Page 55 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
She couldn’t unravel the questions, so she sat back, watching the moon reflect on the still water as Arick rowed them toward the shore. With every stroke, his shirt stretched over his muscular shoulders. She knew from experience how strong he was physically.
His actions tonight spoke to his moral strength as well. How many people would act against their own to free prisoners? Especially ones of a different species?
And he’d been quick to grasp the unique problem of the voices — without her, the merfolk would be terrified of hearing him speak and wouldn’t follow him. Indeed, without being able to understand him, they wouldn’t know it was safe to follow him.
Yes, he was willing to help her people. But he wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice himself like Aunt Maeve described. Maybe Rona was right. Kissing him wouldn’t solve her problems.
Oh, but she wished for such a chance again.
A kiss wouldn’t stop her from turning to sea-foam. But maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be alone when she did so.
Arickrowedthelittleboat toward the shore, weaving around the rocks that had ripped apart the lifeboat he’d seen on his first night back in Iskarraig. How things had changed since that night.
The bow scraped against the rocky coast, and he sprang out to haul the boat farther out of the waves. His boots splashed in the shallow water, but the shore was deserted. When the hull was secured above the waterline, he offered his hand to Sorcha to help her out. She stepped over the side with grace. Even though he knew her feet still hurt inexplicably when she walked, she hid it well.
But her ability to hide her feelings had him wondering what she was thinking now. He curled his fingers around hers, not letting go of her hand even though she was now safely on land. Had he been too forward trying to kiss her? She had seemed willing until the other mermaid had interrupted.
He glanced down at her, his eyes drawn to her lips. What would it be like to kiss her? Now that he’d come so close once, he couldn’t stop wondering.
Time had gotten away from them, though, and they had to hurry if they wanted to hide away from the guards. The boat would stay there until later, and he was gambling on no one caring that it was there. If the rest of their plan went well, they’d need it.
The guard at the cliff door gave him a knowing smirk as he let them pass. Arick resisted the urge to set the record straight. If the guards started questioning his reasons for being on that stretch of shore at night, it would ruin everything.
Besides, the guard was only partly wrong. He had been enjoying being alone with Sorcha. Something about her belonged on the water. Even though she’d said little, she’d come to life out there, shining as if reflecting the starlit sea.
He understood why. The sea was freeing, uplifting; it embraced one’s soul even as it challenged one to survive. It was unpredictable and wild, yet home lay upon the waves.
His hand tightened around hers. When the coronation was over and he returned to his training, would she come with him? Would she join him in sailing across the world? Or would she want to stay here, near her family? The idea did funny things to his insides, a reminder of the pain that nestled there any time they were apart.
Wherever they went, they would have to go together. He found he didn’t mind the idea — but would she?
He opened the heavy door to the stairs and let her start the climb ahead of him. The first time they’d ascended these stairs together had been a struggle, and now he knew that it truly had been her first time ever trying steps. She’d come so far in only a couple of weeks. He laughed at himself. How could he not have known she was a mermaid from the start? The way she couldn’t walk, her lack of clothing, how she tried to swim away…
At the top, he checked that the long hall was empty and guided her out onto the terrace. The wind that had caressed them on the boat was stronger here, carrying a hint of the glaciers from the Maighdeann Sea. Sorcha shivered, and he wrapped his arm around her to share his warmth. He watched for any sign of her limping, ready to pick her up should she be in pain.
If he were honest, he wouldn’t mind the excuse to hold her in his arms once more.
She stumbled, and as he moved to support her, he stepped on the uneven stones. After ensuring she was steady on her feet, he knelt down to inspect the floor of the open terrace.
Although worn from centuries of use, the stones all around were as locked together as the day they had been laid. Except for right here.
Across the width of the terrace, the stones had shifted, one side lifting slightly above the height of the other.
“The storms,” he breathed, running his hand over the ridge.
“Storms?” Sorcha asked with a frown.
“They’ve damaged…” he paused, and shifted back so she could see his hands in the moonlight as he did his best to sign the words as he spoke. “The storms damaged the castle wall, moved the rocks perhaps. We’ll have to be careful.”
He got to his feet and offered his arm to her again. When she tucked her hand in his elbow, they continued along the terrace to the open level below the lighthouse.
They would wait here until it was time to head below and free the merfolk.
They leaned against the balustrade and watched the distant waves. Arick thought of asking her about life under the ocean, but he didn’t want to disrupt the peaceful moment with his halting use of speech and sign. She shivered again, and he drew her closer, using his body to shield her from the wind. She fit perfectly against him, her head the exact height for him to rest his chin on. Her red curls tickled his cheek, and he couldn’t resist nuzzling his nose into her hair. She stiffened, and he waited for her to pull away.
When she didn’t, he relaxed his arms, just enjoying holding her against him. Everything in him told him to ask her what she wanted, but he didn’t know how to make her understand.
Instead, he would show her how he felt, and she could choose.
