“You know what you ask of me,” Phanos voiced quietly, wind whipping across the water and tossing the edges of my hair over the sand.
“I am not asking.”
Small bumps of unease prickled my skin as Phanos tipped his head to the side. A muscle in his jaw throbbed. Then he slipped below the water. A moment or so later, the ceeren went still. The smaller ones, the children, swam deeper and deeper, disappearing from sight.
Phanos resurfaced less than a foot from the sand. Water coursed over the smooth skin of his head and streamed down his chest. Wordlessly, he extended his arms to us.
Kolis hesitated, not moving at first, and then he lifted me once more. “If she dies, I will destroy your entire Court,” he swore, handing me to the Primal who hadn’t approached neither Ash nor me during my coronation.
Once more, panic seized me as Phanos took me into his arms, and the embers in me briefly flared. My heart rammed against my ribs, but I thought I felt Phanos’s chest rise sharply against mine. Warm, fizzing water lapped against my legs, and then everything below my chest was underwater. What thin breaths I managed seized. I loved being in my lake back in the mortal realm and enjoyed splashing around in Ash’s pool, but I couldn’t swim. And this…this was the sea a Primal was carrying me into.
“Nyktos once took what belonged to me.”
My wide eyes and frightened gaze darted from the star-strewn sky to Phanos. He was speaking about Saion and Rhahar.
“I should be amused to see something of his taken from him.” With his featherlight voice, it was hard to hear him over the seething water. “But I find no joy in this.” Wisps of silvery eather surged in his eyes. “I can sense your panic. There is no need. What would be the point in harming you when you’re already dying?”
How in this realm and beyond was that supposed to be even remotely reassuring?
One side of Phanos’s lips kicked up.
On second thought, I didn’t think he’d meant what he said to be reassuring at all.
“You’re in the water off the Triton Isles, near the coast of Hygeia,” Phanos continued. “Do you know what that means? Of course, you don’t. Most of the other Primals are not even aware, including Nyktos.” Phanos drifted out even farther. “I wonder if he’d have already brought you here if he’d known.”
I truly wasn’t following most of what he was saying. All I could think about was how deep the water must be.
“Water is the source of all life and healing. Without it, even the Primal of Life wouldn’t hold power…if that power was to be held.” A wry, humorless smile appeared. “Those born here, the ceeren, carry that source within them. It’s a gift that heals, just as the water does.”
His eyes met mine, and I heard…singing—soft strains in an unfamiliar language. The eather had stopped whirling in Phanos’s eyes, and I thought maybe I saw a shadow of sadness there. But I had to be imagining it. This was the same Primal who’d flooded the Kingdom of Phythe because he’d been insulted.
“For most in your…state, this would provide a cure. But for you? You are no godling, Consort. I felt them the moment our skin touched.” Phanos’s head lowered, and he whispered, “The embers of Primal power. Strong ones. Too strong for a mortal, and that’s what you are.” The bridge of his nose brushed mine. “Or were.”
The suffocating feeling of helplessness rose, making me jerk. I had no idea what he would do. Any Primal could attempt to take the embers, just as Kolis had from Eythos, and what could I do to stop it? Nothing. My fingers, all that I could move, curled into my palms. I wasn’t used to being unable to defend myself. The feeling made me want to scratch my skin off. Fury whipped through me, crashing into my panic until desperation choked me.
“You have embers of life in you. Which means Eythos dealt the final—perhaps winning—blow to his brother, did he not?” Phanos glanced at the shore, the tendrils of eather in his eyes burning as brightly as the moon. A low chuckle came from him. “Ah, you have always been his weakness, haven’t you? I could take those embers myself.”
I stared up at him, wondering if it would be better if Phanos did just that. Although considering how he’d flooded a kingdom in the mortal realm over the cancellation of a tradition meant to honor him, probably not.
“But then I’d be fighting Kolis and Nyktos, the latter likely to be as displeased as the former, at least based on what I saw at your coronation. I am no fool.” He turned us in the water so his back was to the shore. His damp forehead brushed mine. “What truly ails you goes deeper than blood loss and cannot be circumvented, Consort. It can only be delayed, no matter how steep the price or how often it is paid.”
A steep price? What—？
“When this is all done, and you still breathe?” The bridge of his nose brushed mine again. “Remember the gifts given to you tonight.”
Before I could even process what he’d said, churning water rose over our heads, and we dipped below the surface. Phanos’s mouth closed over mine, causing my entire body to go rigid at the contact. He didn’t kiss me. He breathed into my mouth, the panels of my gown floating around me and my arms following as we sank. Phanos’s breath was cool, fresh, and powerful, like swallowing the wind.
His arms relaxed around me, and I slipped free of his grasp. My wide gaze darted through the cloudy water, and I continued sinking until—
Hands folded around my ankles, dragging me down. My mouth opened in a scream that sent bubbles roaring upward in the water. Fingers pressed into my waist, turning me around. A woman was suddenly before me, her long, dark hair tangling with my much lighter strands. She leaned in, the scales of her tail rough against the skin of my legs. Her eyes were the color of the Stroud Sea during the summer at noon, a stunning shade like sea glass. Her bare chest pressed against mine as she grasped my cheeks. Like Phanos, she placed her mouth over mine and exhaled. The breath was fresh and sweet, pouring down my throat.
The ceeren let go and floated away from me, her eyes closing, and our hair separating. She didn’t fall. She rose.
A hand on my shoulder turned me again. A man with the same blue-green eyes and pink skin took hold of my cheeks, bringing his mouth to mine as beams of brilliant moonlight washed over us. He, too, breathed that fresh, sweet, cool air into me, filling my lungs. His hands slipped away from me like the first, and then another caught me, this one with hair nearly as pale as mine. Her lips met mine, and her breath filled me, the two of us drifting from the light of the moon into the shadows. She floated up as another and another came. There were so many, and less and less moonlight reached us. I could no longer keep track of how many touched their lips to mine and exhaled, but with each breath, I felt different. The coldness inside me faded, and the tightness in my chest and throat eased. My heart skipped beats, then began pumping steadily. The erratic racing of my pulse slowed, and sound finally reached me. I looked around and saw the ceeren in the shadows of the dark water. It was them. They were singing like the ones on land had. I couldn’t understand the words, but it was a hauntingly beautiful melody. The backs of my eyes burned.
A ceeren’s smooth hands cupped my cheeks, turning my head away from those singing and toward her. She didn’t appear much older than me. Her blue-tinged lips spread in a smile as her tail moved up and down, propelling us upward toward the now-dappled moonlight. Tears. I could see them, even in the water. They streamed down her ivory cheeks, and I closed my eyes against what I felt at seeing them. The urge to tell her I was sorry hit me hard, even though I didn’t know what I was apologizing for. But her tears, her smile, and the song the ceeren sang…