Page 24

The kraken was larger than the merchant ship. Larger than most homes.

The giant beastie clung to the bottom of the ship like it was trying to devour it. Sharp ivory teeth hovered right in the center of its tentacles, like it was ready to pierce the bottom of the ship. The kraken hummed again.

Mer palmed her dagger, her fingers aching because of the cold. Killing the creature wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t easy. The kraken clicked, and the translucent fringe around its head began to flutter. It reminded her of the squid of Thalassa. Was it trying to communicate?

Try singing.

It couldn’t hurt.

She licked her lips and began to hum. Mer didn’t know the language of this creature, but it couldn’t be that different from the squid and octopi of the south. They were highly intelligent creatures. Surely it would understand she was trying to communicate.

Unless it thinks you are prey.

Every inhale she took burned, but she kept singing. The dark eye of the kraken latched onto her, and Mer could tell she had its attention. Its tentacles began to writhe angrily, thrashing harder.

That wasn’t the right tone.

Mer grimaced, treading water and adjusting her tune, trying to match the kraken’s hums and vibrations. Her heart raced as its tentacles slowed their jerky movements. It was listening to her song.

That’s it. Be calm.

Her stomach dropped when the kraken started to release the ship and drifted away. It was too good to be true. It didn’t swim away or sink into the glittering emerald water down to the dark trench below that gaped like a giant mouth. Instead, it faced her,looming so large, it was almost like a mountain. She held steady as it gracefully glided toward her.

Mer held her hand out, her fingers screaming at how tightly she gripped the dagger. The beast paused, just listening as she continued to sing. A thread of panic tightened around her chest as one massive tentacle reached toward her.

Don’t run.

Ever so gently, it explored her hand and the blade, the tentacle wrapped around her forearm. It would be so easy for the beastie to kill her, and yet... the kraken was infinitely gentle in its exploration. Her breath caught as the kraken hummed and light illuminated the circular markings on its body and the fringe outlining the crown of its head.

She’d never seen something so beautiful.

A faint trill reached her ears.

The beast released her and drifted away.

Mer watched it move toward the trench. She squinted as a creature darted into the dark. Mer swam a few paces forward, but it was gone. The kraken gave one more vibrating hum before stuffing itself into the trench and disappearing as if it had not been there at all.

She stared after the beast until her feet touched the sea floor.

Startled, she glanced toward the surface and back to the trench.

Mer had just interacted with a myth. A living legend.

Her heart raced with fear and a bit of excitement.

Shivers started to rock her body, and each movement seemed a little bit slower than the next.

Pushing off the rocky bottom, Mer swam for the surface, the cold water sucking all her energy. It was like swimming through syrup, each movement stiff and difficult. Mer gritted her teeth as her head swam. This was how Sirenidae died in the north.

They froze to death.

With all her remaining strength, Mer struggled back to the ship. She popped up beside the ship, shivering as her gills purged the water and sealed shut. Her first breath felt like inhaled needles, sharp and painful.

Shouts from above cut through the air, and soon a rope was dropped down. Mer slipped her arms through the loop and hung as the crew pulled her up and over the railing.

Captain Velicu glared at Mer as she shivered on the deck. “That was one of the most foolish things I have seen in my life,” the captain chastised, tossing her long coat around Mer’s hunched shoulders. “But we owe you our lives.”

“It was nothing,” Mer chattered, feeling like her eyelids were too heavy.