It was late afternoon by the time Col was making his way home. He was in better spirits; flying with Skylark always raised his mood. He had stopped off at the Hescombe chippy and was tucking into a packet of chips as he walked to Shaker Row. He wanted to pay George a visit. It was strange, to have a half-brother fourteen years his junior, but Col loved him no less. He prayed that he would also be a companion to mythical creatures. It would give them something in common, in spite of their age gap. If he was lucky enough to be a companion to pegasi, he could even be his mentor.

Col stopped at Number Five, chewing on his greasy snack, and knocked. No answer. Evelyn's car was still there- perhaps they had gone for a walk. Disappointed, Col turned, but then realized he didn't have to look far to find them. Evelyn was sitting by the coast in front of the houses, George in her lap.

"Hey, Evelyn!" Col called, heading towards them. Evelyn saw him and waved.

"Col, how nice to see you," she greeted, making room as he came and sat on the pebbles beside her. "How're things?"

"As well as they can be," Col answered.

He leant over and tickled his brother's chin. George's face broke into a huge smile.

"And how are we today, Georgie?" The infant gurgled.

"He's been mighty irritable, actually," Evelyn remarked. "I thought bringing him out by the sea might calm him. It seems to have worked so far. He likes the sound of the waves."

"You sound disappointed," Col said, downing the last of his chips.

"Of course I am," Evelyn sighed. "Don't you see- it's a sign that he's going to be in the Sea Snakes. He'll be one of Mack's."

"You don't know that for sure," Col said, letting George play with his empty chip packet. "Gran said Dad was the same with me, boasting how I'd taken to the sea just like him, and look at what happened." Col stopped there, not adding details about how much of a failure his father had made him feel. Ivor Coddrington was not the first to have been disdainful about the commonality of companions to pegasi.

Evelyn, however, seemed relieved by his tale.

"We'll bring out the banshee in you yet, my little dove," she said, kissing George. George giggled. Evelyn stroked his cheek, when she felt a drop of moisture on the back of her hand. She sniffed the air. "Looks like we're in for a spot of rain."

"But it was so clear." Col stood up, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Something was not right. He looked at the sky, watching the grey clouds swell, too quickly for his liking. "Evelyn, I think we should go inside." Evelyn was puzzled by his assertive tone.

"A spot of rain won't do any harm," she said, not moving.

"But…"

Before Col could protest further, there was a loud splash from the sea front, as if something heavy had fallen into it. Both Col and Evelyn looked up. The waves were frothy and white- something had disturbed them.

"I don't like this," Col said, stepping towards the water. He scanned the sands, looking for suspicious movement.

George suddenly gave a frightened wail. Col spun around, only to see the colour drain from Evelyn's face.

"Col, get back!" Her words had barely escaped her lips when there was a tremendous groan from the sea. Col's gaze shot towards the noise, wondering what on Earth could have made such a horrible sound.

There, its massive head cresting the waves, its coils billowing out, was the biggest serpent Col had ever seen. Its metallic silver body sparkled, even as the cloud gathered overhead. From afar it looked like some large piping from the refinery, half-submerged into the sea.

The serpent hissed, and then raised its head, its green eyes falling upon the infant which Evelyn held.

"Evelyn, run!" Col shouted. When she didn't respond fast enough, he snatched George from her arms. George immediately started to cry, not wanting to be torn from his mother. Evelyn came to her senses at his protests, and was soon hurrying back to Shaker Row. Col was right behind her, but George kept squirming, trying to break free from his grip.

"George, stop that!" Col muttered, not daring to glance back.

There was a rumble of thunder from the skies above, and a brilliant flash of lightning cracked, emblazoning the black clouds in a harsh, electric purple. The bolt hit the ground in front of Col. He stumbled, slipped on the pebbles, and then fell. He instantly rolled, letting George land on his stomach to stop him getting hurt. The blow knocked the wind out of him, and Col lay there for a moment, unable to move.

"GEORGE!"

Evelyn's scream prompted Col to jump up. He looked around, but the infant was missing. Where was George?

"George!" Col shouted, spotting his brother a few feet away. He lunged, trying to grab him, but another spark of lightning flashed. Temporarily blinded, Col missed, cutting his hands on the sharp rocks. He blinked, willing away the coloured spots that danced before his eyes.

"Not my baby!" screeched Evelyn, running towards her son. George was screaming at the top of his lungs.

She never reached him; by the time she passed Col, the monster in the ocean had made his move. With one swift flick of his tail, George was carried up, and away.

"George!" Evelyn hollered. "NO! Don't take him!"

Col scrambled to his feet, only to catch sight of the serpent bundling George in his cavernous mouth. Without further thought he raced into the water, and then swam as hard as he could, not caring for the icy coldness. But his athletic strokes were no match for the serpent, who was already gaining speed. Col soon gave up; there was no way he could catch the serpent this way. He swam back. Evelyn had collapsed to her knees, weeping.

Col reached for his phone; it was wet and wasn't working.

"Evelyn, go to Gran's," he said. Evelyn continued to cry hysterically. Col grabbed her shoulders, trying to shake some sense into her. "I'll follow that thing on Skylark, but you've got to go! I promise, I'll bring George home." Eventually, reason seemed to hit Evelyn, and she trundled towards her car, as if in a daze. Col didn't like to leave her alone, especially in a state of cold denial, but he had no time. The serpent would get too far ahead if he did not take chase soon.

"Skylark!"

Col's mental cry rang out strongly, but for a moment was met by silence. Col hoped Skylark hadn't gone home yet. A tense couple of minutes followed.

"Companion, what is the matter?"

"Skylark, get here, now!" The pegasus heard the urgency in Col's voice, and immediately made for the beach caves. Col ran to meet him, the pebbles sliding under his wet trainers. Barely waiting for the pegasus' hooves to touch the ground, he vaulted onto Skylark's back, and pointed to the open sea.

"Col, you want me to fly above water?"

"Follow that snake!" Col ordered, "and don't let it out of your sight!"

Skylark obliged, trotting out a short way, before embracing the wind. He rose higher and higher, leaving the thunderstorm behind, and soon Col spotted the serpent, which was winding its way south.

"Col, I will not be able to follow if the creature ventures any further off the coast," Skylark said.

"We have to keep up with it as long as we can," Col said, digging his hands into his mount's mane. The wind was blowing into his wet clothes and he was shivering, but he could not afford to stop and change. "It's taken George."

The pegasus neighed in shock.

"Why would the Leviathan want an infant?" he asked. Col's jaw dropped.

"That's the Leviathan? But isn't it supposed to be in Spain?"

"Perhaps, but I have no doubt as to the serpent's identity. Only he could summon a storm from the seas." Col growled.

"Well, whatever the hell that thing is, he's not getting away with this!" He crouched low, letting the raindrops plaster into his hair. "We've got to take him down!"

*****

Connie was lying on her island, too weak to move. Droplets of blood were trickling from her side wound, staining the pale sand with dark blotches. Her spirit was badly hurt, her original arrow injury torn open as if she had plunged a knife there.

"Kullervo?" she coughed, trying to seek out his presence. He was not there. Her ocean was empty. But the once-perfect sea now had two gaping chasms; one where her bond to dragons had been, and another, where a different connection lay. The Leviathan had taken his second victim- the Kraken.

Connie cursed herself for calling out for Mack. The Leviathan had seen that the Kraken was his match, and like any ruthless opponent had removed her access to it. But she had not expected the loss of a bond to have worsened her spirit injuries. She wanted to consult Kullervo. But where was he? It was just like him not to come when she called, but only when it suited him.

She rolled onto her good side, staring at the silver ocean. Far away, she could sense something approaching. Whether it was foe or friend remained to be seen. Connie prayed it was the latter- she was too hurt to defend herself. Her vision was blurry, and it was only when the creature was right on top of her did she recognize its familiar gentleness.

"Universal, what has happened?"

Windfoal bent down and nuzzled Connie's cheek. Connie stroked the unicorn's neck, comforted by her presence.

"The Leviathan attacked me here," she said, as Windfoal attempted to mend her wound. But the soothing light did not penetrate the bloody flesh- it kept circling around it, unable to enter and heal the hurt.

"This is strange," Windfoal said, concentrating harder. Yet still her healing aura could not join with Connie's mental form. "My powers cannot reach you. It is as if your wound is in a part of you no-one, mythical creature or human, can enter."

Connie hesitated. Should she talk about the shadow creature, and her wounded spirit?

"The Leviathan has attacked your spirit." Windfoal's quick presence of mind made the decision for her. "I would never have thought this possible. Mythical creatures have for so long been eluded by humans' essence. How could one of my fellow creatures do this?"

"Can…can anything be done?" Connie's voice was thin and trembling. Windfoal shook her forelock.

"I can only heal physical suffering," she said. "This is beyond me, Universal, and I fear beyond any of us. I regret being unable to help."

"Your company is help enough," Connie murmured, digging her hands into the unicorn's mane. Windfoal snorted.

"I must go, now," she said at last. "I have healed what I could."

"Thank you, Windfoal."

As Windfoal turned to leave, Connie found the strength to sit. At once the ocean and starlit sky faded, replaced by a green canvas ceiling. A fresh breeze was blowing in from the open tent flaps, and soothed her warm cheeks.

"Connie." Connie turned her head- she was lying on a camp bed- and saw Kira Okona beside her, Windfoal peering over her shoulder. The unicorn was too big to fit inside the tent; hence why the flaps were open. "How are you feeling?"

"Um…" Connie rose and swung her legs off the side of the bed, as if she had just woken from a refreshing nap. "Fine, I guess."

"Windfoal tells me that the Leviathan struck your spirit."

Connie nodded. It was no good trying to hide this- she would only end up worse.

"He's found a way inside me," she said, sighing. "I had no idea he was there- until a shadow appeared a few days ago. I found a way to free myself from his grip, but I…injured myself in the process."

"I see." Kira gave a thoughtful murmur. "What did the Leviathan say to you?"

"He said…" Here Connie paused. What could she say? That the Leviathan refused to stop his tidal waves unless she agreed to have her bonds to all mythical creatures, bar him, removed? No- she would have to improvise. "He was fed up of enduring the sea's pollution alone, and so felt he had to attack the sources."

"We suspected as much." Connie gave an inner sigh of relief- Kira seemed to accept her half-truth. "But if the Leviathan is capable of attacking your spirit, it would be a folly to send you out to speak with him again. We will have to do what we can without you."

As Kira stood up to leave, a part of Connie did not want to protest. Meeting the Leviathan again would indeed be suicide- not when she was weakened the way she was. But what could the others do? The Leviathan would rip them to pieces, and she could not bear knowing that their efforts were all in vain.

"Kira, wait!" she said. Kira stopped, turning back to her. "There's…The Leviathan said something else, too."

"Oh?"

"He…" Connie took a deep breath. "He wants me as his own companion."

For a long moment Kira said nothing. Then she placed her hand on Windfoal's shoulder, guiding her to the tent exit.

"I see. I will inform the others about this," Kira said, as Windfoal trotted outside. "As to your…spirit sickness, I think I shall call it, I believe Eagle-Child has some understanding in these matters. I will send him to you later. He may be able to help."

"Thank you."

Connie lay back on the camp bed as Kira closed the tent flap behind her. Though she felt physically well, there was a deep weariness within that she could not explain.

"Connie?" Connie looked to the tent entrance- Jessica was outside. "Can we come in?"

"Sure," Connie said. A bit of company would be better than lying here and feeling sorry for herself. Jessica opened the flap, and she and Arran stepped inside. The moment he was inside the canvas, Arran reverted to his selkie shape, and wriggled his way to the camp bed.

"How are you?" Jessica asked, sitting in the sand.

"I'm okay," Connie said, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry for putting you in such danger."

"Don't worry- we were expecting the Leviathan to do something, anyway," Jessica replied. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Yeah." Connie reached down and stroked Arran's head. "Thanks to Arran. You saved me from drowning."

Arran gave a happy bark, pressing his nose into Connie's hand.

"Are the others alright?"

"We're fine," Jessica said, laying her hand on Arran's smooth back. "We were lucky that the Kraken came in time."

Connie's heart burned at the mention of the creature. True, she had not shared a close connection to it, but it was a connection all the same. And it had saved her from the Leviathan. She would have to go out and thank Mack later.

"Hey Connie," Jessica said, "if you're feeling better later, would you like to come for a swim with us?"

Connie raised an eyebrow.

"Isn't it dangerous?"

"Universal!" Arran nipped her fingers. "The Leviathan can't come to shallow waters, he's too fat." Connie laughed at his comment. It sounded so childish, and yet such light humour was what she needed.

"Maybe later, then," she said. "I think Eagle-Child is going to visit me soon."

Jessica nodded, getting up. Arran shifted back into his human shape.

"We'll be near Ruby's tent- just come find us," Jessica said, before both she and Arran left. They crossed paths with Eagle-Child and Storm-Bird.

"Connie?" The Native American poked his head through the tent entrance. "Are you able to come outside? Storm-Bird can't fit under these things."

"Yes." Connie planted her bare feet into the sand, and got up without fuss.

"Come- we shall go to a more private spot."

Connie enjoyed the feeling of sand between her toes as she followed the Trustee and his companion along the shore. The waves rolled in, swirling round her feet, before withdrawing. Connie couldn't help but feel that the tide was leeching something from her, so she stepped onto drier land, avoiding its cold touch.

"Here." Eagle-Child stopped in the middle of the deserted beach. Behind them was a tall cliff, and on top of that was dense forest. It would provide ample cover. The tents were still visible behind them, but appeared as mere specks on the horizon. "Sit with me."

Connie approached him and adopted his cross-legged pose. Storm-Bird stood between them, the lightning crackling from his wings.

"Kira tells me that the Leviathan has somehow attacked your spirit," he said. Connie nodded.

"Impossible!" Storm-Bird's voice entered the conversation in Connie's mind. The great creature stared at Connie's injured self, both horrified and angered.

"Nonetheless, it has occurred," Eagle-Child replied calmly. "My tribe knows a little about the ways of the spirit. I do not know if it will equip you with the means for healing, but it is the best I can offer."

"I'm grateful for any help," Connie said.

Eagle-Child sat straight, resting his hands on his knees.

"Allow me into your mind," he said, shutting his eyes. "It will be easier for you to learn that way."

"Alright." Connie relaxed her body, and was soon in familiar territory. Then Storm-Bird and Eagle-Child's shadow self entered. Where they stood, the ocean parted, replaced by grassy field. Connie sat with them, feeling guilty that she was bleeding over such beautiful land.

"Oh my," Eagle-Child looked at her with grave concern. "Your wound is deep." Connie bit back a sarcastic retort- Kullervo's wit was rubbing off on her. "Let us begin. Are you able to sit?"

Connie's mental self tried, but it was too painful.

"Very well, lie in whatever position feels most comfortable." Connie obliged, at last finding a posture where her injury didn't throb so much. "Think of a place you feel most at peace, and picture yourself there." That was easy; Connie imagined the oak tree on the moor, and she was soon under its branches. "Good. Now listen to your self. Find the rhythm of your soul, where it rests within."

Connie listened, visualizing a golden thread that would lead her to the golden orb. But when she tried to follow it, the pain distracted her. She could not concentrate for long enough.

"I can't," she said.

"Embrace the pain," Eagle-Child said. Connie tried to block out the sensation, but it would always break through.

"Accept it," Storm-Bird called. "Do not cordon it off."

This time, Connie stopped fighting the discomfort. She let it grow worse, silencing urges to wince or cry out. Now she could sink through the layers of her self, tracing the thread toward the golden orb.

"Seek the pain," Eagle-Child's voice was faint. "Be drawn to it, but do not resist." Connie followed the sense of hurt, which led her closer to the orb. At last, she was there. The radiant orb had dimmed; an arrow and a lance were sticking out of it. Their point of impact had cracked the sphere of light, and energy was spilling out of it, like milk from a broken bottle.

Connie did not hesitate to reach for the weapons and remove them. As they came free, she screamed. She was nothing but pain. She could not hear, could not see. All that existed was this terrible ache that had taken over her being.

"Come to me, child." A voice- soothing, promising gentleness and safety. Connie sought it out, wanting to be free of hurt.

"We will be together," it whispered, coaxing Connie closer. "Just you and I."

"She already has me!"

Another voice- this one hard, assertive. Connie willed it to go away; she wanted the soft voice's comfort.

"Do not listen to the Leviathan's lies, Universal!" The loud voice was dragging her back, keeping her from her promised peace.

"No…"

"Come to me…"

"Resist, Universal!"

"I want…"

"Yes…"

"Will you forget our bond, companion?"

Connie groaned. Who was saying that?

"You are mine…"

"We are one…"

"You and I…"

"Together…"

"He is not yours…"

"I am your true companion…"

"I am…"

"I…"

"STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!"

Connie ran away- away from the voices, away from the pain. She had to get out. The golden orb vanished, and she was left in darkness. She didn't know where to go. In panic she ran harder, hoping she would come across the thread, but the more she ran, the more she became lost. She didn't know who she was.

"Help!" she cried out, struggling to keep pace. Her injuries were slowing her. "Help me!"

"Connie…"

Connie seized that faint echo, turning into a delicate thread, tracing it upwards. It was so hard, staving off the blackness around her. It pressed on her, suffocating, choking. The thin golden strand struggled to keep its form.

"Connie…" My name, Connie thought, clinging to the syllables, rolling them off her tongue, letting them strengthen the thread. My name is Connie Lionheart. I am a universal companion. Companion to all…but with none to call my own…

"Connie!"

Connie opened her eyes. She was curled up in the sand with her hands cradling her face. She let out a moan.

"Connie, what happened?" Eagle-Child was beside her, his tough hand on her shoulder. "I lost contact with you." Connie didn't answer; she was too shaken by the experience. Eagle-Child sat with her, stroking her arm. The simple movement brought Connie out of her panicked state, and her breathing slowed.

"Sorry," she mumbled. That world record was as good as hers.

"Don't apologize," Eagle-Child said, helping her to sit up. "Perhaps it was rash of me to interfere."

"No!" Connie grabbed his hands. "No, you've helped me remove the cause of my injuries. I should get better now."

Eagle-Child gave her hands a squeeze.

"You gave us quite a scare," he said. "But I am glad at least some good has come of this. Can you make it back to camp, or shall I request aid?"

"I can walk," Connie said, standing up. Her muscles eagerly accepted her pleas for movement, but a heaviness in her chest resisted. She concentrated on her physical senses, and let her feet take her back.

"You must rest," Eagle-Child said, as they arrived by her tent. "You need time to heal." Connie did not argue. "Do not worry about the Leviathan- we will deal with him for now. It is too dangerous to let you near him."

Connie sighed, watching the Trustee and his companion walk away. She felt so guilty. Everyone would have to face the Leviathan's wrath, when only she had the means to stopping him. He would never stop until she was his. Just like Kullervo.

Connie entered her tent and slipped into her sleeping bag, though it was only early evening. She was resigned to accept that there was nothing she could do to stop the Leviathan, except get better. As her eyes closed, a brief flash of anger flared through her.

She would make the Leviathan pay for her suffering.