Page 11 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

The small round cup held a fragrant brown liquid, and she found herself drawn to it. She sipped it carefully as she studied the rest of what was laid out before her. With not a small amount of trepidation and a growing sense of curiosity, she sampled each of the foods.

A bowl of stew made her stomach growl, but she could find no oyster shells to scoop it with.

A metal tool on the tray seemed designed for the same purpose, so she picked it up, pondering the need of the long bit attached.

She held it at the base of the stick portion, and scooped up a small amount of the stew.

The stick quickly grew to be a frustration, so she tried a few different ways of holding it.

Although the stew was warm and thick with different colored lumps, she found it bland.

When she’d eaten all she could, she set the tray aside and curled up by the foot of the bed.

The woman hadn’t come back for a while, and she didn’t know if she was allowed to leave the room. Could she even walk by herself?

She sat upright and lowered her feet to the floor again. She was not going to spend her entire life on land being carried about by the man. He’d been kind, but to be so constrained went against her very nature as a mer.

The floor felt smooth and hard beneath her stockinged feet. She wiggled her toes, still fascinated by the stubby little fingers that were attached to her new appendages. Holding onto the corner post of the bed, she stood.

No little daggers stabbed her soles. With a deep breath, she concentrated on lifting one foot. Both of them slid on the floor, and she clutched the post for balance.

Why did her feet insist on working at the same time? Humans operated them separately. She had to figure this out. She sat down on the bed and glared at her new legs. Holding on to one, she commanded her legs, her feet, her toes to move.

She laughed when she finally managed to wiggle the toes of one foot without the other joining in.

For the next while, she worked on making each of her feet and legs do something independently of the other.

When she could close her eyes and lift each leg and wiggle the foot without the other moving, she decided it was time to try walking again.

Holding the post tightly once more, she stood. To her delight, one foot lifted, and the other didn’t follow. Slowly, she lowered it back to the floor.

Tiny prickles of pain ran along the bottom of her foot. She snatched it up again. Why did everything about being a human hurt?

She couldn’t keep standing there on one foot. With renewed focus, she put her foot down, bracing against the sharp pain. Once her foot was solidly on the ground again, the pain faded.

Relieved, she tried with the other foot. Lifting it was easy, and she laughed at the way her foot vanished under her skirts. Setting it down again brought the same prickles of pain, but she pushed through it, and when she was standing on two feet again, the pain was gone.

After several rounds of walking back and forth along the end of the bed, she faced the far wall. A square in the middle of the wall let in light, and she wanted to see what lay beyond it. Perhaps it was an exit to the outside world.

A deep breath and a step forward. She held her arms out for balance, wobbling.

Another step. If only each step didn’t offer the sensation of brushing against hard coral, she might enjoy walking.

A third step brought her close to her destination.

Something filmy hung in front of the square, but she could see movement beyond it.

The strange pain in her chest returned, and she stumbled against the desk that was under the opening.

Outside, the man was walking away.

No, no, no. He can’t leave me here!

“Wait!” she cried, shoving the filmy material aside so she could follow him.

Her hand banged on something hard. He turned, a frown on his face only growing when he spotted her in the window. She smacked the opening again. What magic was this that refused to let her out? He rubbed his chest, undecided.

The square didn’t move.

Pushing herself upright, she looked to the part of the wall that the woman had opened when she’d come in and out of the room.

It was farther than she’d walked so far, but she couldn’t let the man leave.

The pain that had threatened to rip her apart the last time he’d walked away drove her to brave the distance.

She staggered to the spot in the wall, leaning against it as she gasped for breath. How did it open? Had she been trapped in here? What had the humans done?

As the pain and panic grew, she banged her hand on the wall.

“Let me out!” she cried.

Soft thuds hurried toward her, then the wall was being pushed open. The woman with the kind face stood there, her forehead creased. She saw Sorcha’s tears and immediately enveloped her in a hug. Despite being taller, Sorcha melted into the comforting embrace.

Her panic subsided, but her breaths still came in choked sobs. She motioned to the window. “Where is he going? I need to go with him.”

The woman shook her head and said something that ended with “Arick.”

It was a word she’d used before when the man was around. She latched onto it as a connection to the man.

“Yes, yes, Arick. Please.”

The woman released Sorcha and hurried away, leaving the opening ajar.

Not wanting to be left behind, she followed.

Her feet hurt, and she lurched as she walked, trying to find a way to put them down that didn’t cause pain.

As she neared the large room that was full of smells that made her mouth water, her breathing came more easily.

The man was standing by the opening to the outside, looking paler than he had earlier. The woman was scolding him.

Deciding to test a theory, Sorcha pulled herself upright and said, “Arick.”

The man looked at her, his hazel eyes wide. He said something in reply, words too fast for her to understand. He walked over to her and tapped his chest.

“Arick.” A small smile danced over his lips.

She took a deep breath and tried again. “Arick.”

His smile grew, and he gave a small cheer. He said more words, a question.

“Sorcha,” she replied, guessing what he wanted.

“Sershe?” He frowned, his tongue stumbling on the strange word.

She giggled, shaking her head. “Sorcha.”

He tried again, getting closer this time. When she nodded her approval, he laughed. He said more words, then turned to include the woman. “Elsbeth,” he said, placing his hand on the woman’s shoulder. The woman pointed at herself and repeated the word.

“El-bet.” The unfamiliar sounds were hard to make. She touched her hand to her chin and brought it forward in a gesture often used under the sea. Even knowing Elsbeth wouldn’t understand her, she wanted to express her gratitude. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Elsbeth’s brows raised, then she smiled, and replied in a gentle tone.

Arick shifted, then said something. Elsbeth shook her head. The two argued for a minute, their words flying too fast for her to understand anything. In the end, Arick raised his hands in defeat. He laughed at Elsbeth’s smug look, then bowed to Sorcha. He straightened and offered her his elbow.

She looked at it a moment, wondering whether this was some strange human tradition. He seemed to be waiting for something, so she turned her own elbow out and bumped it against his.

Elsbeth let out a peal of laughter. Arick’s ears turned pink. At prompting from Elsbeth, he reached for Sorcha’s hand, so she let him take it. He stepped closer and tucked her hand under his elbow.

Ah, so that’s what he wanted. She made a note to avoid elbow-bumping in the future — though perhaps it was a custom humans could take up. It seemed preferable to being this close to someone.

He tugged her forward, and she clutched his arm as the daggers shot up through her foot.

Elsbeth frowned, then gave Arick an order. He bent and swooped her into his arms with ease and carried her outside to the bench she’d sat on before. She’d been too distraught earlier to notice how strong he was.

“’tay,” he told her, holding his palms out flat.

He hurried around the corner of the building, and she braced herself for the sharp pain that wrapped around her lungs every time he walked away.

Her chest grew tight, and she focused on keeping her breathing steady.

As the minutes dragged on, the pain grew no worse, and she found she could bear it.

Outside of the building, the noises grew louder. She’d always missed the way the ocean muffled sounds when she surfaced, but here, there were just so many things to make noise. She pressed her hands over her ears, wishing she had shells to tie over her head.

While she waited, Elsbeth approached with two odd-looking items in her hands.

She showed Sorcha how to put them on her feet and lace them up.

At least she seemed to accept that Sorcha had no concept of human things, but she wondered how much the older woman knew.

Elsbeth went back inside, and Sorcha stared at the strange leather wraps around her feet, wondering if they’d help with the pain.

The tightness released.

Arick appeared around the corner, leading another of the funny animals with long legs and shaggy fur, a cart attached behind it.

She stood and took a tentative step forward.

To her surprise, the pain dulled slightly.

She shuffled closer. Arick hurried over to support her, but she pulled against his guidance.

“I want to touch it,” she told him, pointing at the round shaggy beast.

He laughed and brought her closer. He showed her where to pet it, with firm strokes along its muscular neck. The hair was rougher than she’d expected, a gold that reflected the light like sunbeams on the waves. The creature nuzzled her with its velvet-soft nose.

“Oh!” she couldn’t help exclaim. “What do you call it?” She gave Arick a questioning look.