And then there was a tremendous wave of force that blew through the heavy liquid around me, sending me tumbling, and above I saw a silvery ripple as the surface boiled into a thrash of bubbles.

Something vast and dark began to descend. Curiously, it brought light with it—the headlights of cars, still powered from their batteries, trapped within its vast, sticky body.

Golems are fearfully strong things, and virtually impossible to defeat, but they have a critical weakness.

They really can’t swim.

The golem’s limbs flailed the water in useless sweeps. The vast quantity of metal and stone that created and sustained it, that made it so invincible, was nothing but an anchor in the water, and I floated, watching as it fell past me and was pulled down, down, into the depths below me. The car headlights continued to glow, lighting up its struggles as it fell.

I collected myself and began to push for the surface. The icy water was sapping my strength, and lack of oxygen would begin to confuse me soon, and force me to breathe even though there was nothing safe to draw in. The golem was inconvenienced, possibly fatally; if it couldn’t get out of the water before the seed at its core was corrupted by the salt water, it would dissolve into a formless mass of junk scattered across the ocean floor for future archaeologists to puzzle over.

But we were close to the shore, and the golem might be able to make its way back up, following the ocean floor and climbing the rocks, before the corrosive action of the salt water reached its heart.

A white comet of force streaked through the water, blowing me aside again in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs, and I watched it descend in lazy spirals into the dark, heading for the faint glow of the golem’s illumination. I had no idea what it was. I no longer even cared.

My lungs began aching and spasming, hungering for air. I couldn’t linger, even if I wished to try. I kicked for the surface, driving hard into the black, but without the turbulence that had briefly turned the upper layers of the water silvery with trapped air, I could see little to guide me. At last I spotted the faint moonlight drifting through the waves, and arrowed for the surface with the last energy of desperation.

I thought I had surfaced, and opened my mouth.

The gasp I took in was equal parts air and water, and I sputtered, choked, coughed, and tried again, knowing that if I failed again, I wouldn’t have the strength to stay conscious.

And that would mean death.

Warm, sweet air flooded into my lungs. I floated on the surface, coughing and breathing in uneven gasps. Around me, the water heaved, dark and cold, and there was no sign of the golem. It was gone, as if it had never existed at all. Not even the bubbles remained.

And then, from deep below me, I saw a bright white light that flared out like an explosion—but there was no force to it, only light that lingered, expanded, and faded down to a single hot pinpoint.

It coalesced to a single, bright dot.

A cometary flare, racing upward toward me.

I began swimming hard, all too aware that it was hopeless even as I began the effort; the water would have grounded out my Earth abilities, even if I had still possessed the energy to ready a defense. My speed was merely that of a tired, abused human; I had no chance against anything that might be turned against me, particularly by a Weather Warden, with dominion over the water itself.

The water turned a brilliant aqua blue around me, then a fierce white, as the speeding form came closer. It broke the surface ten feet from me, and the light flared, then faded to a dull glow, then darkness.

Rashid lay floating on the surface of the water, eyes full of moonlight. His skin looked pallid beneath its indigo luster, and there were slashes and cuts on his body that had not healed.

I swam to him, feeling the water and the cold dragging at me like hands. My legs felt rubbery and strength-less, and I was losing all feeling in my arms and hands, which struck the water clumsily, like paddles.

“The creature’s dead,” Rashid said, and opened his left hand. In it was a glowing metal ball. It had burned his palm in a red circle. “The seed. Must be crushed. Can’t be done by a Djinn.”

I took it from him, and he gasped in a rushing breath that told me more than his expression what kind of pain holding on to that seed had caused him. His wounds began to slowly knit themselves closed.

The seed felt warm in my hand, and I felt it vibrating, building up its power again. It would only be vulnerable for a precious short time.

I closed my fist around it, and squeezed.

It shattered like glass, spreading something warm and slick, like oil, over my palm. When I opened my fingers again, there was only a faint shimmer of liquid, and a single scrap of oil-soaked paper with a few faint markings.

I took hold of it with two fingers and dipped it into the water. It dissolved almost instantly into foam.

Gone.

I didn’t see the destruction of the golem, but that had likely been less than dramatic; the coherence of the thing would have simply . . . stopped, scattering component pieces as gravity willed. It was possible that the central core of the thing remained, stuck and inert, with all the doomed, illuminated vehicles and dead humans trapped inside it. I shuddered a little, thinking of what it meant to have that for a grave, and dipped my whole hand in the water, scrubbing at the oily remains. My teeth were chattering.

“One thing I will say for you,” Rashid said, distantly. “You are not the most boring human I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not human.”

“You grow closer to it every moment,” he said, and with a sigh, righted himself in the water. Water cascaded from his skin and hair in silvery threads, emphasizing the flawless shape of his chest, the lines of muscles beneath. For someone so decidedly not human, he aped the form very well. “You won’t survive long in this water. You’re cold.”

He was stating the blindingly obvious. I began to swim, heading for the rocky coastline where lights glowed. I was still clumsy, still aching, but I was utterly determined not to allow Rashid the satisfaction of saving me.

After a beat, Rashid followed me, matching me stroke for stroke. The effort warmed my body, cleared my mind, and by the time I crawled up on the stones, battered by waves, I felt I might survive. That conviction quickly faded, though, as my wet clothing clung tightly, leeching the warmth from my skin, and I realized that I had no vehicle. No way to continue to Rose Canyon, where the map had shown me Alex—where I might, might find the other children, including Ibby. Where I might prevent more attacks, more deaths. More suffering.

If only I were not so desperately tired.

Rashid climbed up onto the rocks, sinuous as a panther, and looked down at me. So very Djinn. So very beautiful, perfect, arrogant. So curious, in the cock of his head as he watched me.

Then he crouched down and put a hand on my shoulder.

Warmth sheeted over me in a flood, sinking into every tissue, coursing through my nerves and bloodstream. Waking a sleepy satiation in me, and an almost overwhelming sense of exhaustion. I wanted, badly, to lay my head down on the cold rocks and sleep.

I fought it, somehow; simply Djinn stubbornness, my last inheritance from an endless lifetime of never surrendering to weakness. I pulled away from Rashid and stumbled to my feet. My clothes were dry, thanks to his efforts.

I realized, with an appalling sense of horror, that I was going to have to genuinely thank him. For saving me. That was very nearly worse than losing to the golem.

Rashid smiled, and whether he meant to or not, he robbed me of the necessity by saying, “The next time you call me a coward, I’ll rip your spine out and beat you with it. Just so we are clear on the matter.”