Chapter One #2
“Do not eat me,” Marin ordered the sea serpent.
“Calm. Stay calm. You want to hear a story?” Panting, she scrambled up onto the rock.
“How about my first delivery job? It was to an island that was inhabited only by a lighthouse keeper and a flock of feral gryphons. Except I didn’t know about the gryphons…
” It wasn’t precisely a true story—the flock hadn’t chased her on Silver and she hadn’t tossed them fish until they were distracted enough that she could escape, but that was what she would have done if the gryphons hadn’t been asleep.
She kept her voice soothing as she talked.
Behind her, Silver continued to sail forward on the heading she’d set, toward the cliff rocks. She braced herself and shoved both hands under the shimmering scales of the sea serpent. He sang at her, a querulous note as clear as the ring of crystal.
Marin hefted the segment of the serpent up.
She could only lift him a few inches—he was enormous; she couldn’t wrap her arms around him—but it was enough!
He flipped his sinewy body upward, and she didn’t hesitate—the second he moved, she ran and leaped off the rocks and onto her boat.
She ran across the prow and hurled herself at the helm.
Spinning the wheel, Marin unclamped the lines and tacked as hard and fast as she could.
Silver screamed as its side scratched against the rocks.
She winced at the sound. Please, no holes.
The silver sails luffed, and then the wind caught.
The sailboat sped forward, away from the rocks and toward the center of the gap.
Her heart raced as fast as a hummingbird’s, and she realized her hands were shaking.
She gripped the lines harder, and she looked behind her.
Marin watched the sea serpent slide into the water, free of the rocks. “Yay,” she said weakly, and she collapsed backward to breathe, just for a second because she still needed to focus on sailing her way out of the Painted Pass.
She concentrated on catching the wind and steering clear of the cliffs.
Ahead, it became even more narrow. The wind howled as it swept her forward.
She had no choice but to keep Silver in a close reach, with the sails as tight as possible before each change in direction, which made her speed increase—
A swell lifted her sailboat into the air. She lost focus for an instant, and the sails luffed as her boat headed into the wind. “No!” She yanked as hard as she could on the mainsheet as she turned the wheel, fighting to reestablish control.
And the swell of water beneath her propelled her forward through the gap. She looked back to see the feathered tail of the serpent behind the aft of her sailboat.
It was the sea serpent beneath her, carrying her.
In seconds, she spurted out the other side of the passage—out into the open sea.
The swell diminished.
Marin caught the wind again. She let out a yell of triumph.
Beside her, the sea serpent trumpeted back.
He dove through the waves like a dolphin breaching, and his iridescent scales glistened in the sun.
Back in the water, his wounds were washed clean, and she could see they hadn’t been deep—scrapes from his attempts to free himself from the rocks. Not much worse than her knee.
“You’re welcome,” she called, “and thank you!”
She had no idea how intelligent sea serpents were, but the ride out from between the cliffs had to have been intentional. She’d saved him, so he returned the favor.
“We’re even now!” Marin waved to him.
He propelled himself out of the water and arched in the air like a rainbow, before diving back between the waves. It was such a magnificent sight that she forgot to breathe, only remembering when his tail disappeared beneath the surface of the sea.
“Well, that doesn’t happen every day,” Marin said conversationally to her sails.
She leaned back and couldn’t stop grinning. What a tale this would make, if she had anyone to tell it to. Maybe whoever received the delivery at the next dock would want to hear it. Chances are, they won’t believe it.
That was okay. She knew it was true.
And Iovar wasn’t here to refute it.
Her smile faded as she thought of him, and then she resolutely shoved all thoughts of him away, squishing them into a tiny ball in the corner of her heart. She’d made it through the pass, and she’d rescued a sea serpent. It was a good day, and it was all hers.
Settling in, Marin sailed away from the painted cliffs and the twin islands of the lovers. The wind was strong and steady, and the sun was warm on her silvery arms and cheeks. It caressed her as if welcoming her back from the rainbow shadows of the Painted Pass.
In the distance, she spotted a herd of merhorses. She watched them crest with the waves, sea spray flying from their manes as their tails propelled them through the water. It wasn’t every day one got to see a sea serpent, much less rescue one. She’d treasure this memory.
Humming an old sailor’s song, she continued on.
It was two hours later when she realized the sea serpent hadn’t left. He was still swimming with her, beneath the waves, a polite distance from her boat.
“Um, hey?” Marin called. “You said thanks. We’re all good. You can go now.”
He flicked one of his feathery fins, and water sprayed her legs.
She felt a bit like she’d been scolded for being silly. “I’m serious,” Marin said. “You can’t just … stay with me.”
He raised his head out of the water and looked at her with his blue-as-the-night-sea eyes.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t tell him what to do or what not to do, but really?
A sea serpent swimming alongside her boat?
For hours? She’d never heard of that happening.
They were supposed to be aloof creatures who occasionally sank ships during storms for no apparent reason.
You were supposed to admire them and avoid them.
“We’re not friends,” Marin told him.
He swam beside her boat, as if to say he disagreed.
When he was still with her two days later, she gave him a name: Perri.
And when the people on the docks she visited asked how she’d befriended a sea serpent, she told them the truth: “I didn’t. He befriended me.” All she’d done was save his life, which didn’t seem nearly as impressive a feat as becoming her friend.