I had come to know him as Zale, he was power and control, confidence bordering and often crossing over into arrogance. He had never known what it was to lose. He had been beaten, torn apart, but he had never lost. Patrick had. And I could see it now, the fear hidden deep down inside of him. He was frightened, whether for me, or for what was coming.
“Hey.” I said the word again, knowing it really had no meaning. I placed my hand along his cheek, willing him to look at me. He closed his eyes, only to open them a moment later.
“This is new,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“What is?” We were both whispering, even though most of the soldiers had left the room.
“Me, worrying.” He admitted, and I had to smile.
“I like you more because of it,” I said and bit my lip. He glanced down at me, his head cocked to the side and I leaned in closer. “You used to be a little reckless.”
“You mean stupid,” he chuckled with breathless mirth.
“Maybe just a little bit,” I held up my fingers a few inches apart. “But I feel safer with you like this.”
He sighed, “That helps.”
“I mean it,” I shrugged.
“I know you do.” He turned away from me again, fingers grazing over the tops of the daggers until he found what he was looking for. Selecting one final blade, he crossed the room to grab a shirt from a pile of clothing and left the room only to return moments later, dressed in the Lathmorian soldier’s garb.
I had seen him fight dozens of times, seen him wield daggers as though they were an extension of his own arm, and yet, this image of him frightened me more than anything I had seen. He was intimidating. The size of his chest, thick and strong beneath broad shoulders, was overwhelming. After seeing him in a loose shirt for so long, the black fabric clung to each muscle, curving and molding around his body in a way that made my throat go dry. I pulled my eyes away from him as the heat flooded my cheeks.
He came up beside me once more and hurried to strap a belt around his waist. Each dagger slid into the sheaths with a perfect whisper of steel. He adjusted a few, to place the handles within easiest reach. Looking down at my own heavy belt, a tinge of warmth passed through me, he had made them more efficient for me as well.
“I’ve never carried this many daggers before.” I fingered one of the handles.
“You’ve never been to battle before.” He pointed out.
“True,” I said and shimmied my hips, hoping to bring the light back into his eyes. “But I have seen one and—“
“Will you stop?” his voice suddenly boomed toward the corner of the room, making me jump. His eyes were on the merman sharpening his knife. The incessant scraping halted, and the resulting silence was wonderfully peaceful. The Lathmorian soldier didn’t seem at all pleased, but after giving Patrick a once over, he left the room without rebuttal.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“No problem.” He shrugged. “I might as well use their fear of me to my advantage.” He winked, but the lightness in his eyes disappeared all too quickly.
“We’ll be okay.” My mouth said the words, but I didn’t feel them in my heart.
With each passing moment, the tension mounted in my body. I wondered if my muscles would be loose enough to do the work needed for survival. I wasn’t sure if the moves the Lathmorians, and in particular Patrick, had taught me would be helpful. My instinct was to run, and run fast. I hoped I would have the courage to stay and fight.
“I’m not worried about me,” he said the words so gently I almost missed their meaning. Hadn’t he just told Tunder I was more capable than anyone gave me credit?
“I’ll try,” I said, and the words came out more bitter than I thought they would. “I have my voice.”
“True, but I don’t think you should use it.”
“Why? It’s my best weapon. You told me it’s getting stronger.”
“But your voice makes you a target.” He ran a hand through his hair. “As soon as you use it, they will all turn toward you.”
“They already know who I am, what I look like. Won’t they come after me anyway?”
“No,” he shook his head. “They’re waiting for something. I just don’t know what.” He looked ready to smash his hand into the table, but stilled it in the air. “I don’t want you to attract attention to yourself. You have to lay low, keep them from hearing your voice.”
“Okay,” was all I said.
“Promise me something.” He turned to me, his lips parting. He grasped the sides of my arms and looked deep into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay where I can see you. Don’t leave my side.”
I nodded immediately, “I promise.”
I couldn’t imagine moving away from him in a battle. He was the only one I truly trusted to keep me safe, and I would do what I could to help him. Thinking of his earlier words, I realized just what he was sacrificing. If I used my voice and the Hyven rallied to capture me, he would be by my side. He would face whatever the Hyven tried to throw my way—and we could both be taken in an instant.
“I mean it,” he shook my shoulders slightly, holding them a little tighter. When he swallowed heavily, my brow furrowed wondering where all of this was coming from. “I can’t help feeling I will lose you again.”
The confession seemed to take everything he had, and when his head hung lower than usual, I leaned in to whisper to him.
“You never lost me.” It was true, I had always been his.
“I thought I did.” His voice reached a new depth and the deep rumble stirred something inside my chest. “It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt.”
“I know,” I said, having thought the same of him. There was nothing I could think of to compare to the gut wrenching horror and endless expanse of darkness, when I thought he was gone forever.
“I’ve returned to Hyvar many times, but this is the first time I’m a little afraid.” He smiled sheepishly. I wondered if it was lighter in the room, would I see him blush.
“Me too,” I confessed, and his grin grew.
“You don’t know what he’s capable of,” he squinted off to the side, straightening back to his full height. The small glimpse into his fears disappeared.
“I won’t let him near you,” I whispered and stepped closer to him. Slipping my fingers around the weapon belt he wore, I tugged him to me. Pulling his head down to mine, we let our fears and worries drown in the passion of our lips meeting one another. When we broke apart, our chests were heaving and he caressed my face with his thumbs, gazing into my eyes.
“I won’t either,” he said, his breath wafting around my lips.
He pulled me to the edge of the room and sat down with his back against the wall. On instinct, I moved before him, my back leaning against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. I sighed heavily, closing my eyes when he ran his fingers through my hair.
“You know what you never told me?” he spoke, his voice rolling gently over my ears.
“What’s that?”
“When you fell in love with me.”
“Oh,” I pursed my lips as though I had to think hard about it. “Let me think, probably when you found out who I really was and stormed off Lathmor, or maybe it was when you showed up at my house and stared at Jillian for so long, she nearly fainted.” He squeezed me and I giggled.
“Be nice,” he said.
“Oh, all right,” I patted his arm, suddenly growing more serious. “I don’t really know when it happened. It might have been when I first told you about my family.” I shrugged. “All I really know is when you found out what I was and left Lathmor, I was hurt. I was as surprised by my feelings as you were that day.”
He was silent for a moment. “And what about when I couldn’t remember?”
“I was in danger the first time I saw you. But I didn’t realize how much I cared, until I thought you had betrayed me.” I ducked my head. “When I came back to the truck that night and you were missing, I thought you had set a trap. I felt s
tupid and foolish for having ever trusted you. More than anything, I was terrified because I was blinded by what I felt toward you.”
He placed a kiss along my cheek, and I leaned into it. “Do you want to know mine?” he asked, and I murmured my agreement. “Well, the first time was almost immediate. Somehow when I saw you on the cliff, I just knew. It’s why I was so mad to find out Morven got to you first. And the second time,” he pursed his lips and I nearly laughed, “I would have to say when I was driving your brother’s truck.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Not at all,” he smiled.
“Why not when you saw me in Hyvar?”
He waved a hand. “Oh that was nothing, I merely remembered your face. But I didn’t know you then.”
“I think you fell in love with the truck,” I said, recalling the pure exhilaration on his face.
“You might be right,” he exhaled and shook his head. “Maybe this is all just a dream.”
I elbowed him gently in the ribs, and murmured his earlier words back to him. “Be nice.”
He sighed and then leaned forward, “What if I don’t want to be?”
The way his voice dipped low made my stomach flip over itself. When I turned to him, I bit my lip until he ran a thumb across my chin. The lightness had returned to his eyes, but hidden in the depths was the fear of what could happen.
I didn’t know what I would do if he was taken, the agony of being separated from him again was something I didn’t want to think about. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I realized he was fretting over the same thing. He was worried I would leave him—I had in the past. I had left him in Hyvar, I had left him at the waterfall the night Bolrock attacked. Only now did the two moments coincide in my mind. He had told me later my leaving him at the waterfall had caused him pain, but until now, I didn’t realize how much it really meant.
Scooting closer to his chest, I clung to him. I’ll never leave you, I thought and he held me tighter.
All night we remained in one another’s arms, though neither of us slept much. Every time I came close to sleeping, the beginnings of a nightmare would form and I would wake to his voice, crooning in my ear. He stilled my hands beneath his own, and together we endured the silence, casting off the omens of the night.
I was just about to coax him into raiding the kitchen, when Evna appeared in the doorway with a shocking suddenness. We had been waiting all night, and now that the moment was upon us, it seemed too soon.
“It’s time,” she said.
Without a word we followed her through the doorway, to begin the last battle.
21. Siege
Cloaked in the pitch of the swirling water, we surged over the ocean depths as one. All around me were flickering tails of varying shades and colors, scales flashing as lightning across a furious storm-swept sky. Each fin worked tirelessly, pushing to a speed I wouldn’t have been able to achieve before my full transformation.
A solid hole had wormed its way into my gut, growing with each passing hour. We had started in the early morning light, proceeded all day and into the darkness, which enshrouded our heaving forms. The numbers surrounding us were hardly near comprehension. Tunder led the group at the front with Elik, Voon and Calmric by his sides. Kryssa was lost somewhere in the mix of bodies. Every now and again I caught a glimpse of her blue fins pushing against the water, but in this hoard, it was hard to keep track of anyone. I had tried counting when we first began, but got lost in the numbers when I reached the four hundreds and didn’t feel as though I could start all over again.
Beside me, Patrick was a shadow slicing through the water, a solid comfort for what loomed ahead. Even now as my worry began to make my hands tremble, he reached out and wrapped my fingers within his. I inhaled a shaky breath and drew closer. The push of the water from his fins knocked mine aside slightly, I struggled to remain close to him, my hair rippling against his shoulder.
I wanted to speak to him, to get him to tell me again everything was going to be all right, but we weren’t allowed to speak. Everyone knew the plans and nothing was meant to be said. Tunder wasn’t going to risk a stray word ruining our surprise.
A merman bumped into Patrick’s shoulder and he gave an infinitesimal grunt of disapproval. Ever since leaving Lathmor, his expression had changed. As my worry grew, his determination mounted and the tightness in his jaw became more pronounced. He was becoming Zale again, the warrior taking over his mind and body, as he prepared himself for what lay ahead.
The mermaid on my other side jostled my arm, making me fall against Patrick. He made another sound of annoyance but kept his eyes focused forward. As more bumps and pushing began to happen, I realized we weren’t the only ones overly nervous about what was coming. This was to be the end and the very thought of what might happen was enough to make anyone agitated.
Tails flicked around us, bodies swarming over one another while leaving formation. They shifted and bumped into each other, one collided heavily with Patrick’s shoulder and he shoved the merman aside. He hissed back in response, but his eyes never left the front of the gathering where Tunder swam.
My eyes were wide as I took it all in. This was a different group than anything I had ever experienced. I had never seen the Lathmorians on the offensive, to see the agitation and blood lust in their eyes made me shiver with something I couldn’t name. I was torn between wanting to arrive and turning around to retreat back to Lathmor, when I began to notice the rise of the ocean floor. I must have made a small sound because Patrick squeezed my hand tighter as though wanting to pull me close. The moment I could no longer touch him was fast approaching. I would stay close to his side, but neither of us would be able to hold the other in the onslaught of the battle. Merely thinking of it made me tremble even more.
Tunder’s hand shot above the bobbing heads.
Every tail and body stilled in an instant—the only sound the churning water all around us.
Wondering just how close we were to the shore, I peered through the hordes of flashing tails and rippling hair, trying to find one face. Every chest and arm was covered in black fabric, which served as armor for these brave merfolk.
Finally, I spotted her, her bright green gaze found me, and she gave a worried smile in my direction. I couldn’t help but notice the strain around her eyes. Nixie was beside her, the deep red of her locks floating to touch those of Kryssa’s black strands. With a nod of my head, I attempted to gather my courage as I returned my gaze to Tunder.
He held his hand in a fist and seemed to be waiting for something. Suddenly, out of the shadows up ahead, Gendra appeared and gave one solid nod. My stomach dropped.
It was time.
Pointing to his right and left, the upper legions of Lathmorians split on either side of the king, heading in opposite directions. A third group held back, and I inched closer to Patrick, waiting for our turn. Our mission was to wait until the first two waves of soldiers had drawn out the Hyven, then we would approach the beach to overwhelm them with our numbers.
It won’t be long now, I thought.
With baited breath, we delayed for what seemed like hours, until a roaring moan split the air above the surface, filtering down to where we drifted in the shadows. It reverberated in my chest, bouncing off my limbs, making me shake inside.
We had only a split second to react before the entirety of the group shot forward faster than we had been traveling all day. The ocean floor rose, the sand creating a freckled cloud stirred up from our fins.
I angled my body upward, waiting for the moment I would blaze out of the water. The looming form of Hyvar was barely visible through the murky rippling of the ocean waters, but I could see it all the same, and my gut clenched in a painful knot.
Patrick was by my side and I swallowed heavily as we arched forward, when suddenly, his arm hit me in the chest, sending me backward with a huff. I had only an instant to glance up and see his blades appear from the backs of his forearms as a Hyven soldier launched himse
lf into the water.
He was dead before he was fully transformed. I tried not to look at the murky cloud of his blood, as his body was pulled back in the waves, and more Hyven took his place.
We were stuck, somewhere between the depths of the ocean and the shores, surrounded by pounding water as Hyven soldiers attacked from above. Patrick took down three more enemies before one got close to me and I moved with an instinct I didn’t feel.
The blades I had only recently gained, sprung forth from my fingers and made contact with the nearest Hyven mermaid. I cringed as she shrunk back in pain and when Patrick finished her off, I was thankful for his presence. He was a swirling cloud of infinite fury, his tail knocking Hyven back with bone-crushing ferocity and his blades finishing them before they had time to retreat.
The other Lathmorians rallied around us, taking the onslaught from the outside and though my fingers edged toward the sheathed daggers around my waist, I knew they would have to wait. They had no purpose in the water.
The splashes from diving Hyven disappeared, and when the melee settled for a moment, the Lathmorians took to the offensive when Patrick shot off toward the surface. I streaked after him, following the black shimmer of his tail, until we both sprung free of the water. In the midst of transforming Lathmorians all around us, we landed with frozen feet on the sodden sand.
I knelt on wobbly legs, before lifting my head to meet the sight which matched the sounds throbbing in my ears. It was complete chaos.
More merfolk than I had ever seen were combating one another, their blades slicing through the night and cutting one another with mortal blows. Bodies were strewn along the shore, some were dead, others moaned for help and dragged themselves toward the refuge of ocean waves. Daggers flew through the air and one merman knocked into my shoulder, making me tumble into Patrick’s side. He blocked a blow from a mermaid and sent her sprawling on the ground.
An instant later, a dagger flew past my head and I returned with a throw of my own. I hit my target and ignored the cry of pain, my eyes searching for my next opponent. Maybe it was the utter chaos around me, or the complete fear coursing through my veins, but for a moment I watched everything with perfect clarity, as though it all happened in slow motion.
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