Chapter 19
Chapter
The plan has become frighteningly simple:
She keeps breathing.
I endure the rest.
“Miss Sunday!” Frog yells, diving in after me. But whatever has a hold on me is moving fast, pulling me further and further away from the knight. Until, finally, the rubbery grip lets go, leaving me to float somewhere near the bottom.
I flail and kick, reaching for the surface, but I’m in too deep. And the water is too dark. All I can see is the absence of withered white flowers—a desert of wet sand where there should be a forest of green. And all that remain of the Sirens’ secret pockets are their stems, cut clean in half.
I reach for one when a dark green figure cuts past me forcing me to scream and waste what little air I still have in my lungs.
A scorching fire burns in my chest as I kick and turn in the water, my limbs fighting tirelessly against its pulling weight until I see them—a pair of bright golden eyes with onyx slits down their center, watching me as I struggle.
The fear of drowning is all but forgotten as I watch the womanly shadow take shape before me, only to find that she’s no woman at all, but a siren. My mind reels as her long, razored tail fans out behind her. Her dark hair floats in a cloud around her green, scale-framed face.
She is as stunning as she is deadly, moving through the water around me like predator would its prey. Her webbed fingers graze the shaved tips of the flowers she once sowed.
It could be the lack of oxygen going to my head, but I get the feeling she doesn’t want to hurt me. Perhaps she believes she has to? The price for trespassing into her world. Or, rather, what’s left of it.
My heart breaks for her. For the loneliness she must feel. And for the truth I have only just discovered.
“I am sorry,” I mouth as I take the chopped stem between my pale blue fingers. I know all too well what it is to live in the ruins of a past life.
She stops, just shy of an arm’s length away. Her head tilts, as if maybe she understands me, when a strong, warm hand from above wraps around my own and pulls.
I breach the water and gasp, greedily swallowing as much air as my burning lungs will take. The painfully shy knight pops up beside me, doing the same beneath his mask.
“Stay with me,” I think I hear Frog say through the ringing in my ears. But my limbs are exhausted, my mind still trying to grasp what it’s only just discovered.
Sirens are alive.
And we are the ones who destroyed their home.
It’s all I can do not to drag us under again.
“Come on, Princess. We’re almost there,” Frog pants.
And I want to listen. I want to help.
But did he just call me…princess?
I tread water behind him, now fully aware of what lurks beneath, but any lingering fear has been muted, trumped by the repulsion of that name on his lips.
“Princess?” I spit with a mouthful of water, fighting to keep my legs moving.
Frog lets out a tired laugh, tightening his hold on my hand. “There she is,” he pants, his thumb stroking the back of my hand as our feet find the shallows.
Exhausted, we collapse on the bank. Neither of us says anything as we work to catch our breath.
I have so many questions, but I can’t seem to form the words around them while his hand is still tightly wrapped around mine. The warmth of his touch is all-consuming, heating me from the inside even as the biting cold nips and claws at my toes.
I dare not move, for fear he’ll release me, though I can’t say why—or even where—this strange attachment came from.
“Stay with me.”
“There she is.”
Have I heard those words before?
I watch Frog contemplate retrieving his hand. His brows are pinched together as he studies them.
I wonder if he feels it—the chill that’s settled deep within my bones? Or…maybe…he holds on because he wants to.
My teeth sink into my cheek as I watch his body go rigid at the slight brush of my fingers against his.
“Have we met before?”
The question slips from my lips before I can stop it, and Frog’s chest stills.
He doesn’t answer.
“We have, haven’t we?” I suck in a steadying breath, careful not to let my excitement tip into my tone. “Were you always a knight?” I ask, wondering if he was a guard at the castle. Or perhaps he was a stable boy I’d seen in passing.
His eyes shudder closed, and with a heavy sigh he reclaims his hand.
“No,” he answers, pushing himself upright.
My heart rages against my chest, desperate to understand these misplaced feelings of mine.
What is wrong with me?
I shouldn’t feel this comfortable with a stranger, especially with one whose life I just put at risk.
When did I become so selfish?
I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest.
“I’m so sorry, Frog.” I whisper, letting the loose ends of my damp curls catch between my fingers.
Perhaps if I pull hard enough I can rip free all the silly nonsensical thoughts that flutter from the depths of my belly into my head.
Frog stands, fetching my floating slippers as a gentle wave pushes them ashore.
I straighten, determined to know him better—to prove that I care about someone other than myself.
“May I ask another, more personal question?”
The Dark Knight stops, but doesn’t turn around.
“Who were you before?”
Seconds tick by and I start to believe he’s not going to answer. Finally, he faces me. And once again my heart gallops, eager to escape its fate.
His autumn green gaze tears right through the fragile veil I thought I could hold between us as he whispers, “Lost, Miss Sunday. I was lost.”