Authors: Amy Bearce
Saying it out loud made her feel even braver. It was just as well. They’d need every last drop of courage they could find.
nside the entrance to the cave, the moonglow of Tristan’s skin returned, allowing them to examine the space without having to enter far. They wanted to be able to escape immediately if the terrifying presence returned. Their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, but the cave was deep, swirling with skinny, tall grasses and glowing mushroom-like things. Blinking eyes gleamed from pockets along one wall, and the two of them avoided those areas. They could see the back of the cave, half-shrouded in darkness, with Tristan’s skin at its brightest. She wanted to run her fingers along his arm, to see what would happen to the light, but she resisted. If ever there wasn’t a time for such a thing, it was now.
Phoebe looked hard into the darkness of the cave, trying to concentrate on their goal. She noticed a strange shape in the far corner.
“Uh, Tristan, what’s that lump over there?” she asked, voice barely audible.
It didn’t take getting much closer before they realized the lump was a merman. Or what was left of him. Phoebe couldn’t quite stifle a cry at the sad sight of the skeletal husk floating in the water, as if he had been starved for many weeks before arriving here. The skull was completely bone, not a tuft of hair or skin left. However, tattoos of starfish linked with swirling lines were still visible on the shriveled skin of the arms and chest. This skeleton wasn’t as bone-bare as the one that had washed up on the shore, but the similarity of the destruction was too close to be missed.
“I know that tattoo pattern. That’s Liam’s father, Aedan, who’s been missing since the last full moon.” Tristan’s voice quaked.
“Did he look… so shriveled when you last saw him?” Phoebe whispered.
Tristan’s eyes were huge, his hands shaking. “No. No, he didn’t.”
Phoebe swam over to the back of the body and gasped. “Look at this! He has the same marks! The handprint that looks like a scorch mark, the holes in the skull. That must mean―”
“The wraiths or the shadowed creature stole his life energy. Both were in here. That must be what’s been taking our people,” Tristan muttered. “All those missing merfolk! This thing must be stopped!”
“Tristan, if this thing destroyed the ancient merfolk, I think stopping him might be beyond you and me,” she said, eyes still straining toward the cave opening, into the distance where the red light had gone.
“It sucked him dry. The one you found at the coast, too. We have to do something.”
“Like what?” she asked, as gently as she could.
“I have no idea, not if my people insist on playing the fools.” He smacked his hand against the side of the cave. His light faltered, and her heart skipped a beat. Complete darkness in this cave would be more than she could bear. She grabbed him by the shoulders.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Now, come on.”
She pulled him to the cave entrance, hurrying. If she had been above water, her skin would be clammy with terror and sweat, but here, all that betrayed her was a galloping heart.
They almost made it.
A water wraith blocked the opening and smiled a slow, razor-sharp smile. Phoebe jerked to a stop so quickly that Tristan slammed into her back, sending them both spinning toward the wraith.
Dark green and blue blurs zoomed by as Phoebe careened out of control. She tried to kick her legs and stop her movement but instead kicked the wraith, sending it flying backward just far enough for her to turn and swim away toward the city.
“Phoebe! Go!” Tristan yelled, but she couldn’t catch a breath to reply.
Something grabbed Phoebe’s waist, squeezing so hard that her back arched, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Claws raked along her sides. All she could see was her own hair, red as blood, obscuring her vision until the creature growled and the pressure suddenly released. Tristan must have done something to it. Thank goodness she wasn’t alone. But panic grabbed her by the throat when a hoarse shout ricocheted around her. She knew the shout came from Tristan, sensed it like a zap of lighting along her skin. The water wraith was hurting him.
Rage shouldered aside panic, and she swung her head around, trying to get a good look at the snake-like creature so she could scratch out its eyes.
“
Stop
,” she yelled, not even thinking about what she was doing. She just knew that monster had to stop hurting Tristan. Her arms shot out, hands spread wide.
Phoebe locked gazes with the water wraith. It didn’t have Tristan in its hands, but he was nearby and shouting at her to flee. She couldn’t leave him. She had to fight through her fear.
Concentrate, Phoebe!
The sound of waves filled her ears, as it had once before when she first believed she could have power.
“Go. Away,” Phoebe told it grimly. If she could draw merfolk to her on accident, she should be able to drive the water wraith away on purpose.
The wraith’s red eyes blinked, as if dazed. It paused, just for a second, as if it had forgotten what it was supposed to be doing.
Yes!
For a moment, victory filled her, but then the creature shook its head and reached toward her face, slowly, like a sleepwalker. Phoebe swam back, and terror burst through her brief moment of certainty. She failed, but she didn’t want to die, not yet.
The claws grazed her cheek, and a bright blue flash shot through the water. The wraith screeched, a horrendous sound Phoebe hoped to never hear again. The creature darted off into the darkness of the cave, its black, pointed tail whipping back and forth.
Phoebe sunk to the sea floor, gasping, bubbles billowing up from her mouth. Tristan reached her and ran his hands along her arms. They had to go before the other wraith or the dark shadow returned, but she couldn’t quite move yet.
“Did it bite you? Are you hurt?” he kept asking, eyes seeking some sign of a wound while blood floated in the water from his own neck.
She shook her head. “No, I’m not hurt, but you are. What did it do to you?”
He leaned his head sideways to show the deep puncture wounds along the curve of his neck. “I think it wanted to rip my head off,” he snarled.
Phoebe touched the skin near the wound. It felt warm to the touch. Unusually warm. He flinched.
They swam quickly up and into the city, but it was obvious Tristan needed to rest. He’d never make it home at this rate. Looking down, Phoebe recognized the ancient temple. Without consulting Tristan, she dragged him down and into its sheltering arms. She didn’t want to return to the place of her interrogation, but if any place here could be safe for him, it would surely be their ancient temple.
She carried Tristan to the floor and leaned him against one of the columns. He could no longer sit up by himself. She held him tightly while he took in great gulps of water, struggling for breath.
Tristan looked rather green now, the skin around his wound growing grey.
“It hurts still?” she asked, chewing her bottom lip. “Could it be poisoned?”
“Feels that way,” he wheezed and turned paler than the underbelly of a fish.
“How did you send the blue light?” Phoebe asked, urgency making her voice sharp. “It saved us from the wraith. Maybe it would cleanse you, too! Use your magic to bring the light again!”
His voice was barely audible. “But I didn’t do it. The light came from you.”
Phoebe stared at him with wild eyes. “That’s not possible! What do you mean?”
But his eyes drifted shut, and he passed out.
“Tristan! Wake up!” she shouted, shaking his shoulders, but he didn’t respond.
No, not him!
She couldn’t lose Tristan.
What could she do? If she
had
created the blue light, she had no idea how. She was alone at the bottom of the sea, in an ancient merfolk temple, desperate to save the person she cared for more than anyone other than her sister. If he felt compelled to be with her, it certainly was no less than she felt toward him. She knew that wasn’t magic. It was just Tristan. It had always been Tristan.
She cradled him in her arms, bending over him, searching for any signs of waking. The barest flickering glimmer remained along his skin. She knew intuitively that if the light went out, he would be lost to her. More blood seeped into the water. They were running out of time.
He couldn’t fade away. That was all there was to it.
She wracked her mind, thinking of what she could do, and all at once, it came to her. It was a long shot but better than sitting here while Tristan died in her arms.
Gathering her strength and thankful for the buoyancy of the sea, Phoebe carried Tristan to the dais she had floated above before in the center of the temple. As she curled up on the raised platform with him, she tried to remember the ancient words the elders had spoken, but her mind was empty. She had no words and certainly none in the merfolk language. But she had emotions, and she let them pour out. If they were speech, they’d say something like:
Ocean, whatever you are who creates this magic, whoever is listening, hear me now. Save this merman. Take my energy, take my life, if you must, but, please, give me this one gift.
She thought about how Sierra described reaching the magic of the earth and tried to envision the magic of the sea. The light had come from her. She chose to believe it. What did it mean? She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and imagined a shimmering deep light encircling them, filling Tristan, covering them both with its web of power. The familiar sound of the surf filled her mind, wiping away her fear.
A steady glow beat at her eyes and when she opened them, she was encased in a pale column of light, as she had been before, but this time, it was blue. The graceful sapphire glow pressed upon them both with the same easy warmth the silver offered before. Without even the sacred words, the ancient spot bathed them both in healing, magical light.
This time, truth was not pulled from her. Instead, she sensed something deep within, some kind of life energy, being pulled out and sent to Tristan, the power twisting and spinning freely, as if someone were pulling a long rope from a basket, or unraveling a knitted blanket. Further and further out it spun, until she feared she might pass out. Tristan’s skin grew brighter and brighter until all at once, a bright blue flash rippled through the water again.
Razor sharp pain sliced through her body, and she shrieked in agony. Shocked, she grabbed frantically at her legs, which seemed to be almost
melting
into each other. Her pants ripped at the seams, floating away on the currents. Her feet were growing longer, extending, her toes unfurling long like lilies, waving slightly in the water, then spreading wider and joining into a single unit, until all that was left of her feet was a hint of foot bone beneath a tail fin as elegant as any merfolk’s. Scales climbed up her body like tiny cat paws pacing along her skin until they stopped above her chest, leaving her shoulders bare. The worn tank top gave way under the pressure, leaving her dressed in shiny deep blue scales that began at her underarms and overlapped all the way down her legs, which were now, undeniably… a tail fin. Was this what Nell’s words to Phoebe had meant?