The Kiss That Saved Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 2)

by Kristy Nicolle

  Come.

  Its message is clear and I stroke the old grooves that run across its face underneath its giant, soulful eye.

  “It’s okay, we’re not going anywhere,” I whisper. Orion is next to me.

  “How is this possible?” He looks at me curiously and I wonder what he’s thinking. How he sees me now. Does he think this is some darkness left over that I’m concealing?

  “I don’t know,” I say, feeling breathless. I hope he doesn’t think this is some trick, after all he’s so paranoid now since Saturnus’ betrayal. I have a real connection with this animal and the second I looked into her eye I knew I had to help her. It wasn’t a connection through words, despite the fact I’m hearing her in my head; it’s something deeper. Something that stems from the fact we both have souls tied to the earth. An earth that we share.

  “I might have an answer to that one,” Azure’s tones are serious. She’s on the back of Philippe, who I can see now she has a past with. She’s touching his mane in the way I know Orion often does.

  “Huh… why?” I look at her confused. I hope she isn’t about to tell me something that will turn Orion’s opinions of me muddier than they already are. I really need us to get along right now.

  “Titus could talk to animals, before he became a Psiren,” she reminds me of a simple fact I’d forgotten. It makes sense, but I don’t want to seem like I’m still under Titus’ influence. I know now that I have to reveal how my darkness had disappeared so suddenly.

  “So once the darkness that latched onto me got pulled out by Vex…” I begin and Orion’s head snaps toward me like he’s been slapped.

  “Vex?” His face is stony and his jaw is hard set, the glacial surface of his eyes turn as cold as the colour they exude.

  “Yes. He took the darkness from me,” I sigh and he licks the front of his top teeth.

  “What a hero,” he shakes his head and I change the subject.

  “So this is what’s left behind? I can talk to animals now?” Azure nods at me.

  “Titus, from what I recall of him back then anyway, said they came to him in fragments. Just single words, sometimes phrases.” Azure replies, trying to be helpful in spite of her brother’s issues. I nod and smile.

  “That’s what it’s like with her!” I want to cry, feeling an overwhelming joy at something so wonderful coming from the darkness that I had never thought I would fall into so deeply.

  The whale rises, taking a large exhalation of water and showering the surface with droplets of salty sea spray. It takes in the oxygen it needs, and I fall back along it’s pectoral fin as it’s body lurches back beneath the surface with a crash, obliterating the surface tension.

  “So the darkness really is gone!” I smile, beaming wider than I have in a long time, since perhaps before the night Orion and I left our beach house after our long pre-coronation night of passion. I suddenly find myself tracing the area around my neck with my fingertips, feeling over the flesh that had once been bruised tender at his mouth’s hot clutch.

  “Callie,” my name is but a short, sharp burst from Orion’s unforgiving lips. I find my temporary nostalgia broken as I look at where Orion is pointing. It’s a hole in the lush green sea floor, covered over with rocks from a landslide or some other accidental natural disaster. I hear a calling, the ethereal haunting song that can only belong to another humpback whale.

  Skye and the other mermaids move effortlessly beneath the belly of the whale that has led us here, diving so they can get closer to the rocks covering whatever cave or hole is underneath. The whale stops, letting itself hover in the dark green waters. I plunge down, diving to join the pod of mer who all look rather horrified.

  “Oh Callie, it’s so awful!” Sophia is babbling, looking worried. With an abruptness that shows we are on a time limit, the other mer move backward and I see why they’re so concerned. A baby humpback whale is trapped beneath the rock, crying out to be let free. A feeble voice echoes in my mind, faint.

  Stuck.

  The voice alarms me, because it sounds so pure, so guttural and innocent. I want to be sick and I feel my chest constrict as I realise that the baby humpback can’t rise for air.

  “It’s drowning!” I exclaim, horrified.

  Help.

  The mother’s voice echoes in my mind again and I cover my ears, not wanting to hear their pain anymore.

  “We have to help him!” I exclaim again.

  “Him?” Skye looks at me confused.

  “Yes, it’s a boy. Now come on, help me move some of these rocks, it’s running out of time! Fahima, tell Ghazi to help too! We need all the muscle we can get!” I’m barking orders left, right, and centre, as though the infant beneath the rockslide isn’t a whale, but my own baby sister crying out in need. It’s ripping my heart apart from the inside, hearing their pain within my head. I need it to stop.

  Moving the boulders causes my shoulders to ache and my back muscles to burn. It takes me back to the day I had first used my power as the vessel on an unsuspecting Ghazi. I look over at him, hauling rocks from the entrance to the cave trapping the baby whale. His arms are bulging, straining with the weight of the task at hand as well as the consequences should we fail. The mermaids have discarded their stolen weapons in a clumsy pile and are moving smaller rocks. Unfortunately, it’s not cutting it.

  “Guys, why don’t you try working together to lift some of the bigger rocks?” I ask, feeling some algae come off the boulder I’m holding; it clings to me like cheese off a day old pizza, slimy and cold.

  Ew.

  “You think we could lift that one?” Skye asks me, cocking her eyebrow and tossing her caramel coloured hair over one shoulder.

  “Why not? Come on, I’ll help,” I charge over to where they’re moving pebble sized stones and spiral my body so I’m facing one of the largest rocks in the pile. Ghazi moves to help me, but I hold up a hand and point to one of the smaller boulders a few metres away. I want the girls and I to tackle this one by ourselves; they need a serious infusion of confidence. I smile to myself, hearing how I’m now referring to them as ‘the girls’, I hadn’t given that title to anyone since becoming a mermaid, and the last group of girls who had been entitled to it had been Chloe, Mollie, and Manda. I think back to Chloe and Mollie at the frat party I had attended with Vex. They had looked so different, so available. Mollie was lucky Vex had stepped in when he did, otherwise she might be dead right now, or worse.

  “Okay, on my count,” Alannah says for the second time today. She seems to take to authority well; the other maidens listen to her at least. “One, two… three!” The strain begins as our tails motion together, out of time and unable to take the weight of the stone. It’s slippery to touch, but I know that’s not the problem. The mermaids stop straining and begin to float back to what they were doing.

  “Hey, wait, where are you going?” I ask them, flipping my long blonde locks back over my left shoulder.

  “We can’t lift it, Callie. You saw. Get Ghazi to do it.” Ghazi’s ears prick up at this and I see him begin to swim back toward us.

  “Hey! No! We can do it. We just have to swim together.”

  “We just did!” Rose looks at me like I’m stupid.

  “That’s not what I mean. We need to be synchronised.” The mermaids roll their eyes. “Trust me,” I say again and they let out what seems to be a collective sigh, moving back to their positions around the enormous boulder.

  “Alannah. Count again if you would,” I command her and she frowns slightly, I explain. “Once Alannah reaches three, each of us count in our heads… one… two. Each number is tied to a tail stroke. One is forward, two is back. Got it?” Suddenly they all look appeased and nod. Alannah clears her throat.

  “One, two… three!” I begin counting in my head and I see that the rest of the girls are doing the same. The way they usually move is so effortless, almost ghostly, but right now they’re going for pure strength and it’s not pretty. Some are red in the face, others have hair
floating into their eyes and Sophia in particular is breathing out, straining like a female body builder. If I weren’t holding so much weight, I’d be laughing my ass off. Truth is, I probably don’t look much better.

  The boulder shifts, and we move upward, taking its enormous earthy mass with us. We somehow all know which direction to move to dump it, and release its weight with a collective deep breath, revelling in the loss of such weight. The removal of such a massive boulder has rendered the blockage of the cave exit unstable and suddenly, in a massive mushroom cloud of dust and sand, the rockslide pile collapses again. I hold my breath, terrified that I’ve put a catastrophe into motion. I can’t move, can’t even speak until in one giant exhalation of song the baby humpback rises from the seabed hollow in which it was trapped. It rises quickly, swimming with miniature, unpractised strokes of its fluke. Finally, it breaks the surface above, gasping for air and blowing a large amount of water from its blowhole. Its mother is relieved, surfacing with her calf in one powerful push through the murky green water. As she immerses herself back in the chill, clear waters she begins to sing and then something extraordinary happens.

  “Callie… look,” Sophia says, breathlessly. Out of the shadows come more humpbacks.

  “It’s her family,” I say, in awe at the sheer number of whales in the pod. I see Orion looking stunned from the other size of the hole in the seabed. I smile slightly.

  From the murky blue of the Alaskan waters, that are illuminated by the low hanging sun, they move toward us slowly and in a way that is more than graceful.

  Thank.

  The word reaches me and I notice the baby humpback coming toward me. It rests before me as the mother whale watches us from a caring proximity.

  “You’re welcome,” I reach out as the rest of the mer watch me, moving forward to touch the baby’s face.

  “What’s your name?” I ask him. I get one very simple reply.

  We are blue.

  I don’t understand what that means. But I nod, guessing I’ll call him Blue and his mom Big Blue.

  The other whales are closing in on the mother and calf now, coming together in a crowd of giant hulking bodies that seem immovably beautiful. Big Blue’s voice echoes in my head.

  Dance.

  I shake my head, not knowing what that means. I turn away from the whales and see that the mer have gathered at my back.

  “I’m glad we could help, but we really need to keep moving,” Orion reminds me as Philippe shuffles from foot to foot at his side. Fahima is stroking his mane and Ghazi is holding her hand lovingly. I wonder if they’re talking in whispers only they can hear.

  I nod at Orion acknowledging his request and trying not to hold his eye contact for too long as Sophia comes over to me.

  “That was amazing. What did they say to you?”

  “Dance,” I repeat the word

  “What?” She looks at me and I shrug, turning toward them.

  Dance.

  The whale is insistent this time, turning to look at me intensely and I watch as something magical happens. Something that I can only describe as a silent ballet.

  ORION

  I want to look away. I want to break the hypnotising effect she has on me. I don’t want to stare upon her, but I can’t help it.

  Callie rises, moving among the whales with a kind of calm I haven’t seen from her before. Her movements are exact, effortlessly planned, flowing into one another. She’s usually so excitable in her movements, so careless and quick, but not any longer. Now she’s graceful, at peace.

  I catch a glimpse of her face as she moves closer to the surface and she’s beaming. Her long blonde hair is twisting around her in a torrent of gold and the light of the sun, finally reaching her from behind a mass of clouds, bathes her in peach splendour. The whales begin to sing, calling out in low harrowing song, moving around her in thanks for saving their calf. She spins, laughing loudly among them. They touch their pectoral fins to her and she grabs on, moving around in concentric circles, dancing.

  I turn to talk to the other mer, willing them to move on before my heart shatters, but Azure is eerily transfixed and beyond my reach somehow. I look around the rest of them, with their mouths hanging open and eyes wide as I turn away. I wouldn’t break the spell she has over them for the world, it’s the first time I’ve seen them overcome like this in the eternity I can remember knowing them. My eyes rest on the scene, and I feel something within me stir. Some epiphany that I’m yet to fully grasp.

  The light shines down, like a tonic after all the darkness that has covered our lives and the whales continue to sing. They erect themselves, their long bodies almost reaching the sea floor as their tails brush against the tall sea grass. They begin to spin, pirouetting and Callie follows. I wonder if they’re conversing with her, speaking in tongues that I can’t hear and all of a sudden I wish I was the one whispering to her. I wish I was the one making her beam and freeing her spirit from whatever burden that has been weighing on her. She’s so beautiful and her aquamarine eyes sparkle like precious stones as her scales shimmer.

  She raises her arms and throws her head back, allowing the light from the surface to cover her face. She’s laughing wildly, like nothing in the world could touch her. It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look, more beautiful than the night we first met, more stunning than even her descent down the staircase at the Lunar Sanctum before I accepted my crown. I run my hand through my hair, unable to look away, and letting myself surrender not only to the awe-inspiring nature of the scene before me, but the truth. No matter what happens with this woman, to this woman, no matter how she hurts me or how much I want to escape her stubbornness, it still isn’t over.

  It will never be over.

  The light hitting the ocean dissipates as the sun sinks below the horizon. The moment has passed.

  The whales still and something sacred passes between them and her. She smiles to herself, quietly content and then comes over to us, unable to wipe the ecstasy off her face.

  “They want to escort us,” she breathes.

  “Really?” Sophia bursts before I have a chance to respond.

  “Yes,” Callie replies, quickly glancing to Sophia, as though she’s distracted her and then at me. “What? Is there something on my face?” She’s suddenly removed from the pedestal of goddess like grace on which she’d danced, and is back to being a self-conscious teenager. I realise I’m staring in a most obvious manner and have to put myself in check. I feel embarrassed for the fact I can’t take my eyes off of her. I must look like such a schmuck.

  “No… uh. Sorry,” I shake my head, trying to clear the stupid out.

  “So we can go now?” Callie is waiting for my approval and I nod silently. She turns, looking to the pod of humpbacks and gesturing for them to follow. The mermaids pick up their weapons from the ground and Azure moves over to Philippe who is nibbling tentatively on sea grass nearby. The waters are dim now that the light of the day is almost gone and we travel in silence, our forms undulating together, surrounded by the massive shadows of the whales that aren’t so close to be intruding, but close enough to make sure we’re safe should any demons attack.

  As the night drives forward, lost in the din of far off echoes and chatter, I find myself confronted with something I’ve only ever seen once, something I’ve wanted to revisit but I had never found the time to travel so far north.

  “What is it?” Callie is curious, and her proximity, which I hadn’t noticed, is suddenly startling.

  “It’s the place where two seas meet. The Baltic Sea begins here. But it’s water doesn’t mix with that of the Gulf of Alaska, something about too much iron I think,” I explain, moving across the boundary and into the water deposited by glacial rivers. I shudder slightly, letting the cold wash over me. As a mer, it doesn’t affect me like it would a human, but it still feels too chilly for my liking.

  “You know everything,” Callie smiles. I remember her saying something similar to me when I had taken
her to the cave where I had counted my years alone, and my heart weeps nostalgia.

  “Not even close. I promise you,” I roll my eyes, thinking of all the things I wish that I did know. I wish I knew how to fix things with her. I wish I knew what she was thinking. Most of all I wish I knew how to be the kind of man and ruler she deserves. Sadly, on all of these I’m a blank slate.

  She’s silent, her eyes watching my face with intrigue. It’s like any ounce of anger or fear that was driving her before has evaporated. “Back there… I mean… wow,” I feel nervous. Like I’m talking to a stranger almost.

  “Don’t. There are no words. I don’t want to ruin it with classification or poor attempts at description.” Her face is an oxymoron of conflicted feeling. She breathes and a wave of calm engulfs her body.

  “Okay,” I exhale, not mad, just tired. I want to communicate, but it’s like we’re speaking two different languages.

  “This is awkward,” she whispers and I laugh.

  “Yeah, why is that?” I reply, feeling my gut twist with anxiety.

  “Maybe we’re just like the two sea’s that meet but don’t mix.” She has this inspired thought, spilling it in a moment of pure reckless abandon.

  “Don’t say that,” I whisper back, aware that the voices around us have ceased. I feel like I might cry. “I’m sorry… I just, I missed you,” I blurt the words without a second thought for my reputation, how weak I look by buckling under the weight of her absence.

  “I missed you, too,” she sighs. I start to respond, but she speaks again suddenly, not filtering what she’s saying. “We need to talk. I know that. But we can’t do it here. Everyone is staring,” she’s looking around, conscious of her actions as a ruler. It’s the first time I’ve seen her care about spilling our personal life to the entire mer population and it once again cements the fact that she’s matured.