Hymn of Breath and Bone (The Whispering Sea Duet #2)

Chapter 26

I wasn’t sure how many hours passed as I paced my bedroom, testing the door every so often and finding it locked.

“You will never see that male again as long as I am alive,” my father had growled, dragging me to my room as my mother was escorted behind us by several guards.

“Nereus, please,” she’d pleaded.

“No more, Silene. This ends at dawn. Whatever magic that male has over Marina will end with his death.”

“Nereus, you have to listen—”

“No one comes in or out of this bedroom other than me,” my father commanded, speaking to one of the guards as he pulled me into my bedroom.

“Father, please—”

“I do this because I love you, Marina,” he interrupted, his face both fierce and compassionate, love and hatred warring in each line and angle. “I will break whatever magic he has holding you to his will. I will save the Isles from his curse.”

He whirled on my mother. “Take the queen to her chambers and lock her inside,” my father commanded. “Put all other guards on the prisoners.”

He whirled from my room, slamming the door behind him without heeding my protests or pleas.

And so he’d left me pacing and fretting and trying to think my way out of an impossible situation. Even worse, my lungs had begun to tickle again, an unpleasant sensation I hadn’t dealt with since before arriving in the Siren Cliffs. I silently cursed Vitulus for his part in my suffering.

I’d thought about trying to escape. There was a window, but the storm lashing outside and the occasional rocking of the keep from the earthquakes that shook its foundations made the climb precarious, if not deadly. I could call the sea, but that might flood the dungeons and drown both Caspian and Zephyr.

I sent out another call to the sea, begging her for help. She responded with a faint, impatient tug, as if she were waiting for something.

Without a solid plan or way to get out of my room, I paced.

Come dawn, I would have to brave the climb and try to stop my father before it was too late.

A part of me wanted to hate him. To hate him for his lies and his bigotry and his refusal to see the truth.

But another part of me knew that his fears were not entirely his own—that the fears of his father and grandfather before him, and the prejudice of five centuries of distrust and lost history, were to blame for his refusal.

I just needed a way to get him to see reason somehow. To believe that my mind was my own and that Caspian was a different kind of Siren King than his father. That we could be better, if we could only learn to trust one another.

A scraping at the window tore me from my thoughts. Without a solid plan, I grabbed the heaviest object I could reach—a candelabra wrought from mother-of-pearl—and held it above my head.

A face peered in at me through the darkness. A face with brown hair and a cheeky grin.

“Astraios?”

I put down the candelabra and threw a wall of wind at the door behind me, hoping both to keep it shut and block the sound from any interested guards who might be posted outside. Just in case it didn’t, I coughed loudly as I unlatched the window.

Sereia fell into the bedroom, followed by Astraios and a miniature downpouring of rain.

“Seas below, how did you get here?” I whispered, throwing my arms around my silver-haired friend.

Sereia hugged me back, wet and shivering but otherwise whole. I grabbed a seal skin to throw around her as Astraios shook water from his feathers, leaving great big puddles all over the stone floor.

“What, no hug for me?” he teased, wringing water from his hair.

Sereia and I shushed him in unison, and he gave us a bemused smile.

“You get a hug when you’ve explained,” I replied in a whisper, settling Sereia into the bed with another blanket around her. “How in the great sea are you here?”

“Well, you can thank your bloody kelpies for that,” Astraios murmured, giving Sereia a quick once-over before deciding she was warm enough.

“The kelpies?” I asked, looking around as if Ran might be hiding behind Astraios’ wings.

Phyll’s words came back to me then, when I had asked him where Rannoch was.

He is readying his herd.

“They wouldn’t leave us alone,” Sereia added, teeth chattering faintly and voice low. “About six hours after we parted ways, they appeared in Nordhavn stamping and whinnying.”

“Practically herded us toward the sea,” Astraios agreed, sitting next to Sereia on the bed. “We couldn’t speak with them, of course, since we don’t have your fancy goddess magic, but they were so insistent that we didn’t have much of a choice but to join them.”

“Seas, I love those kelpies,” I sighed, thinking of how Caspian would roll his eyes when I told him the kelpies saved him. “But wait…what about the Nordhavn selkies?” I’d been counting on their arrival to help bolster my arguments with my people, but if they didn’t come…

“Marella took charge of them,” Astraios replied. “The kelpies were water-logging her house, so she sent us away with them. Promised to follow.”

“How will she know to come here?” I asked. “You were supposed to sail south.”

“I have a strong feeling the kelpies have thought of that.” Astraios grinned as he threw an arm around Sereia to warm her. “I assume we’re here to rescue you? I can’t think of another reason your horsey friends would be so insistent.”

I sent out a prayer of thanks to the sea, who replied with that same impatient command to wait. I sent my awareness out and sensed the rushing forms of sea dragons swimming this way, as well as a burbling herd of kelpies at the shore, far enough away from the keep to not be seen.

The storm, it seemed, was a bit of a blessing after all. It hid Astraios and Sereia’s flight here, and it kept the kelpies hidden now.

“Yes,” I replied, relaying the story of our capture quickly and quietly while I mentally took stock of the tools at my disposal. I had the sea, although she was still busy and distracted. I had a small army of magical creatures on the way. I had Sereia, who knew the castle, and Astraios, who had a working pair of wings. “We need to get to the dungeons. Caspian and Zephyr are to be executed at dawn.”

“Fuck,” Astraios snarled, grin fading to something more menacing. He stood, shaking his wings once more. “Through the castle, or over it?”

“Over it. There are guards outside and throughout the dungeons.”

“How will we get them out if they’re constantly guarded?” Sereia asked, looking terrified at the idea.

“They’re guarded from the inside,” I replied, thinking quickly. “But not from the outside. I think I can sneak in through the same openings Caspian used to sneak me out.”

“Won’t your father have them guarded?” Astraios asked.

I shook my head. “The Stormcrow thinks you two are headed south, so he won’t waste guards on those exits.”

“Shame. I feel the need to punch something.”

I turned to Sereia, who had gone very pale at Astraios’ murderous tone. “I need you to stay here. Pretend to be me if any of the guards or my parents try to come in.”

“How will I do that?” Sereia balked, eyes widening.

“Wrap your hair up and lie under the covers.” I commanded. “Just pretend to be asleep. We’ll come back for you as soon as we can. Leave the window unlatched.”

“Seas, Marina, this is a terrible plan,” she moaned.

“I’m open to suggestions,” I hissed, feeling my patience fray. “But we’re running out of time, and I need to get to my mate.”

She flinched as I emphasized the word, eyes betraying her as they flicked to Astraios. His eyes did the same, but I didn’t have time to get into that drama and make them confess to each other. When this was all over, they could have a lavish handfasting for all I cared.

I gathered up anything in my room I thought might be useful: the empty water cup I kept by my bed, an extra seal skin for protection from the cold, a ribbon, a handful of hairpins, and the ornamental dagger I wore for ceremonial occasions. It was made of nacre and would likely shatter if I tried to stab anyone with it, but I felt better with a blade on me. I put them in a satchel and slung the bag over my shoulder, ready for battle as I bade farewell to my childhood bedroom.

I wouldn’t be coming back here.

“Let’s go,” I commanded, opening the window and barely stopping it from cracking against the stone as the shutters blew wide. I climbed out, already frozen to the bone as I let them have a moment for farewells. I heard the murmuring behind me, anxious to get going and rapidly losing patience with them. Was this how Zephyr felt about me and Cas?

There was no point in trying to block the wind or rain with my magic as I stood on the slippery roof—we needed their cover to fly unseen to the dungeons. Astraios grunted as he squeezed back through the window after me, clambering up next to me and spreading his wings wide.

“Hold tight,” he commanded, “and give me precise directions so I can fly as quickly as possible.”

I grabbed his neck as he launched skyward, pulling the clouds and mist toward us to shield us from sight as much as I could. No sounds of alarm went up from the keep, and within minutes we were hovering before the dungeon tower.

The windows were all dark, and I swore. “We’ll have to start from the bottom and check each one,” I hissed over the roar of the sea and the storm.

Astraios nodded, bringing us closer to the base of the tower. I assumed Caspian would be high up, but we’d need to check each level to be sure.

The first three floors appeared uninhabitable, filled with kelp and debris brought in by high tide. The next two appeared damp, but empty. Finally, on the sixth level, I caught a glimpse of blue-green shining from a corner of the cell.

Caspian’s sea dragon scale.

He saw me, amber eyes widening with shock as I motioned for him to remain quiet. I didn’t see any guards, and I prayed that they were stationed outside the iron door of the hall of cells.

“This one,” I hissed, pointing toward the floor below the slitted window. I recognized the grate on the outside of the wall that was used for debris, and I motioned to the nails embedded in the stone. “We need to loosen this.”

Astraios grunted, taking his dagger from his sheath and handing it to me. “Keep it until you’re out,” he commanded, as I went to work prying away the nails that held the grate in place.

I had never asked, but Caspian must have loosened all the grates as a backup plan when he first kidnapped me. This grate was barely attached to the wall, and it made a heavy thunk as it fell from the wall, hitting the rocks below.

“Can you fit?” Astraios asked skeptically. “Your hips—”

“I’ll be fine,” I snapped, glaring at Astraios who grinned back at me. “Give me a shove.”

Wriggling through the opening was not painless, and I wondered how Caspian had managed it with two broken wings and my dead weight in tow. It took a minute for me to get free of the stone, and I found Caspian staring at me with wide eyes, his lip twitching.

“Do not laugh,” I hissed, throwing another shield of wind toward the end of the corridor to block any sound or entry.

Caspian’s wings were horribly mangled, bent again at unnaturally painful angles. “Seas,” I breathed, rushing forward and sticking my hands between the iron bars of his cell. “Your poor wings.”

“I’m alright,” Caspian grunted, face contorting in momentary pain as he shifted his body to press against the bars.

The cold iron sucked at my magic as I pressed against them from the outside, but I didn’t care as I cupped his face with my hands.

“Marina?” hissed a pained, female voice. I glanced over to the next cell and found Zephyr, looking less surprised to see me than Caspian. “About time you came to rescue us.”

My laugh became a sob as I pressed my forehead to Caspian’s through the iron bars.

He shifted so his lips, dry from a lack of drinking water, were pressed to mine. The kiss was woefully inadequate, but the best we could manage with iron between us.

“How did you get here, Urchin?” he murmured when we finally broke apart. “Skies, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

“Astraios flew me,” I replied, still holding back tears.

“Astraios? How?”

“It’s a long story, but you can thank the kelpies.”

“I absolutely will not,” Caspian grumbled, and I stifled another sob-laugh as I pulled my arsenal of knickknacks out of my satchel.

I pulled water from the storm to fill the cup and held it to his lips. He drank deeply, pulling away only when the water was completely gone, and I refilled it for Zephyr. Her hands were bound before her, likely because my father and Vitulus underestimated her.

Good.

“Did Vitulus help you?” Caspian asked, making me blink in surprise as I pulled the ribbon and hair pins toward me.

“No. Why would he?” I coughed, and Caspian frowned.

“What happened to your medicine?”

“Vitulus smashed it on the ship,” I explained. “He thought you were drugging me.”

Caspian sighed dramatically, resting his head on the stone behind him. “I owe you ten gold coins, Zephyr. And I’ll likely have to kill the bastard.” When I looked expectantly at him, he added, “He was eavesdropping on our chat with the Stormcrow. I was hoping it might be enough to turn him.”

“He might have gone to my father,” I suggested as I began bending the hairpins. “I haven’t seen him since…seas, was it only this morning that everything happened? This day is endless.”

Caspian chuckled. “I don’t mean to criticize, my love, but how exactly are you going to rescue us with hairpins?”

I gave him a withering look. “Never doubt the effectiveness of hairpins.”

I moved to work on the padlock holding the cell door closed, both Zephyr and Caspian watching me interestedly as I worked. “It’s a shame you didn’t think to hide lock picks in all these cells when you came to kidnap me.”

“Next time,” Caspian grinned as the padlock clicked open. “Have I told you how sexy it is that you know how to pick a lock?”

“Spare me,” Zephyr grumbled, as I laughed and moved to Caspian’s back to pick his cuffs.

“I had a lot of practice breaking into the archives as a child,” I commented as the cuffs sprang free.

We were doing this. I was going to get them out.

Caspian hissed in pain as his magic filled him. I knew his wings would begin to heal, and I quickly moved to reset the bones.

“Wait,” Caspian rumbled, pulling me back to sit in his lap and clasping my face with his hands. His wrists were red from the iron, but I didn’t have time to inspect the damage as he pulled me into a searing embrace, his tongue chasing mine as he took a minute to relearn me after days of separation.

“As much as I hate to interrupt you,” Zephyr hissed next door, “I’m still chained up here.”

“And we’re going to stay chained up,” Caspian said, pulling away from me and putting his hands behind his back again. “Put the cuffs back, Urchin.”

“What? Have you gone mad?” I pressed my hand to his forehead and he shook me off with a wry laugh.

“No, I think I finally have some clarity.” He raised a hand to cup my cheek, stroking a thumb over my cheekbone. “If we run with you now, Marina—and that’s assuming that Astraios can somehow fly us all down and your kelpie friends can escape without us being spotted—then we solve nothing. The war will continue, we’ll be fugitives running both from your father and the Stormcrow without a ship or crew to help us, and the peace and unity we promised will never come to be.”

“But we’ll be alive!” I argued. “I don’t care about peace and unity right now, Cas. I care about you keeping your head on your neck.”

“I’m going to side with Marina on this one,” Zephyr chimed in.

Caspian shook his head, his face a mask of maddening calm.

“Leave me with a dagger—something better than that flimsy thing you brought—and your ingenious hairpins,” he commanded. “Zephyr can pick my cuffs when the time is right.”

“And then what?” I asked, panic mixing with exasperation at my perfect, handsome, noble, idiotic mate. “How will you escape while surrounded by enemies who want to decapitate you?”

“I won’t,” Caspian said calmly. “You’ll save me.”

He explained his plan, which was really more of an amendment to the plan we had first concocted in Nordhavn.

“It will be close,” I worried, biting my lower lip.

Caspian brushed my lip with a thumb, pulling it out from between my teeth. “I have faith that it will be spectacular,” Caspian assured me. “Now lock me back up, Urchin.”

I groaned, acquiescing and hissing to Astraios to throw his dagger through the grate to me. I shoved it down Caspian’s boot and gave the pins to Zephyr, who secreted them away in a hidden pocket in her waistband—something I would absolutely need sewn into all of my gowns and trousers from now on. “My father really shouldn’t have let you keep your clothes.”

“And scandalize his guards? Never,” Caspian drawled as I locked his hands back into place behind his back. He couldn’t hide his wince as magic fled him again, but at least this gave us more time to set his wings properly.

“If you’d never met me, you would have been saved a lot of pain,” I murmured, frowning at the broken, bloody feathers that were once again my fault.

“Urchin, look at me.” Caspian turned, kneeling before me with his gaze fierce on mine. “I would rather die tomorrow than live a thousand lives without you. You are the best part of me. The greatest gift I have ever received. And everything that has happened to me was meant to happen, to get us here. Together.”

“But if I fail—”

“Then my life will still have been better for knowing you. For loving you.” Caspian pressed his forehead to mine, and I shifted on my knees so he didn’t have to stoop. “You are Marina, queen of sirens and selkies, mate of the Siren King, and daughter of sea and sky. You will not fail.”

I nodded, letting my tears fall as Caspian sang.

So sing of sea and sky, my love,

The tale a sweet lullaby.

A story of old, a dream so bold,

The ballad of sea and sky.

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” I teased, wiping a tear away as he finished on a final, quavering note.

“It’s sickening,” Zephyr chimed in, reminding us she was still there and listening.

“Only for you, Urchin,” Caspian laughed, brushing his lips across mine one last time. “Go ready your troops for battle.”

“Don’t die tomorrow,” I commanded, refusing to let his gentle kiss be our last as I pressed another to his lips. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Caspian chuckled as I rose and locked his cell again, the clunk of the door sounding like a death knell.

“Tomorrow, Urchin. Kill me tomorrow.”