River witch
Its chest housed a songstone, pulsing with old hunger.
“It’s coming,” Jonas shouted. “We’re not going to make it!”
“Yes, we are,” Maya said, her voice iron now. “We have to finish the chord.”
She gripped the dagger and began to sing again.
This time, Sefina joined her.
Two voices. One of the river. One of the drowned.
The harmonies were discordant, then aligned. The water listened.
The world listened.
The Sovereign slowed.
Its arms twitched.
Then—it shattered.