Page 61 of When the Wicked Sing (The Leruna Sea #1)

Salt. The taste—the feeling—flooded Mariana’s gills, stroked her hair, and held her close like a loving mother’s hug, welcoming her home the moment she was spat out into the sea. But that comforting feeling faded quickly as the pain in her body and heart became all-consuming.

Flashes of memory ripped her mind apart. The fear in Astra’s pale eyes. The roar of the water bursting free from its restraints, crashing down with a vengeance. Waves from the savage onslaught she’d caused pounded, beat, sliced, and threw her body around like a shell caught in its snare.

She had done this. Her beloved sister … was dead. All from one stupid, reckless swipe of her hand.

When the river spat Mariana’s body out into the sea, she didn’t transform her legs into her tail.

She didn’t call for help. She floated, staring lifelessly up as the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness swallowed the world.

The deeper she sank, the more she begged the Goddess to let her forget.

Just one last mercy, that was all she asked for.

The mercy to forget that she had failed .

When her body landed gently atop a bed of coral, thousands of fish burst from hidden crevices, fleeing her invasion.

She jolted and blinked to clear the haze.

Beams of moonlight high above illuminated the rolling waves, making them glow and glitter from below.

Blobs of darkness trimmed with light caught her eye.

She blinked again, willing the floating blobs to focus.

Her eyes went wide, her heart coming to a halt.

They were bodies.

Aurora.

Within seconds, she transformed, her tail whipping for the surface. Her head burst through the water. Wiping her eyes, she grabbed the nearest body. Turning the head toward her, she saw one of Halia’s guards staring back at her with dead eyes. She said a silent prayer and released the body.

“Aurora?” she shouted over the roaring waves and wiped her eyes.

The stars glinted from the sky as she shouted her name at them, but no reply came.

She let out a whimper, imagining herself falling deeper and deeper into her own nightmare.

She had to find her, unable to bear the thought of losing someone else she loved.

The truth spurred her forward, and she grabbed the next nearest body.

Face after face, and none of them was the one she begged to see. Finally, floating near the beach, caught in a wave, she found her.

“Rora!”

Her eyes were closed, her skin chilled, and her body limp. “ No, no, no .”

Quickly, she pulled her sister toward the shore and willed the waves to wash them up the sandbank. The water retreated, and Mariana put her fingers to her sister’s throat. Steady heartbeats.

“Rora, wake up!” she shouted, shaking her sister’s shoulders until her eyes finally opened.

Aurora groaned, clutching her head. “Did I drown?”

Mariana wanted to laugh at the ridiculous question, but the weight of all that had just happened pushed it away.

“That’s a little impossible, don’t you think?”

Dropping her hands, Aurora stared up at the night sky. “Anything seems possible these days. Like those powers of yours.” Her eyes slid over to Mariana.

Grief tightened her face. She wanted to cry, but felt like she had no energy left to shed a single tear.

“She’s dead, Rora,” Mariana confessed, staring at her hands. “Because of me.”

Aurora gently took one of Mariana’s hands in her own and squeezed it. She sat up with a wince, then regarded her sister carefully. “Listen to me. Whatever happened was not your fault—”

“Yes, it was,” she admitted in a deadly whisper.

Tears leaked from the corners of her closed eyes.

“Halia attacked and I—” She released a ragged breath.

“Astra was crushed under the debris from the dam breaking. There was nothing I could do—” Her voice cracked, and she began to sob.

It felt like an old wound had been ripped open.

Mariana had just gotten her sister back when she thought she was dead, and now …

It wasn’t fair. All she wanted was her sister. To hold Astra and grip her close, wrap her arms around her, and never let go. She missed her sister so terribly that the thought of never seeing her again … Her body shook, racking sobs tearing her chest apart.

Aurora pulled Mariana close, directing her head into the crook of Aurora’s neck.

It was a motherly touch, one so familiar to her. Celeste used to hold her like this when she had been a youngling, after her mother said something vile and cruel to her, when the cursed would tease her, or when she was simply upset over nothing at all. She missed her.

Mariana’s crying slowed, her enervated body still clutching Aurora tight, refusing to believe she’d ever lose her too.

“I thought …” Mariana sniffed. “I thought the amulet could stop whatever was happening to her, but Seraphina said—” The words died on her tongue.

“What?” Aurora asked gently, stroking Mariana’s knotted hair. “What did she say?”

Mariana swallowed, throat tight. “She said the amulet wasn’t meant to bring back life or save it. Astra was already dying. Someone attacked her to the point—” She choked on her words.

“That she couldn’t be saved,” Aurora finished for her.

Mariana shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

“There’s only one thing left we can do.” Aurora pulled back, and Mariana lifted her gaze into her sister’s raw, heartbroken face. “Let us pray for her safe journey to peace,” Aurora suggested softly and gripped Mariana’s hands. They closed their eyes and silently prayed to Amphitrite.

Mariana clenched her teeth tight to keep from sobbing again, but the tears still ran down her heated cheeks .

With every moment that passed, every word she whispered under her breath, she could feel Astra’s soul lifting, listening to their prayers.

“Astra,” she breathed. Then, what felt like a cold kiss was placed on her forehead. Goodbye , it silently whispered.

When Mariana could breathe again, she opened her eyes the same moment Aurora did. She squeezed her hands again.

“We have to be careful how we tell Luna. With how she was behaving when I left … I just don’t think we can predict what she might do when she finds out.”

“Okay,” Mariana whispered.

“At least we have the am—” Aurora’s eyes went wide as she glanced down at Mariana’s chest.

“What?” She glanced down too. It was gone. The amulet was gone.

Her heart tripped, frantically skipping as she looked around the sand.

“Where is it?” she shouted frantically.

“I have a feeling I know where it is …” Aurora muttered, looking out at the darkened sea.

Mariana’s eyes turned in that direction, and she cursed. Lights flickered on the midnight horizon.

“Halia has it,” Aurora said grimly. “If she didn’t, I doubt she’d be sailing away on her grand ship.”

Mariana held back a scream. She vaguely recalled the faint sensation of the amulet lifting right before …

“Godsdammit!” she shouted. “Astra begged us not to let her have it. She was the one person! ”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Aurora said, making Mariana turn her questioning gaze toward her sister.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Aurora said, gazing off into the distance. “But something in the way Astra said it … You have to keep it away from her, remember? It just—” Aurora shook her head. “I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like she was talking about Halia.”

“But Halia is the one who has it.”

Her sister stayed silent beside her, and Mariana began to realize they had to come up with a plan. And quickly.

“Without that amulet, will Cybele die?” Mariana asked quietly, lifting grim eyes to her sister’s.

“I’m not sure. The witch seemed adamant that the only way to save Cybele was with the amulet.”

Mariana tilted her head. “Something Seraphina told me was that the amulet’s purpose was to bring light where there was only darkness. Would fallout be considered darkness?”

“I don’t know that it’s just the fallout killing Cybele,” Aurora said carefully. “Did you see the way Astra’s veins looked? It was like squid ink was flowing through her body. It’s the same way Cybele’s veins looked before I left.”

Confusion swept over Mariana in a tidal wave of dread. “So … whoever attacked Astra might also be poisoning Cybele?”

Aurora bit her lip and nodded. “I think so. Someone in Salus is killing her.”

Mariana released a deep sigh. “We don’t know for sure, but whatever is plaguing Cybele, maybe the witch knows it can still be reversed with the amulet. ”

“If anyone truly knew and understood what the amulet is capable of, it would be the witch,” Aurora pointed out.

“She was the only scholar allowed inside Seraphina’s temple to record data before the Banishment.

Usually, only the priestesses were allowed inside, but they made an exception for her once we started using orbs to record all our history. ”

“So, the witch is probably right, then. Which means we have to get that amulet back from Halia.”

“We can swim to her ship, take it back from her,” Aurora suggested, but Mariana shook her head.

“It’s too risky. Too many guards on board could stop us before we reached it.

Besides, we have no idea where it is. And if Halia really wanted to, she could consider it an act of war.

” Mariana bit her lip, trying to think of a solution, but there was only one that she kept circling around, not wanting to accept it.

“Well, we have to come up with something.”

The two fell silent, ideas swirling between them in the midnight air, until finally, Mariana sighed, sagging.

“I know what to do,” she admitted heavily. She let her eyes close, wishing there was another way. But there wasn’t. She was the queen now, and queens made difficult choices when it meant saving their people. “She’ll want power in exchange for power.”

Opening her eyes, she studied Aurora, who reached out to hold her hand. It gave her the courage she needed to share her idea with her sister. Her voice was so thick with grief, she could hardly speak, but when she finally got it all out, Aurora’s mouth was pinched tight, her eyes on the sand.

“Think it will work? ”

Mariana glanced out at the sea as dawn began lighting up the sky. “We have no choice. It has to work.”