“Won’t the merrows die if we leave them out of the water?” Laverick asks.
“They’ll be fine for a short while.” Muriel whirls on Osric. “You were supposed to bring back four of them, one for each of you.”
“We lured in five, but two escaped. Muriel, we can stop this now.”
“We certainly cannot. The injury is done. King Dorian will never forgive me, and my frown lines will be permanent.” By her tone, she believes the latter is the worse fate. “You caught three merrows, and there are four of you. Decide which of you is staying and we will begin the transference.” She murmurs to her cats during her return to the cavern. “They can’t hurt you, my pets. I won’t let those nasty things eat you.”
Osric wears a troubled frown. “Was Muriel acting strange to you?”
“Compared to what?” Jamison answers.
The four of us dodge each other’s gazes while we form arguments for why we shouldn’t be the one left behind. I won’t leave whether I live or die up to someone else, and Osric has to go because he’s our guide. Jamison is the only one injured, but his arm has stopped bleeding and he seems to be managing the pain.
Laverick meets my stare. “No, Everley. Claret is down there. I’m going.”
“Let the rest of us find her and bring her back.”
“Why don’t you stay and let us bring back the sword?” she counters.
Objectively, I understand her frustration, but personally, my panic mounts at the thought of not having a hand in what becomes of the sword—or me. This is something I must do myself. “I have to go because Father Time asked me to.”
“If Everley says that she must get the sword herself, then she must,” Osric proclaims. “Let’s all remember whose weapon it truly is.”
Laverick’s posture sinks. “Then what do we do?”
If I had a few years to spare, I would ask Muriel to show me the result of this expedition for each different pairing of our group so I could make an educated decision.
“I’ll stay,” says Jamison.
“No,” I reply, even though I don’t have a good reason besides wanting him with me. Laverick should be the one to stay, not him.
“You need Osric as a guide,” he says. “I’ll stay and guard the merrows.”
“It’s settled, then,” Osric declares. He goes back to the cavern, and Laverick trudges out behind him.
“I want you to come with me,” I tell Jamison.
“I do too.” He skims his thumb across my cheek and smiles cheekily. “Be careful, my treasure.”
I cannot come up with a playful nickname for him in return. This transference scares me, as does losing a whole day of my life. I should have that much time left in my ticker, but what if I’m wrong? My clock heart is beating so faintly I can scarcely feel it. What if it stops while I’m underwater? This could be the last thing I ever do.
“Jamison, I think you should know something.”
His countenance becomes somber. “I have something to discuss with you as well.”
“You do?” I ask, my ticker skipping a beat.
Osric appears in the passageway. “Hurry up, you two. We’re ready to begin, and may I remind you that Prince Killian has a head start?”
“We’ll speak on this later.” Jamison presses his lips to my forehead. I lean into him and will my heart to keep beating long enough for our future conversation to happen.
My leaden legs carry me into the pool cavern. Muriel stands beside the section of the wall where I etched my name, arranging three chairs in a line. All the merrows have awoken, and they are blindfolded and gagged.
“Are the gags necessary?” I ask.
“They are if you don’t want to hear what scathing things Princess Nerina had to say about you.” Muriel fingers her pearl necklace with one hand and touches the princess’s crown with her other. “Osric, you’ll take the form of the princess.”
Princess Nerina stiffens. She can hear what’s happening, which could be detrimental to us once we let her go. Muriel must not be concerned, though, as she has made no effort to whisper or take our discussion elsewhere. The princess’s companions, her friends, are still as well. One of them is tall and the other stocky. They both look terrified.
“The other merrows will think you are the princess,” Muriel goes on, “so be mindful of what you say and do.”
Osric’s glower turns grave. Acting as the princess will be a substantial burden to bear. We would have blended in more easily as civilians. Still, with him as Princess Nerina, our group should have better access to the castle and sword.
“Please sit so we may begin,” Muriel says, her tone too chipper, considering we’re about to commandeer three bodies. We sit in the chairs facing the pool, our backs to the wall and the merrows lying on the path to our right. “To transfer your spirits with theirs, we must connect your creation powers. Much in the same way the Everwoods unite the worlds, creation power unites us all.”
She extends a fingernail and punctures the merrow princess’s fin. Nerina bucks in anger as Muriel squeezes several drops of green blood into a cup of water. The sea hag does the same to the other merrows, each of their blood going into a separate water cup. As she brings the cups to us, Princess Nerina swipes her tail out, nearly tripping her. I take the first two cups from Muriel while she balances herself and swap mine with Osric’s before passing it to him.
“Do we have to drink it?” Laverick asks, taking her cup. The blood has diluted so it’s no longer visible, but the concoction is still unappetizing.
“Oh, my, no. Now, we prick your skin and add your blood.” Muriel passes us a needle to do the work ourselves.
I brace myself against the incoming discomfort and poke my finger. Blood beads up, and I squeeze three droplets into the water. Osric and Laverick do the same, and then we stare into our cups at the unappetizing mixture. I’m glad we don’t have to drink this, because I doubt I could force it down.
“Next, set your cup on the floor in front of you,” says Muriel. “Lord Callahan and I will bind you to your chair. We don’t want the merrows running away with your bodies.” The hag cackles as if that’s the wittiest thing she’s ever said.
Princess Nerina hasn’t moved since her blood was taken. She’s listening to our every word.
Jamison ties us up while Muriel prepares our gags and blindfolds for the merrows after we’ve switched forms. The reason for them disquiets me. I’m giving temporary rule over my body to a fish. Had I the choice, I would rather wear the finperson’s skin again.
Muriel sprinkles granules of sand into each cup and backs away to our left. “To finish the ritual, you must each kick your cup into the sea.”
“That’s it?” Laverick asks. “We just knock the cup over?”
“Did you expect me to feed you a potion or cast a spell?”
“Nooooooo,” Laverick replies, drawing out the word in indecision. Osric lifts his foot and waits for us, but Laverick has another concern. “What happens if we die while we’re switched?”
“If you perish, they will too, and the opposite applies.”
The princess protests, her voice muffled by the gag.
Muriel takes on the same tone she uses to pacify her cats. “Lord Callahan, Radella, and I will keep close watch over your bodies. Go find Claret.”
Laverick closes her eyes, her muscles tense. I hold myself still so I can sense my ticker. Its faint murmur is so alarming I almost withdraw.
“Everyone on three.” Muriel raises her hands like a conductor and counts us down with overexaggerated hand motions. “One. Two—”
We kick the cups over at the same time. As the water-and-blood mixture pours into the sea, my spirit drains out of me and I float above myself. The princess’s spirit has left her form as well, her expression petrified.
I flow past her spirit and pour inside her body in one quick rush. When I open my eyes, I’m blindfolded, and my wrists and mouth are bound. Other than the absence of having knees and feet, I feel like mys
elf.
A peculiar sensation greets me that I haven’t felt in too long.
Thump . . . thump . . . thump.
The beat of my heart. I still to listen to its rhythmic pulse; it is the most beautiful song in all creation.
Someone removes my blindfold. I look up at Muriel as she pulls the gag from my mouth and unties me. Jamison does the same for the other two merrows.
“Osric?” Muriel asks.
“Here,” replies a feminine voice. His spirit occupies the shorter merrow with bulging eyes and frayed hair.
Muriel frowns. “Then who . . . ?”
“Everley, you didn’t,” Jamison breathes.
“Ah.” The sea hag steps back. “Clever lass.”
I explain in my new, shriller voice, “I brought us to this world and got us into this, so I should take the biggest risk.”
“You did this to gain an advantage,” a voice snarls.
Laverick transferred spirits with the taller, thinner merrow. She thinks I’m hurting our chances of succeeding.
Across the way, my head rises and my blue eyes blink at me. Princess Nerina glances around in horror and then down at herself. “What did you do to me? I’m—I’m hideous!” Jamison starts to blindfold her, and she snaps, “Don’t touch me, land vermin.”
“I still owe you for the bite you gave me, so quit moving.” He wraps the blindfold around her head.
Nerina stops writhing and gasps. “What’s wrong with me?” She wheezes twice as hard as a moment ago. “I’m Princess Nerina of the merrows! You could have at least transferred me into a stronger body. Something is dreadfully wrong with this one.”
“Would someone please calm her down before she stops my ticker?” I say.
“Is that what’s wrong with you?” Nerina replies. “How do you swim with this mechanism in your chest?”
“I don’t.”
The princess’s gape widens. “You live half a life, woman. This heart is weak. You are weak. I could never withstand your—”
Jamison shoves the gag in her mouth. Though I am no longer in my body, he brushes back her disheveled hair and adjusts her shirt. His tenderness with her—with me—stirs something far down inside me.
I care about Jamison. I care about him very much.
He crouches down in front of me in the merrow body and searches my face for some sort of connection. I sense his disappointment in me, but more so his anger. I see the moment he recognizes my spirit in the softening of his troubled eyes. “Evie, it’s just a sword.”
“I had to do this.” The second I return, I will tell him everything. I want him to know all of it, even the things Father Time warned me against revealing. Secrets are a form of protection, but I’ve no reason to protect myself from Jamison.
Princess Nerina tugs furiously at her bindings, rubbing red marks into my skin. I trust Jamison will prevent her from doing too much damage to my body.
“Can someone help me into the water?” Laverick asks. “My tail is starting to feel stiff.”
“Your tail,” I remark, smirking.
She completely ignores my attempt at humor.
Osric rolls into the water and goes under. Jamison slides Laverick in and then me. As I’m submerged, small flaps cover my nostrils. Bubbles billow out of my mouth, and when I inhale salt water, the water flows out of gills along the base of my throat.
Laverick practices breathing underwater beside me. Once we let go of the concept of depending on air to breathe, the three of us swim about the lagoon. My eyesight is remarkably clear, although the farther I descend from the torchlight, the less colors are visible. Our surroundings deepen to purples and blues.
My powerful tail drives me into a wall on accident, and in correcting myself, I bump into Laverick. She scowls and swims across the pool. We do two more laps, and then Osric points his thumb up, motioning for us to surface. We’ve used up our practice time. Dawn is only a few hours away. We must go now to arrive at the castle before the merrows go to sleep for the day.
Muriel smiles widely at us, the corners of her mouth stiffer and the lines around her eyes deep. Something is amiss.
“Muriel, is there anything else we should know before we set out?” I ask.
“Only that this is precisely what you should be doing and where you should be.” She takes off her pearl necklace and slides it over my head. “Tell the king my debt is settled.”
“We’ll add that to the list, after we rescue a human and steal an eternal relic,” Osric says dryly. He points his thumb downward to indicate he’s diving.
I connect gazes with Jamison, send him a reticent smile, and then sink down into the true Land Under the Wave.
Chapter Twenty
Heart pumping, tail swishing, hair floating, and chest stretching, I swim the labyrinth of passageways out of the grotto. Breathing in and out through the gills along the base of my throat, I fight the inclination to return to the surface. Instead, I normalize my inhales and exhales to a relaxed rate and keep swimming so I don’t sink like a stone.
When we enter the cove alongside the spit, the current tugs at me, attempting to shove me off course. Relying on the strength of my tail, I remain on track and stay close to Osric and Laverick. My tail does most of the propulsion, my arms and hands perform tiny course corrections to stabilize my direction.
We exit the cove and set out into the open sea, angling downward into the abyss. The water grows colder, yet the merrow body regulates its temperature masterfully.
Without this acute eyesight, the darkness may have closed in around me and brought upon panic. Remarkably, the colors are saturated, the blues rich and soft, lovelier than a dream. The seafloor is covered with corals of all shapes and sizes. They grow tall like trees with branches and round like bushes, almost like an underwater forest.
The reef, which I assume is Skull Reef, is filled with fish of every size and color. Whereas my human nose would only smell brininess, my heightened sense of smell picks up many scents—a tangy fragrance, something floral and sweet, and something clean and bright. My father would have enjoyed exploring these watery depths, whereas my mother would have advised me to stay on land. My perspective lies somewhere in between. I am apprehensive about venturing deeper yet keen to descend farther into unseen trenches.
Several gray creatures shoot past us, startling me, and then circle back. They are seals, eyes big and yellow and skins pale silver. I cannot tell if they’re selkies, but regardless, they dart in between us, their swift movements like underwater dancing.
Not too far offshore, the seals split away from us, and we swim toward the blue lights in the deep. The small, glowing shellfish form long roadways through the midnight waters. Osric selects a highway for us to follow. I have no sense of which direction we are swimming, only that we are plunging farther into the heart of the sea.
My tail works effortlessly to push me forward, and it isn’t until a smaller fish speeds past without moving its fins that I realize the road coincides with a current. I relax my tail, surrendering to the sea’s power, and soar. Laverick and Osric do the same, each of us taking turns spinning upside down in corkscrews.
My heartbeat speeds up from the thrill of propelling effortlessly through the water. I haven’t had a real heart in so long that I delight in the strain of its quick beat, the sensation of living on the edge of its might. Part of me wishes I could keep this heart and stay here forever, careening through the Land Under the Wave with my pulse hammering boldly.
We race along the sparkling-blue highway, past jellyfish and squid, but no other merrows and no finfolk are visible. Our path widens as it veers sharply downward. I lost sight of the surface long ago. I have no concept of how deep we are as we plummet farther.
“Osric,” I say, “when were you here before?” My voice carries out and comes back to me as though someone else spoke. Sound travels faster underwater, muddling the origin.
“I was smuggling goods at the time,” he says, referencing the smuggling business he and
Markham ran.
“You’ve grown up since then,” I remark.
“We never quit growing and learning, no matter how old we are.”
“Muriel has proved that,” Laverick says, her opinion of the sea hag harsher than my own. “She still acts like a child.”
“Muriel believes age is a mind-set,” Osric explains. “Her efforts to remain eternally youthful and evade death include a childlike sense of optimism for what’s to come. Despite her many years, she has not allowed herself to become jaded.”
As someone else who is not yet done living, Muriel’s approach to life speaks to me. But what is the cost of evading death? Muriel relies on other people’s desperation to feed herself more years. Osric has done something similar, in that he must always keep a supply of charm apples for his consumption. Both of them refuse to give in to time and aging, while it has always been my fondest dream to live long enough to grow old.
A vast glow off in the distance radiates up from the seafloor. Osric doubles his speed, and I keep up, savoring the quickening of my pulse and rush of cold water over my gills. He verges away from the highway to a narrower path of lights and motions for us to slow. The road extends close to the rocky seafloor. He swims to a dip in the road, and Laverick and I join him, stopping for our first glimpse of Everblue.
Roads pour into and around the underwater city like rivers of azure. The kingdom itself is similar to those on land, enough so that it could have been sunk by an earthquake and flooded by the sea. All the roofs, balconies, arches, and bridges are uniquely curved. Even the walls have a roundness to them, as though the builders and architects took their inspiration from the curl of a wave. The result is a flowing gentleness from one structure to the next.
Much like musical notes progressing up ledger lines, the height of the castle builds until the apex at the middle. Spiraling stairways, lofty arches, and swirling spires bridge the domed central structure and its cylindrical towers.
At a distance, the shape of the curved exterior walls and turrets appears to form an octopus, the main tower representing the animal’s head and the smaller towers situated around it in the fashion of long arms. Each gaping window and doorway, high or low, glows a haunting blue. Two large doorways have the ominous appearance of eyes.
Into the Hourglass Page 20
