Page 16 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

Arick nodded, as did Thomas, but he couldn’t help wondering what lay beyond the barred door that demanded such a warning.

The captain pounded thrice on the door. It was opened from the inside, and they were immediately buffeted by warm, salty air.

Continual thunder sounded in the distance.

Arick followed a ledge around to the left, taking in the large cavern.

Two guards stood just inside the door, their eyes locked on a large pool of water before them.

Captain Hughan motioned for them to step into the stairwell.

As they turned, Arick noticed they wore scarves over their mouths.

Before he could ask Hughan about it, a giggle from farther along caught his attention.

He turned to see a short, chubby man who bore an uncanny resemblance to a mouse. He giggled again, clapping his tiny hands together. He beckoned them to follow him as he hurried along the ledge. Every few steps, he’d pause to put his finger over his lips, a giggle escaping each time.

Torches were mounted on the walls, their orange glow reflecting off the water so Arick couldn’t tell how deep it was.

They rounded a corner, and the floor leveled out as a large cavern opened up.

All around were drawings and sketches tacked to the walls.

He was too far to discern their subject matter with any accuracy, but he wondered at them.

The far end of the cavern narrowed to a tunnel that led to the sea, and now he knew the thunder he’d been hearing was caused by the waves beating against the cliffs.

The glow of the late afternoon sun illuminated the columns of stone, casting them in shades of purples and pinks.

“Wha—” Thomas breathed, before Hughan clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Ah, ah,” whispered the mouse-like man, wagging his finger in the air. “They mustn’t hear you!”

Wide-eyed, Thomas nodded, and Hughan released him.

“They?” Arick mouthed, confused.

The man nodded. He grabbed Arick’s arm with a surprisingly strong grip and pulled him to the other side of the level floor. Giggling, he pointed out over the pool of water. Arick leaned forward, wincing at a pain in his chest.

Beneath the water, long pale shapes floated past. Arick stared at one, the features slowly becoming clearer. All at once, the merman broke the surface, his teeth bared as he hissed at Arick.

He stumbled back, his hand going to his aching chest.

Hughan was at his shoulder. “Are you well, my lord?” He spoke directly into Arick’s ear.

“I…yes.” He nodded, but he was far from well. He took a shuddering breath, winching as his lungs protested.

Thomas grabbed his arm, pointing. The younger man’s lips were pressed together to keep words from escaping, but his meaning was clear.

Another mer was shackled to the wall, half out of the water. His pale face held a sheen, and Arick recognized the shallow breaths. He walked closer to the water’s edge. Agony and defiance warred for dominance in the merman’s expression.

“Release him,” Arick hissed. The king must have had his reasons for holding the merfolk prisoner, but torture wasn’t necessary. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees.

“My lord, he tried to escape.” The captain broke his own rule of speaking aloud. The other merfolk that had been watching them dove beneath the water.

“Can he get out?” Arick waved at the cave opening. The shackled merman writhed against his bonds, his fin splashing feebly.

“No, my lord, but…”

“Release him,” Arick panted, dizziness washing over him. His lungs were being ripped from his body, and he felt as though he would be sick.

Beside him, Thomas’s voice cracked as he repeated the order. “Release the merman. He doesn’t need to be in chains!”

Thrashing in the water and strange shouts from the merfolk blocked out all other sound. Arick stumbled toward the door, clutching his side. Guards rushed past as the chaos and cries from the merfolk continued. He fell through the opening and collided with the stone wall. A groan escaped him.

Thomas appeared, his face lined with worry. “A-Arick…can…w-what?” He stumbled over the question.

Arick tossed his arm over Thomas’s shoulder before he fell face-first onto the stairs. “Sorcha,” he managed to say.

He didn’t know why, but everything in him said to return to her.

Each step was agony. His muscles screamed for the oxygen his lungs couldn’t provide.

Thomas was a rock, supporting him. Slowly, slowly, the waves of nausea subsided.

By the time they reached the passage to the barracks, the pain had dissipated enough for him to start thinking clearly.

But the pull in his chest said to keep going up.

Arick glared at the steep stairs, wondering if his legs would even carry him further. Thomas turned to the door.

“No. Up,” Arick told him. Speaking still required more breath than he had to spare.

“But that’s the lighthouse.” Thomas said in confusion.

“Yes.”

Thankfully, Thomas didn’t argue, and they continued their climb. Soon, the ache in his legs exceeded the tightness at his chest.

Light from the tower windows fell across their path, and he breathed in the ocean air, hope filling him. Soon he would see Sorcha, and all would be okay.

Thomas groaned. “Too many stairs.”

With an apology, Arick removed his arm from Thomas’s shoulders, finding he could walk on his own. The curving stairs were easier to traverse single file, and the dizziness faded completely when he moved to the outer wall.

Finally, Arick stepped out of the darkness and onto the edge of the mosaic. His sigh of relief froze in his throat.

“Sorcha!” he cried, stumbling to where she lay prone on the tile floor.

She stirred as he gathered her in his arms.

“Please be okay,” he murmured, brushing her hair away from her damp face. Her startling blue eyes blinked up at him.

“Arick,” she whispered.