Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The mermen lunged toward Mal. Phillip released her hand to raise his sword. Mal raised her hands. Her magic faltered.
The sting of iron filled the air. Its bite seeped into her like venom, dulling her magic and slowing her movements. She was surrounded by stone—no soil, no roots to draw from. The castle was barren of life.
The walls were adorned with artwork. There were ornate tapestries depicting fields of wildflowers and groves of ancient trees. The drawings were pretty but did her no good.
Her eyes landed on the decorative vases arranged near the dais. The flowers inside were brittle and dry. The best they would do was crumble to dust at contact.
And then she felt it.
Beneath the stone floor, deep in the cracks where light never touched, she sensed moss clinging to life, fed by the faintest moisture. Beyond the walls, ivy crept along the castle's outer facade, its tendrils slowly finding their way into forgotten crevices. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Mal extended her hand toward the floor. Her magic was like a whisper at first. The moss responded, its tendrils unfurling with startling speed, snaking through the cracks and creeping toward the room.
The ivy answered her call, its delicate tendrils bursting through the window frames, curling inward with surprising strength.
The first merman advanced, his trident flashing. Mal ducked low, narrowly avoiding the strike, and thrust her hand forward. Vines erupted into the room, wrapping around his legs and yanking him off balance. He hit the ground with a crash, his trident clattering out of reach.
Phillip’s blade flashed in the torchlight as he engaged another merman.
Their weapons clashed with a deafening clang.
Phillip's sword sliced through the air with precision, fending off each trident strike that came his way.
The mermen were strong, well-trained, and relentless, but Mal and Phillip moved as a single force.
From the throne, Aurora and Ariel watched with a twisted sort of glee, lazily picking at a platter of fruit and small cakes as if the battle were nothing more than a passing amusement.
Mal’s anger flared. She forced herself to stay focused, her mind sharp even as the iron weighed her down.
She reached deeper into the room. Her magic latched on to the wooden beams overhead, calling to the ancient timber.
It groaned, a low, ominous creak that filled the chamber.
The mermen paused, their fishlike eyes flicking upward.
With a flick of her wrist, a beam splintered free, crashing down onto two of them, knocking them unconscious.
The furniture answered next. A heavy chair slid across the floor. It rammed into a merman and pinned him against the wall. A table’s legs twisted unnaturally, tripping another as he tried to retreat. Phillip stood over the last fallen merman, breathing heavily, a smudge of blood on his cheek.
“Why,” Aurora sneered, her voice dripping with venom, “won’t you just die and leave me in peace?”
Phillip sheathed his sword. “You’re in my castle, Aurora. I’m giving you a chance to leave now and go home. There’s no need for any more of this.”
“This is my home now, Phillip. I already redecorated. Or didn't you notice the new draperies?”
Ariel rose from her seat, her movements fluid and graceful, like waves rolling across the sea. She opened her mouth and made a hissing sound. The hisses were words. Unintelligible words that Mal couldn't understand.
But Phillip could.
His expression shifted. His eyes grew vacant. His movements became mechanical as he turned toward her.
“Phillip…?”
The eyes that were always warm eyes stared through her, empty and cold.
His fist swung toward her, catching her off guard. She dodged just in time. His knuckles grazed her cheek. Mal backed up, disbelief mingling with the pain.
This was Phillip, her Phillip. And yet he was gone, as though he was caught under a siren's call. Mal had heard stories of such creatures, but she'd always thought they were myths.
“Phillip, snap out of it. I don't want to hurt you."
He didn’t respond. Instead, he lunged at her again with the same vacant, hollow stare. Each strike he threw was jerky, like a puppet being controlled by invisible strings.
“Phillip!” she cried, ducking another strike. “Fight it—please, you’re stronger than this.”
His movements faltered. A flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes. Ariel’s voice hissed through the air again, the haunting melody sealing her hold on him.
"You love me," cried Mal.
"I do love you." He threw another punch.
"You promised you'd never hurt me."
"Am I hurting you, Mal?"
"Yes!"
Mal steeled herself, her heart aching as she made her choice. With a deft move, she ducked beneath his next strike and yanked the sword from its sheath. The weight of the blade in her hands was a reminder of everything they stood to lose.
She took a step back, her gaze locking with his for what felt like a lifetime.
“I love you,” she said, her voice steady even as her heart fractured. "You're my reason for living."
Phillip lunged toward her. Mal’s arm snapped forward. The blade whistled through the air, aimed not at him, but past him. It struck true.
A piercing scream ripped through the throne room as the sword buried itself in the throne. From the blade fell a curtain of blond hair… and the remnants of Aurora's ear.
Ariel’s haunting melody broke into a discordant shriek as her control shattered. Aurora's hands cupped what was left of her ear.
Phillip staggered as the siren’s hold released its grasp. His eyes cleared, the vacancy replaced with horror as he took in the scene before him. “Mal…” he croaked, his voice raw.
"I told you I'd take her hair if she made a play for you."