Page 23

Chapter twenty-three

T obias was impossibly numb-skulled as a dragon! Thessa’s gaze wandered to Raggon, whose shoulders were quickly sagging in despair as they did everything to coax the ornery beast to join them in the lagoon.

His brother’s glistening black body wrapped around the heart-arch, squeezing the colorful limestone like a python. The obsidian scales caught the sunlight in iridescent blues and purples, its tough hide a cruel reminder of the creature’s predatory nature, though perhaps crueler was how it dragged along the copper whistler as its toy. Tobias blinked down at them past the waterfall with unsettling gold eyes, vertical pupils narrowing to slits when the light shifted.

They hadn’t changed to that deep mahogany brown when Tobias had come to himself for that brief instant on the ship, but stayed frustratingly blank like a dumb beast.

Sterling screeched down at them from a nearby branch. “Man the cannons! Brother overboard!” The bird’s voice carried an uncanny echo of Tobias’s inflections, as though some fragment of the young man remained in the creature’s heart.

Precious hours slipped through their fingers while they tried to entice the terrifying creature away from its perch. They flashed the gleaming metal from Undine’s Blade in the sunlight, letting its enchanting glow catch the dragon’s attention—which only earned them a nod from the massive horned head; they created fascinating clanging noises by striking river stones against hollowed logs and the metal from Raggon’s remaining belt buckle—sounds that by all right should bring the armies of Circe against them.

An inevitable clash between them was meant to be, and still Thessa’s every instinct screamed against it. The hilt of Undine’s Blade stung her hand in a disturbing way, cold with the call of blood that it demanded of her.

“Sister! Sister! Strike down the enemy of our people!”

She never would’ve touched it so soon had she not been trying to keep Raggon away. The moment her hand had brushed the mermaid hair fringing the hilt, it writhed against her skin like fiery ice, sending tendrils of numbing waves into her arms and chest that threatened death… and something worse, it spoke to her as nothing had before.

“Pierce the heart of the enemy through before night descends upon you!”

The wait was over. The once welcoming beams of the sun dipping in the sky was now a threat—the enemy of their people was to die at sunset.

All while Thessa had never harmed a barnacle spat!

Meanwhile Raggon paced the water’s edge, focused like a circling tiger shark, calling to his brother, whistling, imploring, cooing. That ended with an angry shout and throwing his belt buckle into the lagoon. A loud, perhaps even amused, snort from above followed the splash.

Nothing was working! However, the intrigued dragon craned its neck to watch these funny humans with nostrils flaring, sampling their scent on the humid air. Each movement of its massive head sent ripples of muscle beneath the glossy scales, causing the copper whistle clutched in its talons to clang with a hollow, echoing rhythm.

Raggon cried out in defeat. “Tobias! Are you in there… at all?” His eyes glistened with emotion as he stared up at the creature that had once been his brother. “Please,” he begged. He stepped closer to the water’s edge. “I know you’re still—” His foot slipped on the moss-slick stone. A sharp yell escaped him as he caught himself on a jagged crystal embedded in the rock.

An echoing howl followed his—this was louder, more primal, and infinitely more terrifying—an ancient sound that vibrated through the very stone beneath them. The dragon swept down from its perch. A thunderous crash shook the ground as it landed on the jungle floor, sending a flock of scarlet macaws scattering skyward in a panicked cloud.

Thessa held her breath. Massive kapok trees splintered; mahogany trunks cracked as the powerful wings knocked into every obstacle as the heavy steps pounded all the closer.

Tobias would crush them with his love!

“Avast! Man the lifeboats!” Sterling swooped frantically overhead, adding to the din.

“Raggon!” she called out a warning. But he didn’t move, his shoulders steeling against the coming impact of meeting up with his brother. The dragon’s shadow fell over him, blotting out the dappled sunlight as the creature slowed before him, like a dog rushing to the aid of its master.

A sound that could almost be called sympathetic trembled through the winding throat, before a massive head lowered until it was level with Raggon’s chest. Steam rose from nostrils in gentle puffs that stirred Raggon’s sweat-dampened hair, the next instant, it sniffed curiously at his injured hand.

Seeming to steady himself, Raggon reached out tentatively, his bloodied hand trembling as he moved his palm toward the creature’s chest. His fingers touched the crimson scales of the underbelly, the contact sounding eerily like the thud of a drum.

The dragon remained perfectly still, almost docile, under his brother’s hand. Gold eyes flickered, the vertical slits widening and contracting until they widened into warm brown orbs—human eyes in a monster’s face.

Raggon’s hands traveled to the sea steel molded against the dragon’s neck like a barnacle to a ship’s hull. His fingers traced the unyielding material until it disappeared into Tobias’s scaled throat where flesh and metal met in an unholy union. The dark iron had to still be intact under the flesh, intertwined with the sea steel in a malevolent binding circle that kept the dragon from shifting. Perhaps when the dark iron fully dissolved, the silvery metal might finally fall away—but by then, the curse would be irreversible, his brother lost forever to this monstrous form.

“Thessa,” Raggon said quietly, his voice barely audible above the waterfall’s roar. “Bring the blade.”

She moved with deliberate care, trying to hurry without startling his brother away. Undine’s Blade felt heavy in her hand; its mermaid-blessed hilt pulsing with an inner light that matched the rhythm of her racing heart.

Raggon watched her with a desperate look that broke her heart. If she failed to free Tobias from this curse? Well, she couldn’t. She studied the Typhon’s Kiss, deciding that cutting through the still visible sea steel would cause the least amount of damage.

She told herself to concentrate, her hands to be precise. Steady. Steady! Lifting the blade with trembling fingers, she froze in place.

The power of the siren call reached her before the sound did, snapping her joints into the frame of a statue. Thessa recognized her own voice with shock, the lilting notes that once flowed through her own throat and knew what was happening when her muscles locked painfully. She could neither turn nor speak, trapped within her body like a prisoner.

Horror spread over Raggon’s face as the dragon’s eyes shifted back to its bestial gold, its animalistic gaze homing in on the figure slithering forward from the jungle’s edge.

Circe had come, terrifying in her beauty. Her black shadowsilk rustled like insect wings as she invaded the clearing. The low neckline revealing pale skin that glowed with an unholy light. Blood-red eyes gleamed from a face made more unsettling by crimson paint smeared around her eyes in a grotesque mask. Around her throat hung the shell necklace that once belonged to Thessa’s mother—a sacrilege that made bile rise in her daughter’s throat.

What was happening? Scylla had made a deal with Thessa not to use her voice until two days’ time. The appointed hour hadn’t been reached yet! Thessa couldn’t voice her objection, couldn’t move, trapped in the honeyed cage of her stolen voice. Thessa’s eyes burned with unshed tears. The ache of home sliced through her at every familiar, haunting note.

The Land Witch’s long black hair cascaded freely down her back, the glossy strands partially concealing the writhing mass of red and black tentacles that erupted from between her shoulder blades. Each appendage moved with independent purpose, their surfaces slick with slime that caught the golden light of the sinking sun.

One of those dreadful appendages seized on Raggon, coiling around his throat and chest with frightening speed. Thessa’s screams caught against her tongue, unable to find release. Would Circe strangle the man who’d come to mean everything to her?

Raggon was powerless against the melody of Thessa’s stolen voice. “Ah, my betrothed… how dare you run from me?” Circe purred out in her song. Her ruby lips curved into a smile that never reached her crimson eyes. The tentacles tightened, lifting him off his feet.

Veins stood out on his forehead as he fought for each breath, his eyes never leaving Thessa’s, even as Circe placed a chain over his neck. Thessa gasped when she saw it was made of the same sea steel that kept his brother from shifting! No, no! They’d come so far, only to be stopped with a trick!

“You won’t be so free now that I have your brother,” Circe sang out.

Another tentacle shot through the air to muzzle Tobias’s snout with a chain of bones. Additional tentacles wielding chains made of less gruesome material, pinned the dragon’s wings to its side with the iron’s sickening crunch. She’d effectively bound the powerful princes with every trap in her arsenal.

Sterling flew in frantic circles above them, joining the other birds in the clearing unaffected by her song. “Dead men sing no tales! Beware the witch of eight arms!” the parrot shrieked, diving recklessly close to Circe’s head before retreating to the safety of the canopy.

Yeah, got it, Sterling—she’s here. Thanks for the well-timed warning!

The instant the dragon was secured, the witch stopped the siren song abruptly… making Thessa want to weep, wishing it would bless her again with its notes, which was… incomprehensible!

Raggon dropped to the ground, gasping and coughing, his eyes raging with fire.

Thessa’s voice returned in a rush that nearly choked her. “How is it you have my powers?” she shouted, the present sound rushing over her tongue feeling crude and unnatural after she’d heard the real thing. “Scylla was not given permission to use it until two days had passed.”

The witch made a mocking pout with her blood-red lips. “Scylla, my dear, has no permission, but surely, I am not bound by your promise, am I?”

So, this was how Circe would cheat through her bargain? Her father had warned her to beware of Scylla’s deceit!

Circe’s armies moved through the jungle behind her; their loud approach brought with them a wave of destruction. Their leader was a hulking brute with a matted black beard and rheumy eyes that gleamed with cruel intelligence. His elaborate captain’s coat hung open, revealing a chest covered in crude tattoos and scars.

He shoved a familiar figure ahead of him. “We have more of your friends with us,” he crooned. The elegantly dressed man before him looked worse for wear, a nasty bruise discoloring his aristocratic features, standing out starkly against skin lined with age, and still Thessa sagged with relief at seeing him.

“Morris,” Raggon called out in breathless anguish. “You’re alive!”

Determination burned in the older man’s eyes despite his disheveled appearance. His posture remained regal even with his hands bound before him. “Just so, Your Majesty,” he replied, his gaze was steady.

The brute shoved him aside, barreling for Thessa. The pirate captain’s lips pulled back in a yellow-toothed smile that sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine. “Ah… the mermaid has legs.” His forehead creased as his bloodshot eyes took in her attire. “Is that my banyan!” His sneer was colored with dark amusement. So, this was the fierce Maddox! The stench of his unwashed body made her stomach turn. “What else have you stolen from me, maid?”

Thessa shrugged, fighting to keep her face impassive. “There was nothing else of value in your cabin—only moldy curtains and plaster painted over with cheap gold.”

“Perhaps I should take you back there,” his threat carried the sour stench of rum and cruelty. “I could show you an appreciation for the finer things.”

A guttural roar tore from Raggon’s throat as he lunged to his feet, charging at Maddox with a storm in his eyes. A tentacle shot for him, stopping him mid-run and pinning him against the trunk of a massive ceiba tree.

“Raggon!” Thessa cried. Terror seized her heart at seeing his face contorted in pain. She rushed for him. Another tentacle found her, wrapping around her ankles and sending her crashing to the dirt. The scarlet mass dragged her up from her knees, coiling around her torso until her arms were pinned to her sides, Undine’s Blade trapped uselessly in her imprisoned hand.

She felt something wet and glistening patting against her cheek. The stench of decay filled her nostrils. Each of the witch’s tentacles pulsed with nauseating life, the mottled skin rippling with muscular contractions that left slimy trails across her cheek.

“Ah my! How sweet! Could it be you love the enemy of your people, sea creature?” Circe’s voice dripped with false sympathy. “After all your foul intentions to run your blade through his heart?”

A gasp pulled from Thessa’s lips at the lie.

Circe turned her attention on Raggon, her smile widening to reveal sharpened teeth. “You can thank me later… for saving your life, my charming suitor. You see, this lovely sea creature needed to kill the prince of the Sylphorian kingdom to save her own people.” She glided closer to him, one pale hand reaching out to stroke his cheek while her tentacles held him immobile. “Poor girl, she seems to have developed a fondness for you—quite the moral dilemma, I’m sure.”

Thessa’s heart lunged through her throat in panic. Did Raggon believe what Circe had said? Their eyes met across the clearing, and she saw confusion warring in his expression. “You’re the enemy, Circe!” Thessa shouted, struggling against her bonds. A tentacle slithered across her face, wrapping around her mouth. The taste of salt and rotting flesh flooded her senses, making her gag.

The witch giggled, her shoulders quivering delicately under her rippling tentacles. “No, no, that’s the beauty of it—in order for you to break the curse, you had to finish what your ancestor Undine began. It is Raggon who must die!”

But it wasn’t true! He was nothing like Circe! And yet… the blade had hungered for him. No matter! Everything this dreadful woman did proved the opposite.

“Unfortunately, we can’t have you stabbing a Sylphorian prince, maid—he belongs to me.” Circe turned back to him, sighing happily under his helpless glare. “Our wedding will be beautiful—Oh! Our children will be beautiful.”

She’d tear out that woman’s deceitful tentacles from their roots! No matter how Thessa attempted to wriggle free, she was stuck. The creepy appendages holding her in place jiggled as Circe approached the massive dragon. Pointed fingernails ran down the scaled neck. “A magnificent beast!” The muscular crimson throat rippled in agitation, but Tobias wasn’t going anywhere under his bonds—enchanted or otherwise. “He will be perfect for my collection,” she purred, leaning forward to plant a kiss on the dragon’s muzzled snout. “I shall chain him in our grand ballroom, Raggon. What conversation piece could be finer than dancing around a prince turned monster?”

Raggon’s blue eyes glittered with rage at the final insult.

Her smiles were maddeningly cheery in return. “If your brother isn’t too naughty,” she whispered to the dragon, “then I will take good care of my new pet.”

Raggon tried to kick free from her tentacle’s grip, but he was well and truly stuck. His fist ran angrily into the ground.

“Listen to me… human ,” Circe had reached Thessa next, whispering into her ear. Her voice turned melodic, hypnotizing, using Thessa’s former powers in ways that she’d never known possible. “Return you to the sea with your blade unused and your curse unbroken, and there, meet my sister Scylla and dissolve into seafoam as Undine did long ago!”

Thessa inhaled a deep panic, even as the spell of her own voice wove through her and tightened her limbs… to obey!

Past the crushed trees in the jungle, the sun continued its inevitable descent, dipping closer to the moving canvas of blue waves, the molten rays dripping and glistening against Undine’s Blade in Thessa’s hand—a sublime, unspeakable beauty that would only bring her death.

A cold dread spread through her chest, numbing her fingertips even as her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. The hilt carrying the mermaid hair of her ancestors murmured despondently under her grip. “Enemy… is near. Sunset is upon us. Do not forsake us as Undine did.”

Time was running out.

Circe glared at the dagger—perhaps for refusing to fall under her spell—and released Thessa from her tentacles with a flick of her wrist. “Go, go, go…!”

Thessa gasped for breath, her lungs squeezing in agony as she tried to struggle against the order. Undine’s Blade answered to no one—even the stolen treasure of the siren’s voice. Her fingers tightened on the hilt, hoping to draw from its strength, willing herself to turn it on the witch. Instead, her traitorous legs began to move of their own accord, caught by the Land Witch’s spell. They carried her past Raggon, whose face contorted with anguish and desperation. He strained against Circe’s tentacled grip and those wicked chains she’d placed over him, veins standing out on his neck as he fought to reach her.

“Thessa!” Her name tore from his lips. “Fight it! You’re stronger than her magic!”

The witch’s spell didn’t even allow her to spare him a glance, and how she wished she could one last time—to gaze upon him, search for what she hoped was forgiveness in those blue eyes, even to feel his arms locked around her before she felt the sea’s final embrace.

Instead, Scylla left her nothing but broken dreams and the hint of betrayal lingering in the air.

Morris’s kindly face was drawn in sorrow as she passed him too; she was forced to follow the broken pathway left behind by Circe’s beastly army through the jungle. The sea sparkled like distant stars beyond the pristine white sands. The golden hour was well upon them as heavenly rays painted a burnished glow across a home that no longer felt like her own.

Her heart sank deeper than her kingdom’s underground caverns. She’d failed her father. The thought sickened her, but knowing she’d never see Raggon again filled her with unmeasurable grief. The coin from his home country settled against her throat. They’d had a love that transcended the ancient hatreds between their people, a love that might have healed old wounds had fate not been so cruel.

The dagger pulsed against her palm, its magic resonating with the human body that had been her curse… and her gift. Undine’s Blade raged against sparing her people’s enemy, begged her to reconsider, to turn around, to avoid her fate, because in mere moments, Thessa would reach the hungry sea, and her chance to love him would be lost forever.