Page 43 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

I dove deeper, shouting his name in the water on instinct and using up my precious air too fast.

There. I saw him sinking lower, his broken wings dragging him into the inky depths as surely as if they were an anchor.

I dove, my lungs burning now as I held my breath, catching his hand before he slipped into darkness.

It was cold and he was so still, but I willed the sea to push us up as I kicked my tail furiously and dragged at his hand. I was terrified that if I let go, he would be gone forever, and I begged the sea to lift us with more fervor than I had ever requested anything in my life.

The sea obliged, my faithful friend, the currents rising to lift us with unnatural speed. I surfaced with a gasp, taking in lungfuls of precious air and willing the sea to continue lifting Caspian. His dead weight was far too heavy to drag, and I silently prayed for him to breathe as I put my hand on his chest to coax the water from his lungs.

Willing the currents in the sea was different from willing them inside a living body. The water in his lungs was settled and cut off from its home, but I cajoled it into rising with enough force that Caspian finally let out a shuddering cough.

“Seas below, you sound like me,” I quipped, my own breath coming in wheezing rasps. Caspian coughed again, the weight of his wings threatening to drag him back under. I buoyed him up, urging the seas to lift us, and slung his arm over my shoulder.

“Told you,” he gasped, words coming in little fits, “to leave.”

“When have you known me to listen?” I replied, my own voice weak and thready under the strain of carrying us both. My lungs were burning with the effort of propelling us, and Caspian attempted to help by kicking his own legs.

There was no land in sight, and I knew we wouldn’t last out here. We were both exhausted, and eventually my magic would fail. Then we would drown. Or be eaten by something. Or both.

Land. I thought the word as hard as I could, pushing an image of rocky cliffs and sandy beaches against the place where the sea’s awareness met my own. My magic was fading, but the sea had plenty to share.We need to get to land.Please. Help me. Don’t let me drown.

We began to move, drifting more purposefully in one direction as I thought the word, pushing mental images of the maps I knew of the Silent Isles at the sea. I had no idea where we were, but I prayed to the seas that we were close to somewhere that would give us a reprieve.

I swam, the night dragging on as I towed Caspian behind me. He had lost consciousness again, the wounds to his wings and body too great to bear. His breath rattled like he had several broken ribs pressing into his lungs, but at least he was breathing.

My terror faded into a dull roar, the exhaustion too overwhelming to fret about my lungs as I struggled to stay afloat and moving. The sea urged me on, pushing me forward and nudging me in the correct direction as I swam blindly.

By the time the light turned thin and gray, I began to worry that the sea wasn’t really helping. That I had imagined it nudging me forward. No land was in sight, and I prayed with more fervor for refuge.Land. Land. Land.

A seagull cried out above me, flapping in the same direction the seas had been pushing me.

Thank you, I thought, glancing back to see Caspian still breathing faintly but almost entirely drained of color.

By the time the beach came into view, fog obscuring the rest of the island as effectively as a shield of magic, I wasn’t swimming anymore. My magic was thin and weak as I begged the seas to push us just a little farther.

My limbs felt like lead, and everything ached as I willed us forward on mostly a prayer. The waves began to crash over us, threatening to pull Caspian from my grasp, and I pushed the last distance through the shallow surf to the rocky shore.

Caspian was too heavy to get fully out of the water, and I collapsed with the tide still ebbing and flowing around us, praying that we wouldn’t slip back into the waves as I lost my own battle for consciousness.

Icametowiththe sun glinting weakly down on me through a haze of fog, my hair crusted with salt and sand as I lay still partially submerged in the water. Caspian was next to me, his wings waterlogged and chest rising in shallow, labored breaths. Seagulls and birds of prey cried above us, their squawks hopeful as they waited to see if we would become a meal to scavenge.

Seas below, how long had I been out?

With a groan, I heaved, dragging Caspian as far out of the water as I could, too exhausted to even transform my tail back into legs. My hands were still webbed and awkward out of the water, and I shuffled up the beach as I tried to pull him out of the surf.

“Caspian,” I croaked, my voice scratchy and barely recognizable as I shook his shoulder. His wings were bent at an odd angle beneath him, and I winced, worried I had done even more damage by dragging him. “Caspian. Cas!”

I leaned over him, watching carefully to make sure he was still taking in breaths. His lashes fluttered, and he groaned slightly, making my heart leap with hope.

“Cas,” I croaked, shaking him again. How long had it been since I’d had water? I was so thirsty. My lips felt dry and cracked, and Caspian looked just as parched. I shook him again, and he croaked out a groan.

I barely had time to register his hand coming up to cup my neck before, without a word or a cough or even a “where am I?” he pulled me toward him and kissed me.

He tasted like salt, his lips gritty with sand as they met mine in what must have been a kiss powered by sheer and utter relief. I was too startled to protest, and Caspian was unfathomably strong, despite his bedraggled state. He pulled me closer to him, his other hand sliding over my slick, seal skinned backside as his tongue pressed against the seam of my lips.

Belatedly I realized I was completely naked, my more intimate parts disguised only by my tail. I pulled away, wrenching out of his grasp as my stomach lurched in protest, though whether it was protesting the kiss or my breaking it, I couldn’t be sure.

His head fell back on the sand, his eyes closed and skin pale.