I fight to even out my breathing. Panic won’t do any good. I pause only long enough to untangle a sharp shard of cockle shell from the kelp. While I swim, I use it to cut off the cap sleeves and the fabric that covers my abdomen. At least the fabric is metallic. Most Mer clothing sparkles or shines with precious gems or pieces of shell, so from far away my ripped shirt will now pass for a siluess. But up close, it’ll look like polyester.
I’ll just have to make sure I don’t get close to anyone. With the population so decimated from the curse and the wars, I should be fine as long as I stay away from Mer settlements. Of course, the bond could be leading me straight into the ocean’s most populated village. All I can do is hope that’s not the case.
I’ll have to stay as close to the surface as I can for as long as I can. That’s the best I can do. Avoiding the occasional boat will be a small price to pay for the comfort of sunlight and the diminished risk of encountering other Mer. Having a plan soothes my nerves.
Until another pull from the bond destroys that plan. My insides lurch as the bond urges me downward. I stare at the endlessness of the water stretching below me, and I dive deeper.
And deeper.
And deeper.
I’ve never been this deep. The expanse of ocean on my side of the Border doesn’t go down this far. The water here is murkier, rich with minerals, and it takes my eyes time to adjust.
My vision sharpens just in time for me to dart out of the way. A pack of four sea horses glides in my direction, and my mouth gapes open as I gaze at the colorful, stately creatures. These aren’t the itty-bitty things I’ve held in my hands. Each of these is as big as a, well, as a horse.
They’re all so dazzlingly beautiful, it almost hurts to look at them. These are the creatures my ancestors rode across the ocean for generations. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve dreamt of seeing one, but they only live down deep. Undiscovered by humans. The stuff of legend.
One changes from light pink to deep purple as he swims in front of a towering purple rock. His companion dips its bright yellow head in my direction, inviting me to follow. Oh, how I wish I could. How I wish I could pet them and ride them into safer waters. Instead, I let the majestic animals continue past me, and I push myself forward with my fin. I glance back over my shoulder and watch them grow small with distance. Once they’re out of sight, loneliness settles over me, seeps into me.
Eventually, all traces of sunlight disappear. The water grows colder. Colder than I’ve ever felt. My skin is smoother than a human’s for added water resistance, but it’s also much thicker. So, while I’m aware of the cold, it doesn’t bother me. But if Clay’s down here and somehow still alive, he must be freezing.
The deeper I go, the more the water pushes against my arms and tail. I cycle through different strokes to keep my muscles from tiring, but at the speed I’m compelling myself to travel, it’s a losing battle.
Then I’m forced to slow down as the waters in front of me darken further, and a shiver spiders its way up my spine. For miles on either side of me, and rising so high over my head I can’t see where it stops, a forest of dense black coral blocks my path, swaying menacingly in the current. I gulp, my head snapping from side to side, searching for any way around, any way over, any way but through. The scared little girl part of me—the part I’ve been fighting since I crossed the Border, no, since I saw Clay’s empty room—that part wants to cry as another fateful yank at my center from the bond pulls me forward, dragging me straight into the thick, sharp blackness.
I grit my teeth and swim ahead, letting that blackness swallow me. Once I’m inside, I can see next to nothing. Even with my enhanced eyesight, I only make out vague shapes of what’s right in front of me. Skeletal stalks of spiny coral wind upward from the ocean floor, pressing in on me from all sides, grabbing at me like crooked, bony fingers. I have to make my way forward—there’s no other option—so I stretch my arms in front of me, feeling my way blindly as I twist my body this way and that, weaving through the stony, treacherous spikes.
Ah! Pain sears my skin as a jagged spine of coral scrapes along my forearm. Don’t be bleeding. Please, don’t be bleeding. One open wound, one drop of blood, and I’ll attract every shark from miles around. Since Mer blood smells like whale or seal blood to sharks, it whets their appetites even more than human blood does. If I’m bleeding and I ever make it out of this forest, I won’t survive long enough to stop Melusine. I jerk my arm close to my body, squinting at the red welt there. I suck on it but don’t taste the telltale copper of blood. Just a scratch. My whole body sags in relief, sending my tail colliding into more of the knife-like coral spokes. I shrink in on myself before any can pierce my scales, not daring to twitch another muscle.
What am I going to do? The outlines of the coral skeletons that trap me appear more sinister than ever. Monstrous.
Any move I make will risk injury, blood I can’t dare spill. But I can’t just stay here paralyzed forever.
Do it for Clay. Get to Clay.
I repeat the words to myself as I reach my arms back out, give my tail the smallest of flutters, and inch my way onward. In the silence, a quiet but constant crunching meets my ears, alerting me to the hundreds of sea creatures that lurk in this forest, feeding on whatever they’ve managed to sink their teeth into today. I’m surrounded.
Now that I’ve focused on it, the sound magnifies, making me that much more desperate to escape. With strokes even slower and more calculated than before, I weave my way over and under, beneath and between. When blessed blue peeks through the black up ahead, I want to weep with joy. It’s the first sign I might actually make it out of this hellish darkness. I arch my back and extend my tail all the way as I writhe through a tight gap in the coral toward that promise of blue openness. I’m going to make it, I’m—
I suck water through my teeth as I’m yanked backward. A glance down at my fin makes me want to curse; it’s caught between two of the spiny, black branches. Wincing, I twist around to examine it, and my hip jostles another large stalk.
A pair of glowing, yellow eyes pierce the darkness.
They blink open right behind me and send my heartbeat skittering. Images of a medieval sea serpent or a giant squid that could squeeze the life from me plague my imagination. I twitch my tail back and forth, frantic to get free. Those yellow eyes inch closer to me, and all of a sudden, I’m panting, nearly hyperventilating as my gills flap faster and faster. It takes all my willpower not to just rip my fin free. I tell myself those glowing, terrifying eyes belong to something harmless, a manta ray maybe or a large crab, and force myself with all my might to believe it. Without making any sudden movements, and being careful to only touch the coral where it isn’t sharp, I pull back one of the branches at the same time that I curl the now-bruised left point of my tail inward.
It works! With my tail free, I glance back at those eyes, growing ever closer. Belonging to I-don’t-want-to-know-what. A resounding snap! makes me jump, heart clanking against my ribs now. Teeth? Could it be massive, snapping teeth?
I’m halfway through the gap; if I can just make it out … My body undulates through the barbed branches that jut out at every angle. With one last powerful thrust of my tail, I propel myself forward.
A loud thrashing and grinding behind me tell me whatever was following me is stuck in the sharp coral barbs.
Free at last from the forest’s clutches, I surge forward without looking back, emerging into the freedom of open ocean. I’m about to let the relief wash over me when I look down at the most devastating sight I’ve ever seen.
A battlefield stretches out below me, the ocean floor strewn with spears, swords, and bodies. So much gore. So much blood. It stains the sand. Body parts litter the ground. Tails of every color lie sliced open—a macabre jewel box spattered with red and crusted brown. Turned up faces stare at me with vacant eyes.
It’s scenes like this that I’ve been sheltered from my entire life. I’m frozen in
place, eyes fixed on the massacre below me. What caused these senseless deaths? Were they fighting to depose another self-proclaimed leader? Were they throwing away their lives to install someone new? Someone who tempted them with promises of breaking the curse, of restoring immortality? Or had they lost hope altogether and turned to violence and anarchy out of desperation?
Permanent agony contorts each lifeless face. So much suffering. Bodies battered and bloody, limbs twisted at odd angles, fins hacked off.
My stomach seizes. I can’t let myself be sick here; I can’t defile these dead any further. I kick my fin and launch myself behind a thicket of fan coral just before I lose my meager breakfast. Wiping my face with the back of my hand, I move to straighten up. Voices. I duck back down.
“This sword’ll be all right. Once we clean it off,” one rough voice says in Mermese as it gets closer.
“These will fetch something, too,” another, even gruffer voice replies. Through the coral, I can see a hairy hand rip a strand of polished limpets off a fallen fighter’s chest. “You won’t miss it, will ya, fella?” He nudges the body with his tail, and the head lolls toward the side, the glassy eyes staring into mine where I duck down low. Stuffing the limpets into a sack, the thief laughs.
I curl my tail toward my chest, making myself as small as possible. If these men plan to sell the stolen possessions of the dead, just what would they do with me if they found me? From my hiding place, I can see both of them are large and burly, with corded muscle winding like sailing rope beneath their skin. A layer of thick hair covers their chests and arms. One bears a squid ink tattoo of a tiger shark on his bicep. If they see me, I won’t stand a chance of fighting them off. As they pick their way through the gore, moving closer to me with every body they disturb, I will myself to be invisible.
“Let’s do a sweep of the coral. A stingray spear could’ve rolled in there.”
Every one of my muscles tenses.
“Nah, brother. I got more than I can carry as it is. We oughta get outa here before the sharks come and feast on all this.”
“Guess you’re right. I’m hungry anyway. Starril must be getting lunch ready by now.”
“Bet that’s not all she’s getting ready.”
Only once their crude jokes and barking laughter fade out of earshot do I relax. I peek over the coral, but there’s no one else. With one last, mournful glance at the destruction, I swim away from the scores of dead fighters.
The bond pulls me farther and farther out to sea. I’m deep enough now that the ocean floor stays in my sights. I’m too deep to see any trace of the sun, but I’ve been swimming for so many hours that it’s undoubtedly set already. What did my parents think when I missed dinner? When they called Caspian and realized I didn’t spend the day with him? They must be worried. Are they looking for me? It would never occur to them that I’d swim out past the Border, so if they are searching, that means my dad is driving around Malibu, stopping at every sushi restaurant and yogurt shop, while my mom and sisters call all my school friends. If I weren’t so worried about Clay, I’d feel terrible about it. But right now, my focus needs to be on getting to him.
What looks like a settlement comes into view below me. My instincts scream at me to hide before someone sees me. But as I inch closer, the town’s utter disrepair tells me it’s been long abandoned.
Homes and buildings made of what once must have been pristine white coral and polished stone are covered with algae. Amber windows are cracked and spires towering upward from rooftops have entire chunks missing. An eel slithers between broken ceiling beams. A tentacle peeks out at me from the opened doorway of a dark dwelling some creature now calls home. Weeds shoot up through the seashell-tiled streets.
Anything valuable has been stripped by looters, but remnants of life still linger here and there. A kelp doll lies half-buried in the sand. Urchins and anemones overrun carefully laid seaflower beds. As I pass each abandoned house and storefront, I can almost feel the hustle and bustle, hear the echo of store clerks and shoppers, of families with children. Where did they all go? Are they hiding in far off caves from the constant battles? Are they dead?
The bond pulls me through the eerily beautiful streets until I reach what’s left of the deserted town square. There, looming above me and the rest of the settlement, is a castle of crystalized ice and the same white coral. I try to picture it as the gleaming structure it must have been, but it’s hard to see past the dinginess from decades of grime. The many towers that twist into the blue water above are gray with barnacles. The oyster shells lining its roof and pathways—once regal and shining—are splintered and filthy, the pearls ripped from their bellies long ago. But even in its ruin, the palace is impressive. I swim a few feet closer and suddenly, the bond stops short.
No more pull. Just a gentle, pulsing sensation telling me I’ve arrived. Whatever Melusine is doing to Clay, she’s doing it in that castle. Kicking my tail, I move through the arching entranceway into the darkness within.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I swim alone into the elegant, decaying entrance hall. I’m hoping Melusine and her father will be distracted by the intricacies of whatever magic they’re performing. With any luck, I can get Clay before they notice me, and we can make a break for it. Since we’re in the water, I should be able to pull his extra weight without much trouble. It’s not much of a plan, but it’s all I have.
I expect to see Melusine fin-deep in an ancient ritual. I expect to see her father brewing some sickly-colored potion. I expect to see more creepy symbols defacing the walls. But I don’t. I don’t see anything. Because before my eyes can properly adjust to the darkness, someone grabs me from behind.
I struggle to pull my arms free. When I fail, I kick my tail, sending up swirls of sand and current. Then, whoever’s behind me presses wadded up kelp against my mouth and nose. A second pair of hands closes over the gills on either side of my neck. I thrash my head back and forth, trying to dislodge them, but it’s no use. I’m breathing in whatever noxious potion is on the kelp, and I’m growing dizzier by the second. Soon, all I see is black.
Pushing up the dead weight of my eyelids is a struggle. Once I manage it, I wish they were shut again because the sight that greets me is worse than any I could have imagined. Clay, bound from his shoulders to his ankles in seaweed with his face bruised and bloody, floats several feet in front of me, his eyes glued shut by the layer of ice clinging to his eyelashes. His skin a frosty, death-like blue.
My screams pierce the water.
“Relax.” The saccharine voice is too calm, too cool. “He’s alive. For now.”
I drag my eyes away from Clay and focus them on her. We must be in one of the other rooms of the palace. My intuition tells me we’re deep inside. Huge chunks of the columns that hold up the arched ceiling lie like ruins across the floor. An intricate mosaic of abalone, mother of pearl, and troca shell pieces peeks through layers of sand and dirt. I only catch sight of it because it shimmers in the light from above. About a hundred transparent, glowing jellyfish are strung around the large chamber like Chinese lanterns, casting the room in a greenish sheen.
Melusine wades in the center of it all, casually flicking her tail with the current. I want to lunge at her, want to rush to Clay, but I can’t do either. I, too, am bound in seaweed. It winds too tightly around my arms, pinning them behind my back. Then it loops downward around my tail, yanking my fin up toward my tied hands. It’s almost too painful to bear and renders me helpless. I pull at my bonds, hard, but it’s no use.
“What have you done to him?” I demand instead.
“It’s a rather ingenious potion, if I do say so myself.” Mr. Havelock sounds far too pleased with himself. He isn’t looking at me; he’s swimming at a steep angle, facing downward so he can draw more symbols on the dirty ground. “It brings the human body temperature down nearly to freezing point, suspending function and making it possible for him to stand the temperature and the pressure t
his far down. It also keeps him breathing.”
“But it doesn’t last long,” Melusine adds. She swims between me and Clay. “I’d give it till sunrise, tops. After that, his breath will stop.”
Sunrise? How long until sunrise? How long was I unconscious?
Melusine leans close, her sapphire eyes cutting into mine. “It’s in about two hours,” she says, answering my unspoken question. “But don’t worry, you’ll be saying goodbye to lover boy long before that. We’re almost ready.”
“Ready for what? What are you going to do to him?” I tug at my bonds again. Ow.
She gives me an indulgent smile, as if I were a small child. “Why, kill him, of course. How else did you think this would end?”
I stop moving. “Why? Why Clay?” I don’t understand. “Is this all because he tried to break up with you?” Even as I say it, I know how stupid it sounds, but why else would she have it in for him?
She laughs so hard, bubbles erupt near her mouth. “Tides, Lia, just how high school can you be?” Her lips curl into a superior smile. “You still have no idea who he is, do you?”
Emerge Page 24