Page 7
I wrap an arm behind her and smooth it back from her forehead. The lines in her sun-weathered beige skin have disappeared beneath a mask of unconsciousness, and tiny bubbles line her parted lips.
Aside from the blood blooming from the red gash at her temple, she looks peaceful, like a marble statue. For a moment, I consider adding her to my collection.
“The ocean is a womb. The ocean is a tomb,” my sisters and I used to sing to welcome drowning victims to their watery graves. “There is no true death beneath the sea. This is the beginning and the end of everything.”
But sometimes I would sneak back to watch the flesh peel from the corpses, and it didn’t seem very mystical to me. I’d never choose that fate for my sailor, even if a part of me wishes I could keep her forever.
Clutching her white blouse, I pull her away from the base of a sea stack as a plated tail slams into the rock formation. I hold her close and work my tail as hard as I can, hauling her back up into the night air.
Her head lolls against my shoulder, and I fight to keep her mouth above the water. My gills struggle to get enough air inside me, filtering in ragged breaths.
A wave rolls up beneath me, and I push myself into its momentum, letting it carry me the rest of the way to the cove. It spits us out on the small beach, and I flip onto my belly, crawling closer to the sailor.
It’s quiet. The sounds of Zephyr’s clash with the serpent have died down already.
They reappear as a blue orb in my periphery. “I thought I told you to get out of here.”
I run my thumb down the sailor’s cheek. “I can’t just leave her.”
“She’s not my problem. You are,” they say. “The serpent is dead, but it didn’t go down quietly. People will come looking.”
None of that matters to me.
“She’s not breathing,” I whisper, panic cinching my throat. “Zephyr, I don’t know what to do. Please help me.”
They hesitate for a beat, then sigh. “Fine. Turn her over on her side.”
I do as they say and listen to their instructions. I try thumping on her back, pressing on her chest, and forcing air into her mouth.
“It’s not working,” I say, breaking the seal of our lips.
“Cordelia.” Zephyr’s energy brushes down my neck and rests on my shoulders. “She’s gone.”
I shake my head.
It’s not fair for her to be taken from her life like this when there’s still so much for her to do and see. We don’t share personal details that could lead to trouble with our families, but we both know each other’s hearts. Our hopes and dreams.
We’re from such different worlds, and yet, we want the same things.
She’s supposed to get a chance at happiness, even though I won’t be a part of it. “We have to do something.”
“I’m sorry,” Zephyr says. “I don’t know how to bring her back from this.”
But I know someone who does.
A sea witch named Cosette lives on the other side of the island. My body is too exhausted to swim to the private cove with the sailor, so I form a message in my throat for her.
2
CORDELIA
“Have you lost your mind?” Zephyr hisses. “Stop this before she hears you.”
Their pleas fade in the background, blending with the sounds of the surf as I sing. My Ocean Voice shapes the notes I send on the wind, hoping an invisible thread will carry my message to Cosette.
I let my heartache flow through me, drenching my song in my desperation. My throat is sore when the sea witch rides in on her white horse, trotting onto the grassy bank above the beach.
I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been singing, but I doubt enough time has passed for her to have traveled this far by natural means.
