Page 57 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
Was the bond lessening? Was it done forcing them to be close to each other?
But the magic didn’t cause her yearning to be near him, the thrill that went through her when he said her name, nor the tingling that filled her when their hands brushed.
No, that was something wholly different.
For the first time, she let herself imagine what it would be like to stay on land — with him. To not return to Muiren would be difficult; she would miss her family, certainly. But if she were with him, would it be so bad? And maybe…maybe he would want her to stay too? Earlier, it had seemed like he wanted to tell her something, before Rona interrupted. Her face flushed at the memory, and she pushed the thought away lest he sense the way her heart was beating.
Folding her arms, she leaned against the wide rail, seeking peace from the white-capped waves below. Home had always been deep beneath the surface, and she had never thought of the wonders that lay beyond its borders. She thought of Ciara and her curiosity and desire to explore every part of the world. Is that where Ciara had gone? To find out more about the humans?
A pale head bobbed among the waves as Rona continued to search for Ciara, but there was no sign of the older sister’s black hair and purple fin. Should Sorcha go talk to Rona again? Mention the chance that Ciara was on land?
No. Rona would not countenance that. And there hadn’t been any storms the past few nights for Ciara to rescue a human.
Rona moved closer to shore, navigating the piles of square rocks. The moon reappeared from behind the clouds, revealing a man crouched on the rocks, inching closer to Rona. Sorcha leaned forward, ready to shout a warning to her sister, when Rona turned toward him. They spoke for a moment, Rona’s arms moving in a way that Sorcha recognized as her sister’s frustration. Rona turned in a huff, her hair flipping behind her, and vanished beneath the waves. The man crawled backward until he was away from the tumultuous sea and paused, glancing all around him. He looked up, startling when he saw Sorcha watching him.
There was something strange about him. Sorcha turned to call Arick to ask what he thought.
His name died on her lips as she watched Princess Ailsa grasp Arick’s sleeve and lean forward to speak into his ear.
In an instant, Sorcha knew that staying on land would be the worst thing imaginable. There was no way he could love her after learning what she was. To be cursed to be near him, all the while watching him love someone else — whether that were Ailsa or a different woman, it would be a pain far greater than the shards of glass that stabbed her soles with every step or the ache that threatened to crush her heart when they were apart.
No, it would be an agony that would tear at her very soul.
Arick deserved better than her. Sorcha turned away before her traitorous heart could convince her otherwise.
The wind picked up, buffeting her in its familiar embrace, and she missed the sounds of footsteps until they were nearly upon her. She turned, unable to deny the spark of joy at seeing Arick alone.
But he didn’t reach for her, stopping a few paces away to sign in the pale light of the moon. “Thomas isn’t coming. He’s staying to convince the king again. Ailsa will distract the guard. We should go.”
His lean hands shaped the words, more confident now that he’d started practicing again. And his strange language no longer sounded so odd to her ears.
But she couldn’t stay. Not when he’d fall in love with a human girl someday. No. Tonight would be her last. She’d return to the sea one way or another.
She took his offered arm, thrilling in the strength of his corded muscles one last time as they stepped into the darkness that led beneath the lighthouse to the dungeons. Down, down they went as the sea roared against the rocks and the clouds obscured the moonlight.
They paused on the stairs by one of the slit windows that overlooked the rocks. The wind, even stronger now, drove the rain inside. Arick leaned one shoulder against the edge, his head getting wet as he watched below. He still clung to her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin in a way that sent shivers up her arm.
They waited only a few minutes before Ailsa’s handkerchief appeared at the embrasure below them. The scrap of white was immediately caught by the wind and carried away into the night. The first flash of lightning filled the stairwell as they hurried down the last few turns to the bottom.
A heaviness filled her as they neared the door to the flooded cavern. The guard was gone for now, but it wasn’t the risk of being caught that made her footsteps slow. It was the dread that filled the cavern, fueled by the desperation of the prisoners who had struggled in vain for months to escape.
A haunting melody greeted them as Arick pressed open the door, a tune of longing and despair. Tears pricked her eyes as she recognized the dirge, sung only when one of the mer were sent on the current out to sea, never to return.
She rushed forward to the edge of the lagoon, desperate to know for whom they sang. Had they taken too long to rescue them? “Who? Please, who is…?”
She couldn’t form the words, and they didn’t give her a chance to either. Upon seeing her and Arick, the merfolk broke off singing, raising their voices in cacophony instead.
“No! It’s me,” she shouted above them. “I’m one of you!”
At last, two mer near her recognized she was speaking their language and signaled for the others to quiet down.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” One of the younger merfolk, his hair floating around him like seaweed, narrowed his eyes at her.
“I’m a mermaid. I…” She didn’t know how to explain. “That doesn’t matter. We’re here to help you.”
“He’s a human,” one of the older mer spat, his voice tight with distrust. Others drew closer, eyes narrowing as they gathered around where Sorcha and Arick stood, fins stirring the water.
“Yes, but he won’t speak. He’s the only one who can open the gate.”
