Page 14 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea
They broke the surface just inside the harbor rocks. The waves immediately ripped Sorcha from her sister. She cried out, her voice lost in the thunder that rolled overhead.
Lighting cut across the sky.
The fancy ship she’d seen the other day rocked in the middle of the harbor, its forward mast nothing but splinters. Humans clung to whatever piece of the ship they could, but with each wave, more of them were swept away.
Sorcha covered her ears — not just to protect from the siren call of the human voices but from the deafening roar of the wind and waves. She stared in horror. All around the ship, humans cried out in fear. She could see dolphins darting in and out, nudging people onto pieces of flotsam.
Ciara was in there somewhere, helping, she was sure. As were Father and the Watchers. They would do whatever it took to save the lives of those who belonged on the land.
Everything within her told her to leave, to go back to the safety of the grotto; that she couldn’t help here.
That if she were useless doing the one thing she’d been trained to do, she’d be even worse here.
But something held her in place, glued to the surface, even as the waves flung her about. She gave up trying to cover her ears, needing her arms to stay upright. The human siren calls were drowned out by the winds and waves anyway. Surely the Watchers didn’t work from the surface. How could they see anything?
She rode a wave to its crest, then plummeted to the trough of the next. A board spun past, scraping her side. In the darkness, she could see nothing, blinded by the wind and rain.
A voice reached her above the tumult of the storm. She cast about, searching for it.
There, floating on a piece of the ship, clung a human and a smaller animal. The waves drove him toward her, but he seemed to be pointing in the direction he had come. She lost sight of him as the waves crashed over them both. When she next saw him, he was much closer, but angling away from her. With a gasp, she recognized him as the shorter of the two men she had watched singing. The small creature barked, a sharp sound that cut through the booming cacophony.
A sleek gray body showed above the water for a second as a dolphin drove him toward the shore. Even knowing he would be okay, the man continued to point back to the center of the harbor.
Sorcha let the next wave pull her high, searching for what the man was so concerned about.
Lightning flashed, blinding her, but not before she spotted a human struggling to hold onto a small board, a piece of white fabric floating near him. She broke free of the hold the storm had on her and dove beneath the waves, deep enough to be able to see again.
None of the Watchers were nearby. She could just make out a cluster of vague shapes in the distance. Too far to be of help.
She swallowed hard, swimming toward the spot she had last seen the human.
But what good would that do? She had no starfish to stop him from entrapping her in his siren voice. No dolphin to send to his aid. No training for how to help a human without cursing herself.
As she drew near, she rose to the surface. He was gone. The board and white fabric were there, but the human was gone.
She dove again, powering through the tempestuous waters to reach the spot. She cast about, searching for any sign of the man until she spotted him below her. He wasn’t struggling anymore. He drifted with the water, limp, as the ocean drew him to the floor.
Sorcha hesitated for only a moment. Rescuing a human might mean she would be bound to him for life. But that didn’t mean she could let him die.
Chapter four
DarknessencompassedArickthemoment his feet left the ship, the rope in his hand his only connection to safety. The wind tugged at him, holding him aloft. Rain whipped from all directions, and he tucked his chin down to get a breath before plunging into the ocean.
The cold enveloped him. The water flung him around. With his lungs screaming for air, he fought for where he believed the surface was.
He broke free of the water as a piercing bark sounded to his left.
“Cookie!” he shouted, his mouth filling with water as a wave sloshed over him. He struck out toward the sound of Cookie’s barking. The rope in his hand burned, but he refused to let go and wrapped it around his arm. If there was any chance of getting Thomas back to the ship, he needed to hold fast to the line.
He rode a wave to the top and caught a glimpse of Thomas’s white face on the crest of the next. Arick shouted again, then set out with renewed energy to reach his cousin. Cookie had stopped barking, but stayed close to Thomas.
Lightning ripped around him as he angled toward Thomas, the rope tight around his arm. Every wave sought to pull them farther apart. Thomas swam toward Arick, but even with one arm flung over Cookie’s back, he faltered.
Arick was only a few strokes away when Thomas sank beneath the waves. For a moment, his white hand clung to Cookie’s collar, then that too vanished.
With a sob for breath, Arick dove in search of Thomas. His hand brushed something. The rope jerked him back. His eyes straining, Arick spotted his cousin drifting just out of reach. To reach him, he’d have to let go of the rope. But without the rope, they’d never make it back to the ship. Thomas looked up, his gray-flecked eyes filled with fear — and trust. Arick let go of the rope that was holding him back and kicked with everything he had.
He grasped Thomas’s shirt and hauled him up.
