by Starla Night
“Call me,” he said in his first message and repeated the refrain in the next messages with increasing desperation. “Ty needs those pressure plates! He’s constructing the Friendship Float, don’t you know? On the stage they signal to blast the flowers. The welcome speech is in two days. I was the one who said you could borrow them. If he doesn’t get them back, you’ll have to dredge the harbor for my body because he’s going to kill me!”
Oops.
Her phone blinked red.
She called Brody. “Sorry! The pressure plates are still in my trunk. Where can I meet you?”
“Just go straight to the dock warehouse.” He gave her the directions. “I’ll meet you there. But Milly, whatever you do, don’t—”
The call ended.
“Brody?” She lifted the phone from her ear. Its screen flashed as the phone shut down.
Out of battery.
She blew air out between her lips.
Uvim. Uvim. Uvim.
She craved to see him. She needed to be with him. She was his bride — his queen — and they were meant to be together. She needed to find him and prove it.
Her doubts had held her back before. She’d let Zara steamroll her. He’d run away to escape the pain.
She would soothe his pain and then jump him.
They would never part again.
She’d go home, grab a shower and change clothes, and then Uvim.
If Zara still stood in her way, Milly would demand she live up to her responsibility. Defend her island and her warriors from the merman-killing cult and anyone else who represented a threat.
That’s right. Her warriors.
Zara’s warriors. And also Milly’s.
No vandalizing, dynamite-fishing jerks interfered with her responsibility.
But returning things was responsible, so she drove to the dock warehouse. It was only a few blocks from the main harbor in a rundown lot behind an ancient fort.
Brody’s cousin Ty stood outside. He was college-age like her, but in yellow-beige bib overalls and work boots, he didn’t fit the college tourist look. He’d worked on a yacht last year and stuck around.
She’d met him a handful of times. Sandy-brown hair, greasy hands, and sky-blue eyes. He had a snub nose and too many freckles to be handsome.
Handsome?
That was unfair to Ty. His girlfriend probably found him handsome. Milly had fallen for a male with olive green skin. She wasn’t exactly an expert.
“Thanks for letting me borrow the plates.” She opened her trunk. “Where did you want them?”
“This way.” He walked off without offering to help.
Huh. She used to like that. But now, she was used to Uvim helping. Ty was rude.
She lifted the heavy plates with her core and staggered after him.
He led her into the warehouse. Cool shadows hid sinister secrets. Dusty boxes tumbled onto rickety carts. Outside the warehouse were a small dock and a boat.
The wooden hull looked too old to float but the sculpture on top was new — two quasi-human people splashing together like waves.
He directed her to put the pressure plates on one cart.
She heaved them in a great sigh. It would have been nicer if they’d brought the cart out to the sedan. But whatever.
Milly waved out the ocean-facing doors. “Is that the Friendship Float?”
Without an answer, he pushed the big hangar doors together, hiding the view, and locked it with a pin.
Okay.
She turned away. “Well, I’ll be—”
“Just a minute.” He scurried past. “Need to get something out of the office.”
She took the extra minutes to inspect the boxes.
Some were open. Big, poufy bags spilled long, white candles. Other boxes held ice. Colorful flower petals trailed across the bare concrete.
Ty brought out a canister of compressed air and a roll of duct tape.
“Almost ready for the parade, huh?” she said.
“Almost.” He set the duct tape on a box. A sly smile stole across his thin mouth. “Got some use out of the plates?”
“Did Brody tell you?”
“He doesn’t tell me a thing.”
“Oh.”
Ty brushed off the canister. Not compressed air. It was an air horn.
“And that was the root of my troubles,” she said.
He toyed with it, eying her. “I know.”
“You know?”
He seemed to stall.
Maybe because she was tired of swimming for days and was suddenly starving. She wanted to finish this. “How do you know?”
His sly smile returned. “I was there.”
Wait. “What?”
A rattle of the far doors, closest to her car, shoved one open and Brody pushed in. Alarmed. “Milly! You’re inside.”
She backed away from Brody’s weirdly smiling cousin. “Well, you said Ty needed these or else.”
“Yeah, but I thought you’d wait out — Ty, don’t!”
Ty held the air horn to her head. “She’s one of them.”
What?
Was Ty threatening her?
With an air horn?
“Uh,” she said.
“Ty, stop it!”
One of the boxes was painted with a small triangle logo.
The anti-merman cult!
She gasped. “You’re one of them.”
Ty snickered. “Let’s see how much you changed.”
BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Pain boxed her ears.
Noise reverberated.
She clapped her hands over her ears. Too late. The sound echoed.
“Milly?” Brody asked, his voice raised over the cottony silence.
“Okay!” she shouted. “Now, I’m obviously deaf.”
Ty’s smile fled.
She turned her back on him and marched past a shocked Brody. Her heart thumped faster and faster.
Ty and Brody were with the cult.
Brody knew about the dynamite. He’d been so angry on the tour boat and yet he’d known all along.
She had to stay calm, walk out of here, and go straight to the police.
Just stay—
The world shuddered. Weird colors flooded her vision like a film negative exposed to light. The floor wavered in and out of focus.
Had she put in her contacts? Weren’t they still in the emergency travel case under the front seat?
The floor lurched.
Earthquake!
Her feet stumbled into molasses.
Milly threw out her hands to break her fall.
But her hands didn’t respond. They hung like lead weights at her sides.
She tipped.
The world turned black long before she hit the ground.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Uvim swam the length of Horta’s main harbor, weaving between dock pillars and darting beneath docked yachts. His biceps and thighs bristled with daggers. He held his trident snug to his side.
No dynamite.
He reversed and swam in the opposite direction.
No dynamite.
He stowed his weapons in a cave next to a barnacle-coated pillar, surfaced at the end of the dock, and heaved himself onto the wood. Water sloshed out of his lungs. He shifted to human with a shallow cough.
Humans backed out of his way in surprise.
He tossed his towel over his broad shoulders, toed on his flip flops, and pushed sunglasses up his nose. His waterlogged shorts drained water.
Now, he looked like one of them.
Uvim crossed the dock to the land and wove through the crowd.
Deep unease chilled his rib cage like icy water. The unease had seeped in yesterday. Today, his stomach hurt and he had no desire for food.
Was his body punishing him for remaining away from Milly so long? Her absence made his soul sick?
Their souls had connected. So, perhaps.
Xalu stood in the shadow by the stage. Officials flutt
ered around completing the final arrangements. He watched over the entire harbor from his vantage point.
“No bomb in the boat launch,” Uvim reported.
Dosan emerged and scrambled up the rock wall. He wore his human disguise. But the crowd still parted.
He joined them. “No bomb beneath the boats anchored in the middle of the harbor.”
Xalu frowned. “I will swim the length of the sea wall to the breakwater.” He walked into the crowd.
The crowd parted for him as humans stumbled backward, spilling drinks, to get out of his way.
He dove off the elevated concrete platform into the water. Xalu would make a large loop patrolling the sea wall, ferry terminal, cross the harbor’s entrance, and patrol the breakwater wall to his starting point.
Since the dynamite at the octopus colony, they knew the tastes of the plastic, fuse, and explosive powder. It was easy to sense. While swimming the harbor these past five days, they had discovered much human trash but no bomb.
The police inspector neared Uvim. He sweated in a dark suit. “Any dangers?”
“None yet,” Uvim confirmed.
The inspector frowned. “I wish that would mean the threat was empty. But we cannot hang our hopes on empty wishes.” He clicked his pen, a nervous habit, and waded back into the crowd.
Dosan pulled his T-shirt on. “I wish the threats would be empty. Then we could go to Dragao Azul in peace.”
“You must not leave before the welcome speech.”
He eyed Uvim. “I will listen with respect.”
Dosan feared Uvim would order him once more to give the speech.
But Uvim would not.
He had promised Milly. As the days passed without her, the burning agony in his heart had transformed into a rock-hard will.
He would deliver her speech. He would speak the words the humans needed to hear. It would move her heart. The mer and humans would become friends.
Milly would know his love. She would forgive him for running. And she would once more accept his claim as his bride.
The committee chair stopped in their shade. “It’s speech time! Don’t leave.”
He nodded his understanding.
The committee chair climbed the stage steps.
Milly must come to Dragao Azul and marry him in front of the Life Tree. She must.
His words would woo her.
He swore it.
Dosan’s bride, Jen, wove through the crowd. Ian and Bride Sydney trailed behind her. Bride Jen offered her phone. “Uvim, your queen is calling.”
His Milly?
He snatched the phone. “Milly?”
“No, I’m not Milly.” Queen Zara’s imperious voice bit into his ear with a hard edge.
He stiffened.
“Where is she?” Queen Zara demanded.
But Queen Zara had ordered him away from Milly. Why would she ask him Milly’s location? Was this a test?
“Hello?” Queen Zara snapped. “Are you there?”
He forced the hard word past his lips. “Yes.”
“Then answer me. Where is she?”
Uvim ground his teeth. He had wronged Queen Zara. It justified her anger. “I obeyed your orders and left my bride in your care.”
“Days ago.”
“Yes.”
“Wait.” In her surprise, Queen Zara’s tone and phrase echoed Milly. “She left that day to talk to you. After our fight. She didn’t talk to you?”
The uneasy cold roiled his stomach. “No.”
“But you both summoned Dragao Azul’s army.”
“No.”
“Well, the army’s here, so somebody did.”
Imagining Milly alone, lost in the currents, hunted by predators, congealed his coldness into a sick ball. “She must not cross without protection.”
“She obviously did.”
The stone beneath his feet lurched.
Nightmare.
Uvim focused on the dark water concealing the harbor. “She summoned the army?”
“They arrived at the beach this morning. Elan’s leading them to the harbor.”
“Milly is not with them?”
“No, she returned yesterday in the early afternoon. Vaw Vaw’s family saw her emerge from the ocean, get in her car, and drive away. But this morning, Nicolette found Milly’s car abandoned in front of the dive shop.”
“Abandoned?”
“She parked sideways and left her lights on. The battery’s dead.”
“Milly is careful with her car. She would not make such a mistake.”
“Her wallet, cell phone, and contacts were still under the seat. She can’t see without them. She couldn’t have gotten far.” Queen Zara huffed. “Look. I won’t be angry. I just need the truth. Are you sure she’s not with you?”
Her accusation stabbed deep. “You think I lie?”
“Well, she’s your bride, and I know how crazy you mer get about your brides.”
Her acknowledgment of their connection only made his anger boil harder. “The only ‘crazy’ action I took was obeying your order to leave.”
She sucked in a breath. “Now, you listen—”
“I entrusted Milly to you, Queen Zara. Enemies have kidnapped Dosan’s and Xalu’s brides. Yet you allowed Milly to leave without protection.”
Queen Zara swallowed.
“I will find Milly,” he swore.
“Thank you.”
“We,” Dosan vowed, quiet. “We will find Milly.”
Brides Jen and Sydney nodded earnestly.
“Where are you?” Queen Zara asked, clipped.
“Ocean-side corner of the stage.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Uvim handed the cell phone back to Bride Jen. She ended the call and linked hands with Dosan. “What do we do?”
“We search,” Uvim said grimly.
Xalu leaped out of the water and wove between surprised humans. He arrived out of breath, spraying them with salt water. “The army has arrived. A giant black cave guardian flanks them.”
“Milly’s friend,” Uvim said. “Clifford. Take care.”
“I told them.”
“Milly is not there?”
Xalu shook his head.
His chest squeezed.
Milly was missing. In a sea of humans, he could not see her. And his enemy’s bomb was still undiscovered.
All three warriors and their brides turned outward to search thousands of humans.
Beneath the water, he could pick one fish out of a school. He would know her. But above the surface, resonance faded. The soul lights were washed out, obscured by buildings, faded in the air. He could not see or sense Milly’s pure light.
“Uvim!” The committee chair waved him toward the stage. “It’s time.”
The elevated view would show more.
Uvim climbed the stairs and stood with the other human dignitaries awaiting their turns to speak.
Before him, humans crowded around the stage like grains of sand. They spilled over the docks, onto the many boats bobbing on their tethers, and on the yachts filling the harbor with colorful flags. Humans perched many levels deep on the long sea wall, silhouetted against the breakwater, filled the streets leading away from the harbor, and pressed their hands against shop windows facing the ocean.
The grand platform overlooked the entire harbor.
How many thousands of humans trained their gazes on him?
The first mer warrior?
Stk. Stk. Stk.
The committee chair lofted a black stick. “Welcome to the annual Sea Festival!”
His voice emerged after a delay from other boxes and echoed over the crowds.
Uvim focused.
Milly must be here. This moment meant so much to her. She had cared about it before they had even met. She must not miss it.
Where was she?
“And now, the first remarks by an Azores’ native of the sea. Warrior Uvim, a merman!”
The committee chairman
offered Uvim the black stick.
Uvim stepped forward and took it. He stared over the upturned faces.
His warriors prowled through the crowds. On one street leading to the harbor, bright Queen Zara forced her way toward the stage. In the center of the harbor, bobbing his head above the water, glowed steady aquamarine First Lieutenant Elan.
Where was Milly?
The crowd murmured.
The committee chairman cleared his throat. Without the black stick, his voice sounded normal. “Uvim?”
Uvim lifted the black stick to his mouth.
He must say words. So the humans would understand. They would all understand. Today was a celebration between mer and humans.
Milly, his love, his bride, his heart, was missing from his side.
He must speak.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Milly groaned and tried to roll over on the hammock.
It resisted.
Her neck muscles twinged. They bent at an awkward angle, and the hammock was so uncomfortable. It was poky. And made of splintered wood.
Er, splintered wood?
The world rotated and everything made sense.
She collapsed in the belly of a wooden boat. Her cheek smashed the junker hull, her butt rose in the air, and something wrenched her arms behind her. She tugged. Her wrists rubbed on a sticky band. Her ankles were stuck with the same.
Duct tape?
Her fingers tingled, numb, with pins-and-needles.
Around her, piles of plastic bags spilled flowers.
“You’re awake.”
She forced her million-pound-heavy head off the ground, turned, and collapsed with a groan.
Brody’s cousin Ty stood a few feet away in the middle of the small hull. He checked his wrist watch. “Guess roofies work the same on monsters.”
Her mouth and her brain felt like tofu. Memories pounded against her skull. She let some in.
Ty had air horned her. The world had gone funny and she’d passed out.
She’d woken up later in a daze. Someone — it must have been Ty — pressed a cup of lukewarm water to her lips and ordered her to swallow. She had … and now she was here.
In a small, junker boat.
Ty ripped open a bag of white candles and dumped them onto a big canvas bag.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
The canvas stretched tight. Its four corners were hooked to springs anchored in the ceiling. The center of the bag was hooked to the floor.