Tears of the Sea

by Marylu Tyndall

  ♥♥♥

  Perdita wore a long gown of white satin with gold embroidery at the hem and cuffs, a stomacher embedded with pearls, and a crown of gold from which a silvery net of gems fell upon her hair. She was in Savion’s arms, dancing across a floor that looked like glass in a majestic hall with thick columns and a gilded ceiling. Surrounding them, a crowd of onlookers admired the couple with smiles and sighs and approving nods.

  Savion was dressed in an exquisite black suit with silver-buckled boots and a high-collared purple cloak only worn by royals. His movements were all grace and poise and confidence as he swept her across the floor to the sound of the most beautiful orchestra she’d ever heard.

  With one hand pressed possessively on her back and the other interlaced with her fingers, he looked at her as no man ever had—a gaze that penetrated her soul, where together they seemed to connect in a union far exceeding the physical.

  She had succeeded! She was human again. And loved. Finally, she was worthy of someone’s sacrifice.

  Pain skewered down her legs. The glass floor became mud, the columns palm trees, the gilded ceiling a stormy sky, and the crowd withered to but three men. Former Ivans all, save for Savion, who joined them. Her dress shriveled, her bare breasts exposed. She covered them with her hands as her legs gave out and melded together into a tail. Collapsing to the ground, she flopped like a fish.

  The Ivans pointed at her and bent over laughing, slapping one another and saying, “And she thought we would love her. Look at her! She’s just an ugly fish.”

  Perdita lurched and struck her head. “Ouch!” She touched her forehead and pried her eyes open to see the stained wood of the bulkhead beside Savion’s bed. Rolling over, she spotted her feet sticking from beneath her damp chemise and wiggled her toes, heaving a sigh of relief. Just a dream. But the pain wasn’t a dream. She remembered that. Waves of agony shearing over her. Her lungs filling with water, her chest constricting, her body pummeled by wind and wave with no control. Yet death remained elusive. As always.

  Savion had jumped in after her as she knew he would.

  Savion? Terror buzzed through her. If her plan worked, he might be dead. But had her plan worked? Heart in her throat, she slowly lifted her chemise. Three tiny slits remained on her right side just above her hip. She hung her head, longing to cry, but knowing she could not.

  The door creaked open, and Savion peeked in, smiling when he saw her. The sight of him swept away her despair. Shoving down her chemise, she lifted the quilt to cover herself, then wondered why she was being modest when all she wanted to do was seduce this man. Yet for the look of approval in his eyes at her action, she’d gladly don a nun’s habit.

  “How are you feeling?” He yanked a chair forward and straddled it, leaning his arms across the back.

  “Well enough, I suppose, for nearly drowning.” She moved her legs over the edge of the bed and suddenly felt like a child in his presence—an unruly child. “I can’t believe you jumped in after me.” He studied her with a look she could not identify. It made her squirm. It made tears burn behind her eyes. She forced them back.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t believe you jumped in in the first place.”

  “I slipped,” she returned quickly.

  He rose and shoved the chair aside. A ray of sun teetered over him from the window, accentuating the tightness in his jaw. “You leapt on the bulwarks during a squall. What did you expect? What were you doing above deck anyway?” He strode to the windows and crossed arms over his chest. “Have you ballast for brains, woman?”

  “Have a care, Savion. A lady might think you have affections for her with such anger.”

  He swung about. “I’m angry because you put me and my entire crew in jeopardy.”

  His voice was harsh, and she regretted her teasing. “You didn’t have to come after me.” She fought back those tears again.

  Seconds passed with naught but the creak of wood and whistle of wind to answer her. Savion sighed once, then twice, and finally came and knelt before her, taking her hands. “Of course I did.” Golden eyes examined her with relief.

  She sighed. He did care for her. But why hadn’t his sacrifice broken the curse? “I am truly sorry, Savion.” Not a lie, for she felt unusual regret in the pit of her stomach. “You could have died.”

  “I’m a good swimmer.” He pressed his side and winced.

  “Your wound. Did it reopen? Is it bleeding?” She attempted to rise, but his upraised hand kept her in place.

  “It’s all right. Haddeus took care of it.”

  “You shouldn’t have come after me with such a fresh wound.” Oddly, she meant it, as ludicrous as it sounded.

  He cocked a brow. “Do you really think I wouldn’t do everything in my power to save you? To save anyone?”

  “Even risking death?”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “But there was little chance of that. There are those watching out for me.”

  Did he mean his crew? “So you never believed you would die?”

  “No.”

  So, that is why the curse remained. Whether it could be broken by intent and risk alone, she had no idea. But that it could not be broken without either, ’twas obvious.

  His dark brows drew together as he studied her, and she had the odd sense he could see into her soul. “Did you wish me to risk my life? Is that what this is about? Some cruel pursuit of sacrifice to appease your vanity.”

  “Nay, of course not.” She stared at the floor.

  He tried to tug his hand away, but she squeezed it with both of hers. In the process, the quilt slipped, dragging her chemise off one shoulder.

  “I would never wish you to die, Savion.” That much was true. Truer every moment she spent with him.

  He saw her bare shoulder and looked away. “I grow tired of your seduction.” He jerked his hand back and rose.

  “I was not …” At least not this time. But what was the use? She was beginning to feel rather small and dirty in the presence of this great man.

  She covered her shoulder and felt his eyes upon her, boring into her soul.

  “We will make port in Kadon tomorrow evening.” Turning, he marched out the door.

  And then he would leave her. Just like all the rest.

  Chapter 12

  Frustrated and confused, Savion stormed from his cabin. Not only could he make no sense of the woman’s ramblings, but when he sought the wisdom within, he found nothing but a jumble of emotions. He’d seen her jump overboard, yet she denied it. Her behavior made him believe she’d wanted him to dive in after her. But why? And why risk her life? To appease her vanity? That made no sense either. There was so much more to this woman than she revealed. And that alone should force him far away. Yet he sensed a deep sorrow clouding her soul that made his own ache to help her.

  Popping above deck, he made his way to the railing. The edge of the sun dipped below the horizon, transforming the sea into shimmering turquoise. He would never get over the beauty of Erden and the Ancient Seas—the wonder of creation. Yet his longing to return home left a gaping hole in his heart. Would he ever see the shores of Nevaeh again?

  Petrok’s commands to adjust sail echoed over the ship while Hona slid behind Savion, his light hair flapping in the stiff breeze.

  “How fares our passenger?” he asked with a grin.

  “Well enough, considering her ordeal.”

  Savion could feel the man studying him. While part of him longed to be left alone with his thoughts, part of him longed to share his mind with the young quartermaster—the man Savion considered his best friend.

  “Something troubles you, Captain …” was all it took for Savion to turn toward Hona and relay his confusion over the beauty below.

  While water purled against the hull, wind roared in the sails, men shouted and wood creaked, Hona listened intently.

  “I’ve never seen a woman distress you so, Captain.”

  “Indeed.” Savion released a heavy sigh
.

  “It’s odd, really.” Hona scratched his head. “You can sense evil miles away, feel needs and injustice in other lands. Yet this woman, who is but a few feet away, baffles you.”

  “Ah, you see my struggle, then.” Savion said, wondering too, why Perdita’s soul was closed to him when he could read all others. He gripped the railing as an idea sparked in his mind. “She is a test. That has to be it. A test.” Perhaps sent by his father in order to determine whether he could be trusted to choose a mate wisely—not fall for beauty and deceit as he had done before.

  One final test before he was called home. Excitement prickled his skin.

  “A test?” Hona asked. “For what purpose?”

  Savion smiled. The time was not right to tell his friend the entire truth. “A test of my willpower, my strength. The king tests each of us from time to time, does he not?”

  “I suppose.” Hona gazed at the sunset, a collage of amber and coral and vermilion splattered across the sky. “Whatever the test is, I hope you pass it, Captain.”

  “I will.” He slapped his friend on the back. “Now tell me, what damage did the storm cause our fair ship?”

  “A few torn sails, split booms, and one of the guns that wasn’t lashed down punched a hole in the hull. Should take no more than a couple days at most to fix if we can find the materials.”

  Good, the sooner he settled Perdita in Kadon, the better. Once he left her there, the test would conclude, Savion would be victorious.

  And his father would call him home.

  ♥♥♥

  Savion had said no more than two words to Perdita since retrieving her from his cabin and rowing her ashore. Even in the jolly boat, he sat stiffly at the stern, his light hair blowing in the breeze, his jaw tight, and his focus on the port town of Kadon. Shielding her eyes, she glanced past him to the majestic Scepter, a graceful outline against the setting sun, and wondered if she’d ever board her again. With each dip of the oar into the water, she felt her heart dip a little deeper into despair.

  What did it matter? She still had twenty days to find someone else who would be willing to die for her. Yet, even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she would never find such a man—or at least another man like Savion. Even if she had a lifetime of days. She stole another peek at him, longing for him to look her way. He was a rare find indeed. A good, honorable man with a heart that surpassed all others. Leave it to her to find the one man in Erden who was unmoved by her seductive charms. Even worse, he had no fear of death! How could she get someone to die for her if he never thought he would actually die?

  When he refused to look her way, she faced Kadon, a city like any other port town in the Ancient Seas with its wharves and ships and workmen, warehouses and taverns and shops rising from the sand and climbing the hills beyond. Bells rang, birds squawked, wagons creaked, and shouts and chatter permeated the air.

  Once at the dock, Savion helped her from the wobbly boat, and with two of his men, walked her ashore. When he inquired of the friends she mentioned who lived here, she stated she’d find them on her own, and against everything within her, turned to leave. But he followed her nonetheless and led her to a boardinghouse, where he paid for a room for a week.

  Worse than being abandoned was the sense that all the camaraderie, the friendship, the bond they’d developed over the past ten days had somehow dissipated in the tropical heat. She could not imagine what she had done to cause his disdain except perchance that Savion had discovered her duplicity through his powers of discernment.

  With a tip of his cocked hat, he turned to leave. Just like that. And just like that her heart turned to wax. She sped after him, and after much urging, pulled him aside to a quiet corner of the boardinghouse parlor.

  “Savion, please let me stay with you and your crew,” she said with pouty lips and desperate eyes.

  He shook his head and stared out the window as if she weren’t worthy of his gaze. “That would hardly be proper.”

  “I could join your crew. Cook or mend sails.” Though she knew how to do neither. But how could she let the only man in the Ancient Seas who could break the curse walk out of her life?

  “I’m sorry, Perdita, it is not meant to be.” But the battle brewing in his golden eyes said otherwise. “I would never tempt my crew so.”

  “Is that all I am to you? A temptation?” She glanced down. “Or mayhap just a bother.”

  At this he seemed to soften, and a shake of his head gave her hope. “You were never a bother. But I have a mission, things I must do. Things that aren’t safe for a lady.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t give a care about being safe.”

  “Precisely the problem.” He shifted his stance and finally faced her. “I wish you well, Perdita.” He placed a kiss upon her hand, then put on his hat and strolled out the door.

  And her heart strolled out with him.

  Clutching her skirts, she dashed up the stairs to her room, fell onto her bed, and sobbed. An hour later, she collected two handfuls of pearls from the quilt where her tears had fallen. She thought to toss them from the window, but she could use a new gown. And some food, of course. Something sinfully delicious. At least she had that to look forward to.

  Rising, she examined herself in the full-length mirror. Even with her hair a mess and an ill-fitting gown, she could not deny her beauty far surpassed most human females. Why, then did Savion not grovel at her feet like every other man?

  Had she lost her touch? Her appeal? She turned and glanced at her side view and then spun to see her backside. Nay. Everything was in perfect proportion. As she’d been told by every man she’d ever known.

  Every man but Savion.

  Shoulders slumping as much as her spirits, she made her way to the window and looked over the city and docks beyond. Several ships rocked in the bay, and she searched for one in particular before the sun stole all the remaining light. There it was, the Scepter.

  An ache formed in her heart, and she blew out a ragged sigh. She was cursed, indeed. Not just cursed to be a mermaid, but cursed to be unloved forever. Did anyone really love anyone else? Below her on the street, people darted to and fro: women with small children, slaves, dockworkers, merchants, the upper crust traveling in their carriages with primly-dressed coachmen, fancy ladies twirling lace parasols above their pearl-embedded coiffures.

  Mayhap no one was truly loved. But at least these people would die someday and their pain would cease.

  She must endure it forever.

  Could a heart be broken so many times that even an eternal one would finally stop beating? That was her only hope. That and the hope that Savion would risk his life for her yet again. And that the next time, he would mean it.

  Nay! She would not give up. She would fight hard during her last days on land. And she would do everything in her power to win the heart of Savion Ryne.

  He sensed when evil was afoot, did he? Well mayhap that’s just what she would give him.

  ♥♥♥

  With every step Savion took away from the mysterious Perdita, his feet grew heavier until it felt as if he slogged through mud. When he sought the reason within, all was silent. So he continued down the main street, flanked by his men, returning greetings from those who knew him and trying to focus on the task at hand: repair his ship as soon as possible and discern where he was to go next, what attack he was to thwart, what disaster he could deter, whom he needed to rescue.

  And wait for his father to call him home.

  Turning a corner, he wiped sweat from his brow, stepped over a pile of horse droppings, and then leapt aside to avoid an oncoming wagon. He stopped and gripped his medallion, searching for that sense of evil normally so strong in Kadon, as in most port towns, but found it conspicuously absent.

  “Notice anything different?” he asked Petrok who stood beside him.

  “You sense something?” Petrok’s eyes flashed as if anxious for a fight.

  “No.” Savion flattened his lips. �
�That’s just it. Where are the Malum who usually patrol these streets?”

  His men glanced up and down the busy avenue.

  “Odd, yes,” Nuto finally said. “Perhaps they were called elsewhere.”

  “Perhaps they heard you were coming and ran for fear of your power,” Petrok added with a wink.

  Except … when had the Malum ever done that?

  Back at the ship, Savion found the remainder of his crew hard at work making repairs. During the short time he’d been gone, they’d been able to procure all the necessary materials to fix the torn sails, broken lines, cracked booms, and the hole in the hull. Another oddity, for normally it took more than a week to acquire such materials, especially in a port where so many ships were in need.

  During the next few days, Savion worked side by side with his men. Stripped of his shirt in the blazing sun, he used the remedy of hard labor and sore muscles to help him forget about the strange lady he’d abandoned in town. Nighttime was another matter. She invaded his dreams in a way no woman had. Not even Lorelei. And that bothered him the most. Perdita came to him in glowing mists, leaning over him, tending to his wounds, singing … always singing, sometimes sweet, sometimes off-key. Always songs he’d never heard before—sweet melodies filled with such sorrow they lured him deeper into a world where peace reigned. Tears fell from her eyes as she caressed his cheek, drops that glistened like pearls as they fell to her lap. Then he would always wake, sweat-laden and breathing hard as if he’d just fought a battle.

  Though he ventured into town a few times with his men seeking refreshments, he never saw her. He hoped she had found her friends, along with some honorable employment, but he was careful to direct his thoughts elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was to be drawn into her trap again. No, he must pass this final test. He must.

  On the third day, a pervading sense of trouble invaded his soul. A sense of suffering and pain in a distant port named Brayton. With the ship repaired, he normally would have set sail immediately, but this particular sense was different from the others. It didn’t originate in the same peaceful place within his soul, but instead came from outside himself, from a dark place fraught with anxiety and desperation.