The violent current tore him from the shore, and the power that had stirred the ocean to action continued to act upon it, pushing it on and on. Austin struggled to keep his head above the choppy waves. Moving against the force of the current waslike trying to overpower a giant. With gruesome effort, he got his face above water, dragged in a breath.
“St—” Water sloshed into his mouth, cutting off the command.
Austin’s head plunged under again, and his body was slow to respond as he fought his way upwards once more. Bubbles obscured his vision as the need to breathe surged and panic set in. Austin tried to claw his way up, but no matter how he fought, he couldn’t breach the surface.
I need air!
Hooks plunged into his neck.
And tore.
Chapter Five
Bright light pierced his eyelids, discouraging him from opening them as he took stock of his painfully stiff body. He was lying face down on something warm and gritty. Sand? Small stones? There was a gentle lapping and the sound of seabirds. A shore, then.
His neck was on fire, even the shallowest of breaths aching.
Sand shifted to his left, and something heavy draped across Austin’s body from shoulder to calf, stopping shy of his feet, which were resting in the warm ocean. The ocean’s disobedience came back to Austin, stirring an energising anger that had him peeling his eyes open.
The world put a stop to any intended violent action at once. The bright sky above left him squinting, and his body rebelled against quick movement, his muscles seizing. With a groan, Austin got his weight onto his forearms, lifted onto his knees, then hinged his weight back to sink into a stiff child’s pose. Muscles and joints creaked and snapped their protest. The sheet draped over him slipped forward, soft silk making him flinch as it touched his injured neck.
Austin grasped the edges of the sheet, arranging it so that as he sat up, it covered his front. He peered through slitted eyes at the waiting man. Bleached white sand clung to bare feet. Hewore tan canvas trousers and a long-sleeved blue shirt, casually open at the collar, though Austin had seen enough expensive shirts not to be fooled by the casual style of this one. Silky black hair was pulled back into a bun, a few strands escaping to frame a handsome, somewhat stern face.
Blue irises were framed by an even darker blue; merman blue, where an ordinary human had white.
Even without the eyes giving him away, Austin would have recognised the man as a merman. It was something he could always feel. From the way he was being watched, it was likely that sentiment was returned, and that had him tensing. The last merman he’d spoken to—flirted with—had sneered and called him a mongrel. Humans and merfolk alike were repelled by him. He didn’t have enough of either, his biology muddied waters that left people afraid of what lurked beneath the surface.
Where the razor shells at home didn’t dare harm his feet, the tiny grains of sand here dug painfully into his knees. And he was very, very aware that he was on his knees, that this man towered above him. Vulnerability was a sharp, terrifying thing.
Austin had promised himself when Cessair died that he would never bow his head to anyone again. He reached inside himself for that power he was terrified to use on others, but rather than reassurance, he found the opposite. The wild energy lay dormant, ignoring Austin’s internal prods like a cat refusing to rouse from its nap.
“You are the—” the merman began.
“Fuck yourself,” Austin cut in with a sneer. He didn’t wait formongrelto pass his lips. His voice came out hoarse, and talking made his neck throb fiercely. The merman didn’t speak English, and Austin didn’t speak his language, but a skill as innate as breathing bridged the gap. Austin could understand any language he came across and make himself understood without conscious thought.
Surprise flitted across the man’s expression, followed by a small frown. He adjusted his shoulders, like he was shaking out annoyance. When his gaze settled on Austin again, it was as if he was considering whether they were going to fight.
Austin glared up at him.
He considered the shore out of the corner of his eye: a beach of white sand led to a series of spread-out buildings, squat and uniform—not at all like the mismatch of style and purpose that Austin had seen in the city. A stone wall was dotted with many heads, onlookers a half-mile off. Too far to see Austin clearly, unless they were monsters with superior vision.
Minutes passed. The tide advanced, lapping at Austin’s knees, stealing the sand from beneath him and destabilising his balance. He put down a hand, cursing the now twice-treacherous ocean. For an indulgent moment, he fantasised about someone coming to his rescue, but Austin knew all too well that there was nobody coming to find him. Nobody even knew he could have done with a bit of help. He was on his own here.
The merman broke the silence. “You are here on behalf of the monarch?”
His head abruptly snapped down. Austin followed his gaze to a thin, white worm, long and curving, wriggling against his knee. A visceral horror rose in Austin, and his power woke, something about it feeling separate from Austin for a half second. As if the power was its own thing, with its own consciousness, and was as horrified by the worm as Austin was.
“Kill yourself,” Austin ordered.
With an ear-piercing shriek, it curved away from Austin, twisting around itself until it was tied into a knot. The knot tightened so much that its body fractured, coming apart at the seams. Part of it was tugged away by the next receding wave, pale green insides spilling out. The shriek ended on a piercing whistle. Austin’s power retreated, satisfied that the worm wasdead. Its absence left him even more tired than before, like he’d overexerted an already strained muscle.
Austin returned his flagging attention to the merman, who stood frozen with his hand outstretched, as if he’d been reaching for the worm. The sight of that softened Austin the tiniest bit. The merman had intended to get it away from him.
“I didn’t mean you,” Austin said.
At the merman’s questioning look, Austin gestured to the pieces of dead worm being dragged out in the tide. “I was talking to the worm. Not you. Do you understand?” He studied the merman’s eyes for confirmation that he wasn’t about to run off and take his own life.
“I do.” His hand returned to his side, and he considered the way Austin was labouring to stay upright. “Would you like to…visit?” He seemed to struggle over what word to use, though a small gesture to the houses further in made his meaning clear.
