The net shuddered. Not snapped. Not blasted apart by fear. Undone. Thread by thread. Blackened fibers crumbled beneath my grip, dissolving into ash the water eagerly carried away. Silver Salt screamed as it burned out, its grip weakening until the mesh fell slack.
The boy surged forward. His body trembled violently, sobs hitching in ragged bursts as I pulled him close—one arm around his shoulders, the other steadying his tail. Angry burns marked his skin where the salt had kissed it, red and blistered. But he was alive.
I pressed my forehead to his, eyes squeezing shut as relief crashed over me so hard it hurt. The glow beneath my skin faded slowly, reluctantly. “You’re safe,” I whispered, though my hands still shook. “I’ve got you.”
His fingers dug into my arm with surprising strength, as if he feared I might vanish. Fury bloomed beneath the relief. Poachers. I lifted my head and scanned the dark water beyond the drifting remnants of the net. The sea murmured low around us, uneasy.
I couldn’t send him alone. He was too small, too shaken, his tail trembling with exhaustion. If he faltered in open water, they would sweep him up again before he ever saw the coral gates.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, tightening my hold. “I’ll get you home.”
The shards pulsed against my chest, their light bleeding faintly into the water as I kicked hard, propelling us forward. Ahead,the spires loomed—faint glimmers of coral and pearl catching what little light reached this deep.
We slipped beneath drifting nets, wove past hooks that flashed like fangs. My scales sparked with faint starlight, just enough to guide us through the labyrinth of ropes and shadow. The city walls rose before us.
Thalassia.
The gates came first—arched spires of coral and rune-carved stone, dusted with kelp and barnacle, faintly aglow with old magic. Shoals of fish scattered through the arches, flashes of gold and red like sparks in the blue. The city unfurled. Towers bloomed upward in tiers, lit by shells and pearls. Lantern-jellies drifted between coral balconies. Bridges threaded the spires, gardens swaying in the current—until the whole city glittered like an impossible jewel cradled in the deep. My chest ached at the sight. I guided the boy through the gates. His grip loosened, tail twitching with the first stirrings of strength.
I slowed. “Can you make it from here?”
His wide, sea-bright eyes flicked toward the streets ahead—arched bridges, darting schools of fish, the promise of safety. He nodded quickly.
I brushed his hair back and forced a smile, even as something tight twisted in my chest. “Go. Find your family. Stay hidden—and don’t stop swimming until you’re safe.”
He nodded once more, then darted off through the coral arches, tail flashing green and orange until he vanished into Thalassia’s glow. I watched him go. Relief flickered—small, stubborn—as the storm inside me shifted.
One life saved.
57
Nerina
Thalassia
I drifted through the hollow bones of the city until color found me again. Maleia’s gardens. Even in winter, they were breathtaking—coral once blazing scarlet and jade now softened to opal and pearl, moon-pale blues shimmering through the fronds. Blossoms drifted in silvery white and lavender, petals tumbling slow as snowflakes in the current. Kelp curled in ribboned coils, edges kissed with frost-light, bowing with each lazy shift of water.
I set the shards carefully among the roots of a frost-bright kelp bloom, nestling them where pearl moss grew thick and luminous. Their glow dimmed, muted by the living magic of the garden, but I could still feel them—an echo beneath my skin. I couldn’t risk them falling into the wrong hands.
They pulsed faintly, warm against my palms, their fractured light reflecting softly off the pale coral beds. For a moment, I hesitated—every instinct screaming to keep them close—but the gardens felt… safe. Sheltered. Untouched.
“I’ll be back,” I whispered.
“Nerina?” Her voice was a whisper—fragile as a seashell pressed to the ear. I turned. Maleia hovered half-hidden in the pale kelp, rose-colored hair floating like tide-silk, jewel-bright scales shimmering in the garden’s glow.
Neither of us moved.
Then she flew at me, colliding so hard it knocked the current from my lungs. Her arms locked around me—fierce, unyielding—and suddenly I was laughing and sobbing all at once. “You’re alive,” she gasped into my shoulder. Her voice broke, half laugh, half cry. “Cods, you’re alive. I thought—”
“I’m here,” I whispered, clutching her just as tightly. My throat ached with it. “I thought I’d lost you too.”
She pulled back just enough to catch my face between her hands, thumbs brushing away the tears spilling free. “You idiot,” she choked, though her
smile trembled. “Running off like that. You always did have to be the dramatic one.”
A laugh cracked from me. “Says the girl who used to fake fainting in tide-reading lessons so you could get out of them.”
“Tide-reading is so boring,” she shot back, eyes gleaming through tears. “You were just jealous you couldn’t sell it.”
