Between the Sea and Stars

by Chantal Gadoury

  Between the Sea and Stars

  The Lena Series - Book One

  Chantal Gadoury

  Copyright © 2018 by Chantal Gadoury

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published by The Parliament House

  Edited by J.D. Castleberry

  Lena & Soren Artwork by Aislinn Honeycutt

  Line editing by David Rochelero

  Created with Vellum

  The book is dedicated to Reggie, who gave a mermaid a second chance to love and the happily-ever-after she dreamed of.

  * * *

  And to all the dreamers of the world. This book is for you.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Phonetics Glossary

  About the Author

  The Adventure Continues…

  Acknowledgments

  The Parliament House

  1

  “Lena!”

  Javelin’s voice echoed through the currents of the Skagerrak Sea, startling Lena where she sat perched upon a mound of rocks, humming to herself.

  She tilted her chin, careful not to disturb the large, colorful starfish grazing her fingertips. She narrowed her eyes on a blur in the distance—her older brother bursting through a school of speckled wrasses.

  She’d expected him to return from the market hours ago. Even from afar, she could see his striking blue eyes and sandy-blonde hair. His arms were textured with powerful muscles, his skin flawless and pale. His gleaming silver tail launched him forward, muscles coiling like rope beneath his crescent-shaped scales.

  “Lena! I had good luck scavenging!” he called. “I was the hit of the market!”

  Lena combed a hand through her long, brown hair. The wayward strands reflected particles of gold and red in the sparkling water. She remembered the last time Javelin had announced a good day of trade. He’d found a newly sunken ship just beyond the coral walls, filled with strange rocks that glittered from the deep recesses of wooden barrels. That discovery had resulted in offers from nearly every vendor in the square.

  “What did you find?” she called back, doing her best to conceal her curiosity even as her body straightened with excitement.

  Javelin thrust his hand forward as he came to rest upon the rock beside her. With a grin, he uncurled his scaled fingers to reveal a shimmering pink shell on a chain made of delicate white kelp.

  “It’s beautiful!” Lena exclaimed as he pressed it into her palm. She admired how perfectly it fit in her hand, and just how unique the color was compared to the troves of shells they’d collected over the years.

  Javelin had a knack for scavenging and bartering. He’d made a name for himself in the market, selling the best trinkets to the highest bidders, while Lena spent her days hunting small crabs and unaware fish.

  “I thought of you when I saw it,” he said, clearly amused by her balking. “Couldn’t bring myself to sell it.” He nudged her playfully with his shoulder, his blue eyes scanning the small bushel of crab in her lap. “Have you had much luck this morning?”

  “Not nearly as much as I’d hoped,” Lena admitted, and bit her bottom lip. “What took you so long?”

  Javelin picked up one of the crabs she’d collected and cracked the outer shell with a nearby rock. “Other than trying to make better trades than last time, I had a few admirers stop me.”

  “Again?” Lena rolled her eyes. Merrow women were always fluttering their lashes at Javelin, flipping their hair and flicking their tails, hoping to catch his attention.

  “They’ll move on eventually,” Javelin shrugged. “They always do.” With nimble fingers, he twisted the crab legs and tugged the meat free between his teeth.

  Lena plucked one of the dangling legs from his palm. She twisted the shell between her fingers, releasing the tender flesh underneath. The crab meat was juicy, rich and full of salty flavor. Her stomach rumbled as it dissolved on her tongue. She swallowed and tore off another bite.

  “It seems you’ve become an expert in the hunt,” Javelin grinned, licking his fingers and reaching after her catch. Lena swatted his hand away and began to push the small heap of crabs into a nearby sack.

  “Save them for later, Javelin,” she sighed. “I want to show father. . .”

  “There’s plenty,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I did well in the market, so it seems we’ll both have good news to bring him.”

  Lena pushed herself up from the rock and hovered over a small hole she had seemingly missed; another crab’s home. With quick fingers, she reached inside and grabbed for the creature, careful to avoid its large claws. She slid her small hunting knife into the crab’s belly and pushed it into the sack with the others.

  “You’re getting better and better Lena.”

  “You think so?” she said as she dropped her knife into the sack.

  Javelin nodded. His eyes scanned the ocean floor quickly, then darted back to hers. A devilish grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.

  “Race you back!” he winked and began to swim away before she could react.

  “Aren’t we getting a little old for racing?” Lena shouted, shoving the sack’s handles over her shoulder. After all, she’d celebrated her eighteenth birthday a fortnight ago. A giggle tickled her throat as she scurried after him, her choppy breaths sending bubbles floating up, up, up toward a bright, sprawling light overhead—the sun.

  Lena turned her violet gaze toward the surface. Envy and wonder swirled in her veins at the idea of basking in that warm, iridescent glow. In the early days of her childhood, before the death of the queen, merrows had breached the crested waves and gazed upon the human world from afar. Now, surfacing was strictly forbidden. Poseidon’s wrath awaited any merrows brave or foolish enough to disobey the king’s decree. The idea sent a shudder down her back, even as longing bloomed in her chest.

  With a start, she realized she’d begun to swim skyward. She leveled her gaze on Javelin and pushed harder against the current, catching up with him at last.

  “Took you long enough, little minnow,” Javelin smirked.

  Lena narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a minnow,” she replied, wrinkling her nose at the pet name.

  Javelin tilted his head back to laugh, slowing his pace. Lena tried to steady her heaving breaths as she found a comfortable rhythm beside him.

  “What do you think it’s like up there?” she asked as her eyes darted back through the water. The glittering rays of the sun captivated her, only fueling her curiosity.

  “We’ve talked about this so many times, Lena,” Javelin replied. “How many more times do we need to go over the rules put in place?”

  “At least once more,” she begged. “Truly, what do you think it’s like?”

  “I’ve already told you wh
at I think, over and over and over again.”

  “Tell me again,” she said softly, a playful smile bowing her lips.

  Javelin raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps later.” He mussed her hair, sending her bucking out of arm’s length.

  Ahead, their home came into view, darkened by the shadow of a nearby shipwreck. The weathered stone was a far cry from the sleek huts and shell-paved pavilions of Lena’s youth. After her mother’s untimely death, her father, Carrick, had moved the family into a deserted cavern near the small village of Sogen Hav, leagues from the capital city of Skagerrak.

  He hovered now just beyond the threshold, awaiting their return. Age had stripped the sight from his eyes and whitened his hair. His faded, vermilion tail—once brightly red—swayed beneath him, matching the gentle current.

  “Father will be happy to see these,” Javelin murmured, tapping Lena’s sack.

  “What will I be happy to see?” Carrick bellowed as they slowed the rhythm of their swim. His unseeing, gray eyes darted blankly between them. His gnarled hand reached forward, searching for the familiar shape of his vanished children.

  “I had quite a lucky morning, father,” Lena chirped, massaging her catch of crabs so the shells clacked together.

  Carrick chuckled. “That you did, min pige.” My girl. “It seems you have your mother’s talent.”

  Lena smiled, a painful curiosity rising in her throat. She had so many questions about her mother’s death, but they always went unanswered. She glanced at Javelin, who shook his head.

  “And you, Javelin?” Carrick’s gray gaze moved slowly, as if he were searching for his eldest child in the dark.

  “I had quite a bit of luck as well,” Javelin smirked, and dropped his sack into his father’s hand.

  Carrick shook out a few perfectly shaped pearls and two large ash-white sand dollars. His fingers paused on a smooth, round shard of obsidian. With a thumb, he traced its outer edge, inspecting the size.

  “It’s lovely,” Lena murmured, mesmerized by the slick black glass. Obsidian was prized in the Skagerrak Sea, chiseled from the shark-infested coves near the underwater fire pits. Only the bravest merrows dared to retrieve it, and this shard was substantial. Javelin rarely brought home such a payment.

  “You did well, my boy,” Carrick nodded. “The pearls will be easy to trade again if we need to.”

  He slid the treasures back into Javelin’s satchel and tucked it away.

  Lena clutched her hands in front of her navel. Her efforts paled in comparison to Javelin’s success. Her father shifted toward her, as if sensing her dampened spirits. He reached forward, his gentle fingers finding her shoulder first, then her cheek.

  “Come, min pige.” He tilted his head toward the cavern as his hand trailed carefully over the wall, seeking guidance. “You’ve collected us a feast, and I look forward to enjoying it.”

  2

  Evening poured over the ocean like an octopus’s ink. Fish slipped between tall, swaying blades of grass or concealed themselves in the hollows of coral. Crabs burrowed beneath the sand, safe from Lena’s swift hand for another night. All was quiet and peaceful as a shadowy calm infused the sea.

  Carrick had long since gone to bed, but Lena and Javelin remained awake, tucked into a hidden alcove of the cavern—their grotto. It was a natural dome of echoing stone, where the best of their scavenged treasures were stored. Much of what they found in shipwrecks was forbidden or scandalized at the market, human artifacts that couldn’t be refabricated to suit merrow needs. Whatever they couldn’t bear to abandon, they kept here.

  This was their special, secret place. Anyone might have entered it, unbidden, through a slim hole rung by moss and carved into the ceiling. But the cavern was so remote. There were no neighbors passing curiously by, no children wandering too far from home who might happen upon the grotto by mistake. At this time of night, its only spies were sea life. Broad-shelled turtles peeked in as they ascended to the surface to sleep. Eels twined together, massaging their slippery skin on the moss. Occasionally, a shark drifted by, gliding slowly through the relaxed current in a slumberous, mesmerized state. Otherwise, the grotto went unseen.

  Lena pulled her aquamarine tail closer to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, listening attentively as Javelin recited the last lines of a familiar merrow story—a favorite of children in the capital city.

  She wasn’t in the mood for safe stories tonight. Talk of humans was discouraged throughout the Skagerrak Sea, but here, they could tell whatever tales they liked, imagine whatever they wished, dream their most precious, forbidden dreams.

  “Tell me the legend of the Skagerrak queen.”

  Javelin lifted a brow. “It’s hardly a legend, Lena,” he said. “It’s barely been a decade.” His voice was easy, unbothered by the possibility of being overheard. They were alone in this place. There was no need to whisper or scold or shush. Still, he groaned. “I’ve told that one a thousand times. You should know it by heart. Aren’t you tired of it yet?”

  “Come on,” Lena urged him. “It’s my favorite. Tell me again.”

  He rolled his eyes, but his mouth curved into a grin. “Fine.” His scooped a clam shell out of the sand and began sliding the sharp side of a rock against its grain. “The queen fell in love with a human man,” he began, his strong fingers holding the clam firmly in place. “Every full moon, she used her magic to travel ashore to see him.”

  Lena settled onto her elbows, relishing the smooth sound of her brother’s voice as he recited the tale. A dreamy smile spread over her lips.

  “I wonder how she met him,” she murmured softly, tilting her chin up and letting her lashes flutter shut.

  “Likely the same way any merrow meets a human,” Javelin teased. “Shipwrecked during one of Poseidon’s storms. She should have drowned him immediately.”

  “But she couldn’t!” Lena’s eyes pinged open. “For he was devilishly handsome, even soaking wet. The most handsome man she’d ever seen.”

  “Devilish is right,” Javelin allowed. “Whether he was handsome or not, I’ll let your imagination decide.”

  “Oh, he was.” Lena was smiling widely now. “He was, perhaps, the most beautiful human man in existence, and desperately enraptured by the queen. Each full moon, he waited for her, pacing the beach like a madman. And when she would emerge from the sea, he’d run hip-deep to meet her, unable to spend one more moment apart. He’d wrap his muscular arms around her—”

  “For Poseidon’s sake, Lena.”

  “And they’d dance together,” she pressed on, giggling, “as only humans can do. They’d dance and dance the hours away, bathed in starlight, humming songs into one another’s ears.”

  “Until one night. . .” Javelin prompted smugly, and Lena rolled her eyes.

  “Until one night,” she sighed, “something overcame the queen’s lover. Greed.”

  “Human greed,” Javelin corrected. “Human nature. It was only a matter of time.”

  She glared at him, but didn’t interrupt as he continued. This was the best and the worst part of the tale, and Javelin—damn him, was good at telling it. And he knew.

  “That night, the queen swam toward the surface, impatient as ever she was. Ready to be rid of her tail. Ready to be human again. Her magic was a gift from Poseidon himself, contained in a delicate shell which she wore around her neck on a gold chain. It gave her the ability to explore the shore, and to control the storms and seas.”

  Lena leaned in.

  “As she swam, the queen began to change. Faint sobs faltered over her blue-scaled lips—cries of pain, lost to the rushing lull of the waves and the urgent beating of her fins. Swiftly, her tail separated into two perfectly shaped legs, and she rose out of the sea.”

  “Don’t leave out the good parts,” Lena whispered. She knew her brother would skim over the romance just to annoy her.

  Javelin gave her a pointed look. Then he grinned. “The moon was high that night,” he said, lowering his voice to
a hush for effect. “The land was illuminated by an eerie, silver glow. Beneath its light, the queen’s new flesh was creamy and soft. Her hair became one with the wind, and her body shivered against a violent, uproarious breeze. Perhaps it was a warning from the gods, but the queen didn’t see it as such. The human lands were cold, suffering a new, frigid season, but her heart remained warm. She smiled, though her transition had been agony, when she heard the sound of water splashing and saw her beloved moving toward her through the shallows.

  “She sang his name as he brushed chaste kisses against her neck, and relaxed fully against him, trusting him completely. She was blind to the wicked yearning which had wrapped around his heart. Which made his body tense, which crushed his lungs till he could hardly breathe. He wanted her shell, for he’d discovered what powers were locked inside that delicate charm. Powers gifted to whomsoever possessed it. His fingers dipped to her throat, caressing the shell which had allowed her to return to him, again and again. The queen eyed him strangely, and he dropped his hands to her waist, tugging her against him, kissing her deeply.”

  Lena sighed, and Javelin smirked.

  “She was a fool,” he said.

  “She was in love,” Lena amended.

  “She was both,” he conceded. “And that foolish love consumed her. Deceived her. Seduced her. Clouded her eyes, so love was all she could see. But that fateful eve, her beloved’s affection was not what it seemed. He’d seduced himself too, with all the prospects of what might be. His own love had been replaced by a lust for riches unknown. For control of the land and sea.”