Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Just then the Kraken strikes the ship again, making it shudder and knocking me off-balance so I fall into the ocean too.
I land with a splash, nearly losing my grip on the sword and I start kicking down after Nerissa, following her kelp-like hair that glitters a lighter green in the dappled water. She’s fast, a natural at this, but because of Maren’s blood I have all the energy and strength in the world and I’m able to keep pace with her.
Down we go, into the drowning deep, until Nerissa suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me to the side in another direction.
This way, she says inside my head.
How do you know? I ask. All of the ocean looks the same from here.
Because I do, she says. I know my sister.
I swallow hard. So it is her. Not just the Kraken.
Of course it’s her. The Kraken are just creatures under her spell. She controls them, and I’m afraid right now that she may be controlling Maren.
That’s impossible, I think. No one controls Maren. She’s one hundred percent her own woman.
And so is a sea witch, she reminds me. Come now, see the edge of the cliff there? It will give us coverage.
I stare down at the dark red and gray reef that’s built up along the top of a bank, the side of it giving away to the abyss. I swallow uneasily, hating the fear that the darkness of the ocean gives me. It seems a silly thing when you’re a sailor, when you’re afraid of the deep, but it’s not something I think about until I’m staring face-to-face with it. The seafloor drops off so steeply that it’s dizzying, as if I’m about to get sucked in and fall forever into the great below, so many monsters hidden in these dark depths.
But the monster I need to face the most is Edonia, so I follow Nerissa as we swim along a narrow canyon created by the reef, my broadsword heavy but gripped tightly in my hand.
We swim like this for a while, passing by fish of different colors, barracudas, even a few dolphins who eye us curiously from afar, when suddenly Nerissa pulls us to a stop and ducks behind a tall mound of coral.
This is where I leave you for now, she tells me, her eyes flashing darkly. You need to deal with my sister alone.
I nod, not wanting her help anyway. This is between me and Edonia, no one else. I brandish my sword, even though it moves far too sluggishly through the water. Any words of advice?
She’s a liar, she says emphatically, her kelp hair swirling around her bronzed face. She’ll have told Maren lies to get what she wants. Whether what she really wants is you or Maren, you can’t believe a word out of her mouth. Just know that no matter what’s happened to Maren, it doesn’t have to be that way. You get the book and you can change things.
The book. Of course she would still have that blasted book.
I give Nerissa a final hard look and then I swim off, continuing along the canyon until I hear a beautiful unearthly voice echoing through the water. It’s a haunting song, high and as transparent as glass and from the way it stirs something in me, a longing, a dizziness, a sharp lance right into my soul, I know it’s no ordinary song. It’s a Syren’s song. Maren’s stolen song. And by the grace of god, perhaps the grace of Maren for letting me have her blood, I am able to remain invulnerable to it.
At least I know I’m on the right path and it’s not long before I see the Kraken, its dark massive size stretching outward, seeming to blend with the abyss behind it, its yellow eyes especially piercing.
In front of the Kraken is Edonia, looking much more impressive than I remember her being. Her white hair wriggles around her, and the longer I look at it the more I realize it’s made of shimmering eels. Around her neck is a necklace on a chain of tiny bones and hanging from it is a small potion bottle with purple smoke swirling inside.
And beside her is Maren.
I stop swimming. My mouth drops open, water filling it as I gawk at her in awe.
Maren is upright in front of me, no longer just a woman but a god damn Syren. From the top she looks the same, with her long black hair flowing with the current, her full breasts, her stays and her undergarments that she’s been wearing as a dress.
And beneath the torn hem of her skirt protrudes a gloriously long and powerful fish tail, the scales a shimmering teal that taper into shades of purple near the fin, the color shifting when it catches the light.