The stone bowl creaks under the strength of my grip. I blink, partly withdrawing my attention from the pool. My knuckles stain blue. But before I can sever my spell, a light catches my eye.
Somewhere, in the crystal blue expanse of the Rime, a bright flash of color. I intensify my spell, zooming in on the spot.
Scales, not light. Bright golden scales shimmer in a monochromatic sea. And they belong to a mermaid.
My stomach flips over.
She’s beautiful.
She executes a somersault, arching her back and tucking head over tail. The signs of magical lineage are there—featuressmoothed by magic, earth-toned skin blending into a colorful tail. Long, dark hair fans around her. Two starfish cover her ample breasts, the planes of her stomach soft and bare. Her tail, brilliant as the sun, ends in feathered yellow fins, flowing like a sunfish. Her petite hands are clasped above her head, driving her dive.
As her face circles into view, I catch her smile. Sweet, plump lips. Her eyes pop open. Two brown orbs, flashing with mischief beneath thick, dark lashes.
My stomach bottoms out. It’s like she’s looking right at me. But I grip the bowl, rooting myself in my chair. I’m safe at home. It’s a fluke. A coincidence. She can’t see me.
A pod of glosswhales rises from the deep, pumping toward the surface. Bubbles churn in a path behind them as their slick gray bodies cut the water with ease.
Her mouth opens, and bubbles escape. The sight-pool silences her song as her lips quiver, forming a Voice I cannot hear.A siren.
The glosswhales approach, circling the siren with curiosity. She watches them, reaching out with her hands to stroke their noses. Petting them and puckering her lips. Her fingers tickle the underside of one’s chin.
She giggles, and my stomach twists as I wonder what it might sound like. Light and melodic? Bright as her scales? Or would she have a deeper rasp, one to match the mischief in her eyes? Those watchful, haunting eyes.
The scales rise along my neck. She has no right to have eyes like that. In one glance, she’s unraveled me. My body no longer feels my own—my stomach is tied in knots, my heart thunders, and my breath catches. I long to reach into the pool, to snatch her up, to fold myself into her being. To dissolve in her warm, playful gaze.
I shake my head to clear the pang of desire. A siren with such power over my senses—she must be dangerous.
She pumps her tail, leading the glosswhales toward the surface. I turn my spell, squinting as the aethersky streams from above. They break the waterline, threading it with bubbles.
What is she doing in my Rime?
My stomach twists tighter still. Who is this outsider, giggling in the middle of my domain like she owns these waters? I’ve never seen this female in my life. I’m the fucking king. I should know if an outsider infiltrated my ranks.
Doesn’t she know she’s in danger? Can she be so naïve to enter a foreign territory to play with whales? A clawbeast lives here.I live here.
My hands chill. Ice crawls over the surface of the sight-pool, frosting my view.
She is not welcome in the Rime.
Outsiders can never know my secret. A cursed king still in power? They’d flay me on the political scene. Chase me from my home, turn my kingdom over to the dredgebeasts.
My family may be wretched, but we’ve earned the right to keep our secrets. Outsiders have no place here. My business ismine. My own.
I study her soft skin, the way the chilly water laces over her. A sun-drencher will not last long here. Either the Rime will take her or the clawbeast will.
What if she’s a spy? Or worse, a death-dealer?My spine erects at the thought.
Do the other kingdoms finally suspect something? I should have accepted that invitation to the Estuary Queen’s latest flower festival, to avoid suspicion. When was that? Six moon-cycles ago?
There was blood on my beach. No way could I have left.
Perhaps I should have sent an ambassador in my stead.
Fuck.
My heart thunders, an echo of its pulse thrumming at my temple.
I snap my teeth, ending my spell. The water’s glow snuffs out in an instant, casting me into darkness once again.