by Amy Bearce
A Division of Whampa, LLC
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© 2016 Amy Bearce
http://www.amybearce.com
Cover Art by Amalia Chitulescu
http://ameliethe.deviantart.com
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ISBN 978-1-62007-541-8 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-62007-545-6 (paperback)
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To Keira and Julia
he ocean never gave up. It just kept rolling in, no matter what else went on in the world. Phoebe Quinn liked to think she and the ocean shared that in common.
Today, Phoebe’s chest still heaved from her run down to the shore. The gut-wrenching memories had slithered into her mind again, setting off the panic. When those recollections came calling, four years dissolved in a heartbeat, leaving her a terrified ten-year-old all over again.
But she wasn’t ten anymore, she reminded herself, taking in a deep breath.
Phoebe perched on the edge of her favorite rock along her favorite coastline and tried to lose herself in the haunting call of the seabirds and the inevitability of the foaming waves. She knew she shouldn’t have disobeyed her big sister by coming here, but Phoebe couldn’t stay inside the house another minute. Besides, Sierra wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. She’d never know.
The salty tang of the coastal air usually lifted Phoebe’s spirits, but even the power of the ocean couldn’t quell her anxiety today.
She bit her lip, fixing her gaze on the horizon. When she’d arrived back home four years ago, Phoebe hoped she could forget what she’d suffered. And at first it seemed like everything was fine. Life went on, after all.
But the horrors she’d experienced in Elder Bentwood’s dungeon whispered in her mind more and more often. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d only been locked up for days; those few days felt like years. The vivid memories clung like the stench of a dead thing, growing increasingly difficult to ignore. Especially lately.
The sun would set before too long, already a ball of fire painting the sea with shades of pink and red. The forest hung back from the coast here, leaving a thin ridge of sand and rocks between the shady pine trees and the shoreline. A natural jetty in the middle of the cove reached out into the deeper waters, the boulders uneven as if sent tumbling like dice from a giant’s hand. Her favorite was the last in the row, where water lapped right along the edge during low tide. She loved to daydream there, nearly surrounded by water yet sheltered from the worst of the waves by the outcroppings further into the ocean. On the far side of the jetty, an inlet held a delightfully deep pool, cradled by boulders. Yet on the other side, the sandy shore was shallow, easing into the sea with a gentle, lazy slope. The cove was a cozy place, and Phoebe could use a little cozy now.
Sea foam sprayed her legs as the wind blew, and she shifted her position. Her knee twinged as she leaned on it, the same spot that ached in the cold. She ruthlessly ignored a vision welling up from the past: her leg bruised and purple, swollen like a sausage. That’s not reality. This is now. She closed her eyes and focused. The silence of the cove. The wind lifting her hair from her face. But she couldn’t quite resist touching her knee in affirmation. Strong, straight, supple. They hadn’t broken her. At least not her body.
When she took a deep breath and craned her neck to watch a gull spiral over the coast, a glimpse of white poking out from behind a small boulder alongside the pool caught her eye. A quick smile lit her face, lifting her dark thoughts.
Nothing brought peace and joy like her merfolk friends. Even though she was fourteen now, within shouting distance of adulthood, she still loved getting little gifts from Tristan, gifts given for no other reason than him thinking about her. The fact that her best friend and his sister, Mina, were merfolk was icing on the cake. Phoebe often wondered how she could be so surrounded by magic but remain so utterly and frustratingly non-magical herself. If she had even a sliver of magic, she was sure she’d never feel afraid or alone again.
What would the gift be today? A giant sand dollar or conch shell? A smooth white stone from the depths of the ocean? She pondered the possibilities as she rose and picked her away across the slippery moss-covered rocks to whatever lay hidden behind the boulder to her left. It wasn’t Tristan’s usual place to leave a surprise, but, then again, he liked to keep her on her toes. She grinned with anticipation and then jumped around the boulder, hands spread, ready to grab whatever delight lay waiting.
A strange shape floated in the water, half-laying on the rocks. That wasn’t a shell, no, and not a smooth stone, too many parts…
Phoebe’s mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what she saw. White sticks of some kind, tangled together, with the green of seaweed.
Then everything came together in her mind with a snap. Those weren’t sticks. They were polished bones.
The bones swirled in ripples that rolled between the rocks. Bits of sinew and cartilage held the skeleton together, but barely. Her scream was short but intense.
Phoebe gasped, gagged, and almost threw up. She forced a swallow and inched closer to the edge of the pool to get a better look.
The half-submerged skull grinning grotesquely looked human in the water, but a tail fin made it impossible to doubt what kind of creature this had actually been. The merfolk remains must have gotten caught in the inlet during low tide. Tristan and Mina needed to know right away. Maybe they would know if someone was missing.
A wave crashed along the shore, and the skeleton bobbed and turned over, revealing a giant black handprint marring the back of the skull. Phoebe sucked in a deep breath at the sight, the print shocking against the bleached white of the bone. Worse, the skull itself was crushed at the tip of each fingerprint. Spider-webbed cracks branched out from each puncture as if strong claws had punched right through the bone. This hadn’t been an accident. Phoebe fought the roiling nausea, trying not to fall to her knees. What could do something like this?
Maybe her friends would come if she sang. They often did, along with the youngest of the merfolk, the little seawees. Shivering, Phoebe returned to the end of the jetty and lifted her voice, focusing on the way the sound skipped across the water. She chose a haunting melody, though she generally preferred cheerful songs. Right now, a soulful dirge best suited the situation. She let herself explore the dark nooks and crannies of her fears and the horror of the moment, her gaze creeping toward the corpse over and over before she yanked her focus back to the ocean. She scanned the water for the familiar tails, then paused, chewing on her lip. Why weren’t they coming?
She hadn’t seen Tristan or Mina in three whole days. In the past, they visited more often, especially when they knew her sister was traveling and Phoebe would be alone. But as they grew older, work took more of their time. Merfolk took responsibility to their community very seriously.
They were probably working in the deeper waters now, in fact. She should swim out past the rocks to better try to call her friends, but the thought of sharing the same water with the dead body was too much. Besides, a few months back, she promised Sierra not to swim in the ocean anymore. At the time, such an irrational request had infuriated Phoebe. Today, that promise gave her a handy excuse.
“Tristan! Mina!” she called with her hands cupped around her mouth, leani
ng forward into the cove. Her friends seemed to have a special knowing when she called them by name.
The water began churning, signaling the arrival of someone, but her best friends were nowhere to be found. Tiny fins of a dozen seawees broke the surface as the little ones arrived to frolic. Mischievous grins beamed up at her from under the water as they waved, long hair floating about their heads.
She waved back, pleased to see them but alarmed at the possibility of them finding the skeleton. The little ones had come daily when Phoebe first returned from Bentwood’s dungeon, but she hadn’t seen them often these days, either.
Luckily, they stayed a bit out to sea, squealing in delight when she began an upbeat tune for them. Next to the little ones, a green tail slapped the water, larger than the others. A bronze flipper broke through the surface beside it. Tristan and Mina were here. Phoebe smiled with relief, but then her grin faded. She dreaded giving them the bad news.
The space between her shoulder blades prickled. She glanced uneasily behind her. Was someone there? But then Tristan popped out of the water next to her, his dark green hair streaming over his shoulders. He waved at her and shook his head, sending his wet hair flying. Brisk droplets sprinkled Phoebe’s homespun dress. He did that on purpose, no doubt. He chortled at her, but since he was out of the water he only produced a guttural coughing noise. The deep green scales covering his tail ended at his waistline. Once he became an adult in merfolk society, ink-black tattoos would decorate his torso and arms, but for now, his chest was starkly pale beneath the water.
He was thinner than in the past, his ribs outlined along his sides. His twin sister, Mina, arrived a half-second later, her black hair a shocking contrast to her pale skin gleaming like an opal, also missing the tattooed marks of adulthood. Her bronze scales ran up her body from her tail to directly under her arms. It reminded Phoebe of the fancy strapless evening gowns worn by wealthy ladies in the biggest port cities. Though Mina, too, appeared more tired than usual, they were both still beautiful. The gills of their necks were dark slashes across their pallor, but their green eyes twinkled. Phoebe hated the thought of stealing the light from their eyes.
The idea of touching the water made her skin crawl, but there was no other way for them to speak together. The cold sting lasted only a second as Phoebe lay on her belly atop the rock, leaned her head over the edge, and lowered her face below the water without hesitation, bubbles sliding over her cheeks.
Her friends’ green eyes darkened to solid black as they used magic to allow her to breathe. Phoebe understood the magic they could lend to her far more than the first terrifying time Tristan held her thrashing under the water during her escape from Elder Bentwood’s fortress.
“Greetings, my friends!” she said. “I’m afraid I have some terrible news. You should send the seawees away; this isn’t anything they should hear.”
Tristan’s grin faded as he examined her face. Phoebe had a moment of discomfort as she met his gaze. He’d grown from a cute little seawee to a very cute young merman over the last four years.
Mina swam to the little seawees swirling like otters in the water. “Go on home, now. You know your parents don’t like you to be gone for long! And you aren’t supposed to come to shore anymore!”
This was news to Phoebe. Why not? Did it have something to do with the body? At least it explained the strange absence of seawees over the recent weeks.
The little ones looked at Phoebe, lips pouting, but obeyed, scurrying away with speed. With a small smile softening her demand, Mina shook her head at the little ones as they retreated. Her amusement slid away as she returned to her brother and Phoebe. It was odd for Phoebe to see such a somber expression on Mina instead of her usual jovial one.
“Phoebe, what’s going on?” Tristan asked.
A lump sat heavy in Phoebe’s stomach. “Something washed up near the shore today. Something upsetting.”
The two merfolk exchanged anxious glances.
Tristan asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I found… a body. A merfolk’s body. A skeleton, really. It washed up into the rock pool, and it clearly has a tail. I’m so sorry.”
Their faces looked like she had struck them, eyes wide and faces paler than usual.
“There’s more,” Phoebe added, miserably.
“Worse?” Tristan asked, his voice hoarse. The reddish hue of the sunset turned his green hair a strange shade of brown, a sickly hue quite different than the usual vibrant color.
She nodded. “The death looks intentional. There are strange marks on its skull and, well, holes. Like claws punched through it, while gripping the head.”
“Where?” Mina whispered, hands pressed to her cheeks.
“No, Mina, you don’t need to look,” Tristan said.
“Don’t be a fool, brother. We’re doing this together,” she said, though she looked ill.
The two exchanged a knowing glance, and Phoebe felt a stab of envy. Sierra will never treat me like an equal.
Phoebe lifted herself from the water and gestured to the inlet, standing up to point them to the body. The twins skirted around the skeleton. Tristan hesitantly touched the arm bone with one hand and shivered. Both leaned over the skull, examining the ruined back. They exchanged another long look. What did that mean? They returned to Phoebe, and she dipped her head underwater again.
“This body looks old, being stripped so bare, but I admit I’ve never seen dark marks like that or the crushed parts of the bone,” Tristan said.
“What could do such a thing?” Phoebe whispered.
“There are many predators in the deep that would leave just bones, but we know of nothing that could burn into a skull, if that’s indeed what happened. It can’t be anything good,” Mina said.
Tristan smacked his sister on the arm.
Alarm raced through Phoebe. “So, you’re in danger?”
Tristan offered a reassuring smile and shook his head. “Our village is protected. You don’t need to worry for us. But the elders will need to know. This merfolk must have gone off on his or her own.” His voice trailed off for a moment.
“And needs a proper ceremony to be put to rest,” Mina said. They both bowed their heads, and Phoebe, feeling awkward and uncertain, followed suit. She’d been fascinated by the merfolk from the first moment she met Tristan, when he helped rescue her from Bentwood, but there was still so much she didn’t understand about them.
“Come back tomorrow morning, please, and tell me what you learn,” Phoebe begged. She’d never stop worrying without knowing if he―they―were safe from whatever caused the death of the poor merfolk.
“We must work from early in the morning, unfortunately. We could come at our noon break… but your sister is coming home tomorrow, is she not? She wouldn’t be pleased to see you back here with us, especially with the sad remains you’ve found.”
“I’ll take care of Sierra. Don’t worry.”
Tristan quirked his eyebrows. “She is very fierce.”
“Maybe I can be, too.”
Mina laughed, and Phoebe flushed.
“Apologies, sweet friend,” Mina said after Tristan gave her a scowl. She spread her hands wide. “I mean only that your nature is so kind and sweet, I find it hard to see you engaging in combat. With a heart like yours, to wound another is to wound yourself.”
Feeling only slightly mollified, Phoebe said, “Sierra’s got plenty to worry about already. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Tristan’s eyes grew wide. The dark marks under them were lilac half-moons. “You surprise me, Phoebe. I thought you honored your sister.”
She flushed. “I do―but you know how she overreacts.”
“Much like our family,” Mina said dryly.
“Are they still upset because of our friendship?” Phoebe frowned.
“It’s not you,” Mina replied. “They just can’t forget how many generations of merfolk lived in slavery to humans. And then that poor seawee died recentl
y in the fishing nets of humans who ignored our new treaty. Some of our people are angrier at humans more now than ever, but that has nothing to do with you. Those old barracudas wouldn’t like you even if you were the most perfect person in all of Aluvia, which you are!”
“I’m sorry if our friendship has caused you grief―” Phoebe began, but Tristan cut her off.
“Please don’t worry, Phoebe. We know how to manage our families as you do. But I do think Sierra would want to know your daily habits. She loves you.” He smiled, softening the slight chiding.
Well, Sierra might want to know, but this was one time she didn’t need to know.
“If you meet me at noon, I’ll be back before she is. Her journeys have been running longer now that some people want to use nectar again. They’re already forgetting how bad things were. I’m afraid she’s hiding how serious the trouble is becoming. It seems even on short trips, she’s always late these days, arriving at dinnertime at least. And when she’s home, she spends most of her time in the forest with her fairies, anyway.”
She tried to keep the hurt from her voice, but must not have succeeded. Tristan shook his head ruefully.
He said, “You know you are her world, Phoebe. She gave up everything for you, fought for you, saved you―”
“You saved me, too.”
This time, Tristan’s face flushed, bringing delicate rose to his pale cheeks. “I did only what was right and just. Anyone would have.”
No, they wouldn’t have, Phoebe knew. She studied his familiar face, remembering the hectic underwater flight from Bentwood’s, the way her gaze had locked on Tristan’s when they said goodbye, as if something bound them. The same tension built between them now.
Mina cleared her throat. “We must go take care of this sad situation, Phoebe,” she said, “but we’ll come back tomorrow when the sun is at its zenith.”
“Promise?” Phoebe replied, looking over to include Mina.
“We would never lie to you,” Tristan said, eyes serious.
Phoebe smiled at him, thankful that Tristan, at least, didn’t see her as a frail tag-a-long little sister. She gazed into his eyes and felt a flutter that had become familiar over the last year. She briefly wondered if one day he might see her as more than a childhood friend. Of course, that was just a dream. They lived in different worlds, even if she was able to visit theirs now and again.