by Anne Stryker
Before he could retreat, she caught his hand. Wide eyes locked on hers when his head whipped around, and she jolted back, fingers curling against her chest. “Sorry. W-why can’t you tell me now though? I may not understand much about this world, but I’m open to any possibility. Am I connected to the merfolk somehow? A distant relative? Or maybe I was, for some reason, adopted?” She hoped for the latter, to be the only one who was special in a family where she didn’t belong. Even if her features matched her mother’s closely, it was nice to dream.
“You might not believe me. Or want to.”
She clenched her fist. “But at least I’d know. Not knowing is always worse.”
“Not always.” His lips pursed, his whole body tightening like a warrior preparing for battle. Or a captured spy refusing to relent information. Then, all tension faded. A brilliant smile bared his pointed teeth. “Very well. You’re a long-lost princess betrothed to Ocea’s king.”
Hope shattering, her shoulders slumped, and she looked away. “Funny.”
“In due time, wai lily. I promise.” His gentle eyes remained on her until she looked up, then he cupped her chin. “In the meantime, don’t pout. It’s unbecoming for a princess.”
When he turned his back, she rolled her eyes and smiled despite herself as she lay back down on the hard ground. Picking up her shell from where she had dropped it during the conversation, she settled it against her stomach and sighed. If she were bolder—like Ashlyn or Acacia—she would demand answers, but she wasn’t. Kind words easily swayed her. And being called a princess? Long-awaited. Loved. It was nothing short of a fairy tale dream she would have made up as a child.
Back before she understood the world, back when anything was possible, back when nothing was as it seemed.
Chapter Sixteen
Choice
Dark shadows teased the corners of Asaria’s vision, curling at the edges like wisps of smoke. She inhaled through the thick water, then peered down. Two legs and her one-piece bathing suit.
Shock widened her eyes, and she held her breath before thrashing forward in an attempt to break surface. Her board’s leash held her leg firmly to the bottom of an ocean floor she couldn’t quite make out.
“Now, there’s no need for that . . .” a rumbling voice muted by the water in her ears coiled in the places she couldn’t see, like a cobra bracing to strike. “I assure you, dear girl, you can breathe well enough—physically, at least.”
Asaria turned her head. A grey form slithered around her, into view, bright teeth shining through the murky depths in an unnatural grin. “Wyre. How are you here?” Her eyes ran over the scene once more. “Wherever ‘here’ is.”
“Worry not. I’m not here. Neither are you.” Wyre sighed, head shaking. “You’ve never been good at deciphering what is or isn’t a dream. Poor thing. Shows a level of intelligence when you can.”
Asaria’s fists clenched. “If this is a dream and I can’t normally tell, how come you, a figment of my imagination, can?”
In a single stroke of tentacles, Wyre swam uncomfortably close. “Because, even in your dreams, you’re inferior.”
Frowning, Asaria exhaled. “If this is a dream, everything you’re saying, everything here, is all in my head.”
Wyre’s dry laugh bubbled into the water, and he leaned back as though he were reclining in an easy chair. “Is there any wonder why it’s such a mess?” In response to his snideness, she thrashed again. His eyes rolled. “Don’t bother, dear. Your dream or not, you have no control here.”
Weight settled against her chest, holding tight like sludge. She pounded her fists against the thickening water. “Why not?”
“Well, why would you? You have no control over anything else in your life. Doomed to be at the mercy of the tide and your internal villains.” A lightness sparked in his gaze that sliced through the water, winking in Asaria’s eyes like sun against glass. “Ah, that must be why I’m here. A representation of those internal villains. How quaint your mind is.”
Asaria flinched. “Once I’m back home, I’ll make my own decisions.”
“Oh, really? You’ll stand up to your family because of—what?—a little adventure in the sea?” Wyre curled a hand beneath his chin, a slow smirk spreading as surety reflected in his eyes. “They’re probably glad you’re gone. They’ll figure out quickly that whoever Acacia marries can be taught to run the company while she follows her dreams. In the end, she’ll get everything whether you return or not.”
Sludge slid down Asaria’s throat and weighted her closer to the ocean floor. “All the better,” she choked. “They won’t need me, and I can easily begin following my own path.”
“Which is . . . ? Surfing? You aren’t nearly good enough to make that a substantial career.” Before she could open her mouth, he tutted, waggling a finger in the ever-thickening water. “Without your family, how will you afford college for a marine biology major? You really aren’t getting any younger.”
The sludge rose, filling her chest until she had to fight for breath. “I’ll figure something out. Everyone does.”
“But can you?” Smug, Wyre let his gaze drift off her. “I mean, some days you can barely function at your desk job. Ambition is not a practical or appealing color on you, my dear.”
Breaths growing short, Asaria fought tears. “I have a secret. A secret no one else has.”
“Well, no one that you know of, to start. And, in case you’ve forgotten, your little journey’s purpose is to remove the only thing that lets you survive in Ocea. All Yuval’s kind words about letting you be a part of this secret afterwards are lies. They simply have to be. Lies to appease you until he can get rid of you, like everyone else.”
Chest tightening, pinching, and writhing, Asaria grasped water in a futile attempt to reach air. Wyre closed in, tentacles swarming around her, more than possible.
“Lies to appease you so he isn’t another victim of your complaints and whining.” A slimy appendage curled around her throat. “Nothing but lies.”
↜❀↝
Asaria gasped awake, panting when her eyes locked on the quiet world. A dark patch floated over her, and she looked up at the lazy island when it passed. Sure enough, it had been a dream.
So why was she shaking?
Glancing at Yuval’s sleeping form, she forced deep breaths and bent her tail tight against her chest, clamping her arms around it. Every thought she’d run from or ignored since entering Ocea now lingered on the surface of her mind like algae on a lake.
Without a tail, she wouldn’t be able to breathe here or see Yuval for long. Without legs, she couldn’t surf or see her friends again.
The real world didn’t come with happy endings or convenient loopholes; she couldn’t have everything. When they reached the end of their journey, she would have to leave all this behind and return to the world she was familiar with, the world that seemed intent on breaking her.
“Are you all right?” Yuval’s soft voice touched the corners of her thoughts.
Uncurling, she glanced at him. “Stop asking me that.”
His brows rose. “I’m sorry, but you—”
“I’m fine.” She looked at the ground and released a breath. “I’m fine.”
A long moment passed between them, another island skimming the surface above. “Did it work?” he asked at last.
She blinked and fought down a swallow. “What?”
“Convincing yourself.”
Asaria looked at him, and his eyes widened before he glanced away, acting as if he hadn’t spoken. “I am fine,” she whispered to his pale profile.
“Only being fine is never reassuring.” He continued staring away, arms folded like they normally were, but when his gaze drifted back to her, head unmoved, it locked her in place. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Asaria shook her head and snatched her shell, clutching it till her knuckles went white. “I want to continue. Maybe if we run into something dangerous, I can clear my head.”
“Wai lily . . .” His words faded with a sigh. Fluidly, he lifted off the ground and floated toward her, taking her clenched hands in his. He pulled her from the floor and smiled. “I can understand that. Whenever I couldn’t think straight, I would spar. The thrill of a battle, of reminding yourself you can fight, can do a lot of good, but it also trains your mind to seek a violent solution when problems arise.”
Asaria looked at his hands cupped around hers and relinquished her hold on the shell with a frown. “I’m not a violent person.”
“I know.” He lifted her blade and turned it so she could see the glimmer of light glint across its multicolored surface. “Your weapon hasn’t been stained with anything but plants, after all, but that could change if you’re looking for danger.”
Asaria shrank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Yuval cupped her chin and forced her gaze on him. “I know.” His smile calmed her, and an ease spread across her skin. Apology forgotten, she smiled too. He laid her shell back against her palm. “Take a deep breath, close your eyes, let it out slowly.”
“You sound like a therapist,” she murmured, but did as he said, imagining all the sludge in her dream leaving on her exhale.
“What’s a therapist?”
The genuine confusion in his tone made her chuckle. “A very special person who helps people by taking other’s problems, analyzing them, and assisting in rationalizing solutions.”
“I’m not nearly that cool.”
Laughing, she opened her eyes. “And yet you always seem willing to help. Thank you.” Even if everything was a lie, it still took effort and thought—neither of which he had to provide. Even if she could never return to Ocea after breaking the curse, this time—right now—made her stronger. She would always be a part of the secret no matter how many knew of it.
Yuval winked, letting his hands drop from hers. “All I did was tell you to blink and breathe.”
“Isn’t it strange how we occasionally need a reminder?”
His eyes twinkled. “Baffling. Are you ready?”
Asaria turned to look at the long path toward the distant mountain. The end was in sight, yet she wouldn’t think of it as an end. It marked the beginning of their return. And their return marked the beginning of her new life. A seed of fear settled in her stomach, sending a waver through her heart, but she took another deep breath and let it go. “I’m ready,” she whispered, more to herself than to Yuval. The seeds of fear and anxiety and pain may always be within her, but she chose whether or not she’d let them grow. She had a choice. She’d always had a choice.
It was about time she started acting like it.
Chapter Seventeen
Red
Lingering touches. Heated glances. Shy smiles. Asaria had to be imagining things, or twisting them into what she secretly wished they were. The past four days with Yuval had been quiet, for the most part, when it came to the warm world around them, but daily they talked more about everything. Life as a guard. Life as a receptionist. Life in general.
Ocea fascinated her, and he appeared fascinated by her world as well.
“Does Beyond have two moons?” she blurted the thought when it came.
He laughed, wide eyes locking on her, no judgement in their depths. “What?”
“Fantasy worlds. They always have two moons or something—and the lore. The moons will be goddesses, each vying for the love of the sun, and there would be elves aligned to each in a heated battle for their deity.”
“Then a forbidden love will arise and end in tragedy?”
Asaria didn’t hide her grin. “Ah, so you’ve read the same book.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint. Only one moon and one sun here. Most of our lore stems from Beyond’s first children.” Always watchful even in the quiet, Yuval’s gaze skimmed the world around them before returning to her.
Beyond’s first children. She had heard about them in their conversations. The guardians of the world, each had been given a realm to rule and a time to wait in preparation. Before they knew of each other and before Beyond’s other children came from flowers or drops of light, the guardians had wandered their land in silence. Alone.
“Do you know Ocea’s guardian?” she asked, thumbs running over her shell weapon—which she kept at the ready just in case; it provided her a sense of security and a sense of strength.
Yuval did another sweep of the volcanic plain and the fast-approaching mountain, but this time his eyes didn’t return to her. “I know the Guardian of the Forest. He’s . . . fun?”
Asaria chuckled. “You don’t sound sure.”
“Well . . . he’s loud.” Yuval breathed a laugh. “Kind of big and attention-demanding. He’s very close with his people though. He walks among them without so much as a batted eye.”
“And in Ocea your guardian is the king, so that’s not the case?”
“Rhyeos of Silvan is king there. Things are just different here. In every place. Some rule with more distance; others with fear even.” Yuval rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “I told you some about the times before, when the first children walked the world alone. That time affected each differently. A scar of loneliness is never cut in the same way. Some braved it; some merely longed for more or for family; but others twisted until, in my opinion, they fell from the original design.”
A shiver wracked Asaria’s body when she exhaled. “That’s unsettling.”
“Others disagree with me. Rhyeos, for one. He’s managed friendships with all the surrounding guardians. Arguably, little affects him.” Yuval rolled his eyes, a gentle smile returning to his lips when he stopped at the base of the mountain. “We should be able to enter the caverns today and reach the bottom tomorrow.”
“So this is the beginning of the end?” She focused on the hanging roots of an island when its shadow darkened the world. The spindly roots skimmed across the mountain’s jagged edges, waving free moments later and rocking like pendulums.
“Now who’s being unsettling?” His pointed teeth flashed in a smile as he held out a webbed hand. “Shall we?”
Heart skipping, Asaria shifted her shell to her left hand and slipped her fingers against his. He closed his hand around hers and kicked off the ground, beginning their ascent.
Steadily, the temperature rose, clouding around Asaria. Heated water entered her with every inhale, the oxygen burning through her lungs.
“Are you doing okay?” Yuval asked about halfway to the top.
Breathing through her mouth, she nodded. “I think so. How about you?”
His back muscles flexed with his shrug. “Managing well enough. Let me know if you need a break.”
“Okay. You too.”
He looked down at her with laughing eyes.
A dreamlike haze covered Asaria by the time they had nearly reached the summit. Focusing on Yuval’s hand in hers, she flicked her tail and trusted him to guide her—or drag her—where they needed to go.
Darkness fell upon them, and Asaria squinted through it, hope of shade the first thought in her mind. Disappointed when no coolness accompanied the shadows, she peered at Yuval, who had gone still.
Grey tubes wobbled in the roots that sprayed over the mountain in an island’s passing. Blinking through the haze, Asaria startled when focus greeted her through the heat. Brown roots drifted lightly, innocently, but among them long, grey fingers stretched, a single red eye at each tip. They all blinked in unison, as if part of the same creature.
Before Asaria and Yuval could maneuver, the roots and creatures surrounded them. Yuval yanked her arm, pulling her close and pressing her against his chest. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Don’t speak.”
Tension melded with heat, pressing against her mind. Her lips parted to ask why, but Yuval’s hand clamped her mouth shut.
Hissing, a voice addressed him, and the island froze above their heads, keeping them in a web of pale fingers and red eyes. “You have entered our domain, a domain
of the firsts.”
“I seek passage.”
“Only one has ever seen what lies in the belly of this land. The heart of Ocea.” The fingers drew closer, licking at Asaria’s skin, and she clung to Yuval, praying he knew what to do.
He squeezed her, webbed fingers holding her head and brushing through her hair. “I claim his name.”
Laughter rippled in the heated water. “You? You lie. We smell nothing but secrets and lies.”
A slimy finger touched Asaria’s fins, and she whimpered.
Each grey appendage went ridgid. “A girl? A human girl?” Whispers clouded Asaria’s mind, and she trembled. “What—” the creature boomed “—is a human girl doing here?”
Yuval’s fist clamped against her back, then the hand at her head drifted down along her skin, finding its way to her hand and her shell. His fingers locked around the weapon, and a swallow passed through his throat. “We seek passage.”
More rippling laughter. “Two cannot claim his name. Return now with your lives.”
Before the creature had retreated enough to allow them to return to the ocean floor, Yuval lunged toward the mountain, her shell slicing a path.
Screams rent the water as blood spread in their wake. Faster than Asaria could see, a finger snatched Yuval’s hand and squeezed until his pointed teeth bared. The shell dropped, carving a line down.
The fingers yanked on her tail, and she choked back a yell when they ripped her from Yuval’s side.
“You dare fight us, mortal!” The booming voice echoed louder, rumbling in Asaria’s head. Fingers coiled around both of them, holding tight like snakes and drawing them higher into the roots.
Asaria peered up, and a wash of cold stole the color in her cheeks. Dozens of mouths made up a parasite that clung to the bottom of the island. Each finger wound down from it, around roots, and then around them.
Shaking, Asaria met Yuval’s gaze.
“Test me!” he yelled.
The mouths laughed, but their ascension paused. “Test a liar? No. We shall test her.”
