The Deepest Blue(86)

Their voices tumbled over one another. And Asana: “She’s being chased by Silent Ones. I’m going to help her outrun them.”

Kelo noticed that Lady Garnah was frowning up at the fortress. He stared too.

“Do you think the Silent Ones will interfere?” Kelo asked.

“That’s not my worry,” Garnah said.

“Then what is?”

She pointed to the battlements where archers paced along the perimeter. So far, they hadn’t noticed the small reunion on the sands in the shadow of the cliffs, but how long would that last? “The queen has to do whatever she’s going to do quietly.”

And then the sea seemed to explode.

Water shot into the air, and a spirit breeched the surface. It looked like a whale but with shimmering scales. It began to swim away from the shore. Wave after wave hit the sand, and each was filled with dozens of seafoam spirits.

“Yeah, she’s not being quiet,” Kelo said, his heart thumping faster.

From the fortress, he heard shouting. He looked up to see the archers congregating by the walls. But none seemed to be aiming their arrows at the people down on the beach. Their attention was fixed on the chaotic sea.

“I take it back,” Garnah said with a wolfish grin. “She can be loud. So long as she’s also spectacular.”

It was spectacular, to be sure. The waves parted before they hit the shore and chased unnaturally along the side of the island without breaking. He saw the shadows of sea creatures within the water—turtles, dolphins, fish—and then the water swept past them.

In its wake, he saw a spirit shaped like a whale coming toward them, with three people clinging to its back. It was pushed along by a swell of water.

As they reached the shore, Kelo saw their faces.

Three women. But he cared about only one of them.

Mayara.

She was here!

MAYARA FELT THE SURGE IN THE WATER, AND THE WHALE SPIRIT lurched forward. “What’s happening?” she cried. Looking back, she saw the sea was churning. “Is it the Silent Ones? Are they following us?”

“I don’t know!” Roe called back. “I can’t touch its mind!”

It was being controlled by another. They must have found us! The spirit storm had delayed them, but not forever—Mayara saw, in the midst of the froth behind them, the shapes of women in gray robes. They stood side by side on the peak of a wave.

“Focus on the spirit!” Palia cried. “Break this hold!”

The three spirit sisters battered at it with their minds, trying to break through, but still it didn’t respond. Instead, the whale spirit brought a swell of water that propelled them forward so fast that the wind screamed in their ears.

“Stop! Mayara, Palia, stop fighting it!” Roe shouted. “It’s not taking us back!”

She was right—they hadn’t reversed direction. But where’s it going? Mayara wondered. It had to be controlled by the Silent Ones who chased them, but then why weren’t the three of them returning to Akena Island? Why were they still speeding toward their destination?

“We could jump and swim,” Mayara suggested. The waves were high on either side, hemming them in, and the force and speed of the current made her uncomfortable. But she had experience with riptides—you swam with the current until you could break out of it.

“I can’t swim in water that strong,” Palia said. “I know my limits. I’d drown in minutes.”

Roe nodded. “I’d last seconds.”

“We could use other spirits—” Mayara began.

“No.” Roe was focused on something far away. Mayara tried to reach out as well, to see what Roe saw, but all she sensed was the implacable resolve of the whale spirit. Whoever had imprinted their will on it had overpowered all other thought—and that was almost more terrifying than anything else. Who was this strong? How many heirs and Silent Ones awaited them? And how could they escape?

The wind spat in their faces as they rushed through the sea between two walls of water. Ahead, Mayara saw the familiar shape of the Neran Stronghold. “Who’s doing this?”

“I think . . . it’s my mother!”

The fortress, lit by torches and framed against the evening sky, was in front of them. Propelled by waves, the whale spirit carried them so fast that Mayara felt as if they were flying.

She saw figures on the beach: five. From their outlines, she guessed two were men and three were women, but she couldn’t see faces. Were they heirs? Guards? Silent Ones? Or was Roe right—had they found Queen Asana?

The wave lifted and then deposited them on the sand like seaweed, in a pile. Mayara scrambled to her feet, feeling for her glass knife.

But she didn’t need it.

Roe launched herself off the sand. “Mother!”

Mayara dusted off her knees as she watched the reunion. Roe was embracing an exquisitely dressed woman drenched in pearls. An older man and woman clustered around her. Roe’s grandparents, she guessed. They were all talking at the same time, laughing and crying and asking why and how. . . . And then Mayara heard the best sound in the world: Kelo’s voice.

“Mayara? You’re alive?”

“Kelo?” How could . . . But it was! He was here! With a cry, she threw herself at him. His arms closed around her. “You’re here! How are you here? Why—”