Page 9 of Beacon

My gaze snapped up as the man coughed up a mouthful of seawater. Relief, so acute I felt light-headed, washed over me. I hadn’t killed him after all. I helped him roll over and patted his back; he coughed up more water before falling back with a groan and going still once more; only the subtle rising and falling of his chest assured me he was still alive.

I scanned his body for injuries and found a large bump on his head where the mast must have struck him, sending him overboard and rendering him unconscious. Thankfully, that appeared to be the only injury, at least from what I could see. Still, I remained by his side, obsessively watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he took one raspy breath after another.

Octavius wandered over, his look rather suspicious for an octopus as he took in the stranger. He gave the man’s arm a little poke, but he didn’t stir. Octavius poked him again, only stopping when I gave him a scolding look. He drooped in remorse and sidled over to my side. I patted his head and returned my attention to the man.

I continued to wait, but no matter how long I sat there, the man didn’t move. My helplessness grew the longer he remained still. Why wasn’t he moving? His ship was inching slowly towards the shore, leaving him entirely in my care until help arrived, and yet I was failing him.

Anxiety cinched my chest…until an idea suddenly occurred to me. With my magic’s return, I felt the familiar desire stir within me to sing, one I’d kept locked away for as long as I’d given up the rest of my voice, despite the fact that the ocean seemed to have purposefully left behind the part that connected me to it.

I gave my head a rigid shake. No, singing would only make the situation worse, especially with how unpracticed my powers were now. But the magic continued to tantalize my mind. I did my best to resist the desire, but the longer the man remained unconscious, the tauter my nerves became, leaving me desperate for a reprieve.

I softly began to hum one of my favorite water songs I used to sing to bring me comfort as a little girl with all that my absent voice could manage. With each note, the man relaxed into the sand as if the song provided him healing from his ordeal. Warmth settled over me with each trill, a soothing feeling I hadn’t experienced in years, healing a portion of me as well.

I continued to hum, finishing one song and beginning another. After my third, the man’s eyes slowly opened. My breath caught and I cut my song off mid-note.

“Please don’t stop singing,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

At his words, the spell shattered and the full implications of my actions settled over me, causing horror to constrict my lungs so tightly that I could scarcely breathe. How could I have been so foolish as tohumwhen I was so near the water and my powers wandered from where I’d buried them all those years ago?

The stranger seemed to be waiting for me to speak, but even if I could have, I was too horrified by my actions to manage a single sound. When I remained silent, he simply shrugged and struggled to sit up before falling back with a groan.

“Ow, my head…”

I tapped the spot on his temple near his bleeding bump. His fingers grazed my hand as they fluttered up to it; I hastily yanked away, but he didn’t seem to notice as he poked and prodded his hair, wincing with each touch.

He moaned again. “What…happened?”

I pointed towards the ship now nearing the shore; several sailors stood on deck, gesturing towards us. The stranger blinked at them for a moment before slowly taking in the beach where he lay. His eyes widened.

“I remember now. I fell overboard, and then…” He gasped as the remaining pieces of his memory snapped into place. He turned to me in astonishment. “Didyourescue me?”

I hesitated before nodding once. He continued staring in disbelief before his expression softened into awe.

“Thank you.”

My cheeks warmed as I lowered my eyes, only looking up when the man shakily propped himself up in a half-sitting position; I awkwardly helped him, earning me another grateful smile.

“Thank you, you’re very kind. I owe you my life, a debt I can never hope to repay. Might I know the name of my rescuer?”

I said nothing. He waited a moment before giving a quiet, awkward laugh.

“Forgive me, I’m going about this introduction in the wrong way. I suppose formality must be followed even when I’m lying on the shore in a most undignified manner and you’re covered in sand.”

My hand flew to my face, coated in a layer of sand, which also covered my arms and the front of my soaked dress. My hair didn’t fare much better; it was a chaos of wet clumps with several pieces of seaweed tangled in my strawberry-blonde locks. The heat already filling my cheeks deepened.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” the man said gently. “It suits a woman as brave as you.”

Easy for him to say—despite both of us having endured the sea, this man had somehow avoided being coated with sand and seaweed; he looked ridiculously presentable considering he’d nearly drowned. The beacon’s light illuminated his well-defined features, a strong jaw, tousled brown hair, and rather deep blue eyes that twinkled with the same mischief tugging on his smile. His friendly manner somehow made me feel more embarrassed.

“My name is Owen. What’s yours?”

I remained silent. He frowned.

“Shy, are you? Surely someone as brave as you can talk to a man foolish enough to almost get himself drowned. Won’t you—”

He fell silent as a cry sounded from behind us. We turned towards the sound. The ship had docked on the opposite side of the island and several sailors were hurrying towards us. “Prince Owen!”

I stilled.PrinceOwen? I gaped at the man, only now noticing the fine quality of his drenched clothes and the rather regal tilt of his head. Mortification seeped over me. I’d just rescued aprince? And now I sat here beside him covered in sand and seaweed and…oh.Oh!

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