Page 28 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

“No need to wait.” Sorcha forced cheer into her voice. She understood why Sìne was concerned. She wished Arick were here to carry him, but the sailor was busy unchaining the first of the mer on the other side of the lagoon. With a deep breath, she leaned down. “Come on, it’s not far.”

With some effort, the two mer were out of the water. Sìne joined the squirming line headed for the gate. Sorcha lifted the merman under his arms and dragged him as best she could. “I’m sorry, sir. This is the only way.”

He grunted, doing his best to help.

The rocks were slick from the water the mer left behind, and she was just far enough from Arick that the magic made taking a deep breath difficult. Daggers pierced her feet with every step, but she didn’t let on. It was nothing compared to being imprisoned here.

Over the splashing and calls from the mer as they made their way through the gate, the lilting dirge rose again, taken up by those already in the tunnel. She shuddered. Why would they choose that song to sing on their way to freedom?

Her feet slipped on the rocks, and she fell against the tunnel entrance.

“I can manage from here,” the older man said. “Thank you.”

With a few quick wriggles, he joined Sìne in the flooded tunnel. Sorcha sagged against the square stones while more mer made their way past her.

One voice continued to ring out over the others, the deep tones echoing through the tunnel, from someone she was sure hadn’t been with the others in the pool. Her grip tightened on the stones as she recognized the voice.

“Father,” she whispered in horror.

H er gasp was nothing more than a whisper, but it snapped Arick’s attention from across the cavern. Sorcha leaned against the iron gate, her skin paler than usual, her pink lips falling open as she clutched her chest.

A final twist of the key, and the last manacle opened, allowing the merman to slide into the water.

Arick was moving before the splash hit the rocks he’d been perched on.

He crossed the space separating them, checking for the tightness around his own chest. But it never came.

Whatever the cause of her reaction, it wasn’t the magical bond.

A song with the power and mystery of the sea echoed from the tunnel.

“What is it?” He signed with one hand as he clasped Sorcha’s elbow.

“Father.” The word was an explanation, a wish, and a cry all in one. Arick barely noticed that the word was so similar to his own language. He would have understood even if it was vastly different. The ache of family carried through.

“The singing?”

She nodded, tears obscuring her sapphire eyes.

Arick motioned for Sorcha to stay with the merfolk as he drew his sword and moved toward the voice.

He wasn’t fully sure why he had chosen to wear it tonight; hurting his uncle’s guards wasn’t something he wanted to do, nor did he wish to threaten the merfolk.

But sometimes a pointy object was the best way to get the message across.

And he admitted to appreciating the confidence the familiar grip gave him as he held it in his hand.

He kept his footsteps light as he neared the entrance to the second cave.

The booming of the sea outside the cave kept time with his thundering heart.

He sloshed across the flooded tunnel, staying clear of the escaping merfolk.

Many had taken up the song, but one voice continued louder than the others.

The echoes in the cave bent around him, carrying the weight of a thousand years of torment. The voice cracked slightly at its highest pitch, as though it were not only singing but fighting — fighting against something unseen, something suffocating.

Arick repressed a shudder as he pressed against the square rocks. Light spilled from the inner cave, an eerie blue-green glow. Steadying his breath, he rounded the corner.

In the center of the cave, his fin submerged in what was barely a puddle, the largest merman Arick had ever seen lay chained. His broad chest rose and fell with each breath. The weathered face, framed with long gray hair, was lined with agony, yet he sang with all his might.

Two guards lay slumped against the far wall. They seemed unharmed, albeit being asleep on duty meant something was wrong. In the corner lay the odd little man, even more mouse-like in sleep with his knees tucked up to his chest.

A wave of drowsiness washed over Arick, and his jaw stretched with a yawn.

Magic.

He sheathed his sword and covered his ears. He hurried forward, pulling the manacle keys from his pocket as he struggled to keep at least one ear covered. The merman’s eyes flashed open as Arick reached for the lock. Glaring, the merman sang even louder. Arick swayed as his eyes grew heavy.

No. He mustn’t sleep…

“Sorcha!” he shouted.

Whether he were calling her for help or trying to tell the merman he knew her, he wasn’t sure. He just knew he had to say something.

The mer stopped his song, eying Arick in surprise. Another yawn split his jaw as he repeated her name. He forced his sluggish arms to lift the key and unlock the manacle holding one of the mer’s wrists to the wall.

He let his eyes drift closed as the mer’s hand fell.

Then fingers were wrapping around his throat. His feet scrambled for purchase on the damp floor as he fought against the iron grip.

“Father, no!”

Never had her musical voice brought such relief. The merman released Arick, and Arick fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

He expected her to run to her father, but her cool hand pressed against his cheek as her voice lifted in a question. He met her gaze, his smile a reflex to assuage the worry on her face, reflected in the flickering of the torch she held in her other hand.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, keeping his voice low. The drowsiness fell away as he pushed himself upright. She stepped back from him, and her touch left a quiet burn in its wake.

Sorcha limped to her father’s side while Arick circled to unlock the other manacle. With her here, he did not expect a reprise of the attack.

The merman sagged back against the floor as his second arm was released, his face even more haggard than before.

Sorcha broke off speaking to him to sign to Arick. “My father” — she paused to spell out his name — “Alasdair. He’s unwell. We must get him to the water.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. The merman was as broad of shoulder as Arick himself, with a tail several feet longer.

Arick knelt beside him and helped him into a sitting position.

He then turned his back and drew the mer’s arms over his shoulders.

With Sorcha helping him balance, he pushed to his feet.

Arick took a staggering step toward the opening of the cave.

The flooded tunnel wasn’t far, but if he fell now, he wouldn’t have the strength to lift himself and Alasdair.

The mer’s long indigo tail dragged across the rough floor, but he made no complaints.

Behind them, Sorcha began to sing, her song full of life and hope, so different from the lament the others had been singing.

Arick pressed on, his muscles not aching as much and the lingering fire in his throat fading.

He risked glancing over his shoulder at her. Was she… healing him?

She gave him a quirk of a smile in reply, pausing to lean her hand against the cave wall. “I’m okay,” she signed in reply to his look of worry. “Breathing is different.”

He nodded and continued on. If she was lending him her strength in any form, he wanted to complete his task quickly to not draw on her too long.

He reached the edge of the flooded tunnel and knelt carefully. Lowering his burden into the water, he and Sorcha helped the older mer fully submerge. He saw the moment when oxygen once again filled Alasdair’s lungs, the grayness leaving him and his movement becoming stronger.

“He is well,” Sorcha signed after a brief exchange with her father. Arick’s shoulders sagged in relief, but he’d already known from the smile that lit her face.

A rumble of thunder drew his attention to the opening of the tunnel, where several mer were milling around. They hurried forward, Sorcha calling out.

He spotted the problem before she could relay their answers.

The tide was receding, and with the storm rising, the water wasn’t high enough for them to swim out. He saw no sign of the three he had unchained, and his suspicions were confirmed when the other merfolk pushed an elderly merman ahead. They were ensuring the ill and weak ones were rescued first.

He stepped down into the creek, the water immediately sloshing into his boots.

Arick grabbed the older mer and pulled him along.

His feet stumbled on the rocks, but he kept going, until the water reached his waist and the merman twisted free.

The mer caught his eye and clasped his fist over his heart, then he was gone beneath the waves.

Arick hurried back over the rocks as quickly as he could, stopping to lift a younger mermaid over the shallowest part. She stared at him in fear the whole time, then slithered away as quickly as she could once he released her.

The final three mer were arguing, but there wasn’t time.

He looked to Sorcha, who pointed to the woman.

Arick caught her eye before lifting her under her shoulders, doing his best to keep as much of her in the water as he could.

The other merman followed, propelling himself by his arms. Once past the rise, Arick set the woman down, then hurried back to get Sorcha’s father.

She was singing again, her voice wrapping around him, and he wondered again about the truth that humans had the voices that enchanted merfolk. When she sang, every part of him longed to draw near to her.

She sat at the edge of the tunnel, her feet in the water. Her father held her hand, and the look of longing on her face made Arick pause.

As much as he yearned for her to stay with him, she deserved to go home. To be with her people.