Page 37 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
The wound hadn’t healed at all. All that effort for nothing.
A knock sounded at the door, and the girl jumped up. Arick handed her a bundle of seaweed — the green kind — and backed away. Sorcha pushed aside her despondent thoughts. At least she could do this for the woman. The healing properties of the seaweed would keep infection out of the wound while it healed.
As she wrapped the seaweed in strips around the woman’s leg, she caught herself humming. The familiar movements of helping someone were soothing, and she hoped her voice wasn’t displeasing to the woman.
When she was done, she put the rest of the seaweed in a bowl of water to keep it fresh, and signaled to the girl that she should change them once a day. The woman had fallen asleep, her breaths coming soft and even. Perhaps the magic had worked a little bit after all.
Exhaustion settled on her like a cloak as she limped out the door. As soon as he saw her, Arick rushed over to offer his arm. She took it gratefully, the daggers in her feet easing as she leaned her weight into him.
He pointed at the sky. “Storm —”
She looked up. The haziness from earlier was gone, replaced by heavy clouds that gathered even as they watched. White caps formed on the waves, and tiny sailors ran back and forth on the pier far below them.
Sorcha swallowed against the dread of another night of terror and devastation.
Yet she couldn’t deny the hope that filled her. Maybe in the storm she could return home. To her family. To where she belonged.
Chapter ten
BythetimeSorchaand Arick had returned to the inn, the skies had opened. She climbed out of the cart and raced to the shelter of the building as he guided the pony back to the stables. She couldn’t bring herself to go inside, instead pressing against the rough walls.
Lightning flashed, and she gaped at the brightness, the vibrant white overpowering what little light was able to penetrate the clouds from the sun.
Arick ran through the rain, joining her in the narrow space under the eaves. “— help. — here, safe,” he said, his hands moving as he spoke. His signs were jerky, but the more he used them, the more amazed she was at how similar they were to the ones the merfolk used.
She shook her head, and started signing. “No, I’m coming with you.” Anything to avoid the pain of separation.
And she couldn’t deny the hope of seeing her family.
Seeing her resolution, Arick nodded. “Wait —” He hurried inside, and returned a few minutes later wearing a heavy coat with a hood drawn low over his head. He handed her a similar one and helped her into it. Thunder rumbled overhead, and she shivered. Everything was so much louder on land, the sounds sharper without the muffling effect of the water.
Thunder was not just louder; it was oppressive.
His hands settled on her shoulders, and he leaned down. Worry lines drew his hazel eyes together as he studied her face. Even through the heavy cloak, she could feel the warmth of his hands.
“— close. — water —”
She gave him a reassuring smile. He didn’t need to be worried about her. He couldn’t know, but she could swim far better than she could walk.
Except —
She couldn’t. Heat flooded her face as she remembered him pulling her from the water right after she’d gotten her legs.
She couldn’t swim as a human. Couldn’t breathe underwater as a human.
She was useless as a human.
Not that she’d been much more useful as a mermaid.
Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she tossed her head and forced a smile. “I’ll be careful.”
He grabbed her hand and hurried toward the harbor front. The rain grew heavier, and she gratefully tugged her hood lower. She bit her lip against the pain that came with each step. It was easier to run, springing away from the daggers, than to step carefully, and she kept pace with Arick.
Along the fingerlike piers, ships were tossing in the choppy water. Only a few smaller vessels had been out that day, and all around, sailors lent their hands to help secure them as they raced for safety.
Arick guided her to stand under the eaves of the building they’d visited a few days before. He leaned close to shout over the rain.
“Stay — help.”
