by Starla Night
Maybe someone was coming to rescue them right now…
Uvim would not step on that plate.
The committee chair wiggled his brows. Insistent and impatient. He turned to the person standing next to Uvim in silent appeal and tapped the face of his wrist ornament.
The man next to Uvim shrugged, walked forward, and stomped on the plate.
Pop.
The glass fell.
The pilot flame lit the gas.
Whoooosh.
Heat licked Milly’s back like the tongue of an angry god. Her T-shirt crackled. She gasped and arched away from the heat. It abated with welcome cool.
“Oh my god,” Brody gasped. “The gas exploded, and we didn’t die. We didn’t die.”
Except her shoulder was on fire.
“It’s burning,” she shouted. A flamethrower raged at her side. “Something is burning!”
“The gas lit the fuses. Milly! It’s burning the canvas bag!”
She wormed away from the hot spot.
Dynamite poured over her shoulder toward the melting canvas.
Any second now it would burn through the heavy canvas and ignite.
She would turn into a fine mist of formerly human molecules.
The bag tipped. One corner had burned through. Now the bag hung by three springs.
She fell toward the flamethrower.
Flower blossoms dried up and burned to ash.
“Roll out of the bag, Milly!”
“There’s a fire!”
“Roll—”
Twang.
The hook released. The remaining three springs twanged.
They launched Milly into the sky.
With a bag full of flowers and dynamite.
On fire.
Someone in the middle of the harbor screamed.
Everyone turned.
A huge payload launched into the air.
Blackened ash fluttered on the salty breeze.
White, sparkly ropes spattered the water, docks, and neighboring boats around the Friendship Float.
And the screaming came from a female, bound at the wrists and ankles, who popped over the edge of the dual wave sculpture. Her soul light shone like the sun.
“Milly!” he shouted.
The crowds gasped.
She dropped into the water beside the hull. Her scream cut off with a splash.
The sparkly ropes were not flying fish. Some sank beneath the waves. The ones on the boats and docks hissed like dangerous snakes.
This was the dynamite!
The pressure plates once again had caused destruction.
Milly had screamed in fear.
His enemy was on that boat.
He must activate the warriors of Dragao Azul!
Uvim was still holding the speaking stick.
He lifted it to his mouth. “Fight the dynamite! Cut the burning ropes. Do not ignite the powder! Even one explosion will kill. Dive now. There is no time!”
His warriors shoved through the crowd, clambered across the rock wall, and dove into the harbor.
He dropped the black speaking stick and raced down the steps. He must get to Milly.
Queen Zara was still much too far away.
He jumped into the crowd.
The humans moved back. Parting for him to cross to the docks.
Yet in front of him, a strange thing happened.
A slender male picked up a long stick of dynamite that had landed on the bare wood. His sister produced a short knife from her pocket and sawed off the burning fuse.
He held out the defused stick to Uvim.
Uvim stopped.
Why…?
“Here!” An older male called in Portuguese. He gestured to place the inactive stick on cleared stone in front of the marina. “Dynamite here. You, and you, cut those fuses! Gather the defused dynamite here.”
Humans cleared the front of the marina. Others jumped off the docks into the water.
They fished for the dynamite!
The humans tumbled in, scores, diving and searching. Some wore the transparent face masks and long breathing snorkels like Milly’s tourists. Those humans emerged and handed burning dynamite sticks up to people on the docks who separated the fuses and carried the pieces into the shore.
His orders had been for First Lieutenant Elan’s warriors.
But the humans had listened.
To him.
They had heard his words and now they were helping.
Uvim dove into the black water. He shifted as he descended.
Humans and warriors swarmed the hissing dynamite. He squinted to see through them.
Where and how hurt was Milly?
Chapter Thirty-Five
Milly hit the ocean like a cannonball.
Water slapped her butt cheeks with a harsh sting. Her tailbone bruised from the impact. Ocean poured over her head, silencing her. She thrashed and choked.
Water lodged in her throat like a fist.
She wasn’t shifting. She wasn’t breathing. Blackness shrouded her vision. She blubbed her helpless scream.
The temporary elixir had worn off!
A warrior flashed in front of her.
Mer — tattoos — slice, slice — and then her wrists and ankles were free.
She floundered. Her charred T-shirt wafted around her armpits and she could breathe.
She had made it. She was alive.
She had shifted.
Dynamite rained around her and the boat.
Milly ripped off the chunks of tape.
Above, Brody was still trapped with the gas blowtorch and a giant bomb.
Yes, she was alive, but for how long?
“Yank out the fuses!” She reached for a falling, hissing dynamite stick.
A warrior darted in front of her. His trident sliced the burning fuse. The sputtering stub sank. He collected the dynamite as he veered, an expert undersea predator, toward the next live stick.
Huh.
She kicked in a circle. The dynamite hadn’t dispersed because her weight had prevented it from launching far. Fifty or a hundred trained males wove beneath the surface in a deadly dance.
Amateur snorkelers collected the dynamite that had floated inland with mild waves. Free-divers, and even sports divers with scuba tanks, launched themselves beneath the waves selflessly endangering their lives to save the mer.
To save her.
Amazing.
“Uvim?” She kicked through the crowds searching for a familiar face.
There, in the distance, swam Elan.
Beside him dove Zara.
“Zara!”
But her sister was busy creating a shield around a mass of dynamite, pushing it to warriors who efficiently tore it apart. She was too far away.
All this effort had deactivated most the dynamite.
Milly could almost relax. If only she could find Uvim…
Sudden knowing filled her with relief.
He was behind her.
Milly turned.
Uvim barreled into her, wrapped her in his arms, and twirled her in the water. His lips sought hers. “Milly.”
Relief made her tremble. She yielded to his kiss.
They were whole. Everything would be okay. She had summoned the warriors, and he had commanded them.
His tongue stroked hers. He was real, alive, and whole.
“The dynamite.” Her words vibrated in her chest while her mouth was busy with their kiss. “All the dynamite…”
“It is being collected. Humans are assisting. We will survive.”
“No!” She jerked back and pointed to the Friendship Float overhead. “There’s a huge keg of dynamite on a long fuse inside. Hot gas is flaming like a blow torch. And Brody’s trapped inside!”
He ordered his closest warriors. “Cut the hull. We will rescue Brody.”
“A hole will let in water. It could float the keg into the flames.”
Police boat sirens penetrated the water.
“Can we lea
ve this to human justice?” Uvim asked.
Dosan floated beside them. “The police cannot navigate through the people. Officers are shouting to evacuate. They intend to tow this boat out to sea.”
“They’ll never clear the harbor,” she said grimly. “Everyone in this ocean, mer and human, will die. We have to get inside.”
They surfaced.
Black, acrid smoke billowed from the float.
The gas was burning.
Was Brody still alive?
She spat the water, gasping and choking as she shifted back to air-breathing. Through her gasps, she told the males, “Boost me up.”
“No.” Uvim kicked forward. “I will go.”
She took his hand. “Together.”
“Never.”
“Uvim!”
His solemn vow declared he would never put her into such danger.
She loved him for that so much.
But there was no time to fight. “Just give me a hand … huh?”
A dangerous black shadow slithered beneath them.
The mer kicked away from the boat with gasps and exclamations.
“Danger!” One warrior shouted as Uvim gathered Milly close. “Beware!”
Huge tentacles crawled up the sides of the boat. A giant black octopus hugged it like a Kraken of the deep.
“Clifford!” she cried.
She emerged. Her big plus-shape eye focused on Milly and Uvim. One tentacle wrapped around the charred friendship statue and plunged into the open section of the hull.
A high-pitched, almost inaudible keen shattered the air.
Clifford jerked her tentacle out. It smoked. She plunged it into the water with a huge splash. Her burned flesh sizzled.
She was screaming.
“The blow torch!” Milly clutched Uvim. The giant octopus’s screams stabbed her heart. “She must be in agony.”
He turned Milly and pushed her toward the octopus. “Heal her.”
“Me?”
“Your touch soothes. Healing is your power, my queen.”
My queen?
Her heart swelled in her chest. “I haven’t completed the rituals.”
His gaze smoldered. His faith filled her with bottomless devotion, a knight swearing fealty, a lover enamored with his one. “You are and have always been a powerful queen.”
He was right.
She was a queen.
Milly swam to the giant octopus who had sacrificed one of her few remaining limbs to save them. She placed both hands on the rubbery skin. If Uvim was right — if she did have a power — let her heal now. “Feel better, all right?”
The keening stopped.
Clifford surfaced. Her plus-eyes fixed on Milly. First with gratitude. Then, with determination.
They did not have much time.
Milly lifted her hands. A painful lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow. “Be careful. Please.”
The giant octopus steeled herself. She plunged in the injured tentacle. Then, she lifted yet another tentacle and plunged both into the hull.
She sacrificed herself one piece at a time.
This time, she endured the flames much longer, rummaged around, and pulled out Brody.
He slid through her tentacles and tumbled into the water. His wrists and ankles were still bound. He wiggled like a human-sized worm.
Warriors grabbed him and held him above the water.
“I shut off the gas,” he crowed and held up his wrists — which were now in front of his body. “I couldn’t let her get hurt again. I just couldn’t.”
Milly swallowed back her tears. “Thank you!”
A warrior slid a trident through the tape.
Brody jerked back in surprise. Then, he flexed his hands. “And Ty said yoga wasn’t manly. It saved my life.”
“The dynamite?” Uvim questioned.
He sobered. “Still inside. The fuse has almost reached the bag.”
Milly turned back and shouted at Clifford. “Please—”
Her tentacles waved. The hissing keg of dynamite plopped the water right in front of them.
They stared, frozen.
Brody grabbed the hissing fuse.
It was a hair to the main dynamite.
Uvim grabbed Dosan’s trident and sliced it.
The deadly blade swished the fuse. The hissing piece floated away.
All the dynamite was inert.
They were safe.
The gas tank landed on top of the bag of dynamite with a dangerous clunk. Then the pilot light box with a hiss as it went out. The canvas bag dropped in shreds.
Clifford tossed everything out. Her tentacles waved wildly.
“Okay,” Milly called up. “We’re saved. Take a breather. We’ll get rid of this hunk of junk.”
Clifford pushed the boat inland. She smacked it into the rocky sea wall.
On the concrete above, everyone shrieked and backed away.
“Um, you can stop there,” Milly cried.
Clifford heaved herself out of the water and walked on her fists onto the land.
People scattered. Her giant tentacles wrapped around the boat and she hauled it onto the middle of the two-lane coastal highway.
Clifford wanted the “death float” out of her harbor.
She pushed the boat across the highway. It tapped the stone wall of an old fort.
She thumped the hull with one tentacle as though saying, “Good riddance!” and slithered into the water, spreading out so her eyes and part of her funnel floated.
Brody climbed up onto the land too. Warriors passed up the dynamite bag, gas tank, pilot light box, and other detritus. He pushed them in a pile.
Their police inspector climbed up onto the boat.
“The bomb is gone!” he shouted. “The octopus is our savior!”
Everyone cheered.
After that, the welcome ceremony descended into semi-organized chaos.
Warriors surged onto land, naked, bristling with weapons — and got happy hugs, requests for photos, free food, T-shirts, and towels.
Clifford floated by the outer sea wall, out of everyone’s way. So, festival goers made a point of hauling out crates of frozen fish and took turns standing in line to offer the tidbits to a very willing recipient. She even performed, shooting water out of her funnel so a cool mist rained down, and offered her tentacles so even children braved to touch her rubbery skin.
Milly had hoped the welcome ceremony would go well but turning into a giant party would have stretched her imagination. Yet as the smell of delicious barbecue filled the air, chasing away the last of her nausea, and children ran past with sparkly fuses tied to sticks, she couldn’t deny the festive atmosphere.
This was the first mer-human party. And their guest of honor was, correctly, a giant octopus.
Milly let go of Uvim for one moment to walk across the dented highway and hug Brody. “Thank you.”
“Whoah.” He patted her back. “Glad you’re feeling better, Milly.”
“Maybe I’ll even invite you to my house sometime.”
“Don’t go all crazy now.”
The police arrived to confiscate the dynamite and inspect the boat. Milly let Brody go.
He turned to the police inspector sheepishly. “Time to face the music.”
While he was being interrogated by other officers, Milly gave her statement to the inspector. He looked miserable and it was hard to know what he would be charged with. He had known Ty’s plan even though he hadn’t wanted to believe it. At least now he could help capture Ty — who was, as far as Milly could see, still at large — by telling all he knew.
Who were these Sons of Hercules really? She hoped this was the last time she heard of them. But she was afraid it was only the beginning.
Milly finished her statement and rejoined Uvim.
He drew her against his hard chest. “Are you prepared?”
“For what?”
Beside them, Xalu stood with Sydney and Dosan with Jen. “To return to t
he city and complete the ritual.”
“Yes!”
Their trio of couples wove through the celebration and dove into the harbor. Xalu’s bride Sydney had drunk the flower nectar Milly had once coveted for herself. And, during Milly’s trip to the echo point, Dosan had taken Jen to drink the elixir beneath Ilha Sagrada. Both women shifted to breathe underwater — the hardest part, even for Milly — and Milly unfurled her new fins. Everyone celebrated and complimented her. Then, they stuffed their clothes in a convenient cave beneath the harbor.
On Uvim’s command, each couple entwined. They flew to the mouth of the harbor.
This was it. She was going to Dragao Azul to marry a merman.
Not any merman.
Uvim.
This was the final turning point of her life.
And she embraced it — him — with her full heart.
They passed the last warriors, who bowed with surprise. The open ocean beckoned. They were home free.
Elan and Zara blocked the harbor entrance.
“Stop,” Zara said.
They pulled up short.
Uvim stiffened.
Milly steeled herself.
She would not allow anyone to drive them apart. Not her sister. Not anyone.
No matter what.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Queen Zara stopped them at the mouth of the harbor.
Her soul glowed with fierce power.
Behind her, First Lieutenant Elan held his trident. His ease belied his deadly ability to wield it.
Xalu and Dosan braced.
Their brides regarded Queen Zara with interest. It was their first time meeting a queen with full control of her powers.
Queen Zara ordered Uvim. “Let her go.”
No. His grip tightened. He was never releasing Milly to her care again.
Queen Zara’s eyes widened at his insubordination. “You dare hold her against her will? I will—”
“No, wait. Stop this, all of you.” Milly disentangled herself. She stroked Uvim’s cheek. A confident smile warmed her soul. “It’s okay.”
He let go because she wished it.
But his heart clenched.
She followed her stroke with a soft kiss. Deepening their connection. She respected and loved her sister, but Milly would remain with him. Now, and forever.
His fears eased.