The moon cast a pale, fractured light over the coral reef.
The Baize rested on a jagged rock jutting out of the surf. It looked like a white goat with human features and too many eyes, each one capable of seeing a different spectrum of truth. It was arranging sea-glass and crab shells into a pattern. Spindlebind. It sought to divine the future of the tides.
"The water is angry," the Baize murmured, one of its eyes twitching.
Fifty yards out, the surface broke.
The Adaro rose. It was a nightmare of the Solomon Islands—a man with the fin of a shark, the gills of a fish, and eyes filled with the cold, predatory instinct of the deep. It held a spear made from the bill of a swordfish, tipped with poison.
The Scholar's Gambit
The Baize stood up, shaking its wet fur. "Creature of salt and hate," it projected, its voice a mental whisper. "I know your true name. I know the current that birthed you. Leave, and I shall tell you where the pearl beds lie."
It was a standard tactic: Knowledge Bargain. Most spirits paused for secrets.
The Adaro did not pause. It hissed, a sound like steam escaping a vent, and drew back its arm.
"Talk is air," the Adaro gurgled. "Air drowns."
The Barrage
The Adaro didn't just throw the spear. It commanded the ocean. Flying Fish Barrage.
Dozens of silver slivers erupted from the waves. They weren't just fish; they were projectiles, hardened by magic and guided by the Adaro's will.
The Baize bleated in alarm. It tried to invoke Green-Table Guise, pulling the mist around itself to vanish, but it was too slow.
The fish struck like darts. One grazed the Baize's flank. Another struck its shoulder. The venom was immediate—a burning, paralytic fire that clouded the Baize’s all-seeing eyes.
"Predict this," the Adaro sneered.
The shark-man rode a wave onto the rock, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The Baize, its legs failing, tried to butt with its horns, but the Adaro was a creature of war, not debate.
The Adaro swept the Baize's legs with its tail and pinned the scholar to the rock.
"I know... everything..." the Baize wheezed, black veins spreading from the wounds.
"Then you knew this was coming," the Adaro replied, and dragged the spirit into the dark water.