Page 83 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
Sorcha raised the sword overhead and hurled it with all her strength.
The blade spun through the air, end over end, aimed straight for the bracer.
A crack of sound split the cavern, sharper than lightning.
Water exploded upward in a furious wave.
The stone beneath her feet shook.
Light consumed everything.
Sorcha collapsed to the ground as the blast swallowed her whole.
Thevoiceofanangel pulled Arick from the dark.
“Hush, little mermaid, close your eyes,” sang the voice, each word brushing against him like a wave.
The melody wrapped around him, familiar and haunting, threading through the cracks of pain like a balm. He floated in it, adrift in sound, until something warm and alive tugged him back toward himself.
The scent of salt and rain lingered in the air, cut through with a faint metallic tang. A chill clung to the damp stone beneath his back, and water lapped softly at his boots.
The burning pain in his side ebbed, replaced by a deep tingling that spread through his chest and limbs. Breathing no longer felt like being stabbed. He drew a slow, shaky breath and let it settle.
“Rest in the embrace of the starlit sea,” the song continued, each note more powerful than the last.
The words had healed him once before, when he was half dead beneath the ocean’s surface. He’d thought it a dream. A final mercy. But now it wove through the air again, real and raw and impossibly gentle.
He forced his eyes open.
Shadows danced across the stone from a flickering brazier somewhere nearby. The distant roar of the storm was gone, replaced by gentle lapping as the floodwaters receded.
And kneeling beside him, haloed by curling red hair and firelight, was Sorcha.
Not an angel. A mermaid.
Her lips moved with the lullaby, her voice trembling slightly but sure in its melody. Her soaked dress clung to her frame, the fabric torn yet glittering still.
She looked like the sea come to life. Fierce. Fragile. Unbreakable.
He lifted a hand, brushing a damp curl from her cheek. The strands slipped through his fingers like silk, and he smiled faintly. Too bad more of it hadn’t fallen loose from the intricate updo she wore.
“You save me,” he whispered, voice rough with wonder.
She paused mid-note and met his eyes, her own brimming with unshed tears. She smiled, that beautiful shy lilt to her lips that made him want to kiss her.
“You saved me first,” she countered.
He gave a lopsided grin. “Well, I was trying to be a brave protector. Pretty sure I just ended up as ballast.”
She laughed softly, smoothing his hair back from his forehead.
“How did you heal me?” he asked after a moment.
She shrugged, a touch of weariness behind it. “You weren’t truly dead. I can heal wounds but not bring someone back.” He could hear the ache in her voice, knew how she had longed to save her father. Her hand found his again, squeezing gently. “But you weren’t gone.”
He tightened his fingers around hers. “I couldn’t leave you alone.” He shifted slightly, glancing past her. “What happened?”
“I threw your sword at Ewan.”
