by Starla Night
Their voices faded.
Ciran edged above the window, barely moving. The warriors were specks in the distance and their souls faded to tiny flickers. He peered out, twirling slowly—ocean wildlife, ordinary water, no spies left behind to entrap them—and circumnavigated the wreckage. They were alone.
“Good work,” he vibrated at the trainees.
They emerged cautiously from the wreck.
Hadali grinned at Tulu, their souls glowing with accomplishment. “Let's get your friend in the floating thing.”
Dannika hung in the doorway. “Ciran, the elixir.”
He kicked inside. Debris had settled on top of the elixir case. He used the crowbar to free it.
The plane groaned and descended.
“Come on,” Hadali called from the outside. “If the airplane drops, you could get caught in a current that takes you to Lusca.”
Dannika tried to help Ciran and winced. “My belly…”
“We need help,” he told the trainees. “The human on the raft is injured, and she has a dim soul. We do not know how much elixir we will need to cure her.”
The two youths returned. Tulu worked quietly, focused, and Hadali made small, optimistic comments. “Almost there. Almost…Keep pulling…There. Is this what you want?”
The bottles of elixir gleamed.
Ciran freed one bottle. Dannika reached in for another. The more the better.
Shriek.
The plane’s tail separated from its body. Debris shifted like sand covering the case. Dannika jerked her hand back. Debris crushed the second bottle.
One would have to suffice for now.
Dannika frowned at her left hand. The fingers were uninjured, but her soul light fluctuated, darkening to black. She looked around the plane debris.
“Are you hurt?”
She rubbed her barren knuckles. “No…”
“Come,” Tulu urged.
Hadali flew after him into the open water.
“We must go now,” Ciran told her. “Hurry.”
She flicked her fingers and then threw her arms around his neck, holding him tight.
Ah.
“You have done well.” He stroked her trembling back. The dress floated around her body like a fluffy halo. “We are not in immediate danger.”
She nodded against his shoulder and squeezed him tighter.
All right. She must be feeling the after-effects of the encounter. How sad that danger had tainted his bride’s first experience in the water.
Ciran unwrapped her strangling arms and fitted Dannika to his chest, where she belonged. He kicked them through the gaping wreck, out the open tail and toward the surface.
She squeezed him tighter. Her body slid, and her feet tangled with his knees.
He slowed to reposition. “Relax. We are safe now.”
“Don’t I need to breathe out?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re rising. The pressure on the air…I don’t want to pop a lung.”
“You do not have air in your lungs.”
She blinked. “Oh. Right.”
He skimmed under the surface currents toward Val’s raft. It was visible in the distance, and he ought to reach it quickly.
Dannika’s grip tightened again.
When a bride swam with his warrior, they usually formed a perfect fit and experienced a boost of speed. But the tight human clothing hampered their movement, and Dannika’s tight hugs put her body at the wrong angle.
He tried to reposition her again.
She clung harder than a limpet, crushing him.
Hadali kicked beside them at an easy pace. “You’re a mainland woman, aren’t you? Are you his bride?”
“Kind of. Not yet, exactly.” She grappled Ciran in a stranglehold. “It’s complicated. How—”
“What is complicated?” Ciran interrupted. “You are my bride. You pledged yourself to me.”
“Right, but we haven’t held the marriage ceremony at the Life Tree of Atlantis, so technically—”
“You are still my bride. You always have been. Now, you have accepted my claim. You are my bride.”
“Right. On the surface, we’d call it a fiancée. That’s all I meant.”
But her soul light had dimmed. That was not all she had meant.
Unease seeped into his heart.
“I know you’re hurt.” Hadali craned his neck over his shoulder. “But can you hurry? You don’t want to run into the patrol on the open water. Trust me.”
Ciran kicked harder than ever before, striving to regain his pace when every shock, inside and out, jolted him off-rhythm and made him feel like he was churning the water against himself.
“Where are you from?” Hadali asked Dannika. “New York or Florida or China?”
“Maryland,” she said. “I have a studio in New York so I can be close to—”
“New York! I have a stepbrother in New York. Maybe you know him?”
Dannika smiled for the first time since the plane was still flying high, and her soul light glowed. All at once, Ciran’s kicks smoothed and he could finally jump their speed.
“Maybe I do,” she said. “What’s his name?”
“Hunter.”
“Hmm. Well, I know a few Hunters, but no one mentioned being related to a merman.”
“You must know him. That’s why my mom received a sign and sent us to help. If Lieutenant Orike had gotten to you first, we would have found nothing but chum.”
“Your mother received a sign?” Dannika rested her head on Ciran’s shoulder, finally relaxing. “That’s funny. What kind of a sign?”
“We saw your plane go down. Mom said you'd be important.”
Tulu shouted. “There, the raft!”
“Oh, good.” Hadali veered toward it. “We found it before the Luscans doubled back.”
They aimed for the small square dwarfed by the endless ocean.
“You have a mother,” Ciran repeated because only a few cities had allowed women to stay on as queens. Lusca, so far as he knew, was not one of those cities.
“Yes, she’s a mainland woman like Dannika.”
“How does she know us?” Dannika asked.
“She doesn’t, but you’re going to be important.”
“Important for what?”
Hadali and Tulu hovered below the raft. They looked at each other, then at Ciran and Dannika.
“For taking over Lusca, of course,” Hadali said.
Chapter Ten
Taking over Lusca?
Wait, what?
“What do you mean, taking over Lusca?” Dannika asked the two teens.
“The All-Council tried.” Ciran’s dark, certain vibration sent ticklish thrills up her spine. “It is impossible.”
“Not with you it isn’t.” Hadali beamed, energetic and hopeful. Tulu nodded. “Our moms will explain.”
The two boys seized the edges of the raft and popped out of the water.
Val screamed.
It echoed strangely in Dannika’s water-filled ears.
Oops.
Dannika fumbled for the raft. Ciran grabbed the edge and hauled her onto the puffy orange plastic.
The water ran off her skin like peeling off a gel. It drained out of her mouth and throat. Her chest lightened. She took a familiar breath.
Globs of liquid stuck in her throat like snot in her bronchial tubes.
She coughed and hacked so hard tears burned her eyes and real snot clogged her throat. She gagged and threw up over the side. A wave slapped her in the face, dousing her. She gasped and choked.
Ciran steadied her.
She collapsed bonelessly in his arms. Everything felt heavy and rough. Her throat filled with grit. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Dannika!” Val crawled toward her. The blood crusted on her face, and her skin underneath was green. She patted Dannika’s shoulders. “You’re alive.”
Dannika wheezed. “Barely.”
Ciran rested the crowbar at his now-hu
man feet and handed Val the bottle of Sea Opal elixir. “Drink and heal.”
She took the elixir. “Are they your friends?”
Hadali and Tulu floated on the other side of the raft. They had jumped in and Val had screamed. They must have jumped right out again.
“Friends? No, we have just met them,” Ciran said.
Val fumbled for Ciran’s crowbar.
“They…rescued…us…” Dannika managed between coughs.
“Yes, do not harm them. They may be allies.”
“We will take you to Sanctuary,” Hadali said.
“Oh, you speak English.” Val sighed with relief. “You gave me the biggest scare.”
“Sorry.”
Tulu dove.
“What’s Sanctuary?” Val asked.
“Our island. It’s not far. Except we’re going the wrong way. Excuse me.” Hadali dropped beneath the waves as well.
The raft jerked to the left. The teens pulled it across the currents, and waves bumped and splashed the fragile plastic.
“Are you well?” Ciran asked Dannika.
Dannika nodded. Her throat burned with salty fire. “I heard shifting was rough.”
“Changing back is the hardest.” He released her. “I will assist with the raft.”
Under the water.
Where the Lusca hunted.
Where he could die.
She grabbed him. “No!”
He sat stiffly.
All the blackest, most awful terrors gushed into her mind, choking out her reason. His elbow poked her bruised belly, but she hugged him even tighter. “Don’t go. You’re injured. It’s dangerous.”
“You are injured.” He gripped her sore shoulders, gently easing her away from him. “I am capable. And I must help the trainees pilot this raft. If a full patrol attacks in open water, Luscan tridents can easily pierce this plastic.”
Logically, it made sense.
But if she let him go…
Disaster. Crisis.
Death.
“Dannika.” He pulled her onto his lap once more and hugged her, rocking her gently. “You survived. The Luscans did not harm you. We will evade them. Do not dim your light with tortured thoughts.”
His bulging arms tightened with quelling strength.
She was being irrational. No, that wasn’t true. She was a hundred percent rational after the sabotage, the plane crash, and the hostile warriors, but dwelling in those fears didn’t make her any safer right now.
Ciran was right.
She would do anything to keep him safe in the boat, but that wasn’t an option right now.
Dannika tried to force in a shaky breath. Her bronchial tubes constricted and wrenched another torrent of coughs from her beleaguered lungs.
Ugh. She couldn’t even breathe deeply like normal because of the gritty shift. She had to learn a fresh way to calm this anxiety attack.
“I’ll be okay,” she finally managed.
“Of course you will be.” He helped her to sit comfortably across from Val in the raft and rested her hands in her lap. “You have a large, selfless heart. If you could change places with me, you would do so without hesitation.”
He was right. God, he was so right.
“Harness that frustration so you can develop your queen powers.” He brushed her wet hair back from her face. “And then I, a second lieutenant of Atlantis, will shelter under your protection.”
Oh. Gosh.
He always knew exactly what to say.
His brow cleared. He stroked her cheek with his broad thumb. “Now your soul is bright. Hold onto this feeling. It gives me strength.”
She clasped his taut forearm. “I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will.” He leaned forward.
She lifted her chin for his kiss.
Hadali popped up behind the raft. “Hey, Ciran? We could really use some help down here.”
“I am coming now,” Ciran promised.
Hadali disappeared again.
Val offered Ciran the crowbar.
“You keep it.” He pressed his lips to Dannika.
She melted into his touch.
The comforting kiss was exactly what she needed. His firm jaw did not yield to her fears. His rough male skin grazed her soft cheek.
His scent filled her with warmth and protection. Images flooded her. The way he’d wielded the crowbar, the way he’d never given up. It is okay to love this male. He will never drown and leave you.
He pulled back, and a small smile curved his lips. The coffee and green tattoos swirled in alternating patterns across his high cheekbones, never quite touching even though they got so close.
Would this be her last view of him? Oh, she had to remember every detail. Her bruised belly tensed again. What if this was their last kiss?
His lips flattened. “Channel your strength. Not your fears.”
“You’re right.” She took a half-breath and let it out with only a little cough. “I know. I’ll work on it.”
Hadali bobbed above the surface again. “Ciran?”
“Yes.” He released Dannika’s hands in her lap. “Believe in me.”
“I do believe in you.”
He slipped over the side with barely a splash.
She gripped the side of the raft. The waves reflected the clear afternoon sky and her anxiety. “Come back.”
Beneath the raft, Ciran took a position between the trainees. Tulu kicked quietly. Hadali peppered him with questions.
“Have you ever fought a Luscan?”
“Yes,” Ciran said. “They sometimes attack Undine.”
“And you survived? That’s good. Have you ever fought a kraken?”
“No.”
“That’s not good. Can you really help us take over Lusca?”
“Perhaps.” Ciran kicked steadily. He had planned no takeovers since his training days. And even then, the question had been hypothetical. Mer cities were so depleted they did not have enough warriors to defend their own Life Trees and declare war on another’s. “What are your resources?”
“There’s us.” Hadali gripped the raft with one hand while he counted off on the other. “Me and Tulu. Now you. And Dannika, and the other one.”
“Val.”
“Right.” Hadali lifted his gaze toward the surface as he thought. “Itime, of course. And Konomelu.”
Another warrior name. “Your father?”
“No. But his son, Nuno, is the oldest kid on the island now. They distracted the patrol at the beginning and let us sneak out to help you.”
He made a mental map. Itime and Tulu, this Konomelu—assumedly another exiled Luscan warrior, like Itime—and Nuno. A third father, most likely, and Hadali.
“And our moms, I guess. But they don’t go in the ocean.”
Brides who could not transform?
“How unfortunate,” Ciran murmured. Three queens once defended Atlantis from the All-Council army and their fiercest, most unstoppable nightmare trench creatures.
And while he had no driving interest in re-battling Lusca after the All-Council had failed, three queens would have made evading the local patrol and returning Dannika to the mainland much easier.
“I know,” Hadali said, and Tulu nodded. “And everybody else is too young. Well, some of Tulu’s and Nuno’s brothers are getting up to our age. But look at us. We’re barely trainees.”
“Only because we haven’t been allowed to train,” Tulu murmured.
“Stupid Lieutenant Orike.” Hadali gripped the raft and kicked extra hard. “I hate him. Hate him! Lieutenant Figuara was much nicer. He brought me a swordfish spear on my tenth birthday.”
Their raft bumped into a sunfish lounging on its side in the waves.
In the raft above, Dannika’s soul dimmed.
A matching coldness seeped into Ciran’s joints. His muscles tremored. Weakness threatened to stop him.
He mentally commanded her to channel her strength.
Do not let fear win.
The
marine animal flipped over and burbled away, rippling at half the size of the raft.
Three queens who already commanded their powers, secure in their soul mate bond, and could teach Dannika to do the same would have been much appreciated.
The raft bumped into another sunfish.
He paid more attention.
Around them, the surface teemed with familiar life. Jellies and blue dragons, copepods, and krill. The silvery fish that shivered like surface leaves, and the long darting needles that sometimes erupted from the water into flight, aggressive groupers and predatory swordfish, and backward-shooting nautilus.
But as they swam into currents that tasted of an island, they floated into thick clouds of squids—and the predators that feasted on them.
Most predators veered out of their way.
The raft bumped over yet another stationary, side-floating sunfish.
Ciran was done. “One of you, guide the raft around the surface predators.”
The trainees looked at each other.
“I mean if you think it will help…” Hadali shrugged.
Tulu moved to the front.
The squid closed around them.
“Why are there so many here?” Ciran asked.
“I don’t know. Mom said it used to be called the Forbidden Island, but Tulu’s mom said it should have been called Squid Island.”
One flew at Ciran’s face. It eyed him like a dignified visitor, its tentacles hanging in the front like a tapered nose and its mantle fins fluttering in a rilled pattern.
Then it attached to his elbow, clinging with all eight tentacles, while the two longer clubs squeezed his wrist. A sharp pinch of its beak cut his skin.
“Off.” He brushed the annoyance away.
Its brow ridges turned gold and its central limbs changed to white. It jetted away, leaving behind a cloud of acrid ink.
Then it veered back and latched onto Hadali.
“Hey!” Hadali slapped it. “I live here. Stupid squid. Bite one of the Luscans. Jeez.”
The island appeared, and the ocean floor rose in thick mats of vibrant coral to form an ancient, dead reef stretching all the way to the surface. It separated the cove from the open ocean.
“The sharp coral will pop the raft,” Ciran cautioned.
“That’s okay.” Hadali kicked steadily. “Once we’re inside, we’re safe. And Itime will meet us here. We just have to—”
