With the aid of Amanda's light Hadama swam slowly ahead, pointing at the places where stalagmites grew sharp teeth towards the surface of the water. At low tide they'd be clearly visible, but in the dark at high tide they were treacherously hidden just below the surface. The cave went back a few dozen feet and contained a damp ledge at the back that was five or six feet deep. Stalactites dotted the ceiling though their slow dripping was lost in the echoes of the waves that slapped against the sides of the cave as well as the hull of Amanda's canoe.
"I cannot," he rumbled with a slight shake of his head. Though his voice was quiet it still sent echoes through the enclosed space. "But it may awaken later in your life." Or at least it had for him. "Does magic run in your family?"
"I cannot," he rumbled with a slight shake of his head. Though his voice was quiet it still sent echoes through the enclosed space. "But it may awaken later in your life." Or at least it had for him. "Does magic run in your family?"
