Page 45 of I Summon the Sea

The tritons are coming in fast, so damn fast.

A turbulence somewhere to my right catches my eye.

Good.I dive under, grab her long hair, and pull her away. She stops screaming, twisting about, panicking, and I have no plan. The one thing I know is that I may have no magic, but I have a slightly magical dagger.

I pull it out of its sodden sheath and scream, too, soundlessly, in rage.

Come and get us, ugly faces.

The dark-skinned woman is watching me with those pale eyes, as if she hopes I can actually save her.

I doubt it.

I should be heading for the platforms, not making a useless stand here with my stupid little dagger.

But I know the sea, I know how tritons hunt, and that turbulence may just save us.

The tritons are right in front of us now. They stop and surface, bare males from the waist up, humanoid but for the green tint of their skin and the jagged ears, the razor teeth, and those eyes… They are so close I can see the bright blue hue of their eyes, not like Arkin’s, but like inset gems of lapis lazuli.

“What are they waiting for?” the woman shrills, making a grab for me. I release her, then, not to let her drag me under. “Why aren’t they attacking?”

I glare at her, and thankfully she falls silent.

The monstrous mermen swim slightly closer, their eyes shifting, deep and layered like the sky at midday.

I know what they noticed. Not us, two small, thin women, barely enough meat on our bones. No, they prefer to hunt bigger prey.

By now we’re close to the turbulent water, and the yellow tint to the foam gives a hint of what’s underneath.

A herd of fanged hippocamps half-surface, half-horse and half-fish, looking for prey.

As I had hoped, the tritons turn toward the hippocamps, and one of them sounds the conch again, loudly and triumphantly.

The hunt is on.

With the human woman swimming now silently by my side, we watch the tritons dive deep into the water and make a beeline for the hippocamps.

“Oh, thank all the gods,” she breathes after a while, spitting out salt water. “Thank you, thank you, lady, would you?—?”

But I’m already swimming away from her. I was reckless, and I’m still not sure it wasn’t the most stupid thing I’ve ever done. I’ve wasted time, and the fewer humans left in the arena, the more chances of getting eaten, or so it seems to me.

I wonder where Athdara is? Has he been hauled to the deep, mauled by nokke and sylkies? Poisoned by giant jellyfish or bitten by poisonous sea snakes? Ripped apart by the mermaids?

So many options. And now is not the time to be thinking about him, his dark eyes and marked cheekbones, the windblown hair and powerful body?—

A cry. A man swimming ahead of me lets out that sharp sound and promptly goes under, vanishing in the deep.

A reminder to stop daydreaming and focus on getting out of the water.

Waves roll over the arena, rising higher. The platforms rock from side to side, connected loosely, moving independently. I see a few people on top already.

Climbing onto them doesn’t look easy. Their sides are steep and sleek, mirroring the islets, the walls, and the dark water, as if made of polished silver.

I have to crane my head to see the top of the nearest platform. I float before it, seeing myself on the polished surface—my eyes too wide in my white face, my body a ghost.

Almost there. But how to climb it? There has to be a way. Those people got up there somehow.

As I ponder this, I see someone swimming toward me with powerful strokes.

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