Speed I didn’t know I could achieve makes my blood pump through my veins and warms my chilled body. The rain is falling again, pelting my skin as I pull myself up on top of the crate. Immediately, it dips, so I slide back into the water and use my hands to guide myself closer to Erik.
The waves seem to help more than hinder me. When I finally reach his side, I grab onto Erik’s leg, my webbed fingers a very odd comparison to the wet denim he is wearing, and pull with all my might. He doesn’t budge.
I can’t tell if he is still alive. He has no gills, and the constant bobbing makes it impossible to see whether or not his chest moves.
I want to scream, but, of course, no sound comes from my mouth.
I pull again, this time anchoring my legs against the side of the crate and using their pitiful muscles to help me pull. Slowly, the captain inches across the ridges on the edge. Little by little, he moves, and then all at once.
When he finally slides into the water, I am gasping for breath. Relentless seawater sprays my face from below as torrents of rainwater drench me from above.
Growing up, I always thought water was water. As a Mer, it was my life force. As much as part of me as I was a part of it. That is no longer the case. It turns out that water is not your friend as a mortal; it is thicker and more sinister—a carrier of death and doom.
Water can be frightening in ways I had previously only associated with my father.
I pull Erik close and pray to any gods who will hear me.
Even if I haven’t been granted power, and what little I might have had is stripped away in this form, help me. Help us. Please.
I think of the Ice Mer King—of my father—and I think of his parents. I don’t know their names… but surely they will hear me. They have to hear me.
I stretch out my webbed hand and mouth a hoarse incantation. To my shock, my hand sends a ripple. My fingers tingle. Even though I am mute, the ocean has passed on my call.
When Erik’s warm shallow breaths tickle the base of my throat, my breath hitches. I tell myself it is just because I am glad for the proof he still lives. But that doesn’t explain the warmth in my stomach.
Moments pass, and then a salmon shark arrives. The little magic that miraculously tore through me has now left me exhausted. My heart stutters, fear running through me as I doubt whether the small shark will be able to pull us both. When I grab onto the dorsal fin, the surprisingly powerful creature shoots straight toward the ship. I can barely hold on as we shoot through the water like a bullet.
Erik’s body is cold, but somehow it molds perfectly to my own. Do all men fit this well? One thought of Conrad makes my body lock up.
When we arrive at the ship, the deck has evened out. I search frantically for the rope, but it’s nowhere to be seen. My stomach seizes, but it releases as I see a small lifeboat being lowered. It is a terribly dangerous move in the still-tumultuous sea, but less dangerous than sending someone down to get us. When I scan along the ship’s surface, I spot Jean Luc.
Relief, warm and comforting, floods me just as my limbs weaken further. Exhaustion is a heavy weight, pressing down on my limbs, and I can barely keep my head above water.
For one second, I consider giving in. I could let my head bob under the surface and let this body shrivel. Surely the crew would be close enough to grab Erik. It is not as though anyone would miss me. My father sent me away, Elva has been cut out of my life, and most of these men don’t care either way.
In a funny way, it would be like returning home.
Before I can continue down the path of these deadly thoughts, a sailor begins to yell at me.
“Get in!”
Another screams at me, his face red with anger, “He needs heat! Hold him closer!”
I realize that neither of them are angry at me. They are angry that Erik almost died. Hands grab at me, and all thoughts of death vanish. It’s strange how deeply ingrained the desire to survive is. My brain sees the outstretched hands as invitations. I help lift the unconscious captain into the boat before I wrap myself around him as best I can. Our chests are pressed together, and I can feel his heartbeat. I turn to see the shark disappear below the surface again.
“Thank every god that has ever looked down upon us that you were here, Maddie,” the angry one says.
Again, more warmth. It feels like a blow to the heart.
The boat hitches, and then we ascend. When we reach the top, one man asks, “Would you like help?” I nod, and then his warm hands are around me. It’s getting harder to stay awake now that my body knows it’s safe. The sailor pulls me out, and two more men grab Erik.
“Get the captain below deck,” one of them barks. “Immediately!”
Jean Luc comes over to the captain and then looks at me. “Are you all right?”
I nod weakly, grasping at his words to make sense of them.
“Can you walk?” Jean Luc asks, and I nod again. “Good. Anders and I will take you to your room.”