Page 27 of Sea of Evil and Desire (The Deep Saga #1)

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Morgana

“T he Taberna is down here.” Edward jumped into a crater to our right.

Cut out of the rock face before him was a round opening. Strings of shells hung across it, jingling as we parted them.

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“You can swim down, but I must use this.” He grabbed a knotted rope fastened beside the entrance and began edging down into the darkness. I hesitated briefly as he vanished into the gloom before diving in after him.

I swam through shadows until lights appeared, revealing a rounded cave. I snapped my head from side to side, taking in everything as I plunged past Edward, who drifted leisurely down the rope. There were shelves carved into the rock at regular intervals, which were lined with bottles, trinkets, and paraphernalia and illuminated by glowing lights. I shot past more and more of them until I reached the sandy shop floor of the cavern shaft.

“Hurry up, would you?” I sniggered as Edward swayed precariously on the rope above.

“They do this on purpose, you know,” he huffed. “We have to debase ourselves just to get a few books.”

On the floor stood two large chests, overflowing with treasures and jewels. A heap of swords lay stacked beside a pile of shields and spears in one corner. Beneath a glass counter, pistols were neatly arranged, while the stone ledges above it displayed an eclectic mix of clocks, compasses, and radios. I even spotted an old microwave.

I could use my webs to propel myself upward and explore the towering shelves. Edward’s Drowned abilities meant that—unless he used the rope—he was confined to the sandy floor or the few lower-level shelves he could tread water to peer at.

I surveyed some of the higher shelves. Above the clutter on the lower levels, books of all colors, shapes, and sizes lined the upper rockface. Surely, there was something on Selkies here. Edward remained on the cavern floor, as if he didn’t want to degrade himself further by treading water.

“Not more rum.” I landed on the seabed beside him and leaned over his shoulder.

“Preservation potion,” he said, selecting a green glass bottle from the rack. “I suspect this whole cave has a preservation spell cast over it. However, we magically inept Drowned must purchase it in bottled form.” He grabbed a second bottle and handed it to me. “You should get some.”

“I don’t have any money.” I ran my fingers over the delicate blue glass. It sparkled, and I could sense its magic. It was stopped with a small cork.

Edward reached into his tattered pocket and produced a handful of coins. “Here.” He tipped them into my palm. “These will get you started, but I suggest you start winning at chess if you want more.”

My retort caught in my throat as I spotted an old merman behind the counter. How long had he been watching us?

His eyebrows were overgrown, but not enough to hide his piercing amber gaze. His skin hung limp and wrinkled about his chest, and whiskers pushed from his ears and cheeks. Unlike the prince and his companions’ vibrant-colored ones, this merman’s tail was a faded copper. Scales were missing in places, and here and there, a spattering of barnacles clung to it.

I followed Edward to the counter, clutching my little blue bottle.

“Do you have any books on Selkies or the—what did you call it?” I turned to Edward. “Prophecy of the Blue Temple.”

The old man’s amber eyes narrowed, and he started laughing.

“ I told you it was lost,” Edward hissed at my side.

I continued to look at the old man expectantly.

“No, we don’t have any books on the prophecy . If such a thing existed, it was lost thousands of years ago.” He pressed his long, thin fingers together and surveyed me over the top of them.

“W-well, what about Selkies . . . or the legend of Manannán and Siana Selich?”

“Can you read Tartessian or Ogham?” The merman raised a bushy white brow at me.

“Well, no.” Heat rose in my cheeks.

“Latin?” His mouth curved into a malicious grin. “Or Ancient Greek?”

“No,” I admitted, crestfallen.

“How about the Runes of the Ocean?”

I shook my head. He was mocking me.

“I thought not.”

“I—I can.” Edward bristled at my side.

“You can now, can you?” The merman turned his glistening eyes on Edward, raising both brows this time.

“W-well, Latin, and I’ve taught myself some Ancient Greek.” Edward flushed under his gaze.

“You two are very curious. The Drowned rarely ask me for books. Treasure maps, on the other hand . . .” He chuckled.

“Firstly, I’m not Drowned.” I gestured to my furry bodysuit. Edward shoved me and issued a look of warning. “Secondly, surely you have something that’s been translated into English.”

“Not Drowned?” The old merman looked me up and down. “Well, that explains it. Let me see.” He shot from behind the counter and glided toward the shelves wrapped around the cave ceiling. From below, I took in the full extent of his glimmering tail as he ran a sinewy arm along his beloved books.

“Ah,” he exclaimed as he plucked a thin title from the rows before him. “This should cater to your intellectual abilities.” He sailed back down and settled behind the glass counter before holding it out to me, his mouth curving into another grin.

“It’s a kids’ picture book!”

Slime coated the cover in a thin film, but one swipe from my webbed palm revealed an artist’s impression of a swirling sea. Around its edges were cartoon-like characters; sea snakes writhed in the bottom left corner, and above them, a beautiful woman sunned herself on some rocks. In the bottom right corner, a human, presumably Drowned, was brandishing a sword, and a merman and seal twirled above him. The title was written in the Runes of the Ocean.

“What does it say?” I asked, running my hands over the letters.

“ Myths of the Clans and Gods ,” the merman purred. Then he cackled as he added, “For little Mer children. You can start with the basics.” His pale chest heaved, and the loose pockets of skin around each of his nipples jiggled in unison.

“Can you buy me this as well?” I shoved the book at Edward.

He rolled his eyes but took it from me.

“That will be three silvers for each potion, and I’ll throw in the book for free.” The merman howled again.

As Edward rifled in his pocket, a shadow passed over his face. Was it my imagination? No, the darkness remained. Something—or someone—was blocking the azure light that had previously filtered through the rock opening high above us.

A chill swept the back of my neck as a thud sent the strands of shells tinkling and echoed down to the bottom of the cavern. My eyes narrowed on the old merman behind the counter. Was he about to take revenge for the graffiti in the bar? But he wasn’t looking malicious. His eyes were also fixed on the doorway above, wide with concern.

Before I could second-guess myself, instinct took over. I surged upward, weaving past the cluttered shelves and darting out of the cavern’s mouth. Outside, the water seemed darker than before as an icy wave brushed my skin. Sensing movement on the sandy expanse above, I pushed off the rock shelf, surging upward.

Before me, there was a stain upon the darkness. No, not a stain—a cloaked figure.

“Who’s there?” I yelled as another burst of adrenaline spread through me.

The figure stopped and slowly turned to face me, and the hem of its cloak spilled into the water like ink. My heart beat so fast that I was barely drawing oxygen. Under the hood, there was only darkness and a glint of gold—a mask.

A withered hand emerged from the folds of the cloak, pale skin stretched taut over bone, and streaks of silver shimmered faintly across long claw-like fingers, which curled as if grasping something unseen.

My insides coiled like a spring wound too tight. I knew I needed to act—to move—but my body pulled further away from the scene. I was back at the base of the Ferris wheel with Skye. Something about this figure stirred a familiar unease, reminding me of the strange man we had encountered.

I stumbled backward. The silhouette stood motionless, its cloak rippling in the swell before it vanished into the same dark cavern from which Edward and I had emerged earlier.

A stream of debris clouded the water around me. I sniffed, and my stomach rumbled as I spun around.

What the fuck?

A disembodied tail hacked from a giant fish had been daggered into the coral growing above the Taberna’s circular doorway. Its insides were streaming into the water around me. Below it, the word “DIE” was scrawled in the same silvery substance I had seen in the tavern—Mer blood.

“I think you guys should come and see this,” I called as bits of flesh and scales danced irritatingly around my face like flies on land.

Edward appeared in the shop’s entrance, looking panicky and flushed from climbing back up the rope. The old merman followed calmly behind him. Edward dry-heaved when he saw the giant fishtail. I wasn’t disgusted by the sight; in fact, it was making me hungry.

“Who do you think did this, and why?” I turned to the old merman.

“Bored, brainless, Drowned thugs,” he spat.

“Well, excuse me,” Edward hmphed.

“A knifed fishtail, and ‘Kill the Mer’ graffiti. You would think these were guerrilla messages meaning the same thing,” I mused aloud as I pulled out the dagger. The fishtail floated forlornly into the blue gloom. I resisted the urge to snack on it.

“Seeing as we are apparently dying, let’s leave the investigation to our kind.” The merman offered a cold smile, but his fists were balled.

I was still holding the dagger. Its blade was made of plain copper, and the edges were bitten by decay, but faint runes were visible in the metal. The hilt was roughly constructed, but two red stones shone brightly from either side of an irregular carving. It wasn’t a picture, just swirling lines. It reminded me of my nightmares.