Voruun stared at the seawater he'd hauled up under his control, then glanced at the bubble still drifting closer.
And then he froze.
He'd gotten the water into the air.
Now what?
His tentacles flicked around the suspended water mass a few times, but he couldn't organize anything into a real attack. Meanwhile, the little bubble didn't slow. It had already crossed more than half the distance between them.
Panic thickened in Voruun's eyes. He opened his mouth and blasted a flood of black ink forward. The viscous cloud hit the water and spread fast, staining everything in front of him into a dense black curtain that you couldn't see through.
Everyone watched that ink cloud with open curiosity.
The small bubble slipped into the darkness without a sound. It didn't pop. It didn't change course. It passed through the heavy ink, touched Voruun's body—
and sank into him, silent as a needle.
The bubble looked harmless.
But what it carried inside had never been ordinary air.
