Page 107 of Beneath the Haunting Sea

Wen was tugging her away, away, but she wouldn’t go. At last he released her, hovering just above her head. She treaded water, ice seeping into her bones.

Over and over the serpents lunged at the Whale, again and again he shook them off. But Talia could see he grew weaker with every attack. She could not bearto watch, and she could not bear to look away.

The serpents drew back once more, torn and bloodied, their scales dripping red. For an instant Talia thought it was over, that the Whale had won.

But then they coiled themselves and sprang at the Whale one last time. He turned to meet them full on.

There came a noise like water breaking on stone, then the notes of the Whale’s song wavered, andwent out. The white Tree shuddered like a knife had gone into its heart.

“No!” Talia roared.“No!”

But the Whale lay dead in the midst of the sea, the serpents’ broken bodies beside him. Their mingled blood stained the water.

Wen’s claws bit into her shoulder again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the Whale’s body.

The sea washed over her, and she felt its anger creeping into her.

TheWords the Whale had taught her resounded strong in her mind, and she turned her eyes to the Tree. She would not let the Whale’s death be in vain.

It was time to do what she had come all this way to do.

Once more she shook Wen off her shoulder and he let her go, but he did not fly away.

She looked up at him, fear and grief raw inside her. “Please go home, Wen.Please.Don’t follow me. You can’thelp me now.”

And then she took a deep breath, and finally, finally, spoke aloud four of the Words the Whale had taught her.

Pain exploded in her body and she knew she was screaming, but the sound seemed to come from outside of herself. She felt her skin fall away, felt her bones crack and change. Her muscles broke and her lungs burned and she saw her hair lying loose and dark in the water besideher. Fire coursed through her veins, and the sea closed over her head and choked her breath away.

Chapter Forty-Eight

THE NEXT MOMENT THE PAIN VANISHED ANDshe could breathe again, even though she was still under water.

The Whale had told her how to turn herself into a fish. He’d also taught her Words to bind and protect her in her human form beneath the sea, but they would only hold a little while.

She could see everything now, the delicate shifting shades of the water, the colors of thealgae drifting by, an odd lumpy shape she felt sure was important, the red stain of the Whale’s blood—or was it her own blood? She shuddered, and swam toward the Tree.

The water parted easily, and she drew close enough she could have touched the Tree if she still had hands. There were tiny patterns in the bark, swirled and notched like fingerprints. She stared at the trunk, dread weighing heavy.

There was no turning back.

She dove into the sea, down and down and down. Glancing back, she saw the silhouette of a huge seabird swimming after her.He will die for the love of you,she heard the Whale say.Die for the love of you.

But she didn’t know how to save him.

She followed the Tree as she swam downward, a gleaming white road to the bottom of the sea. The girth of the trunk grew rapidlyas she went, and after a while she could no longer see all the way around it.

The water was murky and dull, and the muffled weight of an impenetrable silence echoed all around.

A ghostly face appeared before her, translucent and green, its dead mouth open in a silent cry. She jerked herself away from it and nearly collided with another face, twisted in agony, it too soundlessly screaming.

And then there were faces everywhere, crowding around her as she swam: wavering images of men and women and children, all of them in anguish, all of them shrieking without voices. They had no bodies, no hands to reach for her—they were just the echo of people, faces pressed up against a window.

She tried not to look into their eyes. She tried not to be caught in their despair. She tried not toshudder as she swam on—through them—ghostly mist clinging to her scales.

Music sprang suddenly into being, eerie and awful and filled with fear, nearly deafening her after the long silence. It was the opposite of the Whale’s song—it made her want to hide from watching eyes and crawling worms. It filled her with shame, every dark thing she’d ever done rushing into her consciousness. She wantedto die, because only death could free her from the music, the darkness, the regret.

Screams mingled with the song, the haunted cries of the ghostly faces all at once magnified beyond bearing. She could not shut them out.

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