Breathless (26 page)

The edge of the rock was covered in thick moss, like a slippery shag carpet. I leaned over the ledge and lowered my elbow to the water a foot below. Unable to reach, I shimmied closer to the edge, but with my vision stil wavering, I overcompensated. The balance of my weight shifted against the slick surface and I slid off the ledge, headfirst into the water.

The ocean water felt like an attack of bumblebees on my head, stomach, ankle, and the hundreds of other cuts and scrapes along my body. I screamed, flooding my mouth with saltwater. I kicked forward and broke the surface, coughing and spitting. My eyes burned, blurring my vision.

Blindly, I held my arms in front of me to prevent any more head and rock col isions, feeling along the wal for an exit.

But there was a problem.

The lip of the rock I’d been perched on was a foot overhead at an angle too steep to climb. I held on with my hands, my legs pin-wheeling for traction but only managing to look like a cartoon character running in place.

“Shit!” My scream bounced off the cave wal s, echoing around me.

So where was Sir’s voice
now
? Was our connection so severed that even the imaginary version of him inside my head abandoned me? Or was it something else?

Maybe, instead of Sir trying to push me away al these years—I’d succeeded in shutting him out?

Despite the frigid water I shivered in, a warmth spread through me. Earlier, when he’d chal enged me to a stare down, I hadn’t looked away. And I hadn’t cried when he’d sent me for my bag.

Bastin had been right in having me wrestle that al igator. I was no longer afraid.

I almost laughed out loud. A decorated war veteran had spent the last fifteen years trying to destroy me . . . and had failed. He was nothing more but an angry, pathetic old man. I’d held shut the snapping jaws of a gator who’d wanted to eat me. Sir had nothing on that gator. And he had nothing on me anymore. The thought brought a smile to my lips, despite my current situation. Edith Smal could not be so easily crushed.

There was a tiny splash behind me, but before I could turn around, a fist wound into what was left of hair and yanked me underwater. Edith Smal may not be easily crushed—but she could be drowned. The scream I’d started became nothing but a stream of bubbles until I was released and resurfaced with a gasp.

The purple-haired mermaid was inches from my face. She hissed. “What do you think you’re doing?” Rather than let me answer, she pul ed me back underwater. Luckily, my scalp was too numb to feel the handfuls of hair being yanked about.

My instinct was to fight, which I did, briefly. But I was too dizzy to keep it up for long. Too tired. Too numb. On land, I couldn’t fight someone with the strength of a shark, let alone in the water. Battling the gator had been more than using brute strength. Bastin had also shown me how to use my brain by clamping its jaw shut—using its weakness against it. Time for brains, not brawn. Signaling defeat, I went limp in her hands and was rewarded with a yank to the surface.

“I know what you were trying to do,” she growled. Several large blue scales were stuck between her teeth. “But it won’t work. He’s too far away.

The only things you’l successful y cal are the sharks.” She released her grip from my head and shoved me hard against the side wal . “And they can have you.” She paused, tilting her head. “On second thought . . .”

A crude ivory colored knife appeared from the water. It looked to have been made carved from a bone of some sort.

“You might actual y have a good idea. Only, if Bastin is going to smel you, we’re going to need more blood. Possibly al of it.”

She was beside me in a heartbeat, a clammy hand pressed against my throat. “If you don’t struggle, this wil be fast.” Her lips twisted into a sneer. “But if you fight me, I can promise the pain that wil fol ow wil have you begging for death.”

What did I do? What
could
I do? Struggling was pointless. I was trapped and, considering my beaten state, in no condition to fight back.

The blade bit into my neck, pul ing a whimper from my throat. Despite the cool water, I could feel the first trickles of warm blood as it trailed down my neck.

“I hope you do attract a shark,” the mermaid said. “That would be one less filthy human body stinking up our ocean.”

The knife was jagged, tearing as it cut. It was funny. Before, I’d been so ready to embrace death. Eager to move on from this world of pain.

Desperate to see my brother again . . . to find out if he forgave me.

But now, with the end only moments away, I couldn’t help but feel the loss of it al . There were things I’d never get to do—places I’d never get to travel.

“Goodbye, human,” she whispered. She forced the knife deeper, and despite my best effort, I screamed. It hurt too badly not to. Like a thousand needles digging into my skin at once.

I heard a splash fol owed by a sharp intake of breath. “Desmar, stop!” a voice ordered—a voice I never thought I’d hear again. My lip trembled; it was too much to hope for. I wanted to look but instead squeezed my eyes shut, too afraid that the voice I imagined had been a hal ucination from my head injury.

The knife stopped biting into my flesh and I said a silent prayer of thanks.

“Let her go, Desmar, and I might not prolong your death.”

Oh dear, God,
I prayed.
Let him be real.
Slowly, I opened my eyes.

Bastin’s head bobbed several feet away. In the dark room, I could stil read the fear in his tightly pressed mouth.

Even with blood trickling down my neck, I breathed a sigh of relief. If I had to die, at least I got to see him one last time.

Desmar smirked. “Not a chance, Bastin. You may be a prince, but
I
hold the girl. That means
I
give the orders.”

The green-haired merman popped out of the water next to me and thrust his arm around me possessively. “We’ve been waiting for you, Bastin. I hope you’re prepared to trade.”

Bastin’s jaw flexed. “You want the nicite, then?”

The merman snorted. “Of course, the nicite! Hand it over or your human dies.”

Bastin looked at me. “If I give you the stone, she’l die anyway. You plan to flood the land, do you not?”

Desmar laughed. “Absolutely. But you’re a merman, Bastin. Just give her your blood and keep her with you.”

His blood! So, that’s how they kept humans alive underwater. My mind wandered to the Japanese folktale. How much more of the tale was true?

Bastin’s body shook in angry waves that formed ripples the water and licked the blood from my neck. “You know that the humans you keep are in misery, Granton. It’s torture.”

The merman shrugged. “It’s your human. It matters little to me the method of her death. Just know that if you don’t give us the stone, we’l choose for you.”

As if excited by the idea, Desmar dug the knife deeper into my neck, renewing the stream of blood that had nearly trickled out.

I whimpered as white spots flashed in front of my eyes.

“No!” Bastin started to swim for me but stopped when Granton pushed me behind him.

“Do we have a deal?” Granton asked.

Bastin glared at him, the tendons in his jaw flexing as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I wil give you the stone. But I wil need time. I have hidden it on land.”

“Land?” Desmar cried, dropping the knife from my throat. “How can you be so careless?”

I brought my hands to my neck, surprised at how quickly the blood seeped through my fingers.

“Not careless,” Bastin replied. “You hate the land. So I knew it was safe.”

“Go then.” Granton grabbed my bicep hard enough to bruise and yanked me to his side. “We’l watch your pet for you until you get back.”

He shook his head. “I won’t go without Edith.”

Granton sneered. “Nice try, but the girl stays with us.”

“I cannot retrieve the stone without Edith.” Bastin looked at me for a long time without saying anything. Something flashed across his eyes.

Regret? But it was gone as quickly as it came. “The stone is in her house.”

The mers looked at me, but I could only blink. In my house? Bastin had to be lying. Tel ing them the stone was in my house so they’d let me go.

After al , Bastin had only been inside my room long enough to put me in bed. The only way the stone would be at my house is if I had . . .
oh, God
.

I wasn’t sure if it was my revelation or the amount of blood I’d lost, but tremors shook my body. Bastin had told me he’d given me a gift—but he hadn’t. He’d been looking for a hiding place.

He’d lied.

A cold numbness settled across my chest and grew outward. I wasn’t sure if it was from blood loss or the realization that Bastin hadn’t been honest with me. And if he’d lied about the stone, what other things had he lied about?

My mind flooded with more questions, none of which I could deal with at the moment. The only thing that mattered was the fact that the nicite—the key to destroying the world as I knew it—was tied around my ankle between my aunt’s pearls.

“Edith . . .” Bastin reached a hand for me but Granton pushed me further away, which was almost a good thing because I didn’t know how I would react to Bastin’s touch.

“You lied,” I whispered.

His eyes locked on mine, pleading. “Yes. But things changed. I never lied about the way I felt about you.”

Desmar snorted. “You trusted the
human
with the nicite?”

“No,” I answered. “He didn’t trust me at al .” Hot tears fel from my cheeks where they were swal owed by the ocean. “How can I believe you, Bastin? Al those times that you visited me . . . how do I know you weren’t just checking on your precious stone?”

“At first, I was. But things changed, Edith. You have to believe me.” He brought a fist against the water with enough force that Granton was pelted with droplets from the splash.

Desmar’s high-pitched laugh rattled the inside of my head. “If you were smart, human, you wouldn’t believe a word he says.” She turned away from me and looked at Bastin. “It’s good to know that you haven’t gone as soft as the rumors say, Bastin. The tribes wil be happy to know the only reason you were fooling around with the human was to suit your own purposes. I see you inherited your father’s ruthlessness. Maybe we won’t have to kil your tribe, after al .”

“Edith.” Bastin’s voice echoed around the cave, surrounding me from every angle.

Had
everything
been a lie? Every word? Every touch? My head fel against my chest and, if it weren’t for Granton’s grip on my arm, I would have sunk under the weight of my grief.

“Please. I’m sorry for betraying you. But I need you to come with me so I can get the stone.”

Bastin’s pleading pul ed at my heart enough that I looked at him. Even though his eyes were black, I was able to read the desperation written on them.

Granton grunted and tightened his grip on my arm.

“Or,” Bastin said quickly, “Edith can go alone. You can keep me as your prisoner until she returns.”

“Agreed.” Granton released his hold on me.

I sank for a moment before treading my way back to the surface. But I wouldn’t be able to float forever. Even now, my muscles screamed for me to stop.

Bastin swam to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I wanted so badly to relax my head in the curve of his shoulder and let him carry me into the waves. But this was not the Bastin who said he loved me. This was a stranger, someone who’d used me from day one.

As if reading my thoughts, he spun me around, forcing me to look at him. “Edith, you have to believe me when I say that I love you. I admit, my initial interest in you was selfish. I
was
only looking for a place to keep my stone safe. I didn’t plan on fal ing in love—but it happened. You captured me, Edith. I would die before hurting you.”

I bit down on my lip, forcing myself to look away from his eyes before they sucked me in. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. I had no way of knowing if he real y meant what he said, or if he was just trying to get his stone back.

And I wasn’t about to give it to him.

“The stone isn’t at my house,” I told him.

Desmar hissed and Granton went rigid in the water. “What is this, Human?” he growled.

“Are you deaf?” It took most of my strength, but I managed to tilt my chin and glare at them. My heart was broken and my body was torn and bleeding. Desmar’s last cut went deep and the blood stil flowed. Every second I grew colder. If I wasn’t going to leave this cave alive—what power did they hold? “I
said,
the nicite isn’t at my house.”

“Stupid, Bastin!” Desmar shrieked, pounding her fists against the water. “I can’t believe you trusted a human with something as precious as nicite. I’l kil her now just for the pleasure of hearing her screams.”

Bastin moved in front of me, his arms spread. Even in my battered state, as his back pressed against me, my body reacted to his nearness—wanting to pul him closer. Disgusted with myself, I tried to shove him away. “I have the nicite. It’s here with me.”

The mers froze and the cave went quiet. The only sound was from the droplets of water fal ing from the ceiling.

Slowly, Bastin turned to face me. “Please tel me you’re not serious.”

“Yes.”

Granton and Desmar said nothing, their chests stil , as if they were afraid to breathe.

Bastin’s voice held an edge of fear. “No, Edith. Tel me you have it in your pocket. Tel me it’s not touching your skin.” He gripped my shoulders, almost painful y, and gave me a slight shake. “
Tell me!”

He was scaring me. I didn’t understand what difference it made where I kept the stone and why it should make him so upset. Afraid to answer him, I reached underwater and, with the last bit of energy I could gather, snapped the cord from my ankle. I brought my hand out of the water and slid the green stone off the twine, ignoring the pearls as they fel and sank into the dark water. My gut twisted into a knot of regret as I lost the remaining link to my Aunt Margie. But I had more important things to deal with.