I nodded, the thought floating into my head that I hadn’t even had time to wallow in uncertainty: were mermaids real? All logic told me no. So how was I grasping a mermaid’s hand, wishing for her to return to life?
“Silas,” I said, my gut sinking as I noted a change in the mermaid’s condition. “We’re too late.”
I pointed at unwelcome black lines weaving their way around the mermaid’s fin. Her tail looked dull and listless as the curse spread before my eyes—quicker than it had on Irina. I watched as the sunlight inside this mermaid’s essence grew dull. Her hair went flat, normal and plain, her skin pale and clammy instead of a delicate, porcelain sheen.
“I can’t possibly counteract this curse without Lily’s potion. The antidote,” I said. “I haven’t even come to terms with what I did for Irina yesterday, but I know Ican’t possibly do it again without that vial. How far away is your Mixologist?”
Silas’s lips went into a thin line. The black lines crisscrossed over the mermaid’s waist. The pace at which it was overtaking Melodia was startling.
“I can’t watch her die,” I said, as much to myself as to him. I looked up at Silas. His expression was complicated. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I have two vials of antidote.” Silas ground the words out, like he was resisting being truthful. “One for me, one for you. Lily gave them to me when I told her we’d be going into The Forest. It’s only enough for the two of us. If we make a misstep mending the wards, we are going to need those vials. We can’t afford to use one now.”
“Give me one.” When Silas didn’t make a move, I put out a hand. “I would never expect you to sacrifice yours. I’ll use mine.”
“I told you that I would protect you,” he growled. “I will die before I let you die.”
“My vial, my choice,” I said. “Please.”
“I told you I’d die in your place.” Silas’s voice was sharp. “I meant it. You may use mine.”
“If I’m touched by the curse, are you going to be able to use the potion to fix me?” I stared at him. “My vial is useless unless someone else can fix me.”
“Maybe so.” Silas put his hand over mine, and I felt the touch of glass against my skin. “But I’d like you to use mine.”
My fingers closed around that precious bottle of magic, the spinning double helix. Those white wisps of clouds encased in glass were our only chance to save this mermaid. Semantics aside, we were going to be down one bottle. I had a feeling if we both needed our dose, it’d be too late anyway.
Closing my eyes, I poured the solution onto my palm, my body sinking into the same sort of rhythm, a newly-acquired muscle memory, from my practice yesterday on the floor of Wisteria Cottage.
I began to weave this precious magic over Melodia’s body. I stretched the cotton-candy magic around her fin and nestled it into her, feeling her life force resisting the repulsion of evil magic.
The curse had pulled her under so completely Ialmostcouldn’t retrieve her, but I was stubborn. And determined. I might not believe fully in enchanted lands and Fae Queens, but I believed in myself. I felt in my soul that it was my dutyto help her.
Through sheer persistence and determination, I completed the weaving process. I collapsed back, sweating under the hot sun, my body limp and weak.
“You’ve done it again.” Silas didn’t sound surprised.
He did sound something else. Reverent?Impressed?
I wiped perspiration from my brow. “I’m just doing my job.”
“More than you know.” Silas knelt beside me. “You’re incredible, Alessia. More magnificent than I’d ever dreamed.”
“Silas.” I put up a hand on his cheek.
The movement was so weak it was like my muscles were acting without my brain attached. As if I believed he could funnel his strength to me and share a little of that power he so clearly possessed.
Until he was knocked out of my view. Blown backward by an astronomical amount of force. Silas had an unending stream of power that I could sense, but he had been taken off guard—as had I—and it had been his undoing.
One minute, my palm was resting against the rough five o’clock shadow on Silas’s jaw. The next, his head cracked against a tree, and he was surrounded by nets and nets of shimmering magic, some sort of barricade to keep him tied down when—if—he regained consciousness.
The mermaid had healed. Except this wasn’t any mermaid.
She was a siren.
The angry, powerful siren caged me in, pushing me back against the ground. I was pretty sure Silas wasn’t dead—he was too powerful to be killed like this. But I wasn’t nearly powerful enough to defend myself.
I was going to die.
