Page 6 of Whispers of the Starlit Sea (Avalore Chronicles #1)

One of his starfish was gone, and the other clung to his neck rather than the side of his head. She reached for it, but he let go of his hold on the coral long enough to bat her hand away. He shrank back into the wall. She tapped the side of her own neck, but he just shook his head violently.

Leaning close, she yelled into his ear. “The starfish is on your gill — that’s why you can’t breathe.”

He stared at her, wide-eyed. Taking that as an invitation, she reached for the starfish and gently coaxed it free. He shoved her arm again, but not before she had lifted the starfish partly away from his gills.

As oxygen reached his brain, he understood and ripped the starfish off, flinging it across the room. That was one that wouldn’t be interested in helping again.

The merman looked better now that he could breathe, but he still held tightly to the coral wall.

“Don’t let them take me,” he whimpered as thunder rolled in the distance.

“Who?”

“The humans! I heard their voices!”

She reached to pat his shoulder, then remembered the vial in her hand. Was it capable of canceling the siren spell? Or was it just a tincture to calm him down?

Either would work, if she could convince him to take it. She held it out to him, but he shook his head, refusing to let go.

“This will help?” She swallowed hard. She hadn’t meant to make it a question.

He squinted at her doubt. “Will it?”

“Of course.” She pulled the stopper out and leaned over to give it to him. If she had to pour it down his throat, she would.

He jerked again, his head knocking into her hand.

The vial flew out of her grasp, the green liquid spilling into the water. It bounced against the coral and smashed.

“That’s how you deliver medicine around here?” A sarcastic voice asked.

Sorcha looked up to see Rona in the doorway, her arms folded. Some of the liquid bubbled against the yellow stone in her bracer.

“Sorry,” Sorcha muttered, ducking to pick up the glass shards.

“I came to see why you aren’t singing. Mother was worried.” She moved just out of the way enough so Sorcha wouldn’t bump into her, but didn’t offer to help.

“Been a little busy here. Ouch!” Sorcha cried as the glass cut her finger.

“Ach, can’t you do anything right?” Rona sneered.

Tears filled Sorcha’s eyes as she spun away. Why did she think she could help? Everything she did was wrong.

Pushing past Rona, she fled the infirmary. She wanted the solitude of her cavern, but a group of merfolk gathered in that section of the grotto. She turned and headed for the entrance, needing to get away.

Away from her mistakes, away from Rona’s judgment, away from the countless expectations.

A sob threatened to choke her as she swam through the opening. Without paying attention to where she was going, she sped away. The knot holding her sea shells on her head came loose, and she let them fall away. Below her, the bioluminescents flashed in response to the lightning above.

“G o tell His Majesty there’s a storm coming,” Arick ordered, his training as an officer taking over any sensibilities of rank on land as the clouds continued to block out the sky.

MacIsaac paled. “Where are you going?”

“To find the captain. Go, but quietly. No sense in causing undue concern.”

MacIsaac nodded, then hurried off. Arick headed to the bridge, thankful he didn’t have to go far. A familiar head of ruddy curls caught his eye. He leaned over the rail.

“Thomas! What are you doing hiding back there?”

Thomas looked up from his hiding spot behind the sweeping staircase. “I don’t want to dance anymore.”

“You love dancing.”

“Not when everyone keeps asking me about you,” he mumbled.

Oh. “That’s just because I’m new. Come on, I’m heading to the bridge anyway.” If there was a storm coming, he wanted Thomas nearby, his need to protect the prince rooted in the days when young Thomas couldn’t speak.

As they started up the stairs again, lightning flickered in the distance.

In the short time it took them to reach the bridge, the ship was already rocking from the increased waves. Cries of alarm came from the main deck, and the music cut off abruptly as the ensemble packed up their instruments. Overhead, thunder rumbled.

“The king and queen are safe in the royal cabin,” Captain Blair informed them. “You should join them.”

Arick shook his head. “I’d rather stay up here, if that’s alright with you, sir.”

The captain nodded with a jerk, his focus on the sails as men raced to draw them in. Behind them came a shout.

Two men were winching in the secondary anchor that had been used to keep the ship steady for the party.

But the wind had already caused the ship to shift, and the anchor was stuck.

Arick raced over to lend his hand to the windlass.

Thomas was right beside him. The lantern light glowed orange, but even so, Thomas looked a little green.

“We’ll be alright,” Arick told him, surprised that he had to shout to be heard. “We’re so close to shore.”

Thomas nodded.

With the four of them straining, the anchor finally broke free of its hold on the ocean floor. Without it, the ship whipped around in the wind, sending people sprawling. Arick hauled Thomas to his feet, and they returned to stand near Blair.

“The wind is coming from the east. Near impossible to reach the royal docks in this, but we should make it to the far side of the harbor.” The captain looked to Thomas for permission.

Thomas swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Arick. He gave him a slight nod. The captain knew what he was doing.

Thomas wet his lips. “Get people back safely,” he shouted over the wind.

The skies opened up, drenching them all in seconds. Thomas clung to the railing where he had stood earlier, cheering.

“Take him below,” Blair ordered, his voice nearly lost in the storm.

Arick nodded, staggering as he crossed the few feet to reach Thomas. Even with his seasoned sea legs, staying upright was a challenge as the ship bucked beneath them.

Lighting tore across the sky, lasting long seconds. A cry came from the foremast. Fire broke out, and two sailors fled from it, shimmying down the mast as fast as they could.

The wind shifted again. As the ship swung wildly, its masts groaned under the strain. A deafening crack reverberated through the air, sending a chilling shiver down Arick’s spine.

Massive waves pummeled the ship. With a scream, one of the sailors lost his grip on the ropes and vanished overboard. Arick kept one arm firmly around Thomas, guiding him to the stairs.

With a blinding crash, lightning struck the mast again.

Already cracked, the mast could no longer withstand the ferocity of the storm.

It snapped, sending giant splinters and rigging through the air, carried by the gale-force winds.

The mast crashed to the deck, splitting open the once pristinely polished dance floor.

The ship shuddered under the impact and tilted toward the water.

Screams filled the air as the party-goers fell through the broken railing into the seas below.

Arick closed his eyes as nausea swept through him. He searched the horizon for the shore, but darkness met his gaze. The harbor wasn’t that large — lights from the city had been visible all around them only moments before.

Waves lashed the ship from all sides. Thomas stumbled beside him, and the two fell. They slid down the stairs, the momentum ripping them apart.

Arick lay on the deck, dazed. Above his head, the crest of a wave threatened to collapse.

Then the ship slammed back down, and the world righted itself.

“ Arick!” Thomas screamed.

Fighting to sit upright, Arick searched for his cousin. His white shirt stood out against the black a barrel-length away, and Arick leaped for him.

The ship lurched again, sending them sprawling toward the railing.

Something loud and furry tore past Arick. Barking madly, Cookie reached Thomas’s side. He bit into Thomas’s shirt, tugging.

A wave crashed over them, blinding Arick. He gasped for breath and wiped water from his eyes.

“Thomas!” he yelled. The deck was empty.

Arick shoved himself to his feet and ran across the deck. He clung to the railing as he searched the churning seas for signs of Thomas.

A bark and a flash of white.

He grabbed one of the mooring lines that had been coiled nicely on the deck. Without another thought, Arick flung himself over the rail and into the water below.

“H old up! Where are you going?” Ciara grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Away!” Sorcha sobbed.

Ciara wrapped her in a hug. A rubbery nose bumped against her side as Ciara’s dolphin, Cuan, offered her comfort as well. Distant rumblings made her shudder.

“What happened?”

“I just do everything wrong, and Rona…” She rubbed the cut on her finger, the bleeding already stopped. The sting of her sister’s words, though, lingered.

“Rona needs to leave things well enough alone.” Ciara’s voice was hard.

Sorcha glanced around, noticing for the first time how far away from the grotto they were. “What are you doing out here?”

Ciara wouldn’t look her in the eye. “Cuan wanted to join his mates, and I couldn’t disappoint him.”

Sorcha gaped at her sister. “You’re going to the surface? In a storm?”

Ciara’s jaw tightened. “Yes. I can help. Come with me. There are a lot of humans in trouble up there.”

“All the more reason not to go!”

“They’re too busy trying not to drown to worry about ensnaring a mer! Come on!” She grabbed Sorcha’s hand and took hold of Cuan’s fin. He took off, pulling them along as if they weighed nothing, and emitted happy little noises all the way.

They broke the surface just inside the harbor rocks. The waves immediately ripped Sorcha from her sister. She cried out, her voice lost in the thunder that rolled overhead.

Lighting cut across the sky.

The fancy ship she’d seen the other day rocked in the middle of the harbor, its forward mast nothing but splinters. Humans clung to whatever piece of the ship they could, but with each wave, more of them were swept away.

Sorcha covered her ears — not just to protect from the siren call of the human voices but from the deafening roar of the wind and waves. She stared in horror. All around the ship, humans cried out in fear. She could see dolphins darting in and out, nudging people onto pieces of flotsam.

Ciara was in there somewhere, helping, she was sure. As were Father and the Watchers. They would do whatever it took to save the lives of those who belonged on the land.

Everything within her told her to leave, to go back to the safety of the grotto; that she couldn’t help here.

That if she were useless doing the one thing she’d been trained to do, she’d be even worse here.

But something held her in place, glued to the surface, even as the waves flung her about.

She gave up trying to cover her ears, needing her arms to stay upright.

The human siren calls were drowned out by the winds and waves anyway.

Surely the Watchers didn’t work from the surface. How could they see anything?

She rode a wave to its crest, then plummeted to the trough of the next. A board spun past, scraping her side. In the darkness, she could see nothing, blinded by the wind and rain.

A voice reached her above the tumult of the storm. She cast about, searching for it.

There, floating on a piece of the ship, clung a human and a smaller animal.

The waves drove him toward her, but he seemed to be pointing in the direction he had come.

She lost sight of him as the waves crashed over them both.

When she next saw him, he was much closer, but angling away from her.

With a gasp, she recognized him as the shorter of the two men she had watched singing.

The small creature barked, a sharp sound that cut through the booming cacophony.

A sleek gray body showed above the water for a second as a dolphin drove him toward the shore. Even knowing he would be okay, the man continued to point back to the center of the harbor.

Sorcha let the next wave pull her high, searching for what the man was so concerned about.

Lightning flashed, blinding her, but not before she spotted a human struggling to hold onto a small board, a piece of white fabric floating near him. She broke free of the hold the storm had on her and dove beneath the waves, deep enough to be able to see again.

None of the Watchers were nearby. She could just make out a cluster of vague shapes in the distance. Too far to be of help.

She swallowed hard, swimming toward the spot she had last seen the human.

But what good would that do? She had no starfish to stop him from entrapping her in his siren voice. No dolphin to send to his aid. No training for how to help a human without cursing herself.

As she drew near, she rose to the surface. He was gone. The board and white fabric were there, but the human was gone.

She dove again, powering through the tempestuous waters to reach the spot. She cast about, searching for any sign of the man until she spotted him below her. He wasn’t struggling anymore. He drifted with the water, limp, as the ocean drew him to the floor.

Sorcha hesitated for only a moment. Rescuing a human might mean she would be bound to him for life. But that didn’t mean she could let him die.