He kneels by the merman, hands trembling, and fumbles for the key at the merman’s neck. It takes two tries, but he gets it, hands shaking so bad he almost drops it. Then, he resheaths his own dagger and yanks my dagger out of the merman’s shoulder with a hiss as the bone touches his skin, his expression bordering on fury as he looks at the unconscious merman.
He faces me. He’s drawn and pale, and I see the blood on his hands, on his face, and the little cuts on his arms from the merman’s claws.
He hands me back my dagger, and I quietly slip it into my sheath. Then, he kneels, key out, and unlocks the shackle from my ankle. The second it falls away, I kick the chain off, crawling to Cassius and hugging him as tight as I can. He doesn’t hug back at first, but after a second he does, holding me close, chest heaving. I want to tell him how brave he was. I want to tell him I was afraid he would die. I want to tell him I don’t ever want to be left alone again.
But all I manage is, “Thank you.”
He pulls away, looking at me with those perfect eyes, a pale shade of blue I’ve never seen in real life before, and I’m surprised. Surprised at the softness I see in his gaze. Surprised by the gentle way he looks at me. I haven’t seen much of this side of him.
“You would have done the same for me,” he says, his tone gentle.
He helps me stand. My legs barely work.
The merman floats in the corner, blood mixing with the water in lazy ribbons, and I look away, disturbed by the sight. Knowing that was almost us.
Cassius looks at the door, then at me. “We have to go. Now.”
I glance back at the merman, just once. He’s not smiling now, is he? The bastard.
Cassius and I swim side by side, away from the merman, toward the surface, through the strange tunnel into the merman’s lair. I don’t look back again. I never want to look back. I just want to forget this terrible place ever existed.
Cassius is pulling me by the hand, every muscle in his body wound tight and trembling, the blue energy of his water magic leaving tiny ripples in the current. He’s tired. I’m tired. But neither of us will stop until we get back to the others. We barely make it fifty feet out of the merman’s lair before it happens… a shadow lunges out from the wall and clamps around Cassius’s neck.
It’s the merman, back again. His eyes are even wider now, all of them bloodshot and rolling, his teeth bared to the root. He’s bleeding everywhere, wounds from Cassius’s fight and the dagger I threw, but he doesn’t care. He wants to kill. He wants to take us with him.
He wraps one arm around Cassius’s throat and yanks him up. Cassius’s legs flail. He can’t get a grip. He claws at the merman’s arm, at his fingers, at anything, but the merman only squeezes harder, lips pulled back in a snarl.
Cassius’s legs kick weakly. I see him grab at his belt, trying for a weapon, but the merman is too fast. He spins Cassius around, slamming his head into the wall of the tunnel. Cassius goes limp for a second, then sags, eyes fluttering.
The merman’s other arm lashes out, grabs my ankle, and pulls me closer.
I scream, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no one else to hear me scream. No one else to save us but ourselves, and that’s a terrifying thought.I’m just some stupid farm girl. I’m just someone who can never do anything right. I’m just–
The merman’s face is right there, all of his eyes looking at me at once, a ring of white and black and red, all hate. “Stupid,” he growls. “You thinkyoucan ever leaveme?”
He squeezes Cassius’s neck again, and Cassius’s mouth opens, no sound, only bubbles. The water fae’s eyes roll back in his head, and I know he’ll lose consciousness soon.
I reach for the dagger. My hand shakes, but I get it, and the second I do, it grows in my hand, growing and warping, the blue light coiling around it until it’s no longer a dagger but a full-length sword, almost too big to swing underwater.
Pulling it back, I realize that I can’t aim for his head because I’ll hit Cassius. But the merman’s chest is right there, scales peeled and bleeding.This is it. My one chance.I drive the sword forward with every bit of strength I have.
The sword slides in like the merman is made of butter, all the way to the hilt, and the merman’s body jerks. Blood pours out all around me, black and cloudy, and the merman’s arms go slack.
Cassius slips out of the chokehold and falls, hands clutching his throat, coughing and choking.
The merman doesn’t die right away. He turns, all his eyes on me, and for a moment he looks almost betrayed. Then he grabs the blade and tries to pull it out, but his fingers don’t work, just scrabble and slip. He’s making a sound, like sobbing or maybe cursing, and then he falls over, spasming, tail slamming against the floor.
The water around us fills with more blood.
Cassius is on the lake bed, hacking, trying to breathe. His face is gray, lips blue. I crawl to him and wrap my arms around his chest and just hold on, desperate to feel the warmth of himagain. Desperate to know that he’s okay. Somehow, him being okay is more important than anything else in the world. More important than my farm. More important than my town. Even more important than my horse.
I just need him to be okay. I need to know he didn’t die trying to save me.
He coughs, once, then twice, then breathes in, slow and ragged.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, voice shaking so much I barely hear it. “You’re okay, you’re okay?—”
He shudders, then leans against me, body so heavy I nearly collapse under the weight. His eyes are wild, glazed, but alive.
