“There’s been a mistake, then,” Lena insisted, releasing the crystal and lurching away from him. “Javelin could never be like you and your clan. He’s not a murderer.”
Asger retrieved the necklace from the violent swirl of her wake. “You’re sympathetic to the humans now, but only because you don’t know any better,” he said slowly. He pushed himself from the ledge of the rock seat. Lena stiffened as he slipped behind her and strapped his muscled arms around her waist, pressing away the sliver of space between her bare back and his chest. He draped the necklace over her throat, sweeping her long hair away from its fibrous chain.
“Humans are cruel, søstjerne,” he whispered.
Lena shivered as bubbles of breath trickled over her neck.
“They’re brutal, barbaric, and unfeeling. I’ve witnessed them trying to capture merrows in their large fishing nets. I’ve watched them . . . slaughtering members of my clan on the banks of the shore, tearing my brothers apart, cutting away pieces of their flesh, stealing droplets of their blood. The ones that come to the Kattegat Sea are foolish. They know they seal their fate each time they travel through our territory, and yet, they continue to sail. They challenge us and the gods. They’re ignorant, and delight in their own selfishness. You will see for yourself how evil the humans are, one day.”
Lena bowed her head. The old merrow’s story echoed back to her. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Mette’s lover had feasted on her flesh and stolen her years. But he was one man, and the sailors Asger spoke of . . . dozens, perhaps, among a vast population. Lena refused to believe all of humankind was cruel.
“Asger, I’m honored by your offer,” she began. She lifted her fingertips to the crystal. Its surface was smooth and cool and oddly light.
“Please don’t deny me,” Asger growled. He circled in front of her and brushed his rough lips against her cheek. “Your father gave me his blessing. Accepting my proposal will solidify the safety of your family . . . and my love for you.”
Lena narrowed her eyes. She knew it wasn’t love in his heart—not the sort of love she truly desired, anyway. He offered her security, but nothing more. She knew all too well the expectations he would have for her, as any merrow would have in a new wife. She’d become just like the rest of the woman in her village—birthing children, weaving, and tending to meals. Following her husband’s rules dutifully, without question, without complaint.
She wanted more. Freedom. A life with no limitations.
Asger ducked his brow to the crook of her neck and brushed soft kisses over her shoulder. “Remember how I used to promise to be your husband one day, søstjerne? When we were young, I bound myself to you. I took an oath in my heart that when the time came, I would take you to be my wife. You used to smile and blush when I said such things.”
“I was a child then,” Lena murmured. “I was . . .” infatuated. Asger had been the strongest of the merrow boys, and one of the most handsome. He’d always paid her special attention, which had caused her stomach to twist and turn with delight. It was Asger who’d taught her how to hunt, how to carve the white and pink flesh from the shells of crabs and shrimp. Asger, who’d taught her how to survive.
“Remember that night, søstjerne. The gift I gave you. It was my vow.” His voice was husky and warm as his fingers moved past the lingering strings of rocks, pearls, and shell which dangled around her neck. He brushed them away, revealing the pointed tips of her breasts.
A sensual rumble emerged from his throat and filled Lena’s ears as the pads of his thumb and forefinger slowly moved over the curve of her chest. His lips caressed the scaled curve of her ear. A soft stream of bubbles emerged from his lips, tickling Lena’s sensitive skin, causing a sharp breath to catch in her throat.
A jolt of pleasure whipped down Lena’s spine. Tingles cascaded to the tips of her fins as she recalled the night of her sixteenth birthday.
Asger had come to visit, bringing a sack of cod, soft fabrics from the humans, and a clutch of large scallop shells. He’d stayed by her side through the night, long after the festivities had ended. He had spoken to her of his home in Kattegat, of his clan. Of how he much he missed Javelin and his other childhood friends. He’d spoken of his father, too. Confided the memories of Jørgen which remained, ever-present in his mind. And through all of his shared secrets, he’d brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand.
He’d slipped a silver ring on her third finger, a present no doubt stolen from a drowned sailor, or perhaps an unfortunate young woman traveling across the seas.
It was there, in the darkened sea, that he’d kissed her.
The next day, he’d returned to Kattegat without bidding her farewell. A swift, unfeeling departure which had dissolved Lena’s girlish fantasies like sea foam.
Lena had never spoken of that kiss, of the hurt and anger that had followed. She’d revealed that devastation to no one—not even Javelin. But perhaps Asger hadn’t meant to hurt her . . . perhaps she’d misunderstood…
Asger’s hands roamed to her hips, and her stomach spiraled.
“Give me time to consider,” she managed to murmur, cursing the intoxicating shivers which traveled along her the length of her tail.
Desire swirled in Asger’s golden eyes. His hands cupped her cheeks as he leaned forward again and kissed her softly.
“I need time,” Lena panted, shifting her face away from his. She squirmed out of his grasp and moved toward the doorway of the cavern, grateful for the distance; the room to think and process coherently.
“I have waited all these years, I do not mind waiting a fortnight more.”
Asger’s confession filled the silent space between them. He swam toward her, but Lena leaned against the stone archway and ducked into the dark foyer within. She tugged his necklace free, snapping its rope-chain, and slipped the opal crystal back into his hands.
“Goodnight, Asger,” she whispered and quickly swam to her room, not daring to look over her shoulder.
6
Asger left at the first glimpse of trickling sunlight from above. He thanked Carrick for his hospitality and promised to return later that evening to gather Javelin for the clan. As he turned his liquid-gold gaze toward Lena, he did not bring up his proposal from the night before.
Instead, he gave her a silent nod and drifted into the waters ahead.
Lena could feel her father’s eyes on her back as she watched Asger’s sapphire tail vanish in the distance. To avoid his questions, she slipped into the vast waters to hunt for more sea fare. At least in the quiet stillness of the sea, she could try to sort out her thoughts . . . her true feelings. But even alone, she felt torn, as if a riptide were yanking her in every direction.
Her conscience was hardly a comfort. What would happen if Javelin left with Asger and she stayed behind? Would she be able to care for Carrick all on her own? Would their suffering increase without Javelin there to sell his scavenged treasures at the market?
Lena sighed, and tightened her fist around her spear. The crabs beneath her fin were quick this morning, and her focus was ensnared by thoughts of the Fosse-Søfolk, of Asger’s proposal, of the future. After collecting several large scallops, enough to feed her father and Javelin for the day, she gave up on her hunt.
She dropped her satchel at the cavern’s main archway, then swam to the grotto. Perhaps there, surrounded by all of her human treasures, she’d be able to find solace.
She sat upon one of the jutting rocks and cupped her chin in her palms. Asger’s advances the night before had startled her—confused her. It was clear they felt something for one another, but would it be enough? Was it truly what she wished for?
The water shifted suddenly, and Lena’s gaze flew over her shoulder.
“It’s just me,” Javelin said, his features strained as he entered the secret cave. He combed a hand through his hair and swam to her side. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to,” he mumbled as he took a seat beside her, his silver fins swaying with the gentle cur
rent.
“I needed time to think,” Lena admitted.
“I figured as much.” Her brother’s fingers brushed against the small pink shell around her neck. “Father mentioned Asger’s plans for you. His offer.”
“And what of the offer Asger made to you?” Lena’s violet eyes were cold as she glared at him.
Javelin stiffened. “It’s an honor to be chosen for the Fosse-Søfolk,” he said.
“An honor,” Lena scoffed. She glanced at him, noting the hard set of his eyes. “You’re not going to accept, are you?”
Javelin remained silent.
Lena shook her head. “You can’t!”
“I don’t have a choice, Lena,” he replied, clenching his jaw. “You know this. We all know this. I’ve been called. It will be my duty—”
“To kill?” Lena interjected. “To lure humans to a watery grave?”
“To protect our family. To protect the merrows,” Javelin corrected. He lowered his voice, pain etched across his face. “Perhaps it would be best if you accepted your duty, too. I don’t doubt Asger’s feelings for you, Lena. He would provide for you. He would treat you as you deserve to be treated.”
Lena shifted away from him, tugging her tail against her chest. “If you leave us, our family will dissolve,” she said. “If I leave, too, our father will have no one.”
Javelin frowned, and uncurled his fingers, revealing the same opal stone that Asger had shown her the night before.
“I accepted the Fosse stone,” he said, and held it out to her.
“The stone of the gods.” A clear indication that he would join Asger’s clan. Lena plucked it up with nimble fingers and passed it between her hands. It was warm . . . quivering. She narrowed her eyes. “Why is it buzzing like that?”
“It comes to life when humans are nearby,” Javelin explained. “That’s how the clan knows when to . . .” He paused.
Lena peered up through the cavern’s cracks, eyes tracing the glittering slivers of sunlight. “Humans?”
“Yes. The Fosse-Søfolk are patrolling nearby. They’ve been assigned to Skagerrak for the next few days.”
“Won’t you be joining your new-found brothers?” she mocked, lifting the stone between her thumb and forefinger. Javelin reached for it, but she swam out of arm’s length and clutched it in her palm. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped, annoyance creasing his brow. “Give it here.”
“Have you thought about what they’ll make you do?” Lena asked. He glared at her. “They’ll turn you into a killer, and for what? To fulfill some nonsense duty?”
“To protect our people,” Javelin hissed. “To provide for our family. To ensure a better future for you and father.”
“You already provide for us,” Lena argued. “We take care of each other.”
“The Fosse-Søfolk can give us more than my trading and your hunting ever could. Much more.” He sighed heavily and floated to her side. “I am afraid,” he confided quietly, “. . . of the orders I’ll be given. The things I’ll be expected to do. The dangers of the human world. But I can accept all that, if it means father can rest easier. If it means you can finally be the merrow you wish to be.”
“I’m exactly as I wish to be,” Lena said softly, her brow lifting with confusion.
“You can be a wife to someone, Lena,” Javelin murmured. “You can fulfill your duties as a daughter, and perhaps even see the world above. If you bind yourself to Asger . . .”
“I shouldn’t have to sacrifice my entire life just to see the surface,” Lena interrupted.
“Doesn’t it mean that much to you?”
A stillness pressed between them, despite the ever-flowing current.
Lena furrowed her brow at his question and carefully debated how to respond. Her desire to see the human world was a deep longing, like a fisherman’s line tugging her soul to the shore. She glided her gaze over the grotto, then raised her eyes to the beckoning sun. Deep in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist it forever.
“It does,” she decided. “But it doesn’t have to. Not while the power to travel ashore rests in my palm.”
She splayed her fingers in front of her chest. Javelin’s eyes dashed from her face to the stone in her hand.
“You can’t travel to the surface with that, Lena,” he said, panic lacing his tone.
“Why not? If I possess the stone of the gods . . .” She turned the idea over in her head.
“This is my stone. You’re not bound to a member of the Fosse-Søfolk. You’re not a part of the clan. Not yet.”
“But perhaps I will be soon. Shouldn’t Asger’s proposal be enough to grant me passage?”
Javelin shook his head. “You haven’t taken the vow of union, or the oath of the Fosse-Søfolk. If you were caught at the surface, you’d be put to death.”
“I won’t be caught,” Lena whispered, excitement coursing through her. “You said yourself there are humans nearby. The clan will be too busy hunting to notice me. I won’t be longer than a few minutes. Just long enough to see . . .”
“Marry Asger, and you won’t have to spy on the surface in secret,” Javelin rushed to say.
Lena shook her head. “I want to see it for myself,” she tried to explain. “I don’t want to know the human world as they know it.”
Images flooded her imagination—a vast sky, pale hues of blue stretching over the sea. A ribbon of sparkling white sand. A blinding sun, unobstructed by the murky haze of the sloshing waves above. The storybook world she’d always dreamed of. Not the nightmare of darkness, death, and blood which Asger had described.
Javelin’s features twisted with indecision. “You’ll put yourself in jeopardy. If Poseidon catches you, you’ll never return to us. To father, the cavern, or me.”
Perhaps it was selfish of her to desire something so forbidden; to be willing to risk everything just to see the surface. Lena swallowed her response, unwilling to hurt Javelin in such a deep way. But his piercing blue eyes seemed to understand what she was reluctant to say aloud. She had to see the world above just once—freely.
“Fine,” Javelin said on an exhale. “I’ll go with you.”
He scraped a hand through his blonde locks and moved toward the entry of the cave. Lena followed him, noting the grim resolve in his unrelentingly speckled eyes. Doubt filled her stomach as the fear of what they were about to do twisted inside.
“You’re sure about this?” Javelin asked, holding his hand out to her.
She paused. She was truly going to do this. She was going to see the surface—the humans. This is what she’d spent her entire life dreaming of.
“Lena?” He raised a brow.
Lena stared at his empty hand, contemplating the consequences of what they were about to do. She bobbed her chin and latched onto him, twining their fingers together.
Side by side, they slid out of the grotto and began to ascend.
7
“Keep up with me, Lena!” Javelin called as he peered over his chiseled shoulder. His strong silver tail pushed him through the current as they both swam up, up, up to the streaming sunshine above.
Lena’s aquamarine tail moved faster, jolting her forward. Her tiring arms were outstretched, pushing pools of the sea behind her as she tried to match Javelin’s pace. Overhead, the jewel of the sun began to glow brighter. Warmth flooded the waters, a stark contrast to the cooler sea below. They were getting close.
Lena’s heart began to race as fear and excitement skipped through her. Javelin slowed the rhythm of his tail until he came to a halt just below the rim of the sea. Lena swam into the space beside him. She linked their elbows and slipped the opal stone into his hand. Wariness filled Javelin’s eyes as he glanced at her.
“We can still turn back,” he said under his breath.
Lena shook her head and darted her plum gaze to the glittering stream of water directly above them. Javelin released a shaky exhale and gave one last, gentle push of his tail, pulling her al
ong.
He was the first to crest the surface, rising cautiously.
Lena thrust forth beside him.
The wind felt crisp and cool against her wet skin. Everything around them glittered against the waves of the sea. Her lungs stung as she took her first breath of crystal clear air.
“It’s hard to breathe,” she gasped, turning her panic-flecked eyes to Javelin. He lowered his lips to the rippling water, instructing her to do the same.
The relief was instant. Lena kept her mouth beneath the surface and passed her gaze slowly over the ceaseless sky. She squinted against the glare of the sun, so much brighter than she’d ever imagined it could be. Curious tufts of white drifted between its transient yellow beams. What were they, she wondered?
She lifted her chin from the water and drew in another icy breath. After a few moments of inhaling and exhaling the frigid air, the ache inside her chest began to lessen.
Beside her, Javelin rose up and twisted around, taking in the sights of the sky and sea. “There’s nothing but water as far as I can see,” he murmured. “There are no humans here. Perhaps the Fosse-Søfolk were mistaken.” He turned to face her, eyes rife with regret and relief. “We should go back now, Lena,” he said.
“But . . . this isn’t . . . I wanted to see them,” Lena stammered. This isn’t enough.
She crinkled her brow, remembering how the opal stone had hummed to life in the grotto. There must be humans nearby, somewhere. There had to be.
She lifted a hand, shielding her gaze from the sun. In the distance, nearly too far away to see, a speck of green and white humped up from the waves. “Perhaps if we swim toward land?” she suggested, pointing.
“I don’t want to chance it.” Javelin’s fingers tightened around hers. “Don’t you understand? You’ve not only broken the law of the king, but of the gods as well. You could die for this.”
“It’s only a short swim,” Lena argued. “We could see the land and the humans and then return to the cavern.” She searched his face, desperate for any sign of sympathy. “We’ll be safe. I know it.”
Between the Sea and Stars Page 4
