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

Chapter 27

It would have been far more poetic for the morning of my execution to dawn cold and clear, rather than the stormy, foggy grayness that held the islands in its fist as we were marched out of the keep and to the beach.

It was still fairly dark, the sun having not made its ascent over the horizon, and the five hundred stairs to the beach were slippery in the lashing storm.

I thanked the skies for it.

None of the guards had checked my boots nor Zephyr’s trousers, thank the skies, and I could sense the tension thrumming through her as we waited for Marina to make her move.

I had a backup plan, of course, although it wouldn’t be pretty. Worst case scenario, I’d attempt to overpower my guards and do enough damage with the dagger for at least Zephyr to get away.

I really hoped it wouldn’t come down to the worst case though.

Marina had allies. She had friends she could trust. She had the sea and the sky at her beck and call.

It would be enough.

The Selkie King, his advisors, a small battalion of guards, and Vitulus were all assembled on the beach around a stone slab that was angled toward the sea. The executioner’s block, I realized, noting the brown stain on the stone that even the rain couldn’t erase.

Ilya waited several feet away looking somewhat put out. Based on his impatient expression, I assumed he hadn’t been paid his fortune yet, although I supposed he was just anxiously awaiting the joy of witnessing my death.

His cronies must be divided between the ship and the beach. Only a handful stood with him, and I noticed that none of the sirens had joined him ashore, likely because of the prejudices of the selkies.

The selkie guards kept glancing toward the motley group, looking nervous as they twitched their spears in anticipation of defending their king should the villainous crew turn on him. Vitulus, standing as still and stoic as a statue, was armed to the teeth, ready to defend his people and his king as if a whole siren army were approaching, rather than two chained prisoners.

I wondered if the weapons were for me or the Stormcrow. Hopefully, he had taken Ilya at his word and prepared his soldiers for treachery on that front. Although perhaps it hadn’t been necessary, based on how many nervous glances the Stormcrow received.

Somewhere, likely from the surrounding cliffs based on their echoes, drums began beating a steady rhythm. Despite the fact that no music accompanied them—and the fact that they were heralding my execution—the sound was oddly soothing, like the heartbeat of the island itself.

As they marched us toward death, more selkies began to crest the beach, gathered in the hundreds to watch the spectacle.

As if on cue, a rumbling shook the beach as a crack of lighting hit the sand before us, nature itself seeming to writhe in protest at what was about to be done. The waves crashed so high, they momentarily submerged the executioner’s block, and the king and his advisors stepped back as if in fear.

“The gods are angered,” came a shrill voice from a hooded figure loud enough for all assembled to hear. A priestess, I assumed, cursing our luck. Priestesses were generally bad news, always trying to interpret signs to make whoever ruled them happy, without actually caring for their true meaning. “They will not be satisfied until our enemy is dead.”

I wanted to shout that it was a lie, and I tried to get the words out around the gag to no avail. A guard hit me in the back of the head, making me hiss as I jolted my broken wings.

The drums beat faster and louder as we were pushed forward, the points of spears at our backs.

“Silence!” commanded the king, holding up his hands to the crowd. The drums stopped beating, a hush falling over the crowd as Zephyr and I were ushered toward the stone.

The king looked at me, his eyes full of fury. “For the crimes of kidnapping the Selkie Princess, of waging war on my peoples and islands, of killing selkies and stealing from our shores, I sentence you, King Caspian of the Sirens, to death.” There was a murmuring from the crowd, a mixture of judgment and fear as they condemned me without evidence.

“It is our tradition that those sentenced to death have the honor of their last words being judged by the sea,” the king intoned, speaking more to his people than to me. “Speak your final words, Siren King, and pray the sea has mercy on your soul.”

The gag was pulled down by a guard behind me as I was pushed forward, my hands still chained behind my back, to kneel before the stone block.

I knew I was only granted this privilege because I was chained in iron, my song magic nullified, and I couldn’t waste it. Marina had maybe a minute to appear. Less, if the furious gleam in her father’s eye was any indication.

Lightning flashed again, and I closed my eyes against its brightness as I contemplated what to say to both give Marina more time and convince her father that I wasn’t his enemy.

“For the crime of kidnapping the Princess, I gladly admit my guilt,” I said, the king’s eyes hardening as they met mine. They were a darker blue than Marina’s—an angry, violent sea compared to her calming depths. “But for the other charges against me, I claim no guilt. You have no evidence of these crimes because they were invented to sow fear of my people in the hearts of yours.”

There was a murmuring from the crowd that sounded like confusion, and then the king’s fury deepened. A mist had begun to seep across the beach, curling around the ankles of the onlookers like cats slinking around their legs, and the sight of it spurred me on. “I do not apologize for the crime of loving your daughter. Of loving my mate. If I die today, it is with the knowledge that she has blessed my short existence, and I would kidnap her again if it meant finding her only to die at her father’s hands.”

The murmuring grew as the mist deepened, fog rolling in from nowhere amid the lashing rain and thunder. The king waved a hand before his face, trying to dissipate the mist as he drew his sword from its sheath, and a spear to my back forced my face to the stone.

“Your lies condemn you,” hissed the Selkie King. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ilya smirk and Vitulus tighten his hold on his spear. “And now you will die.”

Just as he lifted his sword, a dense cloud of fog fell upon the beach. The crowd emitted startled cries as I felt the spear pulled away from me, muffled shouts and the clash of swords coming from the guards.

Astraios, I hoped, knocking out the guards nearest us.

“No one will die today,” cried Marina, voice clear and calm as her arms encircled me. I felt water splash my legs as Marina’s wings, formed from the sea itself and sculpted with air to resemble those of a siren, shielded me from her father’s blade.

Behind me, a hiss and a neigh drew the eyes of the crowd, who gasped and stepped back. Though I couldn’t turn to see, I knew that a herd of kelpies and sea dragons had emerged from the ocean to guard Marina’s back.

The clouds parted, the storm pausing unnaturally as the sun broke through to cast us in a golden glow. The sea dragons encircled us with their great sinewy bodies and separated Marina’s father, Vitulus, and the Stormcrow from the rest of the crowd, who continued gasping and crying out in alarm as the storm and fog formed a vortex around us.

Selkies in the crowd reached out to touch the walls of the storm, some sticking their hands through and pulling them back soaked and shaking. Several fled into the storm to escape the sea dragons, but more dropped to their knees in awe at the magic at work in their princess.

Whether it was all Marina’s magic, or the work of the gods, I didn’t know. It felt like divine intervention when the first rays of weak dawn sunlight caressed my cheek, and I grinned. “You’re late.”

“Feathery ass,” Marina hissed fondly, pressing a kiss to my ear.

“We’re right on time, actually,” Astraios drawled, stepping up beside me and drawing his sword. Zephyr released her cuffs and moved to work on mine as Sereia, looking absolutely terrified, joined Astraios and brandished a small, ornamental knife in the direction of the selkie king.

Astraios looked at her like she was the sun itself.

I turned, finally free from the iron, to look at my mate, her eyes a blazing sea green as she flared her wings of water behind us. Heedless of the crowd and the sea dragons and Astraios and Sereia and the king, I bent and kissed her fiercely.

My magic swept through us, our joined lips a conduit of power flowing between and around us. I felt the wind greet me with a gentle breeze as it circled us, my broken wings protesting as they began to heal.

The whole island seemed to sigh in relief, the sea and sky relaxing into a tranquil peace as the storm abated outside the ring of calm. The rain ceased, the fog lifted, and though still overcast, the sun shone weakly as dawn finally broke.

The sea dragons began hissing an eerie song I understood through whatever magic Marina and I shared:

The daughter of sea and sky has awoken.

The son of wind and rain is free.

The hymn of breath and bone is spoken,

Hail Queen and King of Sky and Sea.

Over and over again, they repeated it like a prayer as a watery figure strode up next to me, and I groaned.

It's not done yet, Rannoch snorted, pawing the sand as the Selkie King backed away from us. Repay your debt, winged one.

How, exactly? I asked, Astraios on my left, Zephyr on my right, and Marina by my side as an equal, as it should always be.

A life for a life, replied the kelpie cryptically. A debt for a debt.

The king, Vitulus, and the Stormcrow were still herded together by the sea dragons, who bared their elongated fangs at the males any time one of them moved.

“What is this?” barked Marina’s father, looking around a blue, scaly hide with wide eyes at his daughter. I couldn’t tell if his fear was of the sea dragon or of her. “Stop this, Marina!”

Marina waved a hand, and the sea dragons retreated to her side like faithful pets, one of them bumping against my shoulder as it passed. I noticed a raw spot on its side, the same shape and color as the scale affixed to my pauldron. It met my eyes, hissed a greeting that must sound terrifying to anyone else listening, then lowered its scaly head to rest at my feet.

“She speaks to them!” I heard someone in the crowd cry out.

“She commands them!” another corrected.

“A goddess,” another breathed, pressing her head to the sand.

I raised a brow at Marina, who shrugged. She was enjoying this far too much.

“This is my birthright, Father,” Marina replied, her voice carrying on the wind across the tranquil beach. “My destiny, and Caspian’s. For five hundred years, our people have been divided by lies. It is time for the truth to be known.”

She raised her hand, and the fog on the sea cleared, revealing a ship that had not been there when we had begun our trek across the beach.

“They arrived about twenty minutes before dawn,” Astraios murmured. Relief swept through me as I saw several forms splashing and flying toward the beach. Marella waved from a distance as selkies and their siren mates sped toward us, Marina’s plan finally coming to fruition.

Thank the skies that the sea dragons were fast swimmers, and managed to bring them in time.

“She is still under his spell,” the Stormcrow shouted, his mask of irreverent calm slipping as he realized exactly how alone he was, surrounded by enemies and sea dragons. “Her friend as well.”

“And is my mother, locked like a prisoner in her room, under a spell?” Marina asked, eyes furious as she met her father’s gaze. “If we search the archives, will we find records of any selkies killed by siren hands in the last fifteen years? Of any attempts to open trade with the rest of the world thwarted by siren ships? If I bring you the selkies of Nordhavn,” she added, throwing an arm behind her at the approaching boats, “who will tell you that they have lived peacefully for centuries with their siren mates, will you think they are ensorcelled too? Or how about the Siren Princess, exiled and abandoned, whose selkie mate was killed by his own father? Would you rather I die too, Father, than be with my true mate?”

The crowd had gone very quiet, watching the dramatic tableau unfold. Selkies breached the waves as sirens alighted beside them, and they stood side-by-side and hand-in-hand with their mates as they approached.

Marella stood hand-in-hand with her siren mate as she led the group forward with the unflinching confidence of a general.

She had been the first we had asked to join our mad plan in Nordhavn, and the first to agree. Astraios and Sereia had stayed behind to rally support and bring them south to the cliffs.

It was this part of the plan we had altered the night before, sending the sea dragons out to relay our plea for help on the isles and pull the ship faster than it could sail with the winds alone.

It was a miracle they had arrived in time. Or perhaps it was divine providence. I didn’t care as I took in the assembling peoples and listened to the gasps and murmurings of the selkies who were slowly realizing they had been lied to.

“Ask them,” Marina challenged—begged—looking at her father with pleading in her eyes. “Before you execute us, ask them. If none confirm my story, then I welcome your blade.”

“I have no intention of taking my sword to you, Marina,” her father said, aghast. “To suggest such a thing—”

“That will be the outcome if you slaughter my mate,” she cried, clasping my hand in hers as we stepped as one toward him. “I shall not live in a world where he no longer breathes.”

The king’s sword lowered a fraction as he gaped at his daughter.

“The sea and sky, Undine and Zephrus, smile upon the selkies and sirens as a united people. Their daughter, Melusine, was born of both sea and sky. Both selkie and siren. Their love united the isles, and the love of another pair of mates tore them apart,” Marina said, looking up at my face with so much tender devotion that I could practically feel it humming along our mating bond. “And it is our love, mine and Caspian’s, that shall unite them again.”

Vitulus raised his spear, pointing it not at us, but at the Stormcrow.

“She does not lie,” Vitulus said, face just as steady and stoic as it had been as he watched the Stormcrow break my wings. I would never forgive him, for what he did to me or Marina, but if he helped us now, I could learn to live beside him. “I saw it myself, when you sent me to retrieve the Princess. And I heard his lies in the dungeons when he plotted to betray you as soon as the Siren King was dead. I cannot watch you make a fool’s bargain by trusting this male a moment longer, My King.”

The crowd murmured again, likely not in surprise at the Stormcrow’s betrayal, but at Vitulus’ harsh words to their king.

Better late than never, I supposed.

The Stormcrow looked down at the spear tip, still several feet from his heart, then up at Vitulus, and sighed. “Alas. I had such hopes that you were as thick-headed as you seemed, Captain.”

Ilya drew his sword so quickly that there was only time to react as he knocked Vitulus’ spear aside and slashed the blade across Vitulus’ chest. The captain staggered back, blood blooming across his dark skin.

The other guards surged forward, but they were too far to stop Ilya as he turned and aimed a killing blow at their king.

Instinct drove me as I surged forward, only one thought in my mind: A life for a life. A debt for a debt.

I dove, drawing Astraios’ dagger from my boot as I knocked the king aside and the Stormcrow’s blade plunged into my side.

The pain barely registered at first as the Stormcrow’s sword cleaved my flesh. I rolled out of the way and pressed my hand to the gaping wound, staggering to my feet lest Ilya strike a killing blow.

I heard Marina scream and felt her panic cloying down the bond as the shock of the injury released me. Searing agony threatened to tear me apart.

“He’s mine, Urchin!” I shouted as I felt, more than saw, her draw upon her magic. I threw up a wall of wind, determined to keep her as far away from the Stormcrow as possible. He could just as easily turn his blade on her, and I refused to risk her this close to victory. “Save the captain.”

Because Vitulus was there, bleeding out on the sand, as chaos broke out around us. I heard her curse at me as she obeyed. She likely could have dismantled my wall, but it would have taken time we didn’t have.

The relief I felt as she turned was short-lived.

“Foolish as ever, fledgling,” Ilya jeered. “You would give your life for your enemy’s? For the male who has hunted you and tried to kill you?”

My vision narrowed to only him, the pain making it difficult to focus on the crowd or the guards or even my mate. I knew Zephyr and Astraios had her. Would get her out if necessary. But this battle—this final fight—was mine alone.

“I would give my life for my mate’s father,” I spat back, tasting blood and knowing it was not a good sign. “So that she will not feel the pain of that loss as I have.”

“Cas!”

Someone was shouting, and I glanced up in time to catch the sword Astraios had thrown me, dropping his dagger and exchanging it for the longer blade.

Ilya snorted. “A pain that you inflicted on yourself. How long did you mourn, fledgling, after stabbing your own father in the heart?”

“I mourned for my mother,” I snapped, feeling his accusation hit its mark. My father had been dead to me for years before I killed him, but Marina’s could be redeemed. I would give her that if I could.

Moreover, I had realized, somewhat unconsciously, that the only way to convince the selkies that I wanted peace—that I craved the end of our war—was to save their king. Yes, it would be easier to rule at Marina’s side if she stood alone to take the crown, but it would not forge trust; would not build the fragile bonds I was trying to create between our people.

“You’ll join her soon,” the Stormcrow growled, going on the offensive and swinging his sword in a series of precise attacks that had me parrying desperately.

I was a skilled fighter, but the Stormcrow had always been better, and he knew it. He had not lost any of his skill in fifteen years of exile, and the grin that stole across his face as he began to wear me down told me he knew how this would end.

I slashed and stabbed and deflected, all the while sensing that Ilya was merely toying with me, waiting for the wound in my side to either render me dead, or injure me enough that he could deal the killing blow.

I heard Marina shouting my name faintly in the background, the sounds of battle and metal clashing against metal, and the roar of the sea in my ears as Ilya began to wear me down.

It would end here, on this beach with blood soaking the sand, the Silent Isles once again a place of bloodshed—of betrayal.

I was right back where I had been fifteen years before—fighting for my life before a male who had made me feel small and weak. Then, I had barely escaped with my life against my father’s blade and skill.

Nothing had changed.

No. That wasn’t right. Everything had changed.

I wasn’t just fighting for my people anymore. I was fighting for Marina’s people. For the Silent Isles. For my friends. For my mate, whose life and future were now tied irrevocably to my own.

I could not lose to the Stormcrow.

Ilya stabbed, his blade piercing the skin just below my pauldrons on my chest, another slash disarming me. Astraios’ blade splashed into the sea, the surf pooling around my boots as I sank to a knee and grabbed the wound with my opposite hand.

The sea dragon scale was sharp against my fingers as Ilya approached.

“It ends here, boy,” he growled. “You, on your knees, before your rightful king.”

Marina’s voice came to me then, cold and shivering from a dive she had taken what felt like weeks ago: When he asks for our help, we will answer. We protect our own.

My hand clamped over the scale on my shoulder as I reached my mind to our shared magic. To the sea.

I had beaten the Stormcrow once. I could do it again. And this time, I had help. I had Marina’s strength—her love and her magic—and I had the sea.

“I have to say, it’s been a disappointment.” Ilya raised his blade. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

“Always happy to disappoint,” I gritted out as the seven sea dragons I had called rose as one behind me, their needle-like teeth bared in feral snarls.

Ilya’s screams were cut short as blood painted the sand, spattering across my face as I rolled out from under the sea dragons’ bodies. They writhed in a killing frenzy, and Ilya was reduced to bloody meat and a discarded sword.

I lay in the shallow surf, side aching and heart thumping madly. I vomited on the sand as the sickening sounds of sea dragons feasting added to my misery, the world going black around the edges.

“You reckless idiot,” a familiar voice scolded as gentle hands closed over the wound in my side.

“It’s nothing, Urchin,” I croaked, lifting a bloody hand to cup her cheek. “Just a scratch.”

“You’re a shit actor,” she sobbed, the joke making me laugh and more blood burble from my wounds.

“He needs a healer,” another voice murmured. Sereia perhaps? It was becoming difficult to focus, and I let my face turn toward the sand as bodies and hands scrambled around me.

From my haze of pain, I saw the Selkie King, a look of horror on his face unlike anything I’d ever seen.

“Caspian!” Marina shouted, slapping my cheeks gently. “Don’t you dare pass out!”

“Get him to the keep,” an unfamiliar voice commanded. A female who both was and was not Marina swam in front of my vision, lighter skin and darker hair, her voice a deeper alto than Marina’s tinkling soprano. Marina’s mother.

“Hold on, Cas,” Marina whispered, pressing a kiss to my nose, then scrunching hers in distaste and spitting into the sand. “Seas, you’re covered in blood.”

“Ilya,” I rasped. “The sea dragons—”

“We saw.” She hushed me with a press of her lips to mine. I felt something warm and coppery dribble from my mouth, and she pulled away with red staining her lips. Blood. “You promised you wouldn’t die, and I’m holding you to it, like all of your other promises.”

I wanted to tell her that I’d try. That I loved her, and that meeting her was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to promise her the sun and the moon and the sky and a thousand years together as my blood dripped into the sand.

But as strong hands lifted me and pain shattered through me, I heard Marina cry out in agony, and then I heard no more.