Chapter 7
Lingering in a peaceful oblivion where past and future did not exist, where neither dream nor memory resided, stillness was the only occupant of my mind.
The first thought that pulled me out of the nothingness was how the sand felt like mud underneath my aching body. Then, I was uncomfortably aware that I was being caressed. Not by hands, but by the gentle lap of waves as they rolled in and out of the nearby ocean.
My head pounded, my right arm prickled, and my throat burned for water. Something had happened, but, like willing myself to recall a dream, the more I tried to grasp the memory, the more it evaded me.
Overhead, I heard seagulls calling, probably curious about the bodies that had washed up on their turf.
Bodies.
My eyes shot open as I remembered the figure nestled into my chest. The steady up and down movement of breath told me that she was still alive. Relief flooded me, but it was short-lived.
Where were we?
The moment I had spotted land, hours before, I had labored towards it, desperate to find relief for my aching muscles. Once I had used every last reserve of energy I possessed to haul us both to shore, the plan of action was irrefutable—rest first, ask questions later.
The extended use of my powers had also taken its toll on me physically. I was depleted and I wouldn’t be able to use magic again until my powers had been restored.
Exhausted, my body had given out seconds after I expelled my tail. My mind had tumbled into unconsciousness shortly afterwards.
How many hours had it been?
With heavy eyelids, I scanned the deserted beach around us. The sun had not come out yet, and a single star remained in the pewter sky, as if not quite ready for sleep. Behind us, the ocean was calm and peaceful—a far cry from the malevolent beast unleashed mere hours before.
Now, it reached for me, its waves whispering of home. Remembering my bargain, I ignored it as my eyes continued to roam.
All around, the beach was littered with fragments of the ship’s wreckage.
The little girl shivered slightly against my body.
Although I was shivering myself, I took pity on her.
Her fragile, mortal body looked no older than twelve and yet she had come alarmingly close to death.
I felt a strange compulsion to keep her safe, as if she were a wounded baby bird.
But what could I do? Nurturing was as foreign to me as the mortal in my arms.
Warmth. She obviously needs warmth. Wearing nothing but my undergarments, I didn’t have a stitch of clothing to warm her up with… The dress! I had a dress in the leather pouch that, thankfully, was still hanging dutifully from my shoulders.
Careful not to disturb the sleeping girl, I sat up and shrugged off the pouch. One peek into its contents showed me the linen frock was, predictably, soaking wet. I needed to find something else to wrap her in.
Scanning the shoreline, all I found was a jumble of debris, defaced wood and some torn fishing net.
Further up the beach was a formation of rocks that looked dry. At least over there she would escape the sting of the water’s chill.
Using all the strength I could muster, I lifted the girl and moved her to the rocks. With a grunt, I placed her gently on the coarse sand. I removed the drenched garment from the pouch and laid it across one of the rocks in the hopes that the light breeze would be enough to dry it.
I should go find help. I should’ve tried to decipher exactly where we were. But the resounding protest coming from my mind and body was impossible to ignore.
Lightheaded and bone-tired, I curled up to the child. All I could offer her was my body heat.
Another glance at the sky, now basted with hues of pink and orange, told me the sun was on the precipice of rising.
With fantasies of its rays beaming against my pebbled flesh, I lay my head against the mattress of cool sand and closed my eyes, allowing sleep to lure me back into nothingness.
***
“Are you alright, Miss?” I was stirred from my dreamless sleep by the sound of a male voice above me.
Straining to open my eyes, I blinked once. Twice. Three times.
The figure of an elderly mortal man came into view. Squinting up at him, I raised a hand to shield my eyes against the glare of the early morning sunshine. There was concern on the age-lined features of his face. Concern, and embarrassment.
With colossal effort, I sat up and squinted at the man who would not look at me. Was I that much of an eyesore?
The man cleared his throat and spoke again. “Are you alright?”
“I’m grand,” I said flatly, massaging the ache in my neck.
He met my eye, then quickly looked away again, patches of red tinting his hollow cheeks.
Realization hit me: I was in my undergarments. I’d heard mortals held more conservative attitudes towards bodies than Velcarin did. Clearly my body was making the old man uncomfortable. I supposed I had better clothe myself if I wanted any chance at a productive conversation.
With a sigh, I reached for the dress perched across the rock.
It was still saturated, but I pulled it over my head while the man began prattling on about how he had been returning home after a disastrous morning, when he happened upon the two of us lying on the beach.
He held a shabby pouch and some sort of fishing net with stone sinkers.
His worn trousers and shoes were wet. This man was obviously a fisherman.
“Where are we?” I asked, interrupting his nervous chatter.
“On the outskirts of Barvik,” he replied, only meeting my gaze once I was appropriately covered.
Thank the goddesses. From my extensive geography lessons, I knew that Barvik was the capital of Solvardunn. I could have kissed the ground in relief that the currents hadn’t led me astray.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
What had happened? Knowing full well I couldn’t tell the truth and break the terms of my agreement with the Crow, I decided to go with a vague, but not entirely inaccurate version of events.
“A shipwreck.” My voice sounded hoarse, reminding me of how thirsty I was.
“And you swam all the way to shore?” he asked, incredulous.
I nodded. To a mortal, it would be an incredible feat. Admittedly, in the aftermath of clashing with the storm, the sprint to land had been both challenging and humbling. It had gotten dark, especially towards the end.
All things considered, it was an incredible feat.
“It took us hours to get here,” I added for good measure.
His eyes widened. “You must be exhausted.”
“I am.” I gestured to my new ward, still sleeping on the sand. “Can you find help? Urgently?”
“Of course. Yes.” He nodded as if only just remembering the child. “The edge of the city is not far from here. I’ll get help.”
He offered me a flask from his pouch, which I wholeheartedly accepted. The water was lukewarm, but my mouth, dry as parchment, relished it all the same. Tempted as I was to drain every last drop, I saved some for the child. She was going to need it.
My eyes followed the man retreating away from the beach. He walked with a slight limp, which slowed his pace.
I settled myself in for a long wait. If he did indeed bring back help, I’d see to it that he never went home with an empty net again. After I’d broken the curse on Vantillios, of course.
To pass the time, I took in my surroundings. The beach had a rugged, rocky landscape that stretched for miles on either side. Behind us were dunes that were part-sand, part-grass. It was so unlike the flat, unblemished shores of Vantillios.
The fisherman had made his way up one of the dunes to a pathway shrouded in bushes. In fact, all the dunes led to dense bushes stretching out to the surrounding bluffs that made this strip of beach quiet and secluded. It was a wonder we were discovered.
Biting my lip, I contemplated the sleeping girl lying next to me. Her presence was an unanticipated setback. I prayed to the goddesses that someone would be able to reunite this child with her family. And quickly, so I could get on with my task.
Speaking of which, what had happened to the prince? Had he been amongst those who fled on a lifeboat? I certainly hoped he’d made it. As the Crow said, there’d be no undoing the curse without Prince Tarben.
The storm had been a cataclysmic disaster that I’d been completely unprepared for.
In the aftermath, I couldn’t help but second guess my decision to come here.
Was this all a mistake? Should I return to Vantillios and abandon what could very possibly be a fool’s errand?
Tail between my legs, I could beg for forgiveness and spend the remainder of my long-life atoning for my actions.
Eventually, I would be forgiven and things would return to exactly how they were.
How they were.
No. I refused to return to a life imprisoned and isolated from the rest of the world. I needed to see this through. If I didn’t, my subjects would think I was incapable of seducing one mortal man. I could never live with the shame.
The little girl stirred, pulling me out of my thoughts. Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly blinked. When, at last, her gaze met mine, her eyes filled with fear as she tried to sit up.
I panicked, realizing that I didn’t know how to speak to her. I had hardly spent any time with children, including when I was one myself.
“It’s alright,” I said with forced gentleness. As slowly as if I was talking to someone who did not speak the common tongue, I said, “You are safe.”
She looked around the boulder-bestrewn beach in a daze. “Where am I?”
“Outside of Barvik. After the shipwreck, I pulled you out of the ocean and swam you back to shore.” I waved my arms in a swimming motion. When it occurred to me how ridiculous I must have looked, I let my arms drop to my sides. “We ended up on this beach. Here, drink this.” I handed her the flask.
A furrow formed between her fair brows. I continued in that over-the-top gentle voice, “It’s alright, it’s only water. You need to drink; your body will be dehydrated.”