Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) Read online

Page 32


  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  One Last Chance

  Tanuu and Annith dropped me just out of reach of the water. The tide would catch up to us soon, but they were panting too hard to carry me further.

  Rocks groaned beneath hands and knees as they collapsed behind me.

  “Are you hurt?” I said, glancing to Lysi.

  “Who cares about us,” mumbled Tanuu.

  I closed my fingers over the blood-soaked bandage.

  “Look, I lived a month longer than I was supposed to.”

  Lysi’s eyes widened. “Don’t say that!”

  “We both know it was my fate to die on the Massacre.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I would never have let that happen.”

  She pulled herself from the tide and sat next to me.

  Every part of me seared with pain, both inside and out. My heart laboured to pump blood that wasn’t there.

  The world blurred. Ocean merged with cloud, the horizon broken and jagged. Somewhere closer, the dark mass of the Host swelled with the waves. Dani played with it, bringing it close and then pushing it away. I wondered if she was afraid to bring it to the ceremony. I thought I might be, if I were in her position.

  The rising tide hissed in my ears, ready to coil around my chest and pull me down.

  I stretched out my injured hand. Even that appeared fuzzy. Blood dripped into the waves and disappeared.

  Lysi closed her hand around it.

  I raked my eyes over her, grateful I got to see her one last time: her skin, smooth and golden; her greenish-brown tail, fading into her stomach like a sunset; her hair, coppery blonde, made thicker by tangles and seaweed; her perfect, arched eyebrows; her eyes, inhumanly large, white as pearls, blue as sapphires; her lips, full and rosy.

  I lingered on her lips.

  Might as well, I thought, if I’m going to die anyway.

  I slid a hand around the back of her neck and tried to pull her towards me. She didn’t move, resisting as easily as if I’d been pulling a tree trunk.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “You entered this world a human, and you should leave it a human. I would never forgive myself for taking that from you in your last …”

  Her voice cracked. She shook her head.

  “I don’t care,” I said. “I want to die having kissed you.”

  Her breath hitched. She pulled back, but I held on.

  “You’re not thinking clearly,” she said.

  “I am. I’ve … I’ve known since the Massacre.”

  Her eyes flicked to my lips. “You have?”

  My next words came easily—even urgently. My moments were too numbered for anything else.

  “I love you, Lysi.”

  It was as though something inside her disintegrated. Her shoulders dropped, her face softened, her eyebrows pulled down over those large, bright eyes.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  I felt her words as much as I heard them—a gust of breath on my skin, a stammer in my heart, a tingling in my lips.

  “Then kiss me,” I said.

  Her gaze dropped to my lips again. She seemed about to speak, but then closed her mouth.

  “Do it!” said Tanuu.

  Lysi and I started. I’d all but forgotten we weren’t alone. We turned to him just as he howled in pain, and Annith rubbed her knuckles where they’d made contact with Tanuu’s jaw.

  “Don’t be a pig!” she shouted. “Our friend is about to die and all you can—”

  “No!” he said. “I mean she’s gotta be taken from her human form.”

  “What?” said Blacktail and Annith together.

  Tanuu pulled the soggy parchment from his pocket.

  “Whatever curse is acting on Meela won’t harm her if she’s not human.”

  Nobody spoke as he massaged his jawbone back in place. Lysi and I stared at each other.

  “Listen,” said Tanuu, flattening the parchment. “It says, the soul hosted by the human revives the one within the leviathan. Human! Even in the rest of it—it talked about human blood, human souls.”

  Annith covered her mouth.

  “Oh,” Blacktail breathed.

  I tried to recall what the story said. I could barely focus on the present.

  I glanced between my friends, really seeing them since that merman had attacked. Annith’s hair dripped down her face, taking a stream of blood with it. She’d hit her head. Tanuu had a swollen cheekbone that would soon become a black eye. Blacktail cradled her left arm across her chest.

  “Meela, this is how you can survive,” said Tanuu.

  My heart beat faster, as though renewed by the prospect of staying alive.

  After a stunned silence, I turned to Lysi. “You can save my life.”

  “Are you sure that’s true?” she said, voice high.

  “No,” said Tanuu. “But she has nothing to lose by trying.”

  Lysi’s eyes darted between us, wide and fearful. “I … I haven’t … Mee, I’ve never changed a human before.”

  “Good,” I said.

  She searched my face, seeming to gauge whether I was being serious.

  Annith grabbed Tanuu and Blacktail by the hands.

  “We’ll be over there,” she said, nodding towards the crumbled ship.

  She strained to her feet and pulled the others with her, leaving Lysi and me alone.

  Lysi watched them hobble away for several seconds, until I ran my fingers through her hair. She turned back to me, eyes glossy with fear.

  “You’re sure you want to?” she said.

  I raised myself on my knees, linking my hands around her neck. “Yes.”

  “If this works, you’re a mermaid forever.”

  “I want to be with you,” I said.

  “What if you change your mind? I don’t want to be the one to steal you from your people.”

  “You’re not stealing anything. You’re giving me my life.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it.

  Though she could have pulled away from my hold, she didn’t.

  “Lysi, this is the only life I have. I don’t want to lose it. I have too much to live for.”

  The words struck me as I said them. Despite everything my family had been through, I felt lucky to be alive. I had so much to do, and it would take a lifetime to do it all. I was not ready to have my life cut short.

  Besides, this war against Adaro had yet to be won. I refused to die until I saw that happen.

  Somewhere in those moments, Lysi had leaned closer. My head felt light, from some combination of dizziness and her sweet-smelling breath against my skin.

  I knotted her hair in my fists.

  The tide rose around us, me on my knees, Lysi sitting hip-deep. Her tail fluttered in the shallow waves.

  I stopped shivering. I felt warm, despite the icy water, cutting wind, and Lysi’s cold skin beneath my palms.

  One way or another, my human life had come to an end.

  My heart knew it, pounding wildly in my chest.

  “Ready?” I said.

  “Ready.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  I was reminded of a day on the beach so many years ago, sitting on these hard, damp rocks, Lysi telling me to close my eyes.

  Despite everything, I smiled.

  She must have remembered, too, because her lips pulled back from those perfect, white teeth.

  For a moment, we stayed there, our breaths shallow. Lysi’s hands were on my waist, clenching my soaking wet shirt.

  Then I leaned in, and kissed her.

  I held her face as our lips met, feeling her smooth skin beneath my hands. Her arms slid around my back and pulled me closer, and I pressed my body against hers.

  In that moment, everything in my life came together. Everything I’d ever felt made sense, like the world had opened before me. Lysi was my childhood, my teenage years, and now my future.

  I ran my fingers through her
hair. My senses seemed to sharpen—a tingling in my skin, the waves purring louder in my ears, a sweetness on my tongue. Warmth spread through my body.

  If this was what it felt like to bleed to death, it wasn’t so bad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Sea Rats

  The current changed.

  I pulled away.

  “What is it?” said Meela.

  The serpent was moving through the waves, steady and powerful. The intensity of her focus was like a shark’s, but I could sense in her a deep, age-old intelligence.

  I threw out an arm to sweep Meela behind me, as though I could protect her from what was coming.

  “No,” shouted Dani. “The Host needs her sacrifice!”

  “You already have her blood!” I said.

  The sky darkened as the serpent loomed out of the water.

  “She hasn’t died, yet,” said Dani.

  Tanuu ran towards us, Annith and Blacktail on his heels.

  “She doesn’t need to,” he said. “You already have control, Dani.”

  She seemed to consider this, but her aura flared as Meela’s friends placed themselves between us and the towering snake. Her fists clenched, hair tangling in the wind like seaweed caught in a riptide. Her pale eyes gleamed as hungrily as the serpent’s.

  “I gave you the chance to die with honour, Meela.”

  She was erratic, projecting anger and sadness and elation all at once.

  “Dani, calm down,” said Meela. “You don’t understand.”

  She didn’t, and she never would. Dani would never think of merpeople as equals. Her whole life had been dedicated to destroying us. She wasn’t about to change that—not while her people depended on her.

  Meela’s friends stood ready to fight. To what end, I didn’t know. Any weapons would be toys against this girl and her serpent.

  “Let Meela go,” said Annith. “You can walk away from this without killing anyone else—”

  “Annith!” said Meela.

  It had been the wrong thing to say, for Dani radiated fury.

  The serpent gave a low hiss. Its jaws parted.

  “Let’s work together,” said Meela. “You don’t need to set the serpent on every mermaid. Let us tell you what we know.”

  I didn’t like the energy coming from Dani. I needed to get to her before she acted.

  Could I dart past the serpent and get to the boulder?

  The double heads gave me pause. I might have outstripped a single head, but two? Could I move quickly enough? Maybe I could get beneath it somewhere.

  I leaned down, scanning for a path.

  Meela grabbed my arm, as if reading my thoughts.

  “Look, if you wanna save our people, killing one of Eriana’s descendants isn’t a great way to start,” said Tanuu.

  “She’s no child of Eriana!” said Dani with a pulse of rage.

  Meela shouted back. “Open your mind! Mermaids are no different from humans. I’m still the same—”

  “You’ve betrayed your people! You did this to yourself, knowing I have the most powerful creature in the world in my hands. Knowing I’m about to use her to destroy every last demon, starting with this one—”

  Dani lurched, as though some force had knocked her from behind. Her eyes bulged. It took me a moment to feel the emotion coming from her.

  Fear.

  She opened her mouth as though to say more. A whimper escaped, so soft that I wasn’t sure anyone else heard it.

  A thick, crimson bubble formed between her parted lips. She looked down. The bubble popped. A stream of blood dripped down her chin and onto her uniform.

  The smell of blood, already heavy, wafted under my nose. Warm, fresh, pure.

  She fell slowly. She seemed to resist it. Her arms dropped to her sides. Her knees buckled. Her head drooped onto her chest. With the soft thud of flesh against stone, she collapsed in a heap on the boulder.

  The serpent turned. Its jaws closed with a snap.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the rock.

  A merman sat behind Dani’s crumpled body.

  Adaro was panting, teeth bared. Seawater poured from his black hair.

  Blood trickled down his forearm—spilling out of the heart clenched in his fist.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Passed by Blood

  Dani’s heart pulsed in Adaro’s webbed fingers. Was I imagining it? Could a heart really still keep beating when ripped from its owner’s chest?

  I nearly retched at the sight of it.

  Blood dripped down his arm. He surveyed us on the beach, larger and more sinister than I remembered. His crimson eyes widened as they lingered on Lysi.

  Dani lay on the boulder, motionless but for her dark hair, which fluttered in the wind. A dark stain pooled across her back.

  Silence rang in my ears. I wanted to cry out.

  I couldn’t identify the feeling in my chest. Rage, shock, grief—anything but victory. Dani didn’t deserve this. She was never the real enemy.

  Kneeling on the rocks, my legs weakened. I fell sideways.

  A low hiss came from the water. The serpent turned all four eyes onto her fallen master.

  The vertical pupils darkened.

  The heads turned from Dani to Adaro.

  Control is passed by blood.

  I drew a panicked, shaky breath.

  “You need to run,” said Lysi. “Go. Now. Can you support Meela?”

  Tanuu leapt to his feet, not taking his eyes off Adaro.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing me under the arms.

  “No!” I said. “I’m not leaving—”

  The serpent roared, the sound echoing across the water, bringing our hands to our ears. She drifted closer to the rock. Her pupils narrowed into slits, trained onto her new master.

  “Well done, Meela,” said Adaro, flashing his teeth. “Though perhaps not exactly as planned. I was not expecting to have to kill this one for it.”

  He waved a bloodied hand at Dani. The serpent’s heads ducked, watching.

  “But, all the same. You gave your blood, and the Host is mine, in the end.”

  He lobbed Dani’s heart into the air. The serpent caught it and swallowed.

  “Meela,” said Annith, her voice a squeak.

  “Get her out of here!” said Lysi.

  She rounded on us with a red gleam in her eyes. Annith gasped. Blacktail stepped back. Tanuu’s grip tightened around my arms.

  “We’re not going anywhere!” I said. “We can’t let him get away.”

  Adaro swept his arm, and the serpent turned her whale-sized heads towards us. A pink tongue tasted the air.

  We needed to act now. If the serpent was indestructible, it was her master we would have to kill.

  Blacktail pulled out her iron dagger.

  “How’s your aim?” said Tanuu.

  “Perfect,” said Blacktail. “But he’s too far away.”

  I tried to stand. The searing pain in my body had ebbed, but my legs were numb. I couldn’t move them.

  With an enormous effort, I pushed myself back up onto my knees, wobbling. I couldn’t support my own weight. I’d have to drag myself across the beach with my hands.

  A whimper escaped my lips. I was trapped in my own body.

  The serpent advanced.

  “Fine,” said Lysi.

  She dove, swimming straight for the serpent.

  I screamed after her, but she’d already gone.

  My legs wouldn’t cooperate. I picked one up, as if I could move it like a puppet. I couldn’t feel my fingers touching it.

  What was happening to me?

  Either this was it, and I had no blood left to pump through my muscles, or …

  I held my injured palm close to my face. The bandage was dirty, wet, useless. I pulled the knot loose and wrenched it from my hand.

  The cotton fell into the waves, where it carried back and forth like a long strand of seaweed.

  The bleeding had stopped. The cut looked as it sh
ould have—small and harmless.

  I lifted my gaze to the serpent. She’d stopped advancing.

  Adaro watched Lysi disappear beneath the waves. His reptilian mouth curled into a snarl.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Para La Reina

  I made certain Adaro would see me shoot past the boulder.

  The serpent’s attention locked onto me. She seemed to come from all directions.

  I doubled back, travelling deeper, enticing her to follow.

  At least, I assumed I would be able to outstrip the serpent. Nothing could match the speed and agility of a mermaid. Could it?

  Several heartbeats passed before the current churned.

  One head loomed in my vision, a black shadow. Where was the other?

  I scanned the emptiness. That ancient, all-consuming presence filled the water, blinding my senses to all else.

  Something gurgled in the distance. A sudden warmth washed over my skin. Then a dark shape lunged at me, jaws open.

  I dove.

  Teeth clamped together, grazing my tail. The current crashed into me and flipped me over. I swam blindly away.

  The sky shone beside me. I spun and dove straight down. I grazed the bottom like a flatfish, leading the serpent away from the beach.

  She recovered quickly and made another lunge. I veered sideways. The snout slammed against the rocks with an earth-shaking rumble.

  The other head appeared beside me. A bubble blew from her nostrils, casting a veil across my path.

  She was going to attack from both sides.

  I used my hands to turn sharply. Both sets of jaws closed over nothing.

  I pumped my tail hard. If I swam fast enough, the serpent would have to straighten out to chase me properly. Then I would have only a single head to deal with.

  My muscles ached. In my whole life, I’d never swum so fast, or as far as I had in the past tidecycle. I pushed past the bone-deep exhaustion, trying to think.

  If Adaro was focused on controlling the serpent, maybe the others could kill him.

  With what?

  As I swam headlong away from the beach, the current surged rhythmically behind me. The serpent was following.

  I nearly banked south, maybe out of childhood habit. Then I remembered the families in the coral. I changed course abruptly. The serpent kept going for a moment, snapping at my wake.