Page 8 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

Chapter six

Nahla

Deserter.

Through a cloud of bubbles, Ramona’s rough shell passes before me. Her fins angle, then tuck, and she dives. The palmwoods bend, trailing in the water. A few loose barrels get caught in the current and spiral away from her shell to be lost to the deep.

Traitor.

My heart aches. My fins itch to chase her. To catch up, somehow, as she gains speed. My friends, my home, my past, my future—it all fades into the blue.

Disappointment.

The voice in my head sounds a lot like Winona, so I ignore it.

The more water I can put between us before my deed is discovered, the better.

Ramona heads west, so I angle northeast. I’ll skirt the Frost basin and loop south.

Keen said there’s life beyond the known sea, and I’ll be the first to go there and back again.

With one final glance at Ramona’s wake, I steel myself. I ball my fists and ready my gills for the journey.

The current beneath my fins, I cut through the water with speed. My gills slip into an efficient flutter. I open my mouth to catch the scent of the sea, following the bitter trail that will lead me northward. My tail pumps with purpose. Easy.

No one to tell me where to go. When to sleep. What to eat. I’m the maker of my own way, and I’ve never felt so free in my life.

I can do this.

***

I can’t do this.

The first rays of morning light pierce the surface, filtering through the waves with dancing hues of gold and pink.

And I haven’t slept a wink.

I swam all day and through the night, unable to stave the sense of being watched. Like a million pairs of eyes were on me, hidden in the depths. My stomach tingles as I think of their invisible gaze.

Beasts don’t care if you’re royal or low-born. You’re either food or foe, and I look a lot like the first one.

The sea is endless. Lonely. I swim for hours without spotting a single creature. Blue stretches in every direction, and my mind spins until it feels like I’m swimming in place, getting nowhere. My body shrinks, a tiny golden fleck swallowed by the blue.

I need to find cover. Or friends. A large pod of fleetwhales would do, if I’m lucky enough to find them. The gentle giants rarely mind a clinger or two.

But I can’t catch their scent. Out here, I’m alone.

I reach with my magic, every so often, to detect predators. But my energy is depleting fast. I need to sleep before it can renew. So I keep it locked tight, swimming with mental blinders on.

Already, I miss the protection of Ramona. If I see her in the future, never again will I take her guardianship for granted.

Fear’s teeth puncture and chew until my gut is a mess of panic. My gills filter oxygen at a frantic rhythm.

What was I thinking?

I’m a silly little princess. Not a hunter. Not a warrior. I should be home in a plush bed, a guard at my door. Snacks at the ready on a silver tray. Or strapped in the saddle where it’s safe.

My stomach growls. I really didn’t think this through.

A swarm of sweetfish darts from my path, terror white in their eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter.

They thrash their tails and flutter out of my depth of vision.

Weariness weighs like an anchor. I can’t maintain this pace; I can’t sleep, either. Not with those eyes on me.

But the expanse stretches on, and my vision grows heavy. My heart slows.

I let my body become like reedgrass, flowing where the currents take me.

And I drift.

For days. Weeks, maybe. I’ve lost track of the pattern of the sky.

I sleep with one eye open.

I snatch fish to calm my hunger, consuming their flesh with murmured apologies.

The sea gradually cools and the sun pales. My muscles wake to the chill, and I shiver. I’ve drifted into northern waters, that much is clear, but I don’t know how far I’ve come.

The water parts around my face as I break the surface.

Night air greets me with a chilling kiss.

Across a starlit sky, bright streaks of light ripple like glittering scales set aflame.

Mountains crest the sea in the distance, mammoth white caps jutting above the waves. The skylights play on the snow.

I spit the water from my mouth, letting it drop into the waves.

A chill crawls over my wet scalp, and not just from the air. I tilt back, lifting my tail to float. The waves hold me, and I watch the lights with joy in my heart. Have I ever seen anything so beautiful?

I want nothing more than to be closer to them. I reach my hand high, as if I might grasp their ribbons between my fingers and draw from their power.

Forget south. If there’s a place for me among these mountains, I’d gladly spend eternity beneath this tetra-colored sky.

But it’s not close enough. So I roll over and thread the waves, leaping in slow arcs toward the mountains.

I catch the scent of glosswhales and call them with a low whistle. They rise to the surface, flanking me.

One catches my gaze, its curious eye bright with mischief. I reach for it with my magic, singing a connection spell.

Race me?

Pleasure colors its mind. Its tail kicks hard, and it lurches forward.

I brighten at the chase.

The mountains draw closer. Under the waves, they’re formidable, sloping beneath my line of sight. When we near the rock face, the glosswhale turns, pod in tow. We swim parallel to the rock, gaining speed.

The glosswhales chirp and chatter. I join in quiet song, harmonizing with their chaotic melody.

Is this what my life could be?

Unfettered by political posturing? Just me and the waves and the creatures of the sea.

Ahead, a narrow channel splits the mountains, lined with iron spikes. Ice floes bob, their dark shadows teetering above me.

The glosswhales adjust their aim, slipping between the gap in the rocks.

Fear prickles my scalp, and I stall, backpedaling my fins. My song dies in my mouth, and my connection to the glosswhales severs. The bitter scent of the water grows stronger, coating my throat.

This is Frost territory.

I may have skipped political lessons, but I know between that gap lies a kingdom harsh and cruel. Their royal’s heart is as cold as the castle he calls home.

I can’t just wander into the Rime. It’s one thing to admire the skylights. Quite another to ask for hospitality from a tyrannical king.

Ahead, the glosswhales chirp, circling back to collect me.

I chew my lip.

Reckless. Foolish. Traitor.

My stomach sinks as Winona’s voice returns. I can almost picture her scowl, regal as ever. Disappointed, yet again. If she knew I was risking a dip in the Rime for a few more minutes of fun, my sister would scream—in that silent, internal way of hers.

Do it.

Adrenaline fills my veins, and I ache with longing. It’s a small rebellion. Nothing too major, just a little trespassing…

I can’t wander into foreign territory and expect to swim away unscathed. What happens if I get caught? Do I pretend to be lost and confused? A regular damsel in distress routine—they’ll never see that coming. I’m fucked.

But what if I don’t stay long?

What if I finish this race, then leave?

It’s well past midnight by now. What are the odds of meeting a Frost Guard patrol at this time of night? I could sneak in and out, no problem. Stick to the periphery, finish our race, and then I’ll be on my way.

Harmless.

The Frost King will never know I was here, and neither will Winona.

The glosswhales chitter, nudging me with their glassy noses. My heart melts, and I can’t say no.