by Adalyn Grace
Vataea’s head falls back, and she laughs. It’s a delicious sound, sweeter than honey cake. It sends a warmth through my body that spreads through my cheeks and settles into my belly.
“My help?” she echoes. “I’ve never heard it called that before.”
I open my mouth, but Bastian pushes forward. “We need to borrow your magic. I have a ship. In exchange for your assistance, we’ll get you out of here and will release you once your help is no longer needed.”
“So you want to take me and use my powers?” Again, she smiles, thin and lethal. “How does that make you any different than Blarthe?”
She has no reason to trust us, and I don’t blame her. Whatever Vataea’s been through has made her cold and harsh. And yet I can see the smallest shimmer of hope light her face. She wants this to be a better option, and to get as far from Kerost as possible.
Her question causes Bastian to falter, but I want Vataea to trust us. “You’ll be well compensated for your time. Lend us your magic—and nothing more—for no longer than half a season. After that, we’ll drop you off wherever you wish, and you’ll be free to do as you please. As the Princess of Visidia, I give you my word.”
She leans back, assessing me. “You’re the daughter of the High Animancer?”
“I am.”
Blarthe responds before she does. “The mermaid belongs to me.” His once crisp voice goes hoarse, thick with rage and bile. “You want her, you buy her.”
I reach into my satchel to retrieve a handful of bones and skim them along the blood that sits on the tip of Bastian’s sword. I smile back at Blarthe. “And you belong to me. Consider yourself lucky if the only payment you receive is a spared life.”
Blarthe’s damp skin turns ruddier by the moment, fists clenching at his sides as he looks between me and the mermaid. Wrinkles begin to wither the smooth skin of his forehead while the surrounding men look on, no doubt wondering whether there will be another fight.
Bastian readies his sword while I lean closer to the fire, holding two bloodied finger bones.
Blarthe looks away, shoulders sagging with defeat.
Vataea’s grin could only be wider if Blarthe was on the floor struggling for his last breath—or maybe if this entire town was burning to the ground. I’ve no idea what she’s gone through, but my imagination tells me she has every right to want this man dead. I motion for Ferrick to bring her closer and she comes willingly.
She’s taller than I am by an inch or two, and I can practically feel the challenge roiling off her as she approaches.
Up close, Vataea is even more gorgeous. My throat closes and my palms sweat as she sizes me up.
“What do you say?” I have to choke the words out. “Do we have a deal?”
I stretch my hand forward, and the mermaid snatches it up. Her skin is smooth, hands so soft they make mine seem overworked.
“Your father was good to my people. He protected them when I could not,” she says. “I will agree to those terms. Half a season.” Her words are a song I could listen to all day, yet I force myself to clear my throat and turn my attention back to the situation before me. We got what we came here for, so it’s time to get off the island and back to Keel Haul. Preferably without dying.
I turn to Blarthe’s men. “Walk down the hall and wait there until we say you can move.”
The moment I step away from the fire, we’ll lose our leverage. Because of this, I have Bastian fetch me a rag from the bar, and douse the material with a bottle of rum. I wrap it around a poker that leans against the hearth, feed it to the flames, and watch my torch ignite. If they come after me, I’ve the fire I need to not go down without a fight.
I turn to Vataea and the others. “You three, start toward the door. And keep her safe, she doesn’t have a weapon.” I point to the exit. Both boys stare at me as though I’m a hydra’s third head.
“Bastian can take her, and I’ll stay with you. We’ll go together,” Ferrick argues.
He means well, but I fix him with a dangerous look until he caves and starts for the door. Slowly, holding the makeshift torch in front of me, I inch my way after them.
The men behind me stir against the walls, restless. They whisper their plans, and I try not to listen because the last thing I need is fear slowing me down. I take a swig of the rum, but don’t swallow.
“Get me back that mermaid, and I’ll return all the years you’ve ever lost,” Blarthe tells his men, too loud to ignore. “Don’t let them get away!”
The moment I’m at the door, Blarthe and the others lunge. I take a sharp breath through my nose, then spit the rum into the fire of my torch, breathing it like a dragon onto his skin. Around him, the other men stumble back and scatter.
I may not kill Blarthe tonight, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t suffer for his crimes until I return for him.
When his skin chars and distressed screams fill the night, I drop the torch and run.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pain stabs my calves as my feet slap against the cracking pavement. When my boots catch a stray rock and I roll my ankle, I bite through the searing pain, catch my balance, and push myself at full speed after the other three.
Vataea is surprisingly nimble on her feet. She and Ferrick lead the way through the winding alleys and mud. Bastian’s a few steps behind. He keeps looking over his shoulder at me, then past me. His grimace is enough to tell me I need to run faster.
Bastian reaches his hand back and I lurch forward to take it. He yanks me beside him with a grunt. The pain in my ankle swells deeper. Every step feels like a thousand needles stabbing into my flesh, but the bruises along Vataea’s back and the rags she wears assure me there’s no option but to run.
Bastian must sense something’s wrong because his grip tightens on my hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t let them touch you.”
I believe him. There’s something in his voice that fills the words with truth. Something in the way his touch sends shock waves through my body. I wrap my fingers tight around his hand and keep running.
Something swooshes through the air and nicks my ear. I gasp, the pain hot and searing. Three men close in behind us.
One of them sneers, chucking another rock toward me. I duck just in time, but the next one hits Bastian on the shoulder. His muscles seize and he grunts, but there’s nothing we can do. If we turn and fight, more men will join these three within minutes.
The ground softens beneath my feet as we reach the wet pebble shore, each step more slippery and more painful than the last. The stench of brine and seaweed fills the moist air.
Ferrick is already helping Vataea onto a dinghy. She looks back at us with a grimace and yells something indecipherable at Ferrick, pointing to the ties securing our boat to the land. He undoes them but stands with one foot on the pebbles and the other in the boat, holding it in place.
Bastian shoves me forward and I nearly fall face-first into Ferrick, who pulls me onto the dinghy. He gives it a firm kick into the water before falling into place beside me.
Bastian’s still running. One stone hits our boat while another smacks him in the head. He sways, and the men behind him draw their swords.
“Bastian, run!” I scream. He pushes forward as best he can. The ocean is to his knees by the time he reaches the dinghy and drags himself onto the cramped space. The dinghy rocks, threatening to tip us over, but I silently beg the ocean for its help.
Just this once, it listens.
Ferrick and I are quick to grab the two oars, but the men have followed us into the water. There’s still enough time for them to grab on to the dinghy and yank us back.
I spin to Vataea, who snarls at the approaching men. Her breaths are quick and feral.
“Do something!” I growl, pounding the oar into the water. I use every bit of strength left in me to propel us forward, away from the approaching men. Ferrick does the same, but the water is so shallow it’s hard to gain headway. The men lurch forward, trying to grab the edge of the dinghy. “Yo
u’ve a song that can control the sea, don’t you? Give us a wave or something!”
She jerks her focus to me, though her eyes slip to the water. They fill with longing as her breaths steady.
She’s going to leave us.
I want to reach for the cursed necklace in my boot to use on one of our pursuers, but I can’t tear myself away from rowing long enough to grab it. It’s useless in this fight.
A thin man with a scar over his eye dives forward and grabs on to the edge. He’s got a solid grip, but I whack the oar down on his hand with all my strength. The man draws it back with a hiss of breath.
“Please,” I beg Vataea through gritted teeth. “This kingdom needs us so much more than you know. Please, help us.”
She squares her shoulders and furrows her brows, never turning away from the ocean. My heart drops when she throws herself over the dinghy.
The moment she hits the water, the sea flashes an iridescent gold. The men following us curse. All but one throw themselves from our boat and bolt to the shore.
I catch a flash of tail fin beneath murky green water as the gold fades. Her fin is a startling rose gold; the tips shimmer bright as jewels, like a shining trinket I’m tempted to reach into the water and take. If not for the need to defend myself from the remaining pursuer, I might have followed after that fin.
“She’s leaving?” Ferrick asks breathily. “I thought we had a deal!”
While I fend off the men and their storm of rocks and hungry hands, he’s still rowing the other oar with everything in him. The water is less shallow by the second. It’s looking like we’re about to escape free and clear when the thin man throws himself at us again. I whack his hand once more, but this time he only grunts.
He reaches for my cape, latching onto it and trying to tip us into the water. I grab the dagger at my side, but Bastian has already drawn his blade. Ferrick, sickly and green, digs his oar through the waves and does his best to steady us.
“Get away from this boat now and we’ll spare your life,” Bastian says. His words slur, and I wonder how hard that stone hit his head.
“Give me the princess and I’ll spare yours,” the man replies. His eyes light with excitement as he tries to lunge past Bastian. He truly thinks he has us cornered, and he might be right. Bastian’s eyes keep crossing. The man reaches for me again and I claw my fingernails into his skin, trying to throw him off balance. We need to get him off the boat. We need—
Someone is singing. It’s a language I don’t understand, and a voice unlike any I’ve heard.
Forget honey, this is unparalleled sweetness and silk. Everyone stills, attention shifting to the mermaid who is only a few short feet away. She watches us with golden eyes that rest above the sea. Water clings to her smooth black hair, which floats around her like a dusky halo. Her lips are beneath the surface, but still her precious song calls to us.
Vataea’s eyes flicker briefly to my side. A signal. I force myself to break away and look at Ferrick and Bastian. Their faces are slack. They stare unblinking at the mermaid, lost in the trance of her song. Ferrick tries to stand, but I push him back down onto the dinghy’s small wooden bench. When Bastian moves to stand as well, I sigh and collapse into his lap while draping my feet over Ferrick’s thighs, locking him in place.
The mermaid’s spell is working too well. It’s everything I can do to keep them from chasing after her.
She lifts her lips out of the water. I try not to stare at how soft and full they are as she parts them, singing another verse.
The dinghy rocks as the skinny man throws himself away from the boat and swims toward the mermaid. Both Bastian and Ferrick try to do the same, but I grind my boots into the bench and stiffen my legs to keep Ferrick down. As for Bastian, I pinch his cheeks in my hands, trying to get him to look at me. He struggles, but I don’t let him turn away. His breath is warm on my lips. It takes me by surprise, softening my body enough for Bastian to knock me down as he stands. I rush to my feet, swaying the dinghy, and throw myself back on top of him and Ferrick.
“Kiss them,” the mermaid whispers, her words wrapping around me. The scrawny man has already reached her. She smiles as she holds his shoulders, body pressed close to his. “This song is one for anyone who can be seduced by a woman’s charm. So a kiss from a woman is the quickest way to break the spell. Here, I’ll show you.” She draws the entranced man forward and presses her lips against his. His fingers dig into her bare shoulders, pulling her against his body. It takes only a second longer before his eyes snap open in realization.
It’s already too late.
He tries to scream but the mermaid’s fingers sink into his skin as she drags his body beneath the water.
I’ve heard stories of what mermaids do with those they entrance. Some say they devour their hearts to prevent themselves from aging. Some say they drag sailors down to their home beneath the water and imprison them. And then there are some who say a mermaid doesn’t need a reason to drown anyone. They’ll tell you that mermaids do it for fun.
As Vataea disappears, I’m left with two men who are about to throw themselves after the mermaid if I don’t do something quickly.
I sigh, staring at Ferrick’s lips. I was always going to have to kiss them one day, but the time has come far too soon.
Ferrick doesn’t budge as I lean in and press my lips against his. He tastes like the sour ale he sipped on at Vice, lips soft and fuller than I gave him credit for. His hands twitch at my sides and settle on my hips, attempting to draw me in. He pulls my bottom lip between his teeth and bites it gently. It’s something that would normally elicit a heat in my belly, but while Ferrick’s a fine kisser, I feel nothing.
When I draw back he gasps for a breath, flushed from his forehead to his neck. He looks at me, but the expression is so surprised I’m not sure he recognizes what’s happening. I shift my attention to the pirate whose lap I’m sitting on.
Bastian’s skin is smooth as I cup his face in my palm, trying to draw his attention to me once more. He’s eyeing the water with an animalistic hunger that sets nerves crawling along my skin. I try to ignore why this makes me so anxious as I lean in and press my lips to his.
Bastian’s quicker to respond than Ferrick. His hand slides from my thigh to my waist, and then to my shoulder. He grips it tightly, crushing me to him. My entire body swells with warmth and I find myself kissing him back with the same urgency. Bastian’s other hand rests on my back and beneath my shirt, caressing my skin. His tongue brushes mine, tasting me, and chills pulse through my body like electricity.
This is how a kiss is meant to make me feel.
I have to force myself to pull away, sucking in a breath.
Bastian’s eyes are open, staring. His chest moves in quick, heavy breaths. When he realizes where his hands are, he clears his throat and draws them back to his sides. “I’m sorry,” he whispers breathlessly. I’m about to tell him it’s fine when his eyes move toward the water once more. “I thought you were…”
“Vataea,” I finish for him. The words hit me like a tidal wave. “You thought I was the mermaid.”
He ducks his head and opens his mouth to speak, but I don’t let him. I push myself from his lap and grab the oar, thankful for an excuse to look away. Painting a smile onto my lips, I begin to row. “She told me it was the quickest way to break the spell. The only thing you have to be sorry for is being so susceptible to a woman’s charm. The same goes for you, Ferrick.”
I turn to Ferrick, whose sharp face is turned from me as he rows. His shoulders are slumped as though an anchor is pulling him to the sea. My smile falters.
“The two of you were about to drown yourselves chasing after a mermaid,” I tell them, sharper and more defensive than I mean to be. “I had to kiss both of you, Ferrick.”
He balls his hands into fists and stuffs them against his sides. “Both of us. Right.”
I’m spared having to say more by the shifting water on my side of the dinghy. I lean over to spot the
mermaid, who peers up at me with large, enchanting golden eyes. Crimson blood stains her lips.
“Did it work?” she asks.
I nearly laugh, but the sound catches in my throat. “It worked.”
“Good. Then help me up.” She stretches her hand up, and my body tenses as I try not to stare. Somewhere in the ocean she’s lost her rags. I hand Bastian my oar and make both him and Ferrick turn away before I pull Vataea into the dinghy and offer her my cloak. The scales of her fin shed away and separate into two bare, scarred legs.
“That,” she says, “is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I’ve never been happier to see Keel Haul. I drag myself aboard and collapse onto the deck. I’m a suffocating fish, wet and quivering as I struggle to regain my breath. Every muscle in my body aches or throbs. My ankle is red and swollen while my biceps and hands burn. I’d ignored the searing pain in my arms to help row the dinghy, but now that I’m safe and aboard, I feel everything.
Ferrick is quick to crouch beside me, warm hands wrapping tight around my ankle. I brace myself as the injury flares, just for a second, then fades, leaving my skin warm and tingling.
“Thank you,” I tell him, but he turns away without looking me in the eye.
Though Bastian staggers as he walks, he hurries to draw up Keel Haul’s anchor and get the ship moving. “While I’m glad we’re alive, I’m pretty sure that could have gone a lot smoother.” He peels off his coat, grimacing at the splattered blood it’s painted with. Some of it’s his own, though Ferrick makes no move to heal him. His voice is still a bit thick, but ultimately Bastian appears to be stabilizing.
I clamp my jaw and turn to look at the mermaid, still wrapped tightly in my cape. Her eyes dance with delight as they dart around the ship. She reaches toward a ledge and smiles at the wood beneath her fingertips.
Bastian follows my gaze, and his expression darkens into one I can’t decipher. He clears his throat and the mermaid turns to him. Her smile is unwavering.