Page 46 of I Summon the Sea

It’s a blond man. Not Athdara. And disappointment shouldn’t crush me now.

As he approaches, I decide I don’t like the look on his face and paddle backward, away from the platforms and the man, suspicious of his motives.

And I was right. His eyes are bleak, stark with determination as he keeps coming toward me. With a snarl, he grabs me, hauls me back toward the collection of platforms, and pushes me down. He plans to use me as a step to climb onto the platform, I realize, not caring if it kills me.

Despair whispers bad, wicked things in your ear, I know, but it also gives you extraordinary strength before it sucks it all out.

I struggle against him, but he’s stronger. He climbs on top of me, and I go under, fighting his hold, the water, the fish nipping at my bare heels.

Soon enough, bigger things will come for me, and time is running out together with the air in my lungs.

So the moment his feet land on my shoulders, I do the opposite of what he expects and sink deeper.

And deeper.

So deep I can see movement—watersprights slinking through the sea, fish chasing other fish, a triton chasing a mermaid, a jellyfish big like a boat wreck, bobbing, flashing purple signals.

I sink until I’m free of him, until his hands and feet are no longer pressing down on me.

Free.

The mermaid I saw comes back for me, though, and catches my arm as I try to swim away. Her huge aquamarine eyes observe me as I struggle, as I panic because my air is running out.

“By the boy you once loved,” she says, bubbles floating out of her mouth. Her powerful tail undulates in the water. “Come back to us. Your betrothed is worried.”

The boy I loved is gone, I try to say, thinking of grave gray eyes, flopping pale hair, and a smile like a sunrise.Gone. And the prince the sea queen wants to wed me to isn’t yet my betrothed, nor does he give a rat’s ass about me.

“Nothing is ever really gone,” she sings. “Nothing ever dies.”

I try to push her off, to push off the sorrow welling inside me at her words and the memories seeping to the surface of my mind.

The song stops, and she says, “I’m Alys. Find me when you next dive deep, and we’ll talk.”

Wait, I think, but she releases me suddenly, swimming away into the dark depths.

My eyes sting from the salt—it’s just salt, I tell myself, not tears—and my lungs burn as I rise to the surface. Gasping, I look around, making sure no sharks or sylphs are lurking.

Then I swim around the platforms, struggling and flailing as the waves pummel me, crashing against the metal mirrors.

Me. Flailing in the sea. Who would have thought?

I have to get up there while keeping an eye out for more humans desperate enough to drown me and use me as a step up to safety.

People will always look out for themselves. Selfish, self-centered. It doesn’t matter if there are exceptions out there.

Always consider the other contestants with suspicion. It could mean the difference between life and death.

I don’t see that many people in the water anymore. If they all die, the creatures of the deep will come for me, and I haven’t figured out the way up yet, unless…

Wait.

Creases in the gleaming surface catch my eye. Could they be used as handholds? Can I reach them?

A wave lifts me up, and I reach for the platform—right before the wall of water smashes me against that gleaming side.

I go under, choking on water. Then I surface again, spluttering. My arm, injured since the boat, screams agony up my shoulder. A scratch on my cheek burns, blood mixing with the salt water on my lips, turning the salty into sweet.

Like hells I’m giving up, though. If I use the next wave to reach the handholds, then I can scale the damn mirror and get up there, see what else is waiting for me.

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