Kingdom of Salt and Sirens

by J. A. Armitage

  “But you’ve only had that since . . . when?” She wasn’t certain how to proceed. Steadily, voices in her head screamed at her. His pain and suffering was so much, and she was the selfish one. She had repaid his hardships with rejection. Horrible. She was horrible.

  “The moment I saw you. It strengthened when I met you, but I had a brief time to come to terms with it before then while I was . . . well, attempting to reel in my mistake.”

  Her breaths shortened, and she swam back, her tail running over a rough edge and twinging in pain. She flicked away from the rock awkwardly, propelling herself down, and hit the ground with a dull thud. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I just—”

  His arms pulled around her, pressing her tight to his chest. “I said I wouldn’t let you go there again.” He spoke firmly, a hand clamped against her head. “You’ve spared me, Asaria. What I did was wrong. I broke rules that Beyond embedded in my head when I was born. My mistake has harmed people already. If I don’t pass the test, you’ve given me nothing but peace. If I do, I hope that makes me worthy of your third chance. Of you.”

  “What did your loneliness feel like?” she whispered, tears filling her eyes and melding with the warm water on every blink. “If you could share our connection, could you—”

  “No.” His hand skimmed down her back, and he moved away. “It’s different.”

  A single grain of sand fluttered through the hourglass.

  She closed her eyes to avoid watching it fall. “Even if I would forgive you?”

  His thumb brushed her cheek, soft pain flecking in his pale blue eyes. “My lily, I would never intentionally cause you such pain.”

  22

  Change

  Just the memory tortured her. During the past three days, they had come to a mutual understanding while they traveled. Nothing was certain in any moment, and she needed space. Laughter and lore no longer marked their journey as Yuval allowed her the room to breathe.

  To recall the sensation of his lips against her forehead and the emotion that followed, filling every crack in her being.

  Closing her eyes, she traced a finger over her shell and drew strength from the symbol. She had never fallen into trying drugs, though she had found herself in a handful of compromising situations that allowed her the opportunity. Something about the idea of becoming reliant on a mind-altering substance sent her into panic, and yet the heady taste Yuval had spared her swirled, already a fleeting addiction she craved another hint of.

  “Do you think people can change?” she asked. “Or do you think we just get better at acting?”

  Yuval startled, eyes widening, and she knew why. She hadn’t initiated a casual conversation since before she knew the truth. Blinking, he glanced up and pondered the question. “If someone commits to a certain act faithfully, I’d count their efforts as real change.”

  Asaria fixed her eyes on the distant wall of the caverns. The labyrinth loomed, casting a shadow that stretched well across the heated land but offered no shade. Every flip of her tail brought her closer to home, closer to choices she would have to make. No matter how her relationship with Yuval evolved, she refused to use him or Ocea as a way to run away. She would face her friends and her family no matter her ending decision.

  Just the thought made her shoulders tighten and her hand clench around her shell.

  “Do you want to change?” Yuval asked.

  Her shoulders dropped when she looked at him, into his sincere eyes. “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “I,” he paused, brows lowering, “I don’t think so. Some people seem happy as they are.”

  Emilia did, but the fun-loving girl had once confessed she wished more people took her seriously, that she weren’t so small, and that she could drop nearly half her weight. Ashlyn also gave off an air of contentedness, but even she wished she had more motherly traits and desperately wanted children.

  “Outward appearances can be deceiving. That’s the act, after all,” Asaria murmured. “You have to chip that away when you get to know someone, when they place their trust in you.”

  “What do you want to change?” he asked.

  Her lips parted to answer almost immediately, but she closed them and let the innocent question linger in her mind. She wanted strength. Confidence. Intelligence. So many things. But why? She exhaled, the breath fanning past her lips in a tiny current. “I think I want to be the kind of person people see and hear, the kind of person who isn’t afraid to be seen or heard.” Her cheeks flushed when she looked away. She wanted to be like Acacia—a princess who was beloved, needed, important. But she didn’t want her kingdom given to her. She wanted to build it herself.

  Yuval stopped, his hand catching her elbow. She turned, cheeks flaring with worry that he’d heard what she hadn’t said, but his eyes didn’t focus on her. They skimmed the edges of the volcanic plain, tracing each shadow. “I thought . . .”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, webbed fingers slipping off her elbow, a coolness she quickly missed. “Sorry. Nothing should be out here, but I thought I saw something move.” Continuing forward, he said, “When we first met, you were shocked, but after some initial staring wore off, your gaze would shift off mine and down when we were talking. I noticed it with Seora too. That already conveys a lack of confidence and opens the way for you to be overlooked.”

  She met his eyes, biting her cheek as she did so. After several seconds, he smiled, and her gaze skidded away.

  “See? You back down before allowing yourself a chance.”

  Her eyes widened, stomach churning. “Something moved behind that volcano.”

  Before Yuval had a chance to turn, a ribbon shot through the water toward him. He dove against her, shoving her out of the way. Body hitting solid ground, she scrambled for footing, remembered she didn’t have feet, and launched away before the creature darted again.

  The blue and black eel was the size of her head and twice her length. Needle-point teeth gnashed while the creature’s long body writhed. Gripping her shell, she smashed the flat side against its head when it pounced at her.

  Without pause, it twisted for another attack.

  Yuval’s back blocked her view, then a sickening crunch splattered the water, rising in a cloud of red before him. The limp creature fell at his feet, head crushed and teeth askew in a broken jaw.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, and she blinked, yanking her gaze off the eel when he faced her.

  “I think so.”

  Yuval’s stern expression didn’t lighten as he took her hand and examined her knuckles. “You got in a great hit,” he murmured, fingers caressing the raw skin. Already a tingle formed, healing her, but his touch stayed.

  She glanced at the dead eel again, its blue skin going glassy. “Yuval, wasn’t it blue and black moments ago?”

  His brows lowered, and his head turned. Panic sparked through their touch as his fingers spasmed. Releasing her hand, he knelt by the wisping cloud of blood. “We need to go.” He rose. “Now.”

  “What?” she asked, but he pushed her back, starting her forward. “What’s going on?” she pleaded.

  He spoke quickly, and his pace reflected the speed. “It’s a peaceful species that lives on the outskirts of Mori.”

  Her heart pounded, dread welling. “What’s it doing all the way out here?”

  His eyes found her, and she kept their gaze. “Exactly.” Webs fully connecting his fingers, Yuval plowed along beside her, swimming instead of walking. “It’s known for speed, but it would still take some time to travel this far. It met us on the fourth day of our return. If we’re generous and say it would take a week and a half to reach us—”

  “It’s been ten days since; Wyre was unchecked for twelve.”

  Yuval didn’t slow even when he glanced her way. “And a lot can happen in that time.”

  ↜❀↝

  Exhaustion took hold the moment they entered the caverns. Soft light from the bioluminescent flowers filled the fi
rst chamber, the sun well past set, and Asaria took deep breaths when Yuval slowed.

  His fist slammed against the rock wall, and she jumped. Accented curses spilled from his lips into the water. Scrubbing his face, he paced. Another curse. Another punch.

  The raw skin on his hand peeled, and she was certain his clear blood followed into the water even if she could only see minor distortion. When he reeled back for another hit, she dropped her shell and swam to his side, catching his arm. Tormented eyes found hers, and she held them, unsure what else to do. His eyes slipped away first, then his arms yanked her against his body. Stiff, she remained motionless, feeling the vibration of each of his shaking breaths.

  “What if I’ve lost them?” he whispered, voice harsh. “What if I’ve lost everything?”

  Hesitant, Asaria lifted her arms and circled them around his body, placing her palms flat against his smooth back. She closed her eyes. “I don’t think so. This feels like a taunt. Something to get in your head. You—” she exhaled “—crushed that eel with your bare hands. There’s a slim chance Wyre thought it would take care of you. And if he’s taunting when you’re so far away, I can only imagine his plan would be to watch when your darkest moments take hold up close.”

  He squeezed her as though her touch provided him strength. “Please be right.”

  Pressing her lips together, she tried not to focus on her own panic. All this time, she had been the distraction to lead him away from his people. If anything horrible had happened, the blame fell on her. A stilted breath left her lungs. “Do you know where he came from? Why he would be doing any of this?”

  Yuval slowly uncurled from around her, folding his arms when they had separated. Pain remained coursing through his eyes as he focused on the ground. “Our worlds are aligned in separate planes, if that makes sense. Some areas of this world are spotted with blemishes of darkness, land that works as prisons to hold the corrupt and homes to some who thrive in the shadows. Thankfully, my land doesn’t have any such blemishes, but I believe when I reached for you, where you were aligned with one.”

  “So Wyre really is an escaped prisoner?”

  Yuval’s fist raised, halting just before hitting rock again. He turned his back on her, muscles tensing. “A prisoner I released.”

  “How quickly do you think we can get back?” Without thinking, she set her hand against his spine. His shoulders slumped when he sighed.

  Words soft, he replied, “No less than seven days.”

  “Then we’ll be certain in seven days. Seora and your guards may have already handled things even if he evaded them in the beginning. We don’t know, and we shouldn’t worry about what we don’t know.” The mantra fell out of her mouth like a bland song on repeat. It had never helped her when Ashlyn or Emilia said it, but it was all she had to offer in the moment.

  He looked at her, and her eyes glanced at his chest before going wide. She whispered, “There’s more sand.”

  His chin dropped, and his lips parted. Three tiny flecks had joined the other few, creating a small pile in the bottom of the glass. Head jolting back up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I haven’t lied, Asaria. I swear.”

  She shook her head. “I know. It doesn’t just measure whether you’re lying or not. On top of a chance to prove yourself, I asked for time to make two things right: my curse and Wyre, if he was still around.”

  Yuval’s jaw tightened. “Then I’m running out of time?”

  “Then we still have time. And we’ll know the damage as it comes.”

  Realization sparked through his eyes along with the barest hint of hope. He laid a hand over the hourglass and clenched his fist. “Without even knowing it, you’re brilliant, Asaria.”

  Heat coated her cheeks. She looked at the center of the chamber, where her shell lay discarded among the gentle glow of plants. “Wai lily . . .” she murmured, swimming toward her shell. Picking it up, she kept her attention off him however she could. “I hate my name.” And she didn’t want to admit when he said it, she hated it less and less.

  23

  Rush

  “It’s adorable.” The dark voice slid into her mind, and Asaria was almost growing used to the unwelcome presence. Her eyes opened, scanning her family’s beach. Rain clouds rolled in the sky, and a storm closed in on every side, but right where she stood, it was quiet.

  Frowning, she looked at Wyre. His sharp grin made her swallow and tense, but she at least managed to keep her eyes on his mouth. “What is?” she choked.

  “You, of course. Or rather, those little thoughts spinning in your head.”

  Her chest constricted. “What?”

  “Weak little Asaria, falling in love.” He laughed. “But then I suppose your romance would have to be written in the stars. Only divine intervention could make someone love you, and it’s simplest to just accept what fate has dictated for you.”

  She clenched her fists until her short nails dug into her skin. “I’m not falling in love. I’m still deciding whether or not I can trust him again.”

  “Sure,” Wyre replied dryly. The sky crackled with distant lightning as he moved around her, circling like during that first storm, the one that had set fate into motion. “He doesn’t really care for you anyway. You tasted the drug after all. If you took that away, nothing would hold him to you. Or should I say, to someone like you.”

  The thought had crossed her mind once or twice after tasting the spark, but she’d shoved it away. She had seen love in his eyes right afterwards. Hadn’t she? “What do you mean ‘someone like me’?” she whispered.

  Wyre’s deep laugh accompanied thunder, the storm closing in. “Without you, I wouldn’t exist. And in every moment when I could have been removed after the fact, you’ve stood in the way. If he hadn’t saved you, he could have caught me. If he didn’t need to break your curse, Ocea wouldn’t be vulnerable.” His head tipped, and her eyes met his as a slow smile sent a chill racing down her spine. “He deserves better than someone like you who has caused all his problems and can’t even decide if you’d like to stop tormenting him. Everything he’s done he’s done for you. Yet you’ve paid him back with nothing but petty cruelty.”

  The open sky clouded and darkened, drops of rain falling lightly around Asaria. Wyre looked up and held out his arms to welcome the shower. A sigh breathed past his lips. “Let’s have some fun . . .”

  Before Asaria could remind herself the scene in front of her couldn’t be real—she hadn’t made it home yet or even broken the curse—a form rose from the waves. Water cascaded off Yuval, running back into the ocean while he made his steady approach.

  Black veins cut through his pale skin, the same designs she had seen on the eel before its demise, and she stepped back. Wyre’s hands planted themselves against her shoulders, holding her in place. “Now, now, the show’s only starting.”

  “You did this.” Yuval’s lips moved, the hollow words dripping from them. Dead, grey eyes focused on her, and she couldn’t look away. “You’re pathetic,” he spat, reaching her. His hand lifted slowly, and Asaria fought against Wyre’s hold, listening to his cooing murmurs, distant screams, and pouring rain. Yuval’s hand locked around her throat, and her lips gaped when he squeezed. “Why do you even exist?”

  Asaria gasped awake, mouth and eyes wide, expecting to see the cavern ceiling. Instead, a ghostly white face stared down at her, worry etched in blue eyes. She screamed, and her tail flipped, sending her to the other side of the chamber. Pressed against the wall and breathing heavily, she watched Yuval straighten.

  Her heart pounded, and she shook. The dream. It had felt too real. Could Wyre have used magic to actually get into her head and bring her these nightmares? But, no, he couldn’t know her sparse thoughts or insecurities. Her own mind toyed with her, content to shatter itself over and over.

  Yuval took a single step toward her and stopped. “You screamed,” he said. “Twice, I mean.” His fingers flexed, then stilled as he looked at her from halfway across the room.
“Is everything okay?”

  “Am I torturing you?” The words escaped before she had a chance to stop them. Why was the world so unfair? It didn’t give her a choice, but it did give her consequences. Any action she made in an attempt to fight the system hurt those around her. She didn’t want to hurt him or anyone else. All she really ever wanted was a quiet life riding the waves.

  “What?” His brows lowered, and he crossed to her side. Intensity filled his pale eyes, so she looked away. “Wai lily,” his hand cupped her chin, “look at me, princess.”

  Her heart thundered, but she couldn’t sink into the wall behind her, so she had to face him.

  “If you were torturing me in your nightmare, I’m going to be very offended.”

  “I—”

  His forehead pressed against hers, calm running through her with the action. “I’m joking.”

  She exhaled and held onto the unnatural calm he sent through her, replying, “You’re acting strange after last night.”

  He stepped back, and panic immediately spiked. Could she still be in the dream? Was this just another trap? His hand lifted, and she squeezed her eyes shut, expecting him to choke her again. He said, “Time went backwards.”

  She cracked an eyelid, focusing on where he pointed. The hourglass. Sure enough, the small mound that had formed yesterday had shrunk during the night. Her mouth opened. “That means . . .”

  His smile brightened his scaled face, sharp teeth displayed. “My people are okay and fighting. We have a chance.”

  Laughter bubbled out of her chest, all lies forgotten for the moment, and she flipped forward, setting her hands on his shoulders. “We can make it?”

  He held her waist, spinning her high into the water and around in a sweeping arc. “We can probably make it.”

  “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

  “I’m waiting for an explanation as to why you woke up screaming.” His sincere gaze pinned her, joy still flickering in his light-colored eyes. “And is my face really that terrifying?”