by Anne Stryker
Her chest revolted against her refusal to inhale, and she sucked in a breath, realizing she’d let him drag her the last several yards. Flicking her tail, a hundred fears funneling through her mind, Asaria swallowed and hoped the moment would go away if she ignored it.
Eyes flicking down to their joined hands, she let out the deep breath and pulled her fingers free, reaching to push her hair out of her eyes as she did.
A moment was all it took.
“What are—” Yuval’s accented words vanished in a sudden gust.
Frigid water shoved against her stomach, stealing her breath and throwing her through the seaweed leaves. The plants whipped her skin, leaving red welts against her arms as she covered her head. Then it all stopped.
She tumbled through clear water, daring to squint.
Ice wrapped around her. Frozen in place, she stared out at the vast blue expanse speckled with dark grey monsters that grew to nearly ten times her size the closer they were. One passed, its flat body rippling in utter silence, dead eyes open, unseeing, just above giant teeth. Blue lights danced at the ends of spindling cords, all flickering as far as she could see.
Her breaths stopped leaving.
Short gasps filled her lungs. Then more followed. Each tiny breath packed tight until her chest burned and her eyes stung and her body shook.
An ice fish slid in front of her, its profile little more than teeth that poured out of its mouth in an underbite. A coal eye the size of her head came next, the unfocused pupil motionless.
Until it wasn’t.
And it looked directly at her.
A cry caught in her throat. Her lungs choked from air. Then pain rammed into her side.
Yuval’s arms wrapped around her, his body propelling them away from the ice fish who had seen her. An echoing snap hammered in her head when the monster’s maws clamped together where she had been.
All around, the dark creatures paused, seemed to blink, and focused on her and Yuval. He mumbled a curse against her hair, his webbed hand cupping the back of her head. The ocean writhed with movement. Rippling masses of flesh tore into one another, intent on being the first to reach the retreating merfolk.
Asaria’s gasping breaths were all that filled her head once the noises of teeth in flesh consumed the world around her. She squeezed her eyes shut, but that only heightened her panic, so she opened them again and stared over Yuval’s shoulder at the ensuing battle.
He plunged against the seaweed with her, but the same current that had caught her before continued strong, forcing them back out of the foliage. Clamping a hand against a rough coral branch, he locked his legs under another to hold her tight in the dark plants.
Pressure pushed against her back, plastering her body against his chest, but all she could focus on were the blossoms of red unfolding in the water above. Soft murmurs buzzed against her ear, Yuval’s fingers moving in slow rhythm against her head. He kept his dark-toned back toward the monsters, hiding her bright hair and light shades beneath him so the monsters would be less likely to spot their prey.
The current passed. He tucked her tight, then dove back into the shelter of the coral.
Once they hit the ground, she coughed, still shaking from fear and cold.
“Exhale, wai lily,” he murmured, again and again, until she let everything out.
Short breaths followed, and she closed her burning eyes. Wrapping herself in a hug, she tried to stop shaking. Both inhale and exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She repeated the words until they blended together.
He rocked her. “Shh, you’re okay. It’s okay.” His chest heaved while he knelt beside her in the brush, seagrass waving around his legs.
Cracking rent the air, and his head whipped to look behind them. A curse left his lips, so thickly accented she couldn’t understand what he’d said; only the tone was evident. He snatched her hand and yanked her off the ground. “They smell my blood,” he murmured, not allowing time for the statement to register before he was weaving through trees, dragging her with him.
Trees behind them snapped, an ice fish gnashing against the coral and thrashing in the sand as it fought to follow them. Asaria forced herself to count. To breathe. To not focus on the violent noises behind her or the gooey sensation against Yuval’s palm. Had clinging to the coral cut his hand?
Oh god.
What had she done?
Heart pounding, she breathed through her mouth and worked her fins so she wouldn’t be dead weight for Yuval to tow.
When at last he slowed to a stop, they had ducked into a narrow tunnel. The sun had vanished, its light replaced with the bioluminescence of green foliage that clung to the walls of the cavern.
He released her hand to look at his and rub away any remaining blood; however, no clouds of red wisped out into the water like it had for the ice fish.
Shaking, she whispered, “It’s not red . . . ?”
Yuval’s eyes glinted in the green glow when he looked up. She cowered under his stare, flicking her gaze away, but he replied, “No. Clear, actually. They shouldn’t be able to reach us in here.” His injured hand met her cheek but felt already healed as he cupped her face. “Are you all right?”
Sincere concern permeating his expression, his gaze flicked between both her averted eyes. Continuing to count in her head, she managed to keep her breaths steady. “I’m so sorry.”
“That was my fault.” He swallowed, closing his eyes. “I didn’t mean . . . I hadn’t intended . . .” His exhale poured over her lips. “You aren’t hurt?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Good.” His thumb caressed her skin, then pulled away as he put distance between them. “I’m so sorry I’ve put you in so much danger.” He folded his arms, gripping his bicep.
“But you saved me. I was the one who—”
“No.” The stern word made her stop. His darkened blue gaze locked on her. “My incompetence has nearly led to your death thrice.” Shock made her lips part, but he shook his head. “Let’s rest here for now.” He turned his back to her, almost disappearing in the dim light, only his silhouette apparent. His head dropped forward, then turned slightly so she could see the barest glimpse of his profile. “I’m so sorry, Asaria. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Chapter Nine
Fault
Yuval kept close, his once-kind features now stern as he scanned their dim surroundings. Just over a day had passed since their close encounter with the ice fish, and Asaria was barely holding herself together.
The narrow paths weren’t helping. Every turn they took led to more tunnels, and every tunnel seemed just as long as the last. If they were lost, she didn’t want to voice her doubts. She had caused enough trouble just by being there.
Asaria inhaled, closing her eyes against the colorful world. The glowing plants had taken on a variation of hues the deeper they came. The rainbow engraved itself in her mind, doing little to calm her about what could still hide in the dark patches that skirted the edges.
They passed into an open chamber where stalagmites and stalactites lined the left side of the path, all over grown and aglow in neon pinks and blues. The right side dropped into a pit of darkness.
Chills careened down Asaria’s spine though she knew it would be easy to swim out of the hole. Something about the pure obsidian surrounded by so many glowing plants didn’t sit well with her. Why hadn’t they spread down there? What stopped them?
Yuval paused in front of her and reached for a plant that wasn’t glowing. Vines coiled around the stalactite, long purple tubes growing in bunches. He plucked a bunch and turned to her. “Moon drops. This is the only place they grow in all of Beyond, and very few know they exist.”
Asaria took the offered bunch and plucked a tube to examine it. “Are they good?”
Yuval’s eyes skittered over her, as though he’d not actually looked, and he turned to continue down the path. “I don’t really remember.”
Her heart constricted, then fe
ll. Maybe all the way to the bottom of the pit on her right. Her mistake two days ago had stolen the gentle smiles and soft humor in his eyes. Was she just an inconvenience now?
Looking down, she rolled the tube between two fingers. “Moon drop is an unusual name if this is the only place they grow. The moon can’t reach here . . . after all.”
He plucked a single tube from a vine beside him, chewed, and swallowed, the gills on his neck opening and closing with the action. “I’ve never thought about it before. They don’t relate to or resemble the moon at all.”
The even tone of his voice made her shrink as she popped the fruit into her mouth. Sweet juices hit her tongue when she bit down, but they did nothing to push aside her guilt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Yuval stopped, his eyes wide as the slightest bit of emotion flecked through his gaze. “For what?”
“It feels like I’ve done something wrong.” Her shoulders bunched, and she kept her gaze on the fruit as she plucked another tube and bit it in half.
“Wai lily . . . you haven’t.” He kicked the water, gliding closer and settling his hands at her elbows. “I’m sorry if I’ve been distant. I just can’t let my actions put you in the place you were before. Physically or mentally. You fell in on yourself, and I can’t watch it happen again.” His eyes skimmed down her body, taking in her tail. “I’m going to break this curse and get you back to safety. I promise.”
Her eyes ran along her scales to her fins. She’d grown unnaturally comfortable with her tail over the past week. All she missed of her legs and her life was surfing. Flying through water couldn’t quite compare to the rush of wind and the thrill of riding a wave, even if it came close. Was it selfish to wish she could have it all?
The magic. The calm. The escape.
And surfing.
Asaria looked back up when Yuval’s hands moved away from her arms. His dark back turned to her. “We should continue so we can find somewhere safer to rest before we get tired.”
She glanced at the pit, then flipped her tail to follow him. “How much longer until we’re out of this maze?”
“Hopefully two days.”
She ate another moon drop. “Hopefully?”
Yuval spared her a glance and a smile. “Who knows? Maybe I took a wrong turn back there.”
Shaking her head, Asaria swam beside him and let out a sigh. “Welcome back, Yuval.”
He picked a tube from her bunch and popped it in his mouth, sharp teeth flashing briefly in the bioluminescent glow. “Sorry to have left.” When she smiled at him, his returning grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least she no longer felt at fault.
However, with no one else around, who could be at fault?
Other than himself.
Chapter Ten
Water
“We’re going to be late,” Ashlyn groaned, rolling her eyes as she tapped her foot. Asaria ran a brush through her short, faded hair and hesitated in the mirror. She rarely wore makeup—it did poorly on the waves—so did she look all right?
“Asaria!” Ashlyn snapped, frowning in the doorway. Her eyes flicked over Asaria, then her petite nose crinkled. “You can’t just invite us to one of your family’s events then be the reason we show up late.”
Event was a loose term. It was a celebration in honor of Acacia’s graduation. She had hoped Ashlyn and Emilia would be the backup she needed to survive, but so far they had only heightened her stress.
Giving up on fixing herself, Asaria followed Ashlyn into the main room where Emilia sat against the couch. Her brown gaze turned, and a smile quirked her lips. “Finally ready, Asa?”
“Sorry,” Asaria mumbled, flinching at the use of her nickname. “I’m not really in any hurry.”
“And yet we only want to be fashionably late, not miss the party entirely. Who’s driving?” Ashlyn glanced between them.
Emilia wiggled her fingers. “I got my nails done, so I’d rather not use my hands today.”
Ashlyn’s green eyes focused on Asaria.
“I-I’m not sure that—”
“I’m trying to save money on gas,” Ashlyn stated before Asaria could finish.
Her heart thudded; the very thought of getting behind the wheel with her nerves on such high alert forced her to begin counting her breaths. “Okay.” Ten, nine, eight. “I’ll drive.”
The thirty-minute trip to her family’s manor took longer than she’d anticipated, with every left turn on the winding back roads tightening the cord of tension already around her throat. Waiting until no cars were in sight only made her friends grumble, but what more could she do?
When she’d finally parked before the three-story mansion in the wide, cobblestone driveway, she had to pry her own hands off the wheel and stretch her fingers to alleviate the ache her death grip had left behind. Without waiting for her to take deep breaths, both Ashlyn and Emilia had jumped out of the car.
Emilia waved for her to come on, but she needed air. Just a moment of it. Maybe more. How could she face her parents and her sister? Why did she have to?
Even sitting there, half an hour from her beach house, the waves called her to return, to surrender. Nothing would have made her happier.
Right as she worked up the courage to step outside, her phone beeped in the center console, making her heart jump. Asaria picked it up and looked at the email. Work. Why now of all times? She closed her eyes, biting back tears and welling panic. Seven, six, five. She opened the message.
Asaria, there’s been an error with some of your files. We needed them finished by Monday, so you’ll have to come in tomorrow to correct it.
The bright screen burned her eyes as she stared blankly. How? She always checked everything at least twice. Sometimes three times on her bad days or in her bad moments. Days like today. Moments like now.
If she had to work tomorrow, she couldn’t escape to her surfboard.
Leaning her head back against the seat, she stared at the ceiling and hoped her tears wouldn’t run through her shoddy mascara job. Maybe they’d actually make her look better, but likely not.
She didn’t want to go inside. If she could fade away before she had to, she would welcome the void.
But her friends were waiting for her.
She looked out the windshield at all the guests still filing in, but her friends had already left. A swallow caught in her throat. She’d have to go in alone, then. Gripping her hands on her lap, she forced herself to inhale and exhale in rhythm. Demanded her body to stop shaking.
All she needed to do was function for an hour or so, then maybe she could sneak into a corner, stick by the refreshments, or return to the car until Ashlyn and Emilia were ready to leave.
Keeping her end goal in mind, Asaria slid out of her seat and entered.
Noise attacked her from all sides, leeching whatever energy she clung to out of her pores. Shaking breaths filled her lungs. Her eyes located the dining area across the foyer and living room. A buzz surrounded the food tables, but if she could at least get a glass of water . . .
“Honey! I’m so glad you decided to make it!” Her mother’s cheerful voice shattered her plans, and she braced when the shorter woman wrapped her in a hug. Blue eyes, so like her own but not empty, twinkled when her mother pulled back. “I thought you weren’t coming because I always taught you to be punctual.”
Yet the woman had been late to Asaria’s graduation. “Sorry,” she whispered, no further excuse to think of.
Asaria’s mother held her at arm’s length and took in her simple sundress and makeup. Lips pursing, a level of disappointment entered the woman’s expression, but she was considerate enough not to voice the reasoning behind the change.
The expression alone caused Asaria to crumble a little more inside. What had she done wrong this time?
What hadn’t she?
Asaria gripped her hands before her and tried not to tangle them in her dress. She would be okay. She had to be. And maybe one day she’d figure out the algorithm of her o
wn mind and put all the pieces back together.
“I believe your father is with Acacia right now, but he wanted to talk about the business with you.” Her mother’s hand curled around her arm, and Asaria inhaled, holding the breath. “Acacia graduates next Sunday, so this is your last week in the beach house. Your father and I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the penthouse in the city. We’ll be staying with you until you’ve settled into your position, but we didn’t buy this retirement home for nothing!”
Asaria’s mind swirled. She’d grown up in that penthouse, yet just the thought of it made her heart thunder in her chest. The bleached whites against the charcoal blacks. Like charcoal, it all had left a stain on her that she had been fighting to remove since she’d left for college.
If she didn’t follow her parents’ wishes, if she took her things and moved into her own life, she’d lose them forever. After everything they’d done to break her down, that still scared her. Why did everything scare her?
Her mother dragged her into the main room, into the press of bodies, and Asaria attempted to keep her head from spinning as the heat overwhelmed her. Her parents always kept their homes ice-cold, so was she imagining the confining heat? She wished she were imagining everything.
Applause erupted around the room, and Asaria looked up at the gold-trimmed staircase. Her father stood beside Acacia, a wide smile and light on his face. He held her sister’s arm in his as though he were escorting a princess, and Acacia did look just like a princess. The emerald green of her dress accentuated her curves and contrasted against her pale skin. Her heart-shaped face was round with a smile that gentled while she took in her subjects.
Her eyes locked on Asaria, and that smile trembled a moment into disgust before returning to regality. Asaria doubted anyone had noticed, but what if everyone had? What if everyone knew how ashamed Acacia was to be related to her?
Asaria closed her eyes, tears pricking behind her lashes. If only it could all go away.
Her eyes fluttered open, but the same scene presented itself. Acacia traveled through the crowd of her subjects, graciously accepting congratulations from each and repeated praises from their father. Her curled brown hair bobbed with her laughter.
