Shadeau. Even here, even now, I couldn’t outrun it.
The scarred man’s grin widened. “Saints above. We didn’t just net a mermaid,” His gaze dragged over me, greedy and sharp. “We caught a bounty.”
My chest seized. My mark flared weakly, silver light stuttering across my vision. I tried to reach for it—anything—but the magic faltered.
Laughter broke around me.
“Shackle her.”
Metal snapped closed around my wrists and tail. Agony surged.
The shackles burned like the net, smoke curling where iron kissed my skin, the scent of charred flesh rising sickly sweet. I bit down on a scream, chest heaving.
I wasn’t prey. I wasn’t coin. I wasn’t a traitor. Yet, pinned to the planks, my worth tallied in parts—that was exactly what I was to them. I thrashed again. The ropes hissed and smoked where my light kissed them, but the glow sputtered out, useless.
One of them tore the satchel free. My heart slammed. “Oi, what’s this?”
He dug inside, pulling free the shards that had cost me so much. The Crescent Quartz glittered faintly in his palm.
For one breath, I thought he felt it. Then he laughed. “Just rocks.”
“Shiny ones,” another muttered—then hurled them through the open sea.
“No—!” My cry tore out raw. The shards vanished into black water, gone.
Something inside me cracked. Their laughter grew louder as they dragged me across the deck, the net biting deeper with every pull. Iron chains clinked ahead. When they shoved me down the ladder into the hold, the stench hit first—salt, mildew, blood gone sour.
Darkness swallowed me whole. They wanted me broken. I would not give them that.
The hatch slammed shut. Darkness settled.
And then I heard it. Breathing. Chains shifting.
My eyes adjusted slowly.
Dozens of shapes surrounded me—tails, horns, wings bound in burning metal. Some stared hollow-eyed. Others looked away. But a few watched me closely. Curious.
The fire in my chest burned hotter. I wasn’t alone.
The ship rocked. Silence pressed in.
I curled inward, tail numb beneath the burning bands, feeling the prickle at my hips as fins began to unravel into flesh.
They didn’t know. They thought I was just another mermaid to sell whole, to turn in for the bounty.
But when the water dried—I would have legs.
And maybe… just maybe—
That would be my chance to escape.
53
Nerina
Poacher's Ship
Time passed differently here. The dark pressed close, thick as silt, broken only when the lantern swung low enough to catch the faint glitter in my shackles.
