by Anne Stryker
She poked her head down in front of him, hanging upside down, and excitement shone in her eyes. “This is incredible.”
“Is it?” His soft voice held hints of humor, and she slipped down to glide beside his even pace.
“It’s how I imagine flying feels but safer.” She hadn’t felt so at peace since she was a child, back before she truly understood how unfair the world could be even to those it blessed with wealth. Some cheer filtered away with the whisper in the back of her head. Would she always be stuck in this place of guilt, consumed by darkened thoughts despite her good fortune? So many had it worse, yet she couldn’t escape the unwanted feelings that tangled around her.
Webbed fingers touched her back, sending shivers straight through the thin gauze of her top. Stopping in place, she looked up, and her eyes focused on Yuval. “Did I lose you for a moment there?” he asked. Asaria couldn’t get over the color or depth of his eyes. It felt as though she’d fallen into them, giving him the power to see through her.
“Sor—” She swallowed, averting her gaze. “Thank you for pulling me back.”
He blinked, his hand returning to his side. “You’re welcome?”
Forcing an awkward laugh, she ran her fingers back through her hair and began forward again to put a bit of distance between them. “It sounds so proper, doesn’t it? My friends are trying to get me to say ‘thank you’ and stop apologizing so much, but whenever I mess up, I feel stupid or . . . not genuine. It’s positive speech practice to improve my mentality.”
Yuval remained quiet as he walked beside her, and she feared she had said too much, but then he looked up at the gently waving overhang. “If it makes you feel stupid, is it really positive? Shouldn’t they try to focus more on being people you don’t feel you have to apologize to unless it is the appropriate thing to do? People you feel safe enough around to know you don’t have to apologize for everything?”
Asaria’s eyes widened. Her lips parted and closed. A crab skittered across the path in front of them. “They’re just trying to help,” she managed at last.
“I didn’t mean—” His head whipped to face her, hair following the action. Embarrassment melted into a laugh. “Now I’m sorry. I’m sure they are trying to help, but if it makes you feel worse than an unnecessary apology being accepted so you feel reassured, maybe mention it. Work toward this ‘positive speech mentality’ in a way that doesn’t make you feel negative.”
More invisible weight lifted off her shoulders. Whether it settled at the bottom of the ocean or flew into the sky, she didn’t know, but it was gone. Every passing moment seemed the slightest bit brighter than the last.
“I can’t imagine you as a guard.”
Yuval’s eyes widened into near perfect circles. “You . . . can’t?”
“You don’t seem capable of hurting a fly. For a near perfect stranger, you’ve let me open up about something I can’t even work up the courage to tell my two best friends.” Asaria watched another crab peak out of a hole in some underbrush along the path. It’s beady eyes moved while she did, as though it watched her back. “I was a little nervous this morning about this expedition just being us, but I’m glad I’ll be able to get to know you better. Maybe once this curse is broken, you can visit? I could show you how my buoy is supposed to work.”
His smile saddened, but he said, “I’d like that.” Before she could get another word in, he turned his attention to the coral trees and lifted off the ground. In a single fluid motion, he had secured two green fruits from among the seaweed and returned to her, landing effortlessly. “As promised, breakfast.”
Smiling, she took the soft fruit in her hands. “Thank you.”
His kind gaze lingered on her smile before he turned away. “You are quite welcome, wai lily.”
↜❀↝
“Stay close,” Yuval murmured. Hours had passed since they’d snuck out of town and entered the forest, but only now did the underbrush overtake the sandy path. The still silence in the water wrapped around Asaria, and her eyes shifted toward the thickening foliage.
“Where are we?” she whispered. Seora had mentioned they would encounter dangers, but light still trickled through the seaweed overhang, shining before them in soft rays.
“Mori.” The word darkened the air, and the rays of dappled light dimmed, as though somewhere high above a cloud shadowed the sun. If Beyond had a sun. Yuval continued, “Up until this point, merfolk frequented and guards patrolled. Now we’re entering the sacred lands.”
Asaria’s eyes widened as she slipped around a tree and tried to avoid touching the waving plants that only seemed to get longer the deeper they went. “What does that mean?”
“Long ago . . .” Yuval swallowed and pressed his lips into a firm line. “Long ago, and all over Beyond, guardians were given life so they could in turn protect the life that would later blossom in their domain. The places where each guardian came to be are sacredly protected by Beyond due to the power that lingers there. We’ve just entered a circle of protection.”
Asaria rubbed her arms. “And that means?”
“We could encounter trouble from now on.” His gaze flicked toward her, and his posture eased. “Just stay close, and I promise everything will be fine.”
Obedient, Asaria stayed at his side, breathing relief when the delicate rays of light returned to their original brightness. Holding out a hand, she cupped one in her palm when she passed. “Are you somehow following Seora’s magic map, or have you been there before?” she asked.
“I was there once. A while ago.” He kept his gaze fixed on the water before them. “I hardly remember it now.”
“So we can’t know what to expect?” Unease settled in her gut, right where her flesh met fins, but she continued breathing through it, determined to focus on the light feeling of swimming, the caressing calm of the water.
Yuval smiled. “Aren’t surprises more exciting?”
“Not if they end in untimely death.”
He laughed, and her brows rose, so he waved a hand. “Everything will be fine. Probably.”
“You aren’t funny.” Huffing, she chewed her lip and watched the corners of her vision for any shadows. Nothing appeared out of place, but what about when the sun set? She assumed there was a sun and it did set, if the lights in the roots above the town proved anything. What were they? Magic? How did magic work? Since Yuval could use it, were there spells that could protect them from whatever they came across?
“Wai lily?” His murmur dragged her out of her thoughts. “Did I lose you?”
She blinked. “Sorry. Do you have battle magic?”
“Battle magic?” Humor glimmered in his eyes as a ray of light crossed his face. “I suppose I’m capable of battling with magic. Is that reassuring?”
“Yes.”
His head tilted. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t want you to accidentally float away into the maws of a monster.”
A shiver prickled down her spine. “Suggesting that as a possibility doesn’t calm my nerves.”
His eyes laughed above a kind smile, and somehow she didn’t feel like it was at her expense. “Sorry. Remember you have that necklace if we manage to get separated. And avoid any blue lights.”
She halted, a hand on the shell at her neck. “What? Why?”
“If memory serves, they are usually attached to giant maws.”
Shaking her head, she flicked her tail and continued forward. “Are you teasing me?”
Winking, he grinned. “Not completely.”
Chapter Eight
Frigid
Night crept upon them, dimming the surrounding area to a pale green. Some foliage gleamed like the glow-in-the-dark stars Asaria used to arrange on her floor as a child. They were meant to reach the sky one day, but her father and mother were always too busy with work to help her put them on the ceiling.
She’d kept from doing it alone or asking one of the help for a hand because she hoped, one day, her parents might have that h
our to spare. They always seemed to when it came to Acacia.
Inhaling deeply, Asaria shifted on the sand and curled her tail closer to her body. She wasn’t there right now—she hadn’t been since she’d graduated from business school. Right now she was trying to survive the unimaginable and, at least in some part, enjoy the secret—her secret.
Blue light sparked over her shoulder, and she jolted off the ground, ready to flee giant maws, but none were there. Yuval floated just above the plants, electric blue strips curling around him, lighting the area. His eyes focused in front of him on his fingers while they moved and strips of seaweed threaded in the water.
Ethereal.
The word described what she saw perfectly. His dark hair rose above his unusual ears, the bright light shining through it and casting shadows over his face. He breathed in time with the gradual motions of his hands, and his gaze followed his work.
Assured all was safe, Asaria lowered herself until her tail touched the sand.
The light dimmed, and he smiled, looking at her.
“Was that a protection spell?” she asked.
A brow rose. “Yes. Of course.” He raised his hands, and her gaze dropped to them a moment too slow. His body glided to her effortlessly, and he spread the seaweed blanket around her shoulders. “To keep you safe while you sleep.”
Her heart jumped, heat burning in her cheeks when she met his gaze. Adopting the deep water’s mystical essence, his blue eyes shimmered in the dim green light. Gentle kindness reflected back at her, and she had to force the breath she’d inhaled to leave her lungs slowly as she looked away.
Lingering, he whispered, “I can sleep lightly, so if anything comes near, I’ll know. Rest easy, wai lily.”
Before she could decide whether or not she wanted him to, he moved away. Turning into the dark, his body disappeared until he twisted again to settle against a tree. The surrounding glow ran across his pale chest, just yards from her, and she hoped he couldn’t see her eyes following it. He baffled her. From whatever he was, to magic, to the serenity that left him in waves, she couldn’t figure any piece of him out.
Generally the unknown terrified her—but not with him. He was an adventure she desperately wanted to explore.
Tucking herself into the blanket he’d made, she curled up in the sand again and closed her eyes. However, calm was easier imagined than found in an unfamiliar place where confirmed danger hid, so she focused only on counting her breaths and the lightheadedness that came shortly after.
It lasted long enough to get her through the night, and she awoke when the first rays of sun poured through the overhang. Chirping made her squint through the water, but instead of birds with scales, only a school of passing fish greeted her. Their long back fins moved at unusual intervals, in time with the sounds, and Asaria watched them thread through the coral trees and out of sight before realizing Yuval was also missing.
She turned, heart rate rising, but he wasn’t behind her either. Her hand flew to her necklace, then stopped before touching it. What if he’d left her here on purpose?
Terror froze her to a point she couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t truly be obligated to help a stranger from another world. Maybe this really was sacred ground, and she was an offering to Beyond. A harsh swallow caught in her throat. If she had been abandoned, she had no options. She couldn’t return to the merfolk town or even her own world. She would simply fade away right were she sat.
Without a struggle.
Without anyone.
Her chest pinched, and she opened her mouth to let all the air she’d hoarded out in a puff that sent a large bubble from her lips. Short gasps followed, and she squeezed her eyes shut, pulling the seaweed blanket tight around her.
“Wai lily?” The words ripped her away, and her whole body twisted toward Yuval’s voice. He stood on the edge of the minute clearing, fruits and plants gathered in his arms. Brows lowering, he kicked the water and plowed forward, stopping before her on his knees. He shifted everything in his arms and lifted a hand to her cheek. “Are you crying?”
She snapped back, eyes wide. “What?” How could he tell underwater? She knew people who couldn’t tell from across a room, but he’d known from across the clearing and in the ocean. Pushing back the emotion still caught in her throat, she choked, “Where did you go?”
He lifted his arms. “Breakfast.”
Of course. Heart racing, she closed her eyes, embarrassment eating her away. It sounded like she was accusing him when she had made the mistake. She’d overreacted and panicked all on her own. It had nothing to do with him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Her eyes flashed open on his sheepish smile. “I shouldn’t have left you even for a minute. I thought I could be back before you woke up, but I never thought about how it would seem if I wasn’t.” Webs folding away, he reached forward again and slid his thumb against one cheek, then the other. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Just a little shaken. I’m still getting used to . . . everything.”
He watched her intently, as though he saw through the lie, but he didn’t address it. “We have another long day ahead, so we might as well enjoy a good breakfast.”
“Right.” She took the fruit he held out with a shaking hand and rubbed her thumb against the smooth skin. Her heart still pounded, but she kept a hold on her breaths and pressed the fruit to her lips, biting down, chewing, swallowing.
What was wrong with her?
↜❀↝
Two days passed quietly, Yuval making small talk as they traveled deeper through the woods. Nothing so far had been amiss, but clouds covered the sun more, and every so often an unnatural coolness in the tepid water brushed Asaria’s skin. The deeper they went, the more frequent the shadows and touches came, and one raced down her back, gripping her suddenly.
“Did you feel that?” she asked.
Yuval stopped and turned. “Feel what?”
She rubbed her arms and tried to stay calm, in control. “Maybe it was nothing. Just a cool current.”
Brows lowering, he kept his gaze fixed on her, then extended a hand. “A cool current isn’t nothing. We have less than a day left before we’re out of Mori, which means . . .” He wiggled his fingers, and she looked down at them.
Clearing her throat, she inched forward but didn’t take his hand. “Which means what?”
“We’re deep in a breeding ground.” A shadow slipped over them, and another chill rushed across her skin, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Yuval pointed up. “That’s not a cloud.” He nodded behind her. “And that’s not the sun.”
Slowly, Asaria glanced where he’d motioned and stopped breathing. Blue light streamed from above, the canopy dappling it against sand and brush as it moved. When sunlight showered them again, Asaria slipped her fingers into his hand and gripped.
Yuval continued walking, keeping her at his side. “Ice fish. They can cause severe undertow through the woods when there are too many in an area. They mostly drift during the day and eat at night when other fish are drawn to their lit lures, though.”
“Lit lures?” She glanced behind her, though the one that had passed was long gone. “Like angler fish?”
He glanced up, thoughtful. “I believe . . . so. Flatter than the species you’re familiar with, however, resembling a manta ray.”
A manta ray with giant teeth and an angler lure. The picture wasn’t comforting at all.
“How many are up there?” she asked.
His smile caught her for a moment, and her fins paused, but their linked hands kept her gliding with him. “Do you really want to know?”
She cleared her throat. “No. Probably not.”
“That’s what I thought.” A pause, then a grin. “Besides, the real question is: how many are down here?”
Her back went rigid. Wide-eyed, she clenched his hand. “I don’t like that question.”
“I’m teasing.” He smiled, humor gleaming. “How about a different que
stion then? Why is your hair pink?”
“Why?” She blinked.
“Or how. I’ve seen humans at a distance and I know some about them. Most often, their hair isn’t pink.”
He had mentioned specifically when they’d first met that it wasn’t often he met a human with pink hair. Given the circumstances, she hadn’t thought about how, when he had naturally blue hair, he saw pink as unusual. She ruffled her free hand through the short strands. “Well, I had it dyed. It’s naturally blond, but I was trying to get attention.” The color had faded since the last time she’d had it redone, but originally it had been a distinct shade of bubblegum pink. Like Pepto Bismol. Acacia’s least favorite color.
“Sorry for saying so, but you don’t seem the type to want to stand out.”
She laughed, but something twinged in her chest. “You aren’t wrong, but you also aren’t right. Everyone wants to be seen or heard by someone at least. Maybe everyone needs to be to prove they exist.”
His thumb ran over her knuckles, sending a chill through her on its own. When she looked at his face, he was focused ahead, solemnity in his expression. After a second, he caught her eye, and a soft smile touched his lips. “You’re staring.”
“You’re holding my hand, for no apparent reason.”
“You have a habit of following the currents.”
She frowned, glancing away to avoid acknowledging the heat rising to her tan cheeks. “I’ve stayed close for three days now.”
Exhaling, he murmured, “And yet not close enough.”
Her heart jumped, gaze darting back to him. With the heat of his hand against hers and the soft words lingering in the air, she stopped breathing. What did he mean by that? These past days, he’d never given her a reason to feel uncomfortable, but the tone of that statement had slipped toward suggestive.
Her stomach flipped.
Was she simply overreacting?
Or did he just flirt with her? Alone. In the middle of monster breeding ground. She could barely maneuver around drunk men in clubs with her friends to back her up. What was she supposed to do here?
