I was stuck.
Oh no.No, no, no, no—
My hands clawed and punched. My legs fluttered, feet pointed hard. I pushed and stroked—and rose not an inch.
The volcano didn't want me to escape. It had trapped me here on purpose.
I’d come like a quiet predator in the dark to the heart of a cursed island, hoping to slip in undetected. But the goddess of lava had set her snare, and I’d swam right into it.
I was going to die here.
Perhaps it was the splintering cold, but for a moment, the thought was oddly comforting. Nahli, the mother without a child, and me, the child without a mother. I could curl up and perish in the belly of a volcano, the soft waters deep within the earth, thick like waters of a womb.
But something flickered across my consciousness, a wispy feeling I couldn’t quite materialize into solid thought. All my years mending roots and planting seeds, creating and preserving life—wasted. My father alone in his quiet house. The relief the islanders would share at finding I never came home. They’d believe I’d met my demise, swallowed by the sea like my mother had been. A fate deserved for an island witch.
Hatred brushed its poisoned fingers down my sides.
Some small part of me realized it was the wrong reason to fight for my life. That I could have clung to my father’s love, or the friendship I shared with the Naiads. The breath of wind, the taste of sea, the scent of grass that I’d never feel again.
But it was anger that drove me churning for a way out.
The weight above bore down on my shoulders, and I found myself sitting on the freezing sheet. I beat my heels, lifting, crashing, until the unmistakable sound of a crack split the water, a strike of thunder in my ears. A thousand tiny fractures followed, fissures grinding and falling together and apart.
I gave a final heave, and my foot broke through. A groan echoed through the water as the ice around me caved. Down Ifell, through air and darkness, arms flailing, until I hit another body of water, forced down by the gush of liquid above. Dazed, I clawed my way up, my head reeling. Cold air burned in my lungs, and I sputtered as I gasped it in. Beside me, water fell from the icy hole above in a thick deluge, spray flicking across my face.
I was moving—rising—the falling water quickly filling the empty cavity. I drank down a few short breaths, gathering strength, and dove again.
The bottom wasn’t far. A few kicks brought me to the blue glow, arms and legs blessedly flexible once more. The light flickered as I picked it up, the fiery glow dimming until it went out.
It was a narrow prism, small but heavy, with sharp points at the top and bottom. I didn’t have time to inspect it, though even with the jarring cold, I wondered what it was. What could the Naiads want with it?
The falling waters had slowed, air escaping to the surface. I swam back up, sucking oxygen from the shrinking pocket, running my fingertips across the ice above. The hole wasn’t hard to find, I merely followed the sound of falling water.
I waited for the rushing water to stop, the cavity to fill. Near the end, it yanked me down, water pressure and tension pulling at my body; though I worked my hands around the grooves of the broken ice and gripped tight. The world went silent, and I swam through, following the final bubble as it wobbled to join the air above.
Propelling myself up, I burst through the surface, panting and clinging to the slick edges of volcanic rock. I floated in silence and disbelief that I was still alive, my arms and legs chilled to the bone, watching the glow worms orbit like stars around my head.
The only thing that felt warm was the prism, clutched tightly in my hand.
The tide had long since climbed up the sandy beach when I returned. Muscles stiff, flesh cold, my feet flapped numbly against the earth. Nori and Olinne gazed at me in shock when I drew the prism from my tapa wrap. I held it tight in my fist, realizing they’d expected me to fail.
“You might have warned me about the ice,” I spat, gripped with a sudden fury at the expressions on their ethereal faces. “What is this?”
Nori held out her hand. Shoulders squared, body motionless, she waited for me to hand over the prism. I glared at the Naiad, body still warming under the sun. My muscles shivered once, twice, but I didn’t look away. I’d risked my life for this stone, when Nori and Olinne need not risk their lives for the favor I’d asked of them.
I wouldn’t hand it over without learning first why I’d done so.
“It is the Breath of Safiro,” Nori answered, her open hand waiting. “It belongs to my queen. Give it to me, child. It is dangerous in human hands.”
I gazed down at the stone, now radiant in the light of day. Smooth, sharp facets refracted at one end, catching the sun like ice trapped beneath clear water. At the other end, the stone grew rough like gossamer frost, glittering as I turned it in my fingers. Prickling nerves trailed down my back, and I shuddered with cold.
I’d never seen anything so lovely.
“Maren,” Nori said, a hint of warning in her voice.
I placed the stone in the Naiad’s hand. Remnants of ice seemed to stick to my fingers, and I flicked my wrist absently. Olinne peered at the stone in Nori’s grasp, a hungry sparkle in her eye.
“Find the drowned sailor tonight.” I’d never demanded anything from the Naiads before.
