As sunrise washed over the water, Rowan struggled to pull in a net heavier than anything he’d handled in ages. Inside lay a huge, misshapen object, its surface buried beneath layers of barnacles. At first glance, it looked like the largest clam he’d ever encountered—until a subtle flash of metal shimmered through the encrusted shell, hinting that this was something entirely different.
The exterior was far too solid, its symmetry almost unnatural. It didn’t give or bend the way any shell should. Rowan’s heartbeat quickened as he slid his knife into a narrow crease, scraping off clusters of hard barnacles. A sudden, ringing metallic clang echoed across the deck. A chill crept up his arms. Whatever he’d pulled from the deep, one thing was certain—it wasn’t a creature at all.
With one last strike, a thick barnacle cracked loose, exposing a thin groove that resembled a hinge far too perfectly. Rowan’s hands stopped mid-motion, his breath stalling in his chest. This wasn’t a clam—this was crafted, constructed, deliberately sealed. Years of ocean growth had hidden it, turning it into something unrecognizable.
He hovered over the lid, suddenly unsure if opening it was brave… or dangerously foolish.
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