When we were done, the four Mer drifted in the aquamarine water, their beautiful faces serene in rest, the flowers and seaweed adorning their bodies rippling in the swell.
Something about the scene before me reminded me of the pyres Vikings used to build to send their kings off on burning ships. But these Mer had no pyres or boats beneath them, just the current that had been with them all their lives, which would now take them to the afterlife if I did this correctly.
An ominous weight settled over me. The operative word beingif.
“Say your goodbyes,” I said softly, looking at Aarna.
She buried her face in her hands as her long, dark hair trembled down her back. One final shuddering sob escaped her before she wiped her eyes and clasped Layla’s limp hand.
Glacies touched the small of Aarna’s back. “I will make them pay,” she whispered into the neck of her lover.
Pisceon and Finn stood back, arms folded, dark brows drawn. Pháos hovered beside them, clicking softly. Morgana and Edward stood together on the other side of the four floating Mer.
I exhaled a deep breath and stepped forward.
Morgana’s eyes flicked up to meet mine. “I-I would like to help.”
I nodded, and she moved to my side.
Calling on my powers had never been as difficult for me as it was for Morgana. She had described hers as a silver orb deep within her, but mine operated somewhat differently. It was a light that encompassed my being.
I drew a slow breath and then released it.
A sharp inhale from Glacies told me my power was spilling outward. I glided toward the three floating Mer, placing a palm on each of their foreheads, letting the light pour from my touch.
My Siren wings pressed against the skin between my shoulder blades, straining to break free beneath the rising seep of power. I held those awful, monstrous things back, gritting my teeth as pain tore through me.
Glancing at Morgana, I saw her radiating something silver that snaked through the waves. I smiled encouragingly at her to show that it was working—the power of peace.
Glacies began to sing, words I did not recognize, and then Aarna, Finn, and Pisceon joined in. The tune was soft and haunting, yet achingly beautiful, as all the Mer’s music was. It rose around us as I continued to channel my powers into each of the dead, silently asking Agápe to grantthem safe passage to the afterlife. It moved through us like a gust of wind would on land, but it was a wave down here. It swept around our bodies like a sigh, rushing over the floating Mer, twirling and dancing around them in a final, tender embrace. Then, with a sound like an exhale, the whirlpool stilled, leaving only glittering foam in its wake, humming with a song of freedom.
Aarna let out a strangled sob and threw herself into Glacies’s arms. Morgana withdrew her powers, and I did the same.
“Thank you, Agápe, for granting this passage.” I bowed my head, which seemed appropriate. A final searing line of pain burned the space between my shoulder blades.
No. I shook my head, and the sensation faded.
Thoughts of Porphura and Layla, their arms linked through mine, emerged in my memory, and a sob curled in my throat as I imagined what Porphura must be going through—if she was even alive.
Finn toyed with the dagger slung across his back, motioning us to follow him with a sweep of his tattooed arm. “Darkness is falling. Take a moment to gather yourselves, but we need to hurry if we’re to reach the tunnel.”
As we moved into the darkening ocean, I trailed behind the group, exhaling a stream of bubbles as my gills quivered. Some fragment of the turmoil that had been living within me had stilled.
49
Morgana
As we reached the shallower water of Abu Qir Bay off the Egyptian coast, the ocean around us deepened with the shades of night. Tumbled limestone blocks emerged from the seafloor, their shapes unmistakably carved by human hands. Rounded time-worn ship anchors, pocked with holes, told stories of a once-thriving port, and now and then, I glimpsed the eroded granite eyes of some forgotten pharaoh gazing up at me from beneath drifting sand.
“Here,” Finn said, holding his palm over a jumble of red granite rocks.
“But it’s just ruins.” I rested a hand on his tattooed forearm, brows furrowed as I scanned the tumbled blocks.
“This tunnel was built when there were still alliances between man and Mer.” Pisceon explained, then he glided forward, sweeping his webbed palm over the rubble, and whispering in the old language of the sea. “Per archaos hudos apergo.” The rocks glowed with the Runes of the Ocean and ancient hieroglyphics.
“The Mer needed a trading route from the Mediterranean to the RedSea. That’s why this underwater tunnel was built, but it is said to have fallen into darkness.” Pisceon gestured to the shimmering symbols, and my eyes widened as more began to bloom across the ruins.
Finn started chanting, and Pisceon joined him. As their haunting tune swept through the ocean, the tumbled stones began shifting and knitting themselves together to reveal a doorway between two tall rectangular pillars. The tops of the pillars were etched with more intricate hieroglyphics and Runes of the Ocean, flanked by paintings—a merman on one side, the sun god Ra on the other. Between them, a staircase descended into watery darkness. On either side, two granite sphinxes stood.
