Lysi and I backed away, ducking to avoid the flying weapons. Blood stained the snow from the falling humans and filled my nostrils. Screams and roars echoed off the ice.
Before anyone could notice, Lysi and I pulled ourselves behind the ice bank. We found a pile of man-made weapons—none of them iron—plus three backpacks and pairs of snowshoes. We retreated further away from the scuffle as fast as we could.
I was surprised at my agility above the surface. Though I’d seen mermaids move on land and experienced how shockingly fast they were, I’d somehow expected to feel slow and helpless.
I prepared for more mermen to pursue us and burst through the ice on all sides. But we kept going, scraping across the surface towards isolation.
“Those poor people,” I whispered.
If the Diomede people hadn’t known to use iron against merpeople, that meant they must have been new to this war. Like the Aleuts, they probably hadn’t had problems with merpeople until now. Adaro had been too busy focusing on Eriana Kwai to attack them.
Now, everyone was in danger.
Either Lysi didn’t hear me, or she didn’t know what to say, because she remained silent. I wondered if she was considering the merman’s words—“It’s them.” We were being hunted; it was no question.
The noise of the scuffle disappeared into the wind. Minutes passed, and then an hour. Nobody followed.
My skin tingled as it dried in the cold air, and every part of me craved returning to the saltwater. We’d been above the surface for so long.
After at least two more hours, the wind dried my skin so thoroughly that the tingle was replaced by a growing burn.
What happened if a mermaid stayed out of water for too long?
“Lysi,” I whispered. “My skin.”
“I know. Hold on a bit longer.” Her voice was high, broken.
“How much?”
“Less than a quarter-tide. I want to make sure we’re past the army.”
I groaned. What was that, three hours? I couldn’t make it that long. My arms were ready to fall off, the muscles searing, and my whole body felt like it had been roasting in the sun for days.
I decided I’d take a quick dip at the next break, regardless of what Lysi said.
But the next break didn’t come. The ice had become too thick.
The sun crawled across the sky. The landscape became a tundra. The bright white snow and icy mounds hurt my eyes. I longed for the dark, blue-green depths.
“Lysi?” My raspy voice barely made it past my tongue.
“Next break in the ice,” she whispered.
Panic clouded my thoughts. Would we die up here? Would my body shrivel up and be left to scavengers? What a lame way to go, after everything I’d been through.
“Can we break a hole?” I begged.
“No. We’ll attract attention if we start smashing the ice. Don’t worry, it shouldn’t be much longer.”
But her voice sounded weak, scratchy, like my skin felt.
“You’ve been saying that for ages.”
I’d reached a point at which I did not care about attracting attention when a dark shape moved below us. My heart jumped. This meant the ice had thinned enough to see through. It was a seal, and it was making a beeline. Was it heading for an air pocket?
I followed, digging my nails into the ice to pull myself faster.
Yes, there was something ahead, tall, thin, and spiralling. It poked through an opening in the ice. Then several more poked up beside it.
