Page 4 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

As he broke free of the water, he shook his head, sending streams in all directions.

With a shriek of joy, Thomas jumped off the platform and into the waves behind him. “Co-old,” he chattered when he reappeared. Above them, Cookie ran in circles, barking at their madness.

“Very,” Arick agreed. “Come on, let’s swim to warm up.”

They raced the length of the ship a few times, staying clear of the bow and stern lest the ship turn unexpectedly.

When they grew tired, they floated on their backs and let the sun warm their faces.

This was the life. If only being a royal meant he could spend his days on the water, swimming and racing boats.

He recalled the letters his brother, Daniel, had sent him, speaking of the endless meetings and countless social obligations he’d been forced to attend.

At least, that’s how Arick thought of them.

Daniel had spoken of them with enthusiasm, proving he had been the better brother to join the Toravik Council. If only —

“They hate me,” Thomas said, breaking his reverie.

Arick wasn’t surprised Thomas’s thoughts were also on the council. “Why do you say that?” The hurt in his cousin’s voice made him choose his words carefully.

Thomas slapped the water with his hand. “Look at how MacIsaac treats me! Either he acts like I am a child, or he ignores me!”

Arick rolled over in the water to watch Thomas’s reaction. He moved his arms and feet enough to stay afloat. “Do you want to be treated like a child or ignored?”

“No!”

“Then…maybe don’t let him?”

Thomas’s face creased with concentration. “Why did you say that?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Arick had never seen his cousin as “less than.” As children, they had spent much of their time together, and though he knew Thomas was different from other children, he was just Thomas.

Even after his father had become the ambassador to Edeland, Arick and his brother, Daniel, had spent their summers visiting the castle.

When they turned eighteen, Daniel had moved back to Iskarraig, and Arick had joined the Edelish Navy.

“You’re allowed to speak up. You’re the prince, and he should be diffident toward you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Thomas grumbled.

“I know. And I’m sorry they treat you like that.

” It was easy for him. People had been looking up to him physically ever since he’d passed six feet at age sixteen.

As part of his training to be captain, he had learned how to be commanding — though being commanding and being listened to were two very different things, he had quickly discovered.

“Just remember, you have just as much right to be heard as the next person. If you act like you belong, they’ll not be able to ignore you. ”

“I’ll try.”

“Good. But for now, I’m freezing. Race you back to the ladder!” He dove under the water, encouraging Thomas to chase after him. He took the outside, planning on letting Thomas win.

When Arick surfaced for air, he saw Thomas several strokes ahead of him. He’d been too slow, and Thomas had been faster than expected. With renewed purpose, Arick struck out again. Even at his fastest speed, however, he only managed to catch up after Thomas had taken hold of the ladder.

Laughing, the two climbed back to the platform, where an ecstatic Cookie danced circles around them as they dried off. Exhausted, they stretched out to let the sun warm them up, letting their feet hang off the edge.

Above them, someone tuned a fiddle and began playing. Thomas hummed along to the traditional song. Arick pushed himself upright, knowing what was coming. He leaned back on his hands, his face tilted toward the sun.

The next tune was one of his favorites, and Thomas could never hear it without begging him to sing. Arick cleared his throat and sang the haunting lyrics of a love lost and a land that separated them. Thomas joined on the chorus, his high tenor voice providing a perfect counterpart.

As he sang, his gaze traveled over the water as though searching for the lost love of the song.

Two dots bobbed along with the waves, growing ever closer.

They looked like the heads of two women, one with red hair, the other black.

But the water out here was far too deep for ladies to risk, and no one would be swimming by the rocks like that.

Mermaids.

He immediately shook the idea free. The music — that must have been the reason behind such fanciful thoughts. They were seals, nothing more.

But why did the thought leave him disappointed?

W hen the sisters had exhausted themselves, they found a rock and leaned against it, letting the sun and wind dry their hair.

With only their heads and shoulders out of the water, they could pass for humans, albeit oddly dressed humans, arrayed in garments of scales that covered most of their bodies and faded to skin just below their collar bones.

Humans seemed to wrap themselves in layers of fabric, something Sorcha was glad the merfolk didn’t need to be concerned about.

The scales provided them with what modesty and warmth they needed.

“I wish Father had let me join the Watchers last night,” Ciara commented. “I’ve been training for ages.”

“The storms started early, and you’ve not had your graduation ceremony yet.”

“I know, but it’s been ages since a mermaid has been a Watcher. With the increase in storms, there’s a greater chance for a human female to be on the ship.”

Sorcha pushed her red hair out of her face. Out of the water, curls started to form as it dried, tickling her cheeks. “Why do you think the starfish can’t block the female’s voices?”

Ciara shrugged, watching a small crab dance its way across the rock.

“They’re higher pitched. But that doesn’t explain why mermaids are less susceptible to their voices.

” She turned to look at the human city in the distance, with its massive gray castle high above them on the cliffs.

“I’d love the chance to learn more about them. ”

Sorcha pushed her off the rocks. “Don’t say that! You get close, and you know what could happen!”

“I’d cover my ears. Besides, once the human stops talking, the spell releases.” Ciara rolled over and leaned back against her perch.

“Not before you are too far up the sand to get back.” She’d seen fish die that way — flopping and bouncing as much as they could, until they exhausted themselves and lay twitching on the shore, the vibrant colors of their scales fading.

“Better than being bound to a human,” Ciara said, bitterness in her voice.

A seagull floated by, bobbing among the waves.

“What do you think happens to bound ones?” Sorcha asked, following the change in topic.

Ciara shrugged. “They turn into humans and live the rest of their lives on land.”

“There has to be more to it than that. Or else merfolk would do it all the time. Aunt Maeve said she once wanted to be human, but it wasn’t worth the cost.”

“Aunt Maeve wanted to do everything. Maybe I’ll rescue a human and we can find out what happens,” Ciara mused.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?” A teasing gleam appeared in her eye. “Let’s go find a human and see!” She sank beneath the waves and zipped away, her purple-blue fins lifting above the water to splash Sorcha.

“Ach!” Sorcha cried in protest. She pushed off from the rocks to swim below the surface.

Immediately, her breathing came easier, and the drowsiness she had felt faded.

While they were above the surface of the water, merfolk were still able to gain the oxygen they needed, but it was harder.

And when they were completely on land, it was almost impossible. “Where are you going?”

Ciara didn’t answer as she pulled farther away.

Sorcha concentrated on catching her, but Ciara was stronger from her months of training and kept just out of reach.

As they swam, they passed the eddy that led back to the grotto, heading for the harbor.

For a few minutes, a dolphin joined their race, darting in and out between them.

Then, the rock formations that guarded the entrance for ships flashed by.

Ciara turned over, swimming backward to taunt Sorcha. “Can’t you keep up, then?”

Sorcha looked up, her eyes widening in fear at the sight of the wooden wall that loomed behind her sister. “Ciara!”

Ciara spun around, her shoulder bouncing off the ship. Sorcha grabbed her and pulled her away before she could be caught in the wake.

“Stop, I’m fine.” Ciara’s voice was shaky, but she hid it behind a toss of her hair.

Sorcha clamped her hands over her ears. If there was a ship, there were humans. “Let’s go back.”

“No, I want to see what they’re doing. No ship passed us outside the harbor, but this one isn’t leaving…it’s heading back in.”

Sorcha let her attention return to the ship, this time noting the shape of the hull. It was wide and long, but not deep like many of the others that passed over the grotto.

“We can watch from the rocks,” she offered.

They swam back to the large rocks at the entrance and hid among them. Sorcha kept her hands clamped over her ears, and ducked beneath the water when two men appeared near the back of the boat to release the anchor. She winced at the splash, knowing the fish and sea life would be scattering in fear.

The sailors vanished, then reappeared on a small platform one deck lower.

One was several hand-lengths taller than the other, but their blond hair was the same.

They stripped off their shirts, then the taller one leapt into the water with a whooping shout.

The other followed, shrieking as he fell through the air.

On the ship, a fluffy brown and white creature whined and yipped after them.

Mesmerized, Sorcha watched the humans play in the water. She’d never seen humans so close, nor grown ones splash about like that. Occasionally, their voices reached her, but they were having too much fun for conversation. Beside her, Ciara watched with an intense look on her face.

“I wonder what it would be like on land,” Ciara mused.

Sorcha shook her head. “Not me. Living on land would be so one dimensional. The water holds freedom.”

“Yet water is constrained by land.”

Sorcha thought about that. In a way, yes, it was. The land rose from the water, resisting it. But the ocean went on forever.

After some time, the humans climbed up the side of the ship. The small creature spun in excited circles and beat its fluffy tail against the men.

“It’s getting late,” Sorcha said. They’d been gone most of the morning.

“Not yet,” Ciara whispered. “I want to see what they’re doing.”

But it appeared that they weren’t doing much. The pair sat on the small deck, their legs over the edge as they talked. Another sailor appeared above them, holding a flat, oval box with a long handle in one hand and a stick in the other. Sorcha squinted, but she couldn’t see what they were for.

“Is that a weapon?”

“Don’t be silly. What would they need weapons for?”

“Then what is it?”

Before Ciara could pretend to know its purpose, the man raised the box to his shoulder and put the stick to it.

Music filled the air, the notes tripping over each other like a school of clownfish darting through the coral.

Sorcha gasped in delight, letting her hands fall from her ears so she could better hear.

The vibrant sound pulled her from her hiding spot, and she swam closer, only her head above the water.

She could sense Ciara beside her, but she willed her sister to not say anything to interrupt the music.

The song changed to one full of melancholy that made her chest ache. A voice lifted, a rich baritone that blended perfectly with the music. Longing filled her, and with all her heart, she wished to know the meaning of the words sung by the tall blond sailor.

Laughter pulled her back to herself as hands clamped over her ears.

“Look at you, Miss Never-Want-to-Be-near-a-Human.” Ciara smirked.

Sorcha gasped to realize how close she’d gotten to the ship. The tall man was staring in their direction, the song fading from his lips.

With a cry of fear, Sorcha dove beneath the waves, losing herself among the rocky formations on the harbor floor.