I reached for her hand beneath the waves and squeezed it.
“I hope Alexandros and the others make it to Okeanós.” Worry lines creased Skye’s forehead as she swiped at her dripping lashes.
“They’re skilled fighters.” I gave her a reassuring smile, but my stomach churned as I recalled the fear etched across all the Mer’s faces last night.
“Come on.” Skye’s eyes lit up with relief, and she grasped my hand, pulling me back beneath the waves.
As the wondrous Kingdom of Thálassa stretched out beneath me, I thought of the wars I’d seen on the news, cities reduced to rubble. I hoped we’d find a way to spare these ancient halls from Manannán’s wrath.
Poseidon had stolen his son long ago, when Manannán was still a man. Then Kyano had taken Siana. At the heart of all this hatred... waslove.
A sliver of hope ignited in my chest. Maybe—just maybe—there was still a way to end this without bloodshed.
The rest of the group was waiting in the throne room. Glacies, Pisceon, Finn, and Aarna wore Mer armor with daggers strapped to their backs. Aarna had chosen gold, while the Neptunus Mer and Glacies were adorned in silver.
I strapped on my knife and put Poseidon’s box in Edward’s string sack, which was filled with the last of his rum.
“Guard it with your life,” I muttered as it clinked against the bottles.
Glacies and Aarna had slung satchels of provisions across their chests, and Pisceon gripped a coiled seaweed net. A pile of crossbows and quivers, which we could strap on alongside our blades, lay on the floor beside him, his cobalt tail flicking as he hovered above them.
“Here.” His muscles flexed as he tossed one to each of us.
He neglected to throw one to Edward, but Finn rolled his eyes and handed Edward the last bow.
“Per solane et pallipoia.” Glacies nodded to each of us, murmuring something in the ancient tongue of the sea—words I couldn’t understand, but somehow felt. Without another glance, she glided through the door, weapon poised and ready.
We moved through the Thálassian Kingdom in a procession. Glacies and Aarna led the way, with Pisceon, Finn, and his dolphin Pháos guarding the rear. Skye and I held the middle, carrying Edward between us, Pisceon snorting with laughter when we picked him up.
An arch of Corinthian pillars, speckled with algae, marked the edge of the vibrant Kingdom of Thálassa. After we passed them, we entered the Mediterranean wilderness. Seaweed still swayed, and rock formations bloomed with color, but the landscape beyond grew untamed, less tended. Ancient ruins and sunken shipwrecks lay scattered along our path, remnants of forgotten human wars and lost empires.
My stomach tightened as I turned to Finn and Pisceon. “Will we pass the Mediterranean’s Drowned ship?”
“The Icaruslies between Egypt and Turkey, but we will veer inland at Abu Qir Bay to avoid those waters.”
The sea seemed still and quiet, as if the ocean were holding its breath, waiting for the impending battle. We moved in equal silence, all on high alert, our eyes sweeping the surroundings for even the faintest glint of silver.
As we veered toward the Egyptian coast, the sea grew warmer, flecked with pale sand. The seabed blushed a deep desert red in places, and the water shifted to a luminous aquamarine.
We passed between bulbous masses of red rock,their surfaces veined with algae, until we emerged into an eerie glade where streaks of crimson sand fanned out like spilled pigment across the ocean floor.
“Stop.” Glacies threw up a hand, her blonde hair rippling in the swell.
There were Mer ahead, and they seemed motionless.Suspended.My whole body began to tremble. Silver. There was silver in the water.
A wave of dread washed over me. I couldn’t breathe; everything that had happened in the Atlantic Ocean came flooding back as the lifeless bodies before me grew clearer.
“They’re Thálassians,” Aarna cried, rushing forward.
Skye and I alighted, placing Edward beside us. Shadows from the crossbars pooled about us, and nausea rolled through me as I raised my eyes to the corpses strung up above us. Edward swayed as he took them in, his face paling to a sickly shade.
There were four of them hanging from the crossbars. Their arms stretched out eerily, tails wrapping mournfully around the bases of the driftwood poles. Two Thálassian guards—I recognized their lilac tails. Elias the herald, and...
“Layla!” Aarna’s gut-wrenching cry sliced through the water as she rushed to the fourth figure, wrapping her arms around her lifeless sister.
Pisceon tightened his fists into balls. “They must have been set upon last night.”
Pháos swam in circles, clicking angrily.
