by Amy Bearce
Nell took inventory of her body. Her bones ached, but not as bad as she feared. She was breathing, so that was good. But there was something strangely different inside…
The silence in her mind.
And the stinging coldness under her heart.
Memory flooded in of those last minutes with the Dragon. Nell staggered to her feet. The magic she’d grown used to was locked away deep in her heart with the voice. This idea left her hollow, empty, more alone than she’d been in four years.
She refused to even consider the silence within or what it could mean. Instead, she focused on her enemy, always her preference over self-reflection.
“He knew me. He knew my sword style, knew I don’t fight with two swords. He used Shane’s old trick on me, even.”
“Shane McConnel?” Sierra asked. “It can’t be him. Jack and Bentwood had him killed, what, five years ago? Right after you came back from studying with him. He was too much of a threat.”
“Yeah, I know.” She’d been devastated when Jack mentioned it. Shane had expected great things from her. He’d believed in her and treated her with a gruff kindness. Not many in Nell’s life then had been kind.
“And he didn’t have any magic,” Sierra pointed out.
“Neither did I, once,” Nell murmured. Lifting her left hand, she examined the red scar along her palm. Micah’s magic and the voice’s last effort had healed the physical wound, but the small icy space under her heart still burned. Even so, the pain was much reduced.
“Well, whoever the Dragon is, he sure isn’t dead.” Corbin’s eyes were tight.
Not yet, thought Nell, but she was too tired to say the words.
“Not yet,” Sierra said.
Nell smiled, until a memory of those glowing eyes loomed in her mind. She shivered. No doubt one of them would have to die before this battle was over. Whoever he was, he didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d accept defeat gracefully.
“What did he do to you when you fell?” Micah’s voice was low, and he spoke slowly, as if he was choosing each word very carefully. “The level of suffering you experienced did not come from any edged weapon.”
She didn’t want to think about what happened at the end of the fight, but she had to. Even without access to the voice, she could imagine what it would say: trust the others with this.
“He―he’s done something to me with magic, something that’s silenced the voice inside me. I can’t hear it anymore; it’s locked away.” She swallowed hard.
The world went dark for a moment, and she caught herself against the wall. Corbin wrapped his arms around her, but as much as she loved him and was thankful for him, she couldn’t relax. She wasn’t just a girl with her boy. She was Nell, holder of the voice, the one with the message. The Dragon wanted to silence that message and had done so, at least for now.
“I’ve never seen you hurting like that, ever. You still look ill, even with Micah’s magic helping you,” Sierra said, studying Nell’s face.
Nell rubbed the spot under her heart, where pain came and went. She thought of the voice’s warning: He may not be able to steal your magic yet, but he can turn it to darkness―turn you to darkness.
She couldn’t bear to tell them that. If Corbin knew her very soul was in danger, he’d never let her do the necessary fighting to save her family, or herself.
And maybe they wouldn’t trust her anymore. She could tell from Corbin’s frown and downcast gaze that he was already disappointed in her for dueling in the first place. To admit that her own nature led her to this place of vulnerability made her angry―and ashamed. Still, lying didn’t sit well. She’d promised them the truth as best she could, so she compromised.
“I think he used a poison that’s trying to take all the magic the fairies gave me. If it reaches the voice, it’ll take the power forever. The voice said I could be healed at the Tree of Life.”
Corbin ran his hands along her forehead, as if checking for temperature.
“Not that kind of sick,” she said, gently. “His power is inside me, somehow. With magic. The only way to stop it is to get the sword at the Tree of Life.”
Magic. The word lay heavy in the room. For so long, the scarcity of magic was the danger. Now, too much of the wrong kind of magic could kill her and the people she loved most. She could already feel the spot pulling energy from her, even as the voice, she presumed, fought against his contamination.
How will a sword heal me or our world? Nell cried silently.
But there was no reply from the gravelly voice. Just a flutter along her heart. She had long wished for the voice to go away, but what good was a voice of prophecy if it didn’t speak when needed?
Nell shook off the pain and pulled on her backpack. She arranged her bow and quiver. Someone had thankfully grabbed her sword and dagger. She strapped those back on like armor against her fears. All she could do now was complete her quest and hope the burning icy place inside would be healed.
“We’ve got to go. There’s a sword to find.” Battle didn’t seem exciting now, but it did seem necessary. And inevitable.
Micah gave her an understanding smile. “Then it’s time to return to the sea.”
The sun still had hours yet to set in the long summer day. The four of them slipped past the shadowed front of the temple and around the corner toward the ancient pier.
Micah shaded his eyes with a hand. “I see Tristan and Phoebe in the water with Mina and Liam.”
Sierra let out a quiet sigh.
Clatters came from the other side of the square. Shouting, growing nearer. Nell looked over her shoulder. They still had a bit of time, but not much. People had heard or seen them leave. She guessed they didn’t want to lose their bargaining chip.
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
They raced to the narrow entrance of the dock. Nell let the others run ahead. One splash… two splashes… She faced the pathway, holding the rear, sword drawn. At least the narrow path around the building wouldn’t allow more than a couple of people to pass at a time.
Queenie and Grace arrived, darting around in agitation.
“Don’t attack!” Sierra called to Queenie, who glowed brighter.
“In the water, in the water―now!” Nell burst out.
Killing off half the frightened townsfolk wouldn’t be a way to win back their sympathy, and as much as Nell hated to admit it, the fairies and the rest of Aluvia’s magical creatures still needed the people’s help.
The largest dragon and its rider soared over the building and above the water, silhouetted against the sun. The flying beast wheeled and headed toward them, ready to charge right at her, a prime target on the docks with nowhere to hide.
“Come on!” Sierra yelled.
Glaring at her enemy, Nell backpedaled down the ramp to the dock, and townspeople surged around the building. The first few fell off the narrow walkway into the surf, pushed by the raving crowd. Their faces were contorted with rage, but Nell knew that deep down, fear was what drove people to act like cornered animals.
Everyone from their group was already in the water except one. Corbin waited for her, hand outstretched.
She took four giant bounding steps down the dock, sheathing her sword as she ran. They clasped hands and jumped into the sea together.
nder the water’s surface, the roar of the crowd cut off as if it had never been. Bubbles obscured her vision and brushed across her skin, the water warm from the summer sun. Then a tailfin flashed, and Mina’s concerned face appeared. The mermaid touched Nell, and after an initial shock coursed through her body, lightness filled her.
“You’re okay!” Mina said, grabbing Corbin too.
Nell allowed herself a breath, still hesitant, but the water swirled inside her harmlessly even as that same touch of claustrophobia closed in on her.
Gurgles and watery shouts accosted her ears.
A dark shadow fell over them in the shape of a dragon, growing larger by the second. Above them, the surface frothed, and then sheets of fro
st formed along the white caps, shards of ice falling around them like daggers.
Mina called out, “We must go!”
They darted away, the surface of the ocean glittering with ice behind them. With the merfolk on their side, no one would catch up with them. Thank Aluvia for their magical allies. Now if only they could all be saved from humanity’s short-sightedness.
Nell hated how blind the people had become. And she hated she’d lost to the Dragon―again, in front of everyone. Her hands twitched when she recalled how he’d flipped her blade away as easy as shooing a fly. Shane had tried more than once to teach her that move―and how to deflect it―with careful, clear instruction. If she’d learned it, she might have won today.
Who was this Dragon? Maybe he was one of the other young students who’d studied with Shane, someone who must have mastered what she couldn’t. Three boys her age had been training with Shane before he died. One of those boys had looked down his too-long nose at the girl who’d come to learn to fight. He’d been tall enough to match up with the body of the Dragon and prideful enough to try to conquer the ports. He’d once suggested Nell would make a better tavern wench, serving warriors instead of trying to be one herself.
Just thinking back to that time sent her stomach boiling, but her disgust at today’s defeat stung far worse. It didn’t really matter who the Dragon was―as long as she beat him.
The journey farther south was more somber than Nell’s first underwater experience. The water already felt cold, despite the magic protecting them. Maybe the coldness was from her fear.
The Dragon wouldn’t likely kill the people of the port―he couldn’t grandstand without subjects to rule over―but she couldn’t help being afraid for them. Fear was something Nell was beginning to better understand, but she’d rather not. It stole her excitement, robbed her of the certainty that directed her next course of action. She did her best to push the fear away, but it clung to her like a spider’s web, invisible but unmistakable.
The sea turned bluer, a clear, vibrant shade. The fairies followed above the water in a dancing string of lights. When the sunlight grew faint above, Nell was grateful for the bright silver light radiating from the merfolk’s skin. They sped through the water so quickly that it frothed and churned in their wake.
The merfolk were swimming too hard for any conversation, and the silence allowed Nell to consider the surreal images of the red-cloaked women. She kept coming back to the image of the flaming sword―with pieces of the guardians’ souls inside.
How was such a thing possible, and what did it mean for anyone who used it? She didn’t know how she’d explain the strange visions to her friends, especially if it made Corbin even more reluctant about Nell using the sword. And she had to use it, she was sure.
That soul bit might be best to tell later. A lot later.
As they traveled farther, the creatures around them changed. Fewer brightly-colored fish, fewer jellies. Instead, giant sea turtles now skimmed along the currents, and playful seals and sea lions darted by. After a while, white chunks dotted the top of the water, jagged puzzle pieces long separated from the whole. Blue daggers of ice pointed downward like skewers, and the merfolk slowed their speed. Their swim became a delicate dance, dodging between icebergs large enough to hold a house atop them.
The murky lower waters hid the deep-sea floor from them now. They might as well have been suspended in midair, but Nell couldn’t imagine it feeling the same way. To fly would be the ultimate in freedom. The depths of the ocean felt too much like a watery tomb.
Words wisped up like water vapor, so faint it sounded like an echo from furlongs away, but she recognized it.
The sea’s magic is not for you. Something else awaits you, our child.
Relief thundered through Nell, followed closely by shock at her own response. Was she happy the voice could still speak to her, albeit through a tenuous thread? If it could still speak past the walls around her heart, it could still control her life. Yet joy rose spontaneously at the connection with the magic that had long been a thorn in her side.
And when the whispered words sank in, only Mina’s tugging hand kept Nell moving through her shock. What awaited her? Was it an ominous warning?
But the message didn’t feel that way. It felt like a promise.
A promise of something good from something much bigger than herself, something that understood her true nature and valued it.
And there, amid the chunks of ice, a long-frozen part of Nell began to thaw.
She wasn’t alone. Not just because of her friends, but because of what she carried inside. Maybe it was time to embrace that.
Nell looked at the ocean and caught glimpses of the beauty others saw. The ice glittered like diamonds against the merfolk’s light. The waving seaweed forests looked like a field of wheat spreading out for miles. The low, sonorous notes of a whale’s call echoed majestically.
She met Corbin’s gaze. He was awe-struck, as she knew he would be.
Suddenly, Tristan stopped. “Sea snake. A big one. Do we hide or fight?”
“No more hiding, brother,” Mina said.
Nell could see it now. A gray snake slithered toward them, undulating through the water like the side-winders of the desert. The creature was thicker around than a grown man’s thigh.
The snake swung its head in their direction, thin flaps around its eyes opening and closing like nostrils. Could it smell her fear? She fumbled for her knife.
“No, this is for me to do,” Mina said. Then she lifted one hand toward the snake and shouted, “Go!”
A flash of blue light shot from her palm like a sheet of lightning filling the sky. The light hit the snake, and it reared back, dashing away as quickly as it had come.
Nell’s breath snagged in her throat, and she eyed Mina with new respect. The laughing little mermaid had some claws. Impressive. “That’s what you can do now?”
“Phoebe showed us the way, but we’ve honed the tool to a fine point,” Mina said, her smile smug.
Nell laughed. “As sharp as my sword!”
Corbin grinned at both of them and squeezed Nell’s hand.
“If we mer could learn to fight back and defend ourselves, I know you can find the magic you need to win against this new enemy,” Mina said.
“Thank you,” Nell said.
They regrouped and kept moving forward, remaining wary. The sea became a labyrinth. Sometimes the ice only floated on top like a giant barge, but often, inverted pyramids pushed deep underwater, with few openings for passage. The sheet of ice above them thickened into a solid mass.
“We need to stop here and move to the surface,” Tristan said. “I dare not risk going further under solid ice floes.”
“You’ve taken us farther than I thought possible,” Nell assured him, turning to include Mina and Liam. “We’re very thankful.”
“Liam and I would go with you, but we have not been gifted with landwalking,” Mina said. “Here is where we must say goodbye, after we see you safely onto the ground.”
Micah said, “I will go first and set up the tents and begin a fire. I am the most hardened against winter temperatures.”
Tristan warned, “You will be in severe danger of freezing until you put on your dry winter clothing. As long as a part of you touches the water, Mina and Liam can channel enough magic into you to remove the worst of the chill. I’ll go with you. No one should be out there alone, and I, too, am hardier than humans.”
“Thank you. I’ll take the help gladly,” Micah replied.
Nell had wanted to be the first on the ice, but common sense won out. Micah had much more experience surviving in snowy mountains. He’d shift to his faun form as soon as he left the water, so at least his lower half would have the added protection of his fur. Tristan had no fur, but as a merfolk, he was used to transitioning from cold waters to land and had magic to keep him strong.
Micah scrambled onto of the surface of the Ice-Locked Lands, followed by Tristan. Time seemed
frozen down in the dark, icy waters where the rest waited, but after a while, glowing dots of fairy lights danced just above the surface.
“That’s our sign,” Sierra muttered.
“It’ll take just a moment to ease you into the winter weather with our magic,” Mina said.
Nell pulled herself from the water along the edge of the ice and onto land. Mina’s hand on her ankle felt warm, but the rest of her shivered and ached immediately.
“Hurry!” Micah wrapped her in a towel and lifted her straight off her feet to whisk her into a tent before she caught more than a glimpse of moonlit white all around.
Inside the tent, a little brazier glowed, its red coals already sending out much needed heat. Nell’s hair had begun to freeze into solid chunks in the arctic air. Her teeth clacked together so hard she feared they might break. She’d never been so cold in all her life.
Micah briskly rubbed her arms. “The sooner you change into proper, dry gear, the better.” He dug in her pack and pulled out the warm winter clothing from the top layer.
“I’ll get Corbin out while you change.” He laced the tent shut when he left.
She set to work immediately, unpeeling her swim layers, cursing as the cold bit at her wet skin. Her hands shook, but she managed to pull on her winter clothes, complete with jacket, hat, and gloves. Then she huddled next to the brazier, closed her eyes, and hoped to survive. Hunger gripped her belly, but she didn’t even have the energy to eat.
The spot under her heart throbbed with a new pain in her exhausted state. Whatever magic Micah had invested in her must be running thin. She rubbed her chest and kept silent. Already the merfolk were pouring out magic like a bleeding wound just to keep all of them from freezing as they left the water. She couldn’t take more magic now.
Each member of the group followed the same procedure, one by one, until the whole team was tucked away inside their tents along the edge of the shore. The moon hung high in the sky, marking the late hour. They needed to rest and be ready to go first thing in the morning.
She hoped the ice didn’t break off and float away. They should have pitched tents farther away from the shoreline.
