through the large group of them, so that his hair looked like a twinkling black curtain as it flashed about.

He thrust out an enormous hand, trying to snatch Lumeus out of the sky, but the dragon ducked under his arm and dived straight down to his knee. As he swung past, he let out an enormous arc of lightning. It ran all the way up Phontus’s body, and down into the lake, which began to sizzle. Phontus shook convulsively, then steadied, and for a split second Milius was afraid that it had not worked—but then the king keeled over, splashing up waves that soared up to twenty feet in the air.

Milius glanced down at his motionless figure, cast him a disdainful look, and Lumeus took off, back to the town.