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Claira

M y mind awoke with a violent force from the vivid nightmare that had just played out before it.

Darkness. Trapped in the Undersea. The chilling, white eyes of a sea witch.

Only, it wasn’t merely a nightmare. It was real. All of it.

Had I… sobbed myself to sleep, clinging to the star grass the sea wizard had brought me?

“Princess,” a voice said, gruff and male, and an icy awareness slid through me.

The nightmare hadn’t ended.

Someone loomed over me—their chest heaving, their words a hushed, unintelligible murmur—and I shook all the more. Whoever it was, I didn’t recognize them.

My hands flew to my face, and I let out a sharp yelp as calloused hands grabbed hold of me.

“No!” I thrashed and fought, attempting to break free, and the body above me shifted, holding me down. Heavy limbs slid on top of me, one after another, and my heart raced as I struggled against my attacker’s unrelenting grip.

“Easy, princess,” he said, the low growl of an animal. “Quiet, now. The queen sent me here to look after you.”

My shell—where was my shell?

Only, it was useless. My hands were trapped.

“Get… off!” I yelled, preparing to headbutt him, hoping that knocking some of his teeth out would stun him enough that I could get an arm free. But just as I braced for my attack, he jerked back, howling in pain before I had even struck him.

The rough hands grasping my arms released me momentarily as my attacker swatted at something behind his back.

Then my eyes caught something—a blur of motion. It was an eel, writhing in fury, lashing out at the cecaelia on top of me like an angry whip.

Jaws wide, it struck my attacker’s flank with the force of a ship’s bow, and the man let out a guttural roar, his back curving like the end of a tentacle. But the eel’s attack didn’t stop there. No, it was relentless. I could only witness in horror as those needle-like jaws struck again and again.

Finally, the man I assumed to be one of the queen’s pawns fell backward, and the weight of his tentacles slid from me.

But before I could celebrate, a dark cloud swelled up, blurring my vision. Magic filled the chamber, and a figure materialized from within the billowing darkness, his face a pale mask of exhaustion and rage.

My throat choked— the sea wizard.

His eerily calm voice cut through the chaos of the room. “Excuse my intrusion,” he said, and I was sure the scathing glare before me held the power to freeze the blood in the pawn’s veins had he turned around to see it. My attacker’s screams died down to whimpers when the wizard wrapped around him from behind. A long black prong pressed underneath his jaw, into his neck.

It was pathetic how quickly the pawn turned into a shrunken, trembling blob at the mercy of the sea wizard’s trident. His voice rose at least two octaves as he stammered out his purpose. “H-her Majesty sent me here to inquire about a meal for—for the princess!”

Streams of magic rose from the sea wizard’s arms, swirling like smoke, and the pawn let out an agonized scream. “Well, princess?” the sea wizard asked with a menacing grin. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, my throat too constricted to possibly speak.

“I suspected as much.” A deafening crack of magic shook through the water, and the dark, ominous cloud from earlier returned. Its pitch blackness swallowed up both the pawn and the sea wizard, and they vanished, leaving behind only fleeting remnants of fading magic.

Now that we were alone, the eel circled above me, its smooth skin running across my shoulder with every turn. It took me at least a minute to compose myself enough to whisper out a thank you.

Arms trembling, my heart thundered as I pushed myself upright. If the eel hadn’t appeared, I didn’t know what could have happened to me. “You gave me the warning back at the ruins, didn’t you?”

Its voice reached my mind with a rasped “Yes.”

So, it really was affiliated with the sea wizard—although I’d thought they’d been one and the same. A pet, perhaps?

The eel brushed past again, rubbing up against me in a way that reminded me of Sprout bunting my hand.

Just when I thought my heart rate was calming, another explosion of smoke appeared before us, and out of it emerged the sea wizard. Alone.

“I offer my apologies.” He lowered his head gracefully as the smoke cleared. “I didn’t expect the queen to send someone to you so soon, but I swear none shall disturb you again,” he said with a hint of formality I was sure I’d never get used to. “Rest easy, princess.”

Rest easy? I might have found his bold statement amusing if I wasn’t so shaken. How could anyone relax after that?

He stood there as if waiting for me to confirm that I would happily sink down into the seagrass and fall back asleep. Like hell that would happen.

I’d only been trapped in the Undersea for a short while, but the constant danger was already wearing on me. I was on the verge of telling him just that when the eel knocked against my shoulder, as if to remind me of its presence.

“Ah, this is Aracos.” A peculiar fondness softened the sea wizard’s voice. “My familiar. I asked him to keep an eye on you. My apologies, princess, if that makes you uncomfortable.”

Did it? Perhaps it should have, but mostly I was just thankful for the eel’s intervention.

I tentatively held out a hand, unsure if an eel would even appreciate getting a pat. “Thank you, Aracos,” I whispered softly, and to my surprise, he nuzzled my hand. I couldn’t help but gulp as I rubbed his head, my eyes fixed on his perilous, needle-tipped teeth. When the eel seemed to have its fill of my affection, I glanced up at the sea wizard. “Your familiar?”

He didn’t let the question linger long. “It’s a bond that goes beyond loyalty and kinship,” he said with a nod. “I share my magic with Aracos, and in return, he lends me his instincts. His keen senses. It’s an arrangement that serves us both well.”

The eel left me, slithering away to wrap around the sea wizard. Although my pulse was still racing, I managed a smile, grateful for his protection.

The sea wizard’s familiar. How interesting.

“I suppose I should thank you, too,” I murmured, my gaze drifting back to meet the powerful man before me. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion. Maybe the pawn had disturbed his sleep, too. “For asking your familiar to watch over me.”

He inclined his head again, his black hair falling over his face as he said, “My pleasure to be of service. We’ll leave you to your rest.”

“Wait, I—” My thoughts scattered as his head lifted, one of his dark eyebrows rising.

“Yes, princess?”

“I, um…” I swallowed hard, not sure why I wasn’t ready for him to leave. “I want to know what happened to the queen’s pawn. What did you do to him?”

The smirk that crept across the sea wizard’s face told me everything I needed to know.

“You do not want to know what happened to that brute,” he said in a cold, detached voice. “Trust me.”

The thought of his ruthlessness made me shudder. Earlier, he’d melted a man for just reaching for me. There was no telling what he’d done this time. “I’ll take your word for it,” I said, deciding it was best to leave it at that.

“Rest easy.” He drew his arms up like he was about to disappear, and my panic reached an unbearable peak.

I didn’t want to be alone—not here, trapped in this horrible, cold, unfamiliar place.

“Please,” I begged with a desperation that surprised even me. Down here, he’d become like a lifeline that I clutched, unable to let go.

A lifeline? Poseidon, help me. I was pathetic underwater. This wasn’t like me—not at all. “No, n-never mind,” I said, wishing I could take back every moment of weakness and vulnerability I’d displayed since coming to this horrid place, but the sea wizard only drifted closer.

His gaze dropped to my lips with an intensity that left me burning. His face might have been a mask of carefully suppressed emotions, but his eyes spoke volumes, and my heart quickened as he inquired, low and controlled, “Would it ease your mind if I remained close? Right outside your chamber, perhaps?”

A primal instinct clawed its way up my throat, urging me to say yes. My rational thoughts told me it was an unreasonable request to burden him with, but the fear of being left alone was overwhelming.

My voice quivered as I nodded. “Maybe,” I whispered, and a wave of guilt quickly followed. If only I had magic—power like the sea wizard had—maybe then I would be more confident in such an unfamiliar place.

He paused, his gaze steady upon me.

Had he not expected me to take him up on it? Well, the joke was on him because, at this moment, I was focusing on survival.

Eventually, he bowed. “Very well.” His eyes flickered toward Aracos, as though they were exchanging a final thought before their departure. The eel slid against me once more and was the first to shoot off toward the curtain.

When the sea wizard got to the exit, he paused with his hand on the curtain to cast a glance over his shoulder. “May you rest easy, princess, knowing I’ll be right outside your chamber.”

And then he was gone.

I stared at the curtain long after it had gone completely still, my heart pounding erratically. Was he really on the other side?

Sighing deeply, I curled in on myself among the seagrass, staring up at the monochrome ceiling for what felt like hours. Even if he was there, every inch of me was on edge, just waiting for something to erupt from out of nowhere to grab me.

Rest easy —ha . There would be no more rest for me, not anymore.

My tail felt like a leaden burden as I pushed myself to move, dragging and crawling over the jagged rocks toward the curtain. When I finally dared to peek beyond it, my heart leaped into my throat.

There he was, camped out in front of the entryway, immersed in the pages of a scroll. He was guarding my chamber, just as he’d said he would, with a quill poised in his hand and Aracos coiled around his neck like a living, affectionate scarf.

“Seems you don’t trust me to guard you, after all,” he murmured without turning around, interrupting my study of his back.

I froze, caught in the ebb and flow of embarrassment and guilt. “It’s not that,” I rushed to explain. “There’s just too much in my mind right now, and I thought…”

His graceful hand was a distraction, dancing along, etching a series of mysterious glyphs as I spoke, leaving me to wonder what they meant.

“You thought?” he echoed, his hand gliding along.

After swallowing down a gulp, I huffed. “Okay, fine. I didn’t expect you’d actually be out here. I thought you were trying to appease me as if I were a child, but here you are,” I muttered. “What are you working on?”

“You think so little of me, princess,” the sea wizard said dryly. He canted his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on the scroll. “Unfortunately, a puppet’s work is never complete.”

Yeah—that told me nothing.

But before I could press him for more, he rolled up the scroll and tapped the end of Aracos’s tail. “Bring me the next. The one on my desk.”

The eel snapped the scroll between his jaws, then vanished, fading into a mini puff of smoke.

“Whoa—” That scroll must have had at least a hundred tiny punctures in it now from the eel’s teeth.

The sea wizard tilted back to look at me, then closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t worry, princess. Magic scrolls are tougher than you think.” His fingers absently clenched and unclenched around his quill, as if he’d endured great discomfort toiling away over the rocks outside my chamber.

A magic scroll. It looked like a normal scroll to me, like something I’d see one of King Eamon’s scribes carrying around.

“You have a desk where you keep magic scrolls underwater?” I asked, unable to help my curiosity. “How official.”

“Indeed.” One of his eyes flickered open, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Since you’re having trouble sleeping, would it interest you to see it?”

* * *

When the teleportation magic faded, I found myself in a chamber overrun with wrapped scrolls and leather-bound tomes. Despite the space’s suffocatingly narrow size, it was meticulously designed, with shelves carved into every available inch.

“Careful,” the sea wizard warned, gracefully lowering his head to navigate the jagged ceiling. “I’m afraid this chamber isn’t as luxurious as yours,” he said with a wry laugh, “but it serves its purpose.”

“Is this your office?” I asked as my gaze wandered aimlessly. The sheer volume of reading material was overwhelming, with scrolls and tomes visible from every conceivable angle.

“I suppose you could say that. I was assigned this chamber when I came under the queen’s service.” Gliding forward, he held me securely against his chest, drawing me toward a secluded desk nestled against the back wall.

What a mess. Barren would have lost his mind if he were here to see it.

The desk held an abundance of scrolls, forming enough haphazard stacks to rival an entire wall of bookshelves. A flat stone sat alongside it, the only vacant surface in the entire chamber, leaving me to wonder if it served as his bed.

The sea wizard released me, gently setting me down in front of the desk so he could search through a stack of scrolls. Interesting. It wasn’t just scrolls—there were also shells littered among the piles. All types and sizes; some even decorated the shelves, shoved in the space between scrolls, or sitting on top of tomes.

“Excuse me a moment,” the sea wizard muttered, leaning over the tallest pile. Even his tentacles joined in as he rifled through it. “Feel free to indulge your curiosity and look around.” His tone was laced with dry sarcasm. “I know how curious you can be.”

I snorted, unable to deny it. “Well, if you’re offering,” I muttered back, using the uneven floor to pull myself over to one of the more interesting-looking shelves. But as soon as I perused the first row of tomes, my eyes began to glaze.

There were so many glyphs etched into leather and scrawled over scrolls, none of which I could make any sense out of.

“This is quite the library you have,” I said, selecting a thick tome to examine. “Do you let others come in and use it?”

“Never.” The sea wizard’s voice startled me, and I whipped around to find him back at my side, a new scroll in hand. “I don’t typically entertain guests,” he said stiffly.

“Wonder why that is,” I mumbled, scanning over his lithe, muscular form. He was certainly not unattractive, with his porcelain complexion and toned physique…

Oh, right. He also had the power to melt people, which was terrifying. That alone would be a solid deterrent for most.

The sea wizard shot me a withering look before unrolling the scroll he held. His eyes raced across its contents at such a rapid pace I wondered if he was merely pretending to read it. I leaned over, sliding the tome I’d selected back on the shelf while simultaneously trying to catch a covert glimpse of the sea wizard’s scroll.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” he asked abruptly.

“N-nothing in particular.”

“Hm.” He arched an eyebrow, his penetrating gaze lingering on my face for a moment longer than necessary. A faint hum escaped his lips as he carefully rolled up the scroll. “I can’t help but wonder what’s occupying your thoughts. You’ve been away for quite some time.”

I bit my lip, shifting uncomfortably under his white-eyed gaze. “Yeah, I guess I have. But I don’t remember ever being with the cecaelia.” Shrugging, I averted my focus to a delicate seashell sitting on the shelf beside me. It looked small and defenseless, shoved in a corner, waiting around to be crushed by the slightest touch. “Nothing down here seems familiar to me, and I barely even remember my mother.”

“No, not that,” he said swiftly. “From your lovers. You’ve been away from them for quite some time now.”

My lovers? Heat blazed across my face at the mention of them. I ducked my head, trying to hide my presumably pink cheeks, but the sea wizard drew nearer, as if the scroll he held had vanished from his mind entirely.

“I’m curious.” His voice seemed to slice through the water like the sharp tines of a trident. “What would you say to them if they were here with you now?”

My pulse rocketed. “What would I say to them?” I repeated, trying to keep my voice steady.

The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing teeth as white as his eyes. “Would you tell them the truth about who you are? The secrets you have hidden underneath your tail?” He spoke those terrible words like they were a seduction. “Do you wish they were here with you now instead of me?”

Of course, I wished they were here with me. My soul was broken, shattered by their absence, like a part of me had been forcefully ripped away and left behind with them.

But the thought of telling them that I was never really a mermaid—that I was actually a cecaelia—was enough to send me spiraling.

“No, I—” How could I tell them? Was I even ready to tell them? I needed time to think, to figure out the right words to say. Because if I didn’t think this through, and I messed it all up… Sure, I was in danger down here, but I knew with certainty I wouldn’t be able to survive their rejection.

“You keep trembling, little mouse.” The sea wizard’s hand rested on the side of my shoulder, and despite my better judgment, I leaned into it, hungry for whatever comfort I could get.

“I need time to figure out how to tell them.”

“Really?” The surprise on his face seemed genuine. “They need not know that you’re a sea witch—that’s a secret safe for no one. But will you deny them the truth of your origin?”

Shame flushed my skin. “I’m not sure I can ever tell them.”

His chuckle was soft, almost a purr. “And what will you say, years from now, when your first spawn comes out sporting tentacles?” He tsked, his tone all the more teasing when he added, “I look forward to seeing how your relationships built on such a solid foundation work out.”

I knew he was right—of course I knew it. It was only a matter of time before my secret came out, but that didn’t mean I was ready to face it.

Goodness, I was a coward. But I couldn’t—I couldn’t survive their rejection. I wasn’t ready. Maybe if I were more like the vision of myself that I’d seen in the mirror, then…

No . Anything but that.

Pressing my eyes shut, I forced out, “I don’t know what I want. I just know that I’m not ready.”

“Don’t you think they’ll be pleased to know you’re a princess?”

I shot him a look. “Does it even matter? You said it yourself, the queen won’t let me leave. I’m stuck down here.”

Hands retreating, he turned with a dark chuckle, grabbing the scroll he’d studied earlier from one of his tentacles. His movements were so fluid that I hadn’t realized he’d passed it off.

“Ah, so true.” Returning to his desk, he unraveled the scroll, and the sound of his laugh became increasingly unhinged. “And if I were to help you escape, the crown would surely have my head on a pike.”

“I’m surprised you’re able to joke about that,” I remarked, watching as he furiously wrote something down on the scroll.

The sea wizard grinned over his shoulder at me, and for a moment, he looked younger—almost boyish. “You’d be surprised by what I get away with,” he mused before going back to his work.

I went back to looking through the tomes when an unbridled question bubbled up inside me. “Hey, wizard?”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember that merfry you helped who was stung by a jellyfish? Why were you hanging out near the shore that day?”

He remained hunched over his scroll while answering. “I was curious. The Atlantic mers rarely visit land.”

That was true, I supposed. It felt strange to have a genuine conversation with the sea wizard—one in which he actually responded to my question.

“And my mother, did you know her?” I casually tossed out, testing the waters to see how much he was willing to share.

His quill scratched over the scroll, his shoulders hunched as he muttered, “I was still quite young when she passed.”

Young? How long had it been since my mother had died?

“How old are you?” I asked, giving him a once-over, my eyebrows cocked skeptically. “I thought wizards were supposed to be ancient. That’s kind of their thing, isn’t it?”

He slammed his quill down on his desk, irritation creeping into his voice. “Met many wizards, have you?”

“Well, no. But on land…” I hesitated, realizing I was fumbling my chance to get information out of him. “You know what? Never mind.”

I sighed and returned to perusing the tomes, completely caught off guard when he suddenly supplied, “Twenty-seven.”

“Really?” I asked, eyeing his back. I hadn’t expected to get an answer at all, and now here I was, doing math in my head. “Are you sure that’s not in octopus years? I swear I thought you were in your thirties, at least.”

The sea wizard snapped his head back to glare at me. “If I look old, I assure you it’s the toll of many years of servitude underneath your family.” Anger—or perhaps hurt—simmered in his every word.

My mouth snapped shut as I realized all too late that I’d taken things too far. “Sorry,” I muttered, my gaze averting. “I was just?—”

“I have no need for your apology. You weren’t the one who bound me here.” After a lengthy sigh, he leaned back over his scroll. “Although a day in your servitude seems to be wearing on me more than I anticipated.”

The tension between us was palpable, and I desperately wanted to ease it. “Well, if it’s any consolation,” I began, “I appreciate all of your help, even if you are a bit prickly.”

He shot me a sidelong glance, yet his lips curved ever so slightly. “Prickly, am I?”

“Just a little.” Shrugging, I sighed. “But I suppose I’ve been prickly, too. Sorry that I teased you about your age—I’m a bit of a mess right now.”

His gaze lingered. “You’re doing better than most would in this situation, princess.”

It was an unexpected compliment, and I turned away, distracting myself from the blush it had caused by thumbing through the tomes. Their leather spines were brittle. What kind of leather was it? Stingray? Whale? Some were so old it seemed as if they would crumble to sand if I dared to touch them.

I slid one out and opened it, disappointment filling me when I couldn’t recognize any of the writing inside. After a few more beats of silence, I asked, “What are these books about?”

“Have you not been nosing through them this entire conversation?”

I cringed, feeling caught. “I was looking for one with pictures,” I admitted, and a shiver ran through me when he abandoned his desk to move closer.

His eyes were boring into me now, much like mine had moments ago when I was trying to decipher his age.

“Do you not know how to read?” he asked.

“Why would I know how to read a cecaelian language?” I threw back, my embarrassment peaking.

A laugh, smooth and deep, rumbled through the water. “There is only one script of the ocean. Do you truly not recognize any of these glyphs? What did the Atlantic teach you in all this time?” he pressed, retrieving a book from the shelf and opening it under my face. My head shook, but he kept flipping through the pages like he couldn’t believe it.

“I never learned how to read, okay?” I mumbled, shoving the book out from under my nose. “I’m not even sure my papa knew.”

“What a terrible shame,” the sea wizard lamented, a hand going under his chin. “I suppose I could teach you.”

“Wait, what?” I stammered, taking another glance at the complicated glyphs. “I had three mermen try to teach me how to swim. No luck there. I think I’ll pass.”

“There was a good reason for that,” he muttered, and I wasn’t ready for his hand to brush over the scales on my tail. “Use that excuse if you wish, but your brain hasn’t been defiled by a botched-up spell. You can learn if you want to.”

I scanned over the books, weighing his offer. “If I did learn, can any of these books teach me how to use magic?”

With the way his expression opened, he hadn’t expected that. “You want to learn magic?”

Of course, I did. I’d always wanted to use magic. To be stronger and more powerful than I was. Or at the very least, not useless. And if there was even a sliver of a chance that I could stumble upon information or a magical solution among these tomes that could help Leander or the merfolk, I couldn’t pass it up. Maybe then my time stuck down here wouldn’t be a complete waste. “What’s the point of being a sea witch if I can’t use magic?”

“None of these books will teach you magic,” he said, and there it was—disappointment swiftly raining down upon me. Dammit.

“But knowing the glyphs will help. Some of the most potent spells can only be sealed in the form of a written contract.”

“A contract?” I echoed. For a mysterious sea wizard, he sure had a way of making magic sound boring. “What about that smoke thing that you do? Or when you poof us somewhere? Could I learn that type of magic?”

“Ah, you wish to learn how to poof . Why am I not surprised?” he said, a sigh escaping him. “You could learn those things, yes. But not from a book.”

My eyes widened. “Then how?”

“Perhaps I’ll teach you that as well. But first…” To my surprise, he came closer, his fingers grazing my tail with the lightest of touches. Before I could question him, he returned to his desk, jotting down something that left me all too curious.

“I think I’ve worked through why your presence affects the merfolk’s curse.”

My heart hammered, my hand sweeping over the parts of my tail he’d just touched. “Oh?”

Maybe I’d learn how to help the merfolk sooner rather than later.

“This curse laid over your tentacles,” he began, his quill scratching away, “it’s terribly done. You seem to feel sensations in their replacement, yet you’re unable to make use of it.”

Yes, I was well aware.

He stretched out his hand before continuing. “You see, spells are like the threads of a fisherman’s net, and this one happens to be tangled upon itself, strong yet ineffective. There’s a disconnect between your tail and your natural state, and I suspect that it’s causing interference with the merfolk’s curse each time you come into contact with them.”

“Wait, wait,” I stammered, my voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “So, you’re telling me that my curse is so messed up that it’s actually messing up their curse too?”

It was almost too much to wrap my head around. If that were the case…

The sea wizard set his quill aside and offered a solemn nod. “In theory, yes.”

So, all this time, my curse-breaking abilities had nothing to do with me being special or some key to helping the merfolk? I was just… messed up? That was the only reason?

“I’ve gathered everything I need from you for now,” he said, casually rolling up the scroll he’d been working on as if he hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down. With a flick of his wrist, the scroll disappeared into a cloud of magic and was replaced by a sizable conch shell.

“For you,” he offered, extending it toward me. “A protective spell to ward off unwanted guests from entering your chamber. Place it at the entrance after I return you.”

But I was barely listening.

My newest realization hit over and over, crashing into me like an unrelenting wave. My touch was only significant because of my curse, not because of any inherent qualities that made me unique or valuable.

Finally, my eyes followed up to meet his, and it was then that I remembered the conch in his grip. “You’re giving me this?” I asked, but wait… “At what cost?”

“You know me so well,” he muttered, a sly smirk playing over his lips. “I already have what I need, so consider us even.”

Well, that sure was ominous, but I accepted the shell, regardless. “You’re sure it will keep the pawns out?” I asked, just to be sure.

His smirk broadened, as if he were remembering what he’d done to the pawn from earlier. “Absolutely certain.”

I gazed down at the shell, sliding my fingers into its spiral. It felt surprisingly sturdy. Reliable. “And what about you?” I whispered. “Will it keep you out?”

His hand gently lifted my chin, tilting it upward, and that smirk of his remained. “I said it would keep out unwanted guests,” he murmured, his face dangerously close to mine. “So, princess, I suppose that’s for you to decide.”