The mermaid stopped midair, coiling in on herself—her wail so unbearably loud it could have broken the glass if it hadn’t already been in shards. I covered my ears, nearly dropping the mirror, the earsplitting shriek carving its way into my bones.
Springing to his feet, Gunnar darted over to me, his hand wrapping around mine.
Together, we shoved the antique forward until the mermaid slunk over the edge and disappeared into the lagoon. Unclasping our fingers, Gunnar tossed it to Freyja.
She caught it in one hand and thrust it in front of her, forcing the convulsing, wailing being back into the water—hanging over the side until the cries faded to gargles.
Then there was nothing… nothing but our heavy, haunted breaths in the silence.
“You know what they say,” Freyja deadpanned, considering her perfect reflection in the remnants of the mirror. “Flattery gets you everywhere.”
Chapter 14
“Magic gets your farther.” Rising from the sodden wooden planks, I slumped onto a bench seat. “But yeah, sure, flattery is nice and all.”
Freyja threw on her jacket, sparing me an unamused glance.
Gunnar wasted no time and slipped past me to the engine, revving it to full speed. The loud hiss cleaved the silence; its vibration rattled my head and my teeth, swishing the layer of water and glass spread over the bottom of the boat.
My fingers curled around the wood. They stayed that way, for at least an hour or two, as the glacial landscape passed us by until, finally, I said, “seriously?”
“What?” Freyja sat, resting her back against the bow, cheeks red and chafed.
“Why didn’t you use your magic back there?” I fought to keep my voice loud over the howl of the wind.
“Why didn’t you use yours?”
I gripped the edge tighter, the skin stretching over my knuckles. “I’m the captive here.”
The temperature dropped, coaxing tears out of the corners of my eyes. Freyja wove her hands through her hair, redividing it into three thick strands.
“And regardless, I shouldn’t be saving you.” The merfolk’s tuneless croon ripped through my mind. “After all, aren’t you ‘the queen’s most treasured Eye’?”
Her fingers froze. “What did you say?”
My body swayed as we drove faster between the icebergs, turns growing tight and desperate.
“You’re right, angel.” Pulling the elastic from her wrist, she tied off her fresh braid, slinking forward to rest her elbows on her thighs. “I am. And it’s in your best interest to shut up and do as we say.”
A frown tugged at my lips. Twilight settled in around us. Gunnar lit a small lantern on the bow; it swung wildly in the wind, casting Freyja’s face in warm light and wicked shadows.
“So, you’re like royal guards?” I asked.
Freyja’s laugh was far from lighthearted. “That is far too simple a term.”
It was Gunnar, back at the helm, who provided an actual answer: “Eyes are all-seeing, all-knowing—and quick to dispatch any threats to their Kingdom.”
When I first met him at the hostel, he was talking about his shift, how tired he was. I had thought he was a local employee, maybe even someone working at the hostel like Freyja. But no doubt he’d been out all-night sleuthing for the elf queen. “Fine, royal spies.”
The motor slowed. Silence settled over us, heavy and jarring, as we drifted towards a small dock.
Without the buzz of the throttle, my voice came out deafening. “And what, surfing and waitressing is part of the job?”
She glowered. “It can be.”
“A queen’s best soldiers aren’t always the most useful at her side,” Gunnar added, as he maneuvered us against the bottom of the sparkling glacier, lining up the boat’s frame to the dock at its foot.
He cut the engine and anchored us to a metal bar, knotting the rope so tightly his hands shook, and tossed the duffel and my backpack—which were miraculously still stashed beneath the first row of seats—onto the planks.
