Page 10

Chapter ten

S cylla’s tentacles shot out like harpoons, wrapping around Thessa before she could react. The Sea Witch’s previously cheerful expression twisted into something ancient and cruel, her teeth sharp as shark’s bones in the cavern’s eerie light. “Hold still, little princess.” Magic whirled around them in a dark current, clinging to Thessa’s tail where the luminous scales shimmered with their own inner light, each one a testament to her royal heritage.

Her beautiful tail! Would she never see it again?

“These spells are complicated. Quit wriggling, girl!”

“What happened to goddaughter?” Thessa snapped through her fear.

The Sea Witch snorted with amusement, the sound echoing off the cavern walls where trapped horrors watched from their bottles. Now Thessa knew where those laugh lines had come from—pure mockery at the suffering of others. The tentacles constricted tighter, and magic like black ink began to spiral around her tail.

The transformation hit like a tidal wave. Pain split through Thessa as her tail divided, scales dissolving into foam. Thessa could no longer keep back the scream. Her legs—legs!—thrashed in the water, feeling alien and wrong. The spell was not yet complete since she could still breathe underwater. Thankfully! But she didn’t doubt Scylla would strip that away too, using every cruel trick in her bejeweled limbs. “You did that the most painful way possible!”

“Undine never complained so!” Scylla huffed, her breath reeking of a deep-sea predator. Her fingers ran over Thessa’s new skin, and where they touched, an iridescent fabric formed—a dress made of countless tiny scales that felt both familiar and prickly, like the ghost of her tail wrapped around human limbs.

“Now for your powers!” Scylla’s tentacles shot up and snapped the shell necklace from Thessa’s throat.

“That was from my mother!” The words came out half-sob, half-snarl.

“And now it is mine—it is only right since I gave it to her… for an occasion such as this, might I add! It will be a pretty place for a siren’s voice!” Scylla’s green eyes burned with venomous triumph.

What sort of friendship had her mother shared with this monster? Thessa fought against the tentacles wrapping around her throat. “You—you promised to leave… my—my speech!”

“And so I shall, now cooperate, or I’ll make you croak as a frog.”

That wasn’t part of the bargain! But Thessa pressed her lips together, watching as Scylla produced a tiny black pearl that sucked all light from its presence. A tentacle forced her mouth open and jammed the vile thing against her tongue. “Swallow!”

The pearl slid down like ice, and immediately her stomach roiled. A burning sensation flooded her sides as her gills began to seal, the delicate filaments collapsing inward. Panic seized her as water stopped flowing through them—her only means of drawing breath from the sea vanishing.

Immediately, something strange bloated under her ribs, pushing outward with excruciating force. Lungs! Those were lungs growing inside her! Not the tide chambers that merfolk occasionally used to venture above the sea, but an entirely different organ. They pressed against her chest like trapped creatures, demanding air that the waters couldn’t give her.

Unable to contain her terror, she screamed. The sound shook the cavern—bottles and vials danced on their shelves, strange creatures within them thrashing in response to the power behind her voice. The walls themselves shuddered, the watching eyes blinking rapidly.

Scylla shrieked out her satisfaction, holding out the shell necklace. She whispered words that made the currents cringe away until all at once the scream cut off with an “urp” as Thessa’s voice was ripped from her throat. The necklace vibrated, glowing with an inner light before going dark. The cavern fell eerily silent. “Got it!” The tentacles released her with a shove.

Gasping, Thessa rose through the water, her mouth filling with water, her lungs burned! Poseidon’s wrath! She hadn’t bargained for safe passage from the cavern. Would this be how Scylla destroyed her?

“The instant you touch Undine’s Blade, you have until the sea swallows the sun to stab your worthless enemy through. If you fail, you too will transform to seafoam like Undine! Fare you well, princess! Your ride is here… though I doubt you will succeed!” Scylla’s gaze turned to the watching eyes in the walls. “Charybdis!” she commanded. “Deliver her to the enemy of her people!”

The cavern convulsed. And the monster hiding from within the walls burst forth—its flesh the same corrupted black as the cavern stone. Half the lair collapsed as the creature revealed itself, leaving nothing but the open sea between Thessa and the distant surface. The beast roared, its maw opening as it came for her.

Thessa tried to swim away, but her new legs betrayed her. Unable to fight, unable to scream through the waters, she kicked as the darkness swallowed her whole, making her fall into an endless pit until she met a pocket of air in the monster’s belly. Unable to stop the hunger screaming from her lungs, Thessa inhaled the bitter air, and coughed and choked, spitting up the water she’d already swallowed.

As foul as this air was, Thessa could breathe, and she gulped it thankfully.

The world tilted as Charybdis swam upward, carrying her toward the surface and exile. Terror filled her—Scylla was so sure she would fail, and why wouldn’t she? Thessa couldn’t bring herself to stab anyone, enemy or not!

What kind of bargain had she made?

And still, her father had a chance now—one he hadn’t had before. But he’d hate her for it. Thessa huddled in the damp darkness, wrapping her arms around unfamiliar legs. These strange limbs felt wrong—too light, too separate, nothing like the powerful tail she’d commanded through ocean currents her entire life.

She made herself as small as possible, knees drawn to her chest, the scale-like dress Scylla had given her bunching around her. She traced the hem where it almost reached her knees, fingers trembling as they explored the boundary between this new covering and the alien texture of skin beneath.

Each sway of Charybdis’ movement reminded her how far she was traveling from everything she knew, every familiar coral formation and hidden grotto now becoming nothing more than memory. She’d never see Father or her sisters again! Something wet ran down her cheek, startling her with its warmth.

What was that?

A sound echoing through her ears made her jump—a deep bellow, and all at once, the monster’s pink rolling tongue slid over her in a stinky caress and propelled her out into the depths of the sea. Heavy currents pulled at her! She’d never felt the water like this against her bare flesh. She tumbled through the water, tangling in ropes as the slimy bodies of fish ran up against her.

A fishing net!

She thrashed, trying to free herself, but her useless human legs only entangled her further. After everything she’d sacrificed, she’d drown? She could almost hear Scylla’s mocking laughter. The need to breathe overcame her again, and growing desperate, Thessa kicked. The net jerked upward, rushing her toward the black shadow of something that was very familiar to her—a ship!

The net hauled her from the water and into air that felt too thin, too sharp in her new lungs. Trapped among the dying fish, she tried to comfort them, her own heart warring within her. She landed on the deck of the ship and braced as the net came open. She slid out with the fish onto the hard wooden planks, letting out a strange noise.

The voice was still her own—Scylla had given her that—but there was no power behind it.

A sun-burnt face loomed over her, eyes bulging. “Did we catch a mermaid?” He sounded rough, bloodthirsty, nothing like the man she’d rescued earlier. Had that only been this morning? It seemed so long ago. The sunset painted the tall masts in blood-red light, threatening to end one of the most terrifying days of her existence.

The ship creaked beneath her as she stared at the men whose eyes devoured her like predators sizing up prey. Fear coiled around her heart, so she could barely breathe with her new lungs. They watched her in a strange way. These weren’t men, but sharks, circling before an attack.

A bruising grip found her arm and dragged her away from the fish, sliding her across the splintered planks of the deck. “No, not a mermaid!” he cried. “A woman!”

Wind tore through her coppery red hair, shocking her skin. The world felt different—glancing down, she saw Scylla’s gift in the light of the fading sun—a dress of iridescent scales that barely covered her new legs. Bumps rose on her flesh at the rush of wind. She’d never known cold could bite like this.

“Hello, pretty.” The giant sailor’s gaze made her skin crawl. A whip coiled at his belt like a sleeping eel, and tattoos crawled up his neck. The unwavering way he watched her promised nothing nice.

“Ooh.” A man with hair shaved close to his head, moved for her, a gold ring glinting in one ear. His fists looked to be used as weapons. “Don’t throw her back yet, August. We’ve got ourselves a good catch here.”

“She’s mine… I found her,” the man named August snarled, hand moving to his whip.

What was this? No man owned her!

The sound of the whip cracking against the deck made her cry out. Looking to the side, she saw the crimson beast of Circe’s flag snap proudly through the wind. Her heart sank. No wonder she’d come upon such boorish manners–she was in unfriendly territory. And yet… could she jump back into the vicious sea? Anything was preferable to these men.

Before she could, a commanding shout broke through the fighting. “What is that you have there?”

“A woman, Captain. We caught her in our net.”

“Out here?” The voice turned suspicious. Boots approached, then a cry of warning: “Cover your ears!”

A man materialized in front of her like mist on the sea. Her lungs seized as she met those piercing blue eyes—the same ones that had gazed into hers just before that kiss.

Was he really here? His hands on her felt quite solid, the same ones that had wonderingly touched her hair were throwing a dirty rag across her lips.

She let out a yelp before all sound was smothered. He was tying that gag over her mouth.

“Raggon?” A more refined voice spoke from behind him. “What are you doing to that woman?”

“I promise you; that’s no woman!” His low voice, deep and resonant, sent shivers through her, just as they had on the beach when he’d asked breathlessly if she was real.

“She looks like a w—”

“Don’t be fooled!”

Raggon! His name was Raggon? His hands were all over her as he bound her wrists, tying her hands behind her. She made a sound of protest, edged with frustration when it was lost against the gag. Curse Scylla! How could she not have orchestrated this entire meeting? The trickster!

Raggon was a brute—his touch was rough, like he feared she’d use her powers against his people. He didn’t seem to mind before when he’d watched her with his heart in his eyes.

What had changed in a single day?

She groaned low in her throat, wishing desperately for her siren’s voice. Raggon dragged her to her feet with no more thought than he’d do to a struggling sea turtle. “You think you can just put on some legs and trick us all?” he hissed in her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine. “How stupid do you think I am? I never forget a face… and never one like yours!”

Was that an accusation or a compliment? He tugged her away from the leering crew. The men whispered amongst themselves, some grinning. At her first step, her legs jerked weakly beneath her, and she tripped. These alien limbs were too difficult to master.

Cursing low under his breath, Raggon reached down and tossed her into his arms, not missing a stride. The heat of his body seeped into hers, despite her best efforts to remain untouched. A few crude chuckles followed them.

“Where are you taking her?” The refined man hurried after them, sounding concerned now.

“My cabin… oh, stop looking at me like that, Morris! It’s fine! You know me better than that.”

The man let out a blustering snort. “That’s not the point! Think of…” his voice lowered, “… appearances.”

“The rules of humans don’t apply to her! She’s a siren!”

What rules! And how did he recognize her? Thessa’s mind spun, trying to grasp everything happening, but one thing was certain, the world of man was as cruel and unforgiving as her father had warned. The bonds against her wrists burned behind her back, her hands caught against the firm stomach of her unrelenting captor. His grip on her was the only thing keeping her from toppling from his arms. She had to find a way to survive long enough to save her father’s life.

“You’re not exempt!” Morris chided. “You’re more human than you should be! And you’re out of control! Listen to reason!”

“I’ve got this well in hand!” Raggon practically threw her into his cabin.

Her legs betrayed her again, sending her stumbling onto his four-post bed. The impact knocked her breath away, and her first dizzying impression was of gold—everywhere gold, like a dragon’s hoard gone mad. Crimson velvet drapes framed column-like bedposts, and gilded mirrors multiplied her terror from every wall.

“Stop! Raggon! Have you lost your head? Remember what your mother…”

The door slammed on Morris’s protests for decorum. Raggon turned to her, his dark hair and piercing gaze made him seem all the more dangerous. Her heart skipped. There was a storm in his blue eyes. She inched back on the elaborate coverlet, noticing everything about him, the leather cord carrying an elaborate gold coin, the billowing black shirt that flowed around his powerful frame, the worn sea boots that rose above his knees, marked by salt and adventure.

Her eyes lingered on his lips, full and firm, the memory of their touch against hers still burning on her skin. Her breath caught.

If only he’d never kissed her!

He seemed taller now, more imposing as he loomed over her, the crystal chandelier casting fractured shadows across his face. Her neck strained as she looked up at him, her pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

You never really knew him—remember that! He’s brought you to his shrine of excess and power. Distance yourself, girl!

Those thoughts scattered as he closed in on her, catching her shoulder. “You’re going to help me, sea maid… I need the Undine Blade.”

Her heart nearly stopped. He was after it, too? Circe’s flag had whipped around the white sails of his ship, showing who he served. None of this was coincidence. What game was Scylla playing with the both of them?

The gag made it impossible to demand answers.

His eyes roved over the strange dress Scylla had gifted her—she was almost tempted to look down to see what she’d missed earlier, except Raggon’s expression arrested her. Confusion and curiosity softened his features—curse the man, the stupefied look was almost adorable against all this threatening splendor. “What are you… wearing?” he asked finally.

Was that a crack in his voice?

She couldn’t very well answer, now could she? And he was to blame for that! She could only glare in response. Shivers coursed through her body. The cold from this gloomy, garish cabin seemed to seep from the gilt-covered walls themselves.

Were humans always freezing like this?

His lips twisted when he met her angry eyes. If he was amused by this, she’d have his head! Well, as soon as she got the upper hand! Clearing his throat, he checked her gag, his movements turning brisk. His thumb brushed across her chin, sending sparks through her that should’ve been extinguished long ago.

Ah, raging tides! This new human body was nothing but trouble! Forget those kisses already! The instant she was free, she’d throttle Raggon for daring to touch her. The golden eels against the columned posts watched on with silent amusement.

“Get used to that gag,” he said. “You’re not using your siren’s powers on me again.”

She meant to roll her eyes, but another violent tremor betrayed her. This cabin was far too chilly with these damp clothes—Scylla needn’t have bothered with curses of daggers in her every footstep. Being human was torture enough.

The bed dipped as Raggon sat beside her, the gold-threaded coverlet catching the lamplight. His fingers, bearing the marks of countless battles, moved with surprising gentleness as he tucked the luxurious blanket around her shoulders. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered.

If he’d only let her tell him. Instead, she found herself leaning slightly into him, shamelessly stealing his warmth. Her heart beat out a treacherous rhythm at the proximity. Trust was a luxury she could ill afford, but something in his touch made her wish she could. Even surrounded by all this evidence of a man who loved power and display, his gentleness made her wonder what lay beneath the surface.

Around them, the ostentatious cabin seemed to hold its breath. She closed her eyes, caught between two worlds—the sea that was her birthright and the islands where the Undine Blade waited, calling beyond these lurid walls.

Yet in this stolen moment, only one man stood in her way. Her eyes fluttered open to find him watching her. The glittering chandelier caught the sharp angles of his face, softening them just enough to reveal a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his carefully maintained facade.

Friend or enemy to her people, she couldn’t tell—but she knew with certainty that Raggon was no simple pirate, and their fates were now as intertwined as seaweed in a current.