World of Aluvia 2

by Amy Bearce

  “And what else lives in the midnight realm?” Phoebe’s voice was a mere whisper. This plan had sounded better before they faced the unlit waters.

  “Sea dragons. Water horses. Sea snakes. Giant squids. Things of legends, really. I think it would be unwise to enter there, with just the two of us.”

  Phoebe was relieved to hear it. Being eaten by a giant squid would help no one. “Maybe if we stay here, we’ll see the wraith leaving or returning.”

  They waited in silence on the edge of the city for what felt like the change of several tides, though surely not even half a day had passed. Tristan doused his light, and the water was dark enough to make her tired. Phoebe’s eyelids grew heavy, and Tristan’s muscles relaxed as they leaned against the outer wall of a half-collapsed tavern. No one made her feel as safe like he did. His warmth where they touched kept half her awareness occupied, so she startled when he clamped his hand onto her arm.

  “There,” he said, pointing ahead.

  A wraith swam from the cave entrance, moving toward them. The waters were so dark even along this slice of twilight realm that the frightening creature appeared as a shadow at first and bloomed into full color slowly, like a painting in process: an arm appearing, followed by its head, and a tail not far behind. It was much larger than Phoebe remembered.

  Then another wraith exited the cave and joined the first, just as large, just as hideous.

  She sucked in a long breath. One had been bad enough, but two? Did the creatures see or sense them? Her pulse picked up. Should she be concerned that the wraith they were hunting had found its way to where she was, along with another? Who was hunting whom?

  However much a legend these creatures were, there was no denying that something had provided enough magic to awaken them. They had been feeding off merfolk, but something else had to wake them in the first place. Phoebe gazed at the swimming beasts with horror. Perhaps with the rise of magic on land, because of Sierra’s efforts, there was a correlating rise under the sea, feeding sleeping beasts such as these. And others. Her stomach roiled.

  “Don’t move,” Tristan said.

  The wraiths floated near the city, practically lounging along the edge with lazy flicks of their tails, skirting the line of the buildings as if seeking something. Tristan and Phoebe followed them, slinking from one hiding place to another.

  Either of the wraiths could have been the exact creature that grabbed Phoebe earlier; they were identical.

  When the creatures reached what looked to be an open courtyard with a tall obelisk in the middle, they sped up and entered the city. No glowing light shot forth from the ground or through the water when the creatures crossed the city line, but the wraiths hissed and hunched their shoulders, as if remembering a time when they could have been rebuffed from entering. Faint glimpses of sunlight filtered through the shadowy kelp and seaweed, like ghosts sliding among a haunted forest.

  “Shouldn’t those things burn up from being in the ancient city or something?” Phoebe whispered, feeling cold not from the water around her but from the glowing red eyes visible even at this distance.

  “Whatever magical shields the ancients once created are long gone. The magic remains, spread throughout the water, but not useful to us. We’ve lost the skill of gathering it and guiding it.”

  She shuddered as she stared at the wraiths, now rubbing their backs against the buildings as if marking their territory.

  “Ugh,” she whispered.

  “They are still part of our ocean, too, Phoebe, though they must feed on magic, unlike our people. In some ways, I pity them.”

  Clearly, he was crazy, just your average peace-seeking, soft-hearted merfolk. No wonder this big impressive city eventually fell. Merfolk weren’t interested in conquest, even with magic on their side against an evil foe. If those wraiths weren’t evil, Phoebe didn’t know what was.

  One water wraith reached out a clawed hand and snagged an electric eel swimming by. The eel sparked in the water as it tried to fight back, but it failed. The wraith gulped it down in one smooth swallow like a child of Aluvia might slurp up a noodle.

  “Wow.” Phoebe had no words for her revulsion. “Guess not even lightning would kill these things, huh?”

  “Not much slays them,” Tristan said, grimacing. “If the tales are to be trusted, they must be pierced through the heart. They can even live without their heads for a while.”

  She shuddered again. The two water wraiths twined around and around each other like snakes―if snakes had claws and shark-like teeth. If the creatures spotted the two of them hiding in the seaweed, no doubt those claws and giant mouths would be the last thing she saw.

  Then she felt something that made the two wraiths look as charming and nonthreatening as goldfish.

  The water grew even darker, a deep shadow looming over the sea floor as something oozed around the mouth of the cave that hugged the side of the city. Whatever it was didn’t leave the cave, but somehow its presence sank through the water anyway, filling the chasm between the tower and Lyr’s edge, reaching bony fingers to where they hid. The wraiths did a sort of dance and zipped toward the shadow.

  Dread sank into Phoebe like sand spilling into an hourglass, filling her stomach, choking her.

  “I’ve seen that shadow before.” It was the one from her vision. That darkness was far too familiar to be anything else. She held tightly to Tristan’s hand as her head buzzed, fear making his voice in her ear sound furlongs away.

  “Don’t. Move,” he whispered.

  She couldn’t have if she needed to.

  Red light shimmered around the dark shadow inside the cave’s entrance. The sullen hue of the creature shone even through the seaweed, casting a sickening shade of blood red on her skin. The shadow rippled, and a low rumble flowed from the cave.

  The rumble was like an earthquake, every agony she ever felt. It lodged in her heart like a sword. And twisted. Her vision of the shadow hadn’t prepared her for this.

  Piercing pain overwhelmed Phoebe as the noise reverberated down her spine, filling her with her worst memories and fears. It was being beaten by Donovan and believing her sister had died. It was being left behind time and time again through misguided good intentions. It was losing Tristan to the evil gaping maw of the creature before her. It was being trapped here forever to die without her sister ever knowing what had happened.

  Phoebe wondered why she was here, in this dangerous place. She couldn’t quite remember. Clearly, nothing in this world was worth fighting for.

  She began to sink to the sandy bottom, ready to die, but something stopped her. What was holding onto her? She glared up to see a young merman, still not quite an adult, bent over at the waist. His glorious green fin was curled up like a beaten dog’s. But he still gripped her hand. She stared at their clasped hands, at his stark white skin, at the way their fingers wove together. Something clicked.

  Tristan.

  Her best friend. Her secret sweetheart.

  She forced herself to look up again at the menacing shadow stretching along the ground before them. She couldn’t quite see. Her vision flickered. She thought the two wraiths carried the huge and shadowy thing from the cave farther into the waters, leaving the cliff, fading into the distance of the deeper midnight realm as if they had slipped through a hole in a wall.

  Tristan and Phoebe stayed frozen in place until the giant shadow with its escort eventually withdrew so far into the midnight realm that even its red light disappeared. The roar faded, leaving her mind able to function, though it still spun with terror.

  The merfolk are up against that? Phoebe thought. They’ll die. We’ll all die. The music that always hummed softly in the back of her mind had gone silent. There was no music in the world that could fight the darkness that creature brought with it.

  She searched Tristan’s face, which was drawn with fear even she could read. His hand gripped hers so tightly that her fingertips were beginning to tingle. She wiggled her fingers slightly, and he start
led, dropping her hand and murmuring, “Sorry.”

  “Was that the beast? Baleros?”

  He hesitated. “I want to say no. Baleros is just a children’s story, but so were water wraiths. Maybe that was the ancient beast. Whatever it was is far worse than the wraiths. The stories of Baleros sound similar, the way he manipulated emotions, the way he stole the will of the merfolk in the ancient city, before taking their magic.”

  He gulped.

  “Did it make you remember the worst things in your life?” she whispered.

  He pursed his lips. “And see terrible things that haven’t happened yet. And won’t.”

  “But it’s gone now. Let’s go tell what we saw. The sooner they question you in the temple, the sooner they can take action.”

  “We need to look in that cave and see if we can find any proof to take back with us.”

  “They won’t believe you? You told me the temple light would prove you told the truth.”

  “Water wraiths are one thing. Baleros is beyond the pale. But I didn’t really see anything that was for sure Baleros, and the light will force me to say so. We only know we saw something monstrous. If I claim something as outrageous as Baleros, I’d better be certain, and it’d be best to have proof,” he replied with a dour expression.

  Shock dropped her jaw. Even after experiencing the most fear either of them ever had, he was ready to keep going, for his people’s safety. Tristan was the bravest person she knew.

  On impulse she leaned forward and pressed a light kiss against his cheek. Just a soft brush of lips, as she had kissed her friend Corbin a hundred times, a quick hello or goodbye, a mark of friendship to a boy who was like a brother to her.

  This kiss wasn’t anything like that.

  It was awkward.

  Shocking.

  Delicious.

  Somehow all at once.

  Heat flashed across her face as she pulled back. He looked stunned.

  He covered his cheek with his hand. “What was that for?”

  “For being you.” The words came out before she could stop them.

  Tristan took her hands, wrapping them gently in both of his, a furrow between his brows. Was he upset? Or moved? She couldn’t tell.

  He gazed at her for a long moment, an odd look on his face she couldn’t place.

  “Phoebe, I hope you know by now how dear you are to me,” he began, with his voice soft and earnest.

  Her hands trembled inside his grasp. Hope and dismay chased each other round and round.

  She shouldn’t have kissed him; she kicked herself with an internal groan. She’d only muddied the waters (though truth be told, she would cherish that small moment always).

  Yet she had to leave him soon. They both knew it. They had no future, three times over: she was human, her strange powers might be manufacturing their feelings, and his elders hated her. She didn’t think she could bear to hear him confess true feelings for her now, not when such a thing was forbidden.

  Before she could pull back or change the topic, he paused.

  He looked down and tightened his grip, steadying her shaking hands.

  “Forgive me,” he murmured. “This must be a terrible time for you. This isn’t the time or place for such discussions. I know how the panic sometimes attacks you even now. We’ll do what we need to do and go. Together,” he said. He squeezed her hands.

  She smothered a slightly hysterical laugh. She had been terrified by the evil darkness, though her hands weren’t shaking from that. Her own powerful emotions for Tristan had done so, but she’d let him draw the wrong conclusions.

  Besides, maybe she was fooling herself. He’d never flat-out said he cared for her as a future bondmate, had he? Only her wistful mind had supplied that unspoken feeling. Maybe he had been preparing to say he could never love her that way, not with her humanity. Or with this alluring magic confusing their relationship. Or maybe he just thought of her as a sister. Better to move on, at least for now. She had her pride. And her heart could only take so much trauma.

  “I’m fine,” she announced. And she would be. Eventually. “Let’s go.”

  Tristan smiled, the tension around his eyes softening. Phoebe called up her favorite tune and let it run through her mind for a moment. Even if it was only inside her, music was a reminder that life was not only made up of danger and misery but was full of hope and joy, too. Facing the frightening cave seemed less impossible now.

  “Can I tell you something?” Tristan whispered as they set off toward the cave.

  “Of course.”

  “I’m glad you insisted on coming. I feel much braver when I’m with you.”

  Oh.

  Warmth chased away a bit of the chill that had settled over her like a cloak.

  She squeezed his hand. “Me, too.”

  Saying it out loud made her feel even braver. It was just as well. They’d need every last drop of courage they could find.

  nside the entrance to the cave, the moonglow of Tristan’s skin returned, allowing them to examine the space without having to enter far. They wanted to be able to escape immediately if the terrifying presence returned. Their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, but the cave was deep, swirling with skinny, tall grasses and glowing mushroom-like things. Blinking eyes gleamed from pockets along one wall, and the two of them avoided those areas. They could see the back of the cave, half-shrouded in darkness, with Tristan’s skin at its brightest. She wanted to run her fingers along his arm, to see what would happen to the light, but she resisted. If ever there wasn’t a time for such a thing, it was now.

  Phoebe looked hard into the darkness of the cave, trying to concentrate on their goal. She noticed a strange shape in the far corner.

  “Uh, Tristan, what’s that lump over there?” she asked, voice barely audible.

  It didn’t take getting much closer before they realized the lump was a merman. Or what was left of him. Phoebe couldn’t quite stifle a cry at the sad sight of the skeletal husk floating in the water, as if he had been starved for many weeks before arriving here. The skull was completely bone, not a tuft of hair or skin left. However, tattoos of starfish linked with swirling lines were still visible on the shriveled skin of the arms and chest. This skeleton wasn’t as bone-bare as the one that had washed up on the shore, but the similarity of the destruction was too close to be missed.

  “I know that tattoo pattern. That’s Liam’s father, Aedan, who’s been missing since the last full moon.” Tristan’s voice quaked.

  “Did he look… so shriveled when you last saw him?” Phoebe whispered.

  Tristan’s eyes were huge, his hands shaking. “No. No, he didn’t.”

  Phoebe swam over to the back of the body and gasped. “Look at this! He has the same marks! The handprint that looks like a scorch mark, the holes in the skull. That must mean―”

  “The wraiths or the shadowed creature stole his life energy. Both were in here. That must be what’s been taking our people,” Tristan muttered. “All those missing merfolk! This thing must be stopped!”

  “Tristan, if this thing destroyed the ancient merfolk, I think stopping him might be beyond you and me,” she said, eyes still straining toward the cave opening, into the distance where the red light had gone.

  “It sucked him dry. The one you found at the coast, too. We have to do something.”

  “Like what?” she asked, as gently as she could.

  “I have no idea, not if my people insist on playing the fools.” He smacked his hand against the side of the cave. His light faltered, and her heart skipped a beat. Complete darkness in this cave would be more than she could bear. She grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Now, come on.”

  She pulled him to the cave entrance, hurrying. If she had been above water, her skin would be clammy with terror and sweat, but here, all that betrayed her was a galloping heart.

  They almost made it.

  A water wraith blocked the opening and
smiled a slow, razor-sharp smile. Phoebe jerked to a stop so quickly that Tristan slammed into her back, sending them both spinning toward the wraith.

  Dark green and blue blurs zoomed by as Phoebe careened out of control. She tried to kick her legs and stop her movement but instead kicked the wraith, sending it flying backward just far enough for her to turn and swim away toward the city.

  “Phoebe! Go!” Tristan yelled, but she couldn’t catch a breath to reply.

  Something grabbed Phoebe’s waist, squeezing so hard that her back arched, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Claws raked along her sides. All she could see was her own hair, red as blood, obscuring her vision until the creature growled and the pressure suddenly released. Tristan must have done something to it. Thank goodness she wasn’t alone. But panic grabbed her by the throat when a hoarse shout ricocheted around her. She knew the shout came from Tristan, sensed it like a zap of lighting along her skin. The water wraith was hurting him.

  Rage shouldered aside panic, and she swung her head around, trying to get a good look at the snake-like creature so she could scratch out its eyes.

  “Stop,” she yelled, not even thinking about what she was doing. She just knew that monster had to stop hurting Tristan. Her arms shot out, hands spread wide.

  Phoebe locked gazes with the water wraith. It didn’t have Tristan in its hands, but he was nearby and shouting at her to flee. She couldn’t leave him. She had to fight through her fear. Concentrate, Phoebe! The sound of waves filled her ears, as it had once before when she first believed she could have power.

  “Go. Away,” Phoebe told it grimly. If she could draw merfolk to her on accident, she should be able to drive the water wraith away on purpose.

  The wraith’s red eyes blinked, as if dazed. It paused, just for a second, as if it had forgotten what it was supposed to be doing. Yes! For a moment, victory filled her, but then the creature shook its head and reached toward her face, slowly, like a sleepwalker. Phoebe swam back, and terror burst through her brief moment of certainty. She failed, but she didn’t want to die, not yet.