Droplets (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 1) (31 page)

     Then his beautiful and yet achingly sick voice rose in my memory.

    
Promise me that you will save yourself if you have the chance
, the memory said, pulling at my heart.
Promise me that if there comes a point when you think you can escape, then do it. I don’t want you to even pause and think about me. I want you to get out of here
.

     Nodding my head to myself, I knew what I had to do. Taking a moment to control myself and put my emotions aside, I wiped my eyes with an edge of the heavy cloak. One last deep breath filled my lungs and I threw open the door without caution.

     Dashing to the window, my fingers worked furiously at the rusted latch trying to pry it open. But it wouldn’t move. I pulled the hunting knife from my bodice and hooked it under the latch. With a resounding click it opened and I pushed the pane as far as it could go. Hopping onto the ledge, I didn’t even glance at how far the drop would be before I jumped. Desperation pumped through my veins like never before, spurring me toward the freedom that lay in the churning ocean waters. 

     After a short drop, my feet hit the ground. I tumbled ungracefully to the packed earth with a thud, the cloak twisting about my legs. Getting up as quickly as I could, I threw the hood once more over my light hair and dashed to the shadows of a nearby tree.

     The clouds were moving quickly in the sky, creating dancing patches of light on the wide open lawn. From where I stood there was a great distance to be covered without any cover from the moonlight. Throwing caution to the wind, and steeling my heart against churning fear, I dashed forward, intent to reach the shadows of the dark trees.

     With each bounding step the same words resounded in my head over and over again.
Get to Tunder. Get to Tunder. Get to
Tunder. He would know what to do. 

     I reached the shadowy cover, but didn’t slow my pace. Every moment I expected to hear approaching feet, the dreaded sound of someone chasing me. But nothing came. It was quiet. Almost too quiet.

     Minutes passed and the sound of waves reached my ears. My nerves yearned for the water, but I slowed to a sudden halt at the trees’ edge. The shadows still hid me from view. Glancing to both sides I waited, searching for any movement. Nothing pervaded my sight. Just as I was about to step out onto the rocky shoreline, a sound seared into my brain. Like a moaning roar, similar to the groan and rumble of an elephant, the sound grew to a deafening level. Squeezing my eyes shut, I covered my ears with my hands, waiting for the sound to stop.

     The eerie silence that followed sent my fears soaring once more. The sound had come from close by, and it was all I could do to not give myself up in panic. Gazing along the shore, my eyes made out a form, a human form, standing waist deep in the water. His hands, which had been cupping his mouth, fell to his sides. He remained where he was, waiting.

     His long hair reached his hips, just touching the top of the water. It blew in the wind as he continued to scan the horizon, moving his head from left to right and back again. His head snapped suddenly as his eyes focused on something in the distance.

     Quicker than I could comprehend, other mermen and mermaids emerged from the waters and were standing with him. They all leaned in closely as he spoke, his hands gesturing in wide arcs as he pointed back toward the castle repeatedly. Their numbers were great; I lost count after fifteen and instead focused on what I would have to do.

     I had to flee before they reentered the ocean, my chances were limited. How quickly they would be able to catch up with me was not something I wanted to take into account. Counting to ten, I breathed deeply and loosened the cloak. It fell into a puddle around my ankles and I took comfort in its warmth for one more second.

     Squeezing my eyes shut, a silent cry spilled from my heart.
I love you, Patrick.

     Running as fast as I could I pounded down the rocky shore, the waves coming ever closer. Shouting reached my ears, but I didn’t turn toward the sound. My focus was on the ocean. Small chance though it was, it was my only chance.

     The water touched my toes. Ten feet away from me a body shot out of the water, and the shimmering flash of fins changed to clothed legs in a split second. Too horrified to scream, I froze, coming to a halt, but the person zoomed past without a further glance. To either side of me, the rising bodies of transforming mermaids and mermen shot past in gusts of short wind.

     I watched them run forward, swarming upon the group of Hyven soldiers who had gathered only moments before. The bodies smashed together, blades shining in the moonlight. Both sides wore black. The fight was like a violent dance, where the partakers spun and sliced whenever there was an open chance.

     Horror struck, I forced myself to move forward, to tear my eyes away from the ghastly sight. The water slapped against my ankles and then my knees, the dress tugged against me, catching into the current. With all the strength I could muster I pushed forward, knowing safety was somewhere up ahead.

     “Lissie!” The voice was familiar yet more forceful than I remembered. “Get down!” Elik yelled over the waves and shouts along the beach. I tripped and slammed into the water with a loud splash. Water hit my face, but I knew I was not yet deep enough to transform.

     Behind me came the sounds of running feet, and in one quick look I saw the long-haired merman approaching quickly. A scream gathered in my throat and I helplessly crawled backward.

     From over my head, Elik shot from the water and transformed easily. His bare chest and back gleamed from sea water as he collided with the Hyven soldier. Their blades sliced at one another as they ducked and dealt each other blows. I stood and moved farther back in the water. The waves pounded against my back but I continued to move, cautiously now, making sure no one was following me.

     A hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder; the scream I had built in my throat almost escaped my lips until a strong hand covered my mouth. I struggled desperately, but the arms were like a vice. A voice tried to reach me, but I could hear nothing. My only thought was to break free.

     “Lissie, stop!” The voice whispered loudly in my ear, “It’s me, Tunder.”

     I relaxed immediately and he let me go momentarily, only to grasp my hand in a tighter grip. “We have to go,” he said and pulled me forward into the breaking waves.

     Chest deep, we ducked under the water and my legs sucked together to form my fins. The thick dress billowed around me, but I reached quickly into my bodice and pulled the knife from its confines. Slicing through the corset, I shredded the disgusting article until I was able to break free. Tunder helped pull it off and he let it go into the water. Grasping my hand once more, he pulled me forward.

     The dreadful sounds of fighting were not silenced under the water; instead the sounds were louder than above the surface. In the murky shadows I saw the twisting bodies of merfolk fighting one another. Their fins chased each other and swatted their opponents, while their blades worked expertly to cut and dice flesh.

     Bile rose in my mouth, but I held it back and pressed forward, hoping Tunder would be able to protect me. The dagger in my hand gave me small encouragement for safety.

     Shooting like a rocket in the night sky, a merman smashed into Tunder powerfully, pushing the three of us to the ocean floor. The surface was now thirty feet above. The growl of the merman made the hairs on my neck stand up, but Tunder pushed back against him, slicing his chest.

     The merman backed away with a swift kick and sized up his opponent. His face was familiar. I realized it was Bolrock. A bubbling fury laced through my blood and I moved closer, my own lavender fins looking dismal and gloomy in the dark depths of the ocean.

     With a grimace, Bolrock raised his arms in what could only be a fighting stance. His hands were held up so his blades pointed directly at us. Swallowing hard, I noticed that Tunder’s arms were outspread. He was leaving himself open for attack in order to protect me.

     In an instant, Bolrock rushed forward and Tunder grasped him about the middle. The two men struggled, groaning as they clawed for the upper hand, but they were evenly matched.

    
Go now!
Tunder yelled, his merfolk cry making sense to my ears. I backed away, my fear too great, but the thought of what this Hyven soldier had done to Patrick made me halt. With a cry from my lips, I surged forward. With all the strength I could muster brought the blunt handle end of the dagger down upon Bolrock’s head.

     The thud shocked both mermen and they parted from one another. Lifting a hand to his head, Bolrock looked around blearily, unsure of where we were. Blood billowed into a cloud and he stared at it as though amused.

     Not wasting time, Tunder reached for me once more and pulled me along behind him. I wondered why he didn’t finish him when he had the chance, but I soon realized that Tunder was also bleeding, and bleeding badly. His shoulders were littered with cuts and gashes. He noticed my gaze.

     Don’t,
he said when I stopped moving.
We have to keep going.

     I nodded, wanting to say something more but not knowing what.

     Pulling up short, Tunder tugged us to the surface. I scanned the horizon looking for Hyvar; the distance we were from the island was amazing. I tried to comprehend how we had made it so far so quickly.

     Arching his back, Tunder called into the night air. His voice was like the rumble of the long-haired Hyven I had heard earlier, yet somehow his voice sounded more powerful. Looking down at me, he jerked his head backward.

     “Come on, we need to leave.”

      “But the others?” I asked, thinking of Elik.

     “They are retreating.”

     “Won’t they follow us? How will we get away? They will catch us, and they will kill us and then
he
will be left alone,
he
is all alone, and… and… I need to go back for him. I have to, he needs me, and, and—”

     “Shh,” Tunder soothed as he pulled me tightly up against his chest. “We can’t save him now. You know that.”

     “But I can’t leave him,” I sobbed.

     “Lissie, I need you to be strong right now.” He separated us and held me at arm’s length. He waited until I finally looked him in the eye. “If not for me, then be strong for him,” he said solemnly. 

     His last sentence was like a question, asking me if I would be able to make it. I nodded and let him take me forward through the water. For one moment we turned back to Hyvar and then plunged under the surface and shot off into the darkness in the opposite direction. 

     The image of the thick sturdy fortress remained forever before my eyes; inside those stone walls was the man I loved.

     I knew I would be back here. I would come back to save him, no matter what it would take. Tightening my grip on the dagger in my hand, I surged forward and followed Tunder’s lead.

Epilogue

Two weeks had passed since our escape from Hyvar and every moment I was away from Patrick was like the scraping of nails on a chalkboard. The worry I felt was constant; I knew what he had suffered and was still suffering.

     The days following our arrival on Lathmor were filled with a flurry of planning and scheming. Shaylee and Tunder led the organization of numerous attacks on Hyvar that failed. I learned that they had actually tried to infiltrate the castle four times while I was secluded in the old stone room. Their last attempt, the one in which I escaped, was only successful because of my sudden appearance.

     Every time they left I waited in hope, but the result was always the same. Morven had the castle heavily guarded, more securely than before I had left. In the back of my mind I knew it was because he didn’t want anyone to mess with his plans again. My hope of saving Patrick was growing smaller and smaller.

     Just what Morven was doing to him was yet to be fully determined.

     Biting my lip, I continued to stare out the Lathmor palace widow, waiting for the moment when the soldiers would return. My heart thudded heavily, hoping they would have Patrick with them this time. The last three attempts in the past two weeks had failed, but maybe something would go right this time.

     A soft knock tapped on the other side of Kryssa’s bedroom door. Spinning around, I watched the door open to reveal Shaylee.

     “Are they…” She shook her head, ending my question abruptly.

     Her worry was equal to mine; I knew her husband would be out on the front lines of the battle. His wounds healed quickly when we returned to the safe haven of Lathmor, and rather than wait to fully recover, he had continued to lead the Lathmorian soldiers to Hyvar.

     “I just came to tell you that dinner is ready.” Disgusted, I turned back to the window. How could I even think of food at a time like this? At a time when Patrick was probably starving to death no less. The image of his scarred arm passed before my eyes and I fought to dispel it.

     “You need to eat,” Shaylee prodded. “Trust me, it helps more than you would think.”

     Knowing she was right, I decided to appease her and walked out of the bedroom and headed toward the dining area. We stepped into the spacious room adorned with long tables. Lathmorians lined the benches and many of them looked up as we entered. Some even nodded in our direction. Their hostility toward me had changed upon my return to Lathmor with Tunder. Somehow I had proved to them which side I was on.

     Inching forward and ducking my head, I approached the long line of Lathmorians waiting to eat. The table of food was laden with all types of seafood. The sight should have been welcoming, but there was nothing within me to react to it.

     Just as I stepped up to the table a door slammed open. “Princess!” A mermaid called from the entryway. Shaylee and I both spun around in response.

     “They are back,” she breathed heavily, her eyes flickering to my face. She quickly averted my gaze and I knew.

     My heart plummeted, further tearing into pieces. Each time I hoped for his return and was disappointed, the gap in my heart only grew wider. Closing my eyes I tuned out the rest of the report, not wanting to hear the casualties or the number of injured soldiers. 

     Not reacting to anyone or anything, I left the room while I could still maintain control. My feet moved of their own accord and took me away from anyone, anything that tried to cheer me up. And yet, even though my soul had been ripped apart once more, there was still the hope I constantly felt inside. Somehow I just knew Patrick would be okay. He had to be. That part of me would never give up.

     Gliding into a jog, I padded my way down a dirt path toward the cliffs that overlooked the ocean. Off to my right a voice called my name, but I barely heard it over the sea air.

     Peering off in the distance I saw the large form of Tunder approach, his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. The awkward remembrance that I was not the only one mourning for Patrick’s safety pervaded my mind. Too often I believed I was the only one who cared for him. Yet, before my very eyes, was a group of mermen who had risked their lives more than once to save him. My gratitude was poorly shown and the feeling of unworthiness swept over me.

     Within the group of exhausted soldiers were Elik and Daggin. Both nodded in greeting, but didn’t show more emotion than that. Their solemnity only further proved the seriousness of the situation.

     “I’m sorry, Lissie,” Tunder said upon approach as he met my eyes. The circles beneath his own shocked me. He was pushing himself to the limits—yet another sign of his loyalty to Patrick.

      “Don’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “I know you’re doing everything you can. I just wish there was some way I could help.” The forbidden subject once more arose. At the beginning I had fought to help the rescue party, but my lack of defensive skills shot down my position immediately.

     Tunder gazed off into the distance, his eyes shimmering in the orange sunset. “I’m afraid,” he admitted in a soft whisper and I gawked at him. How was he capable of fear? “Morven has had so much time with him. I’m afraid of what he’s doing to him.” He knew everything: I had told them all that had happened—our separation, the night in the dungeon, and, most importantly, my faked death. All of it was enough to worry even the strongest of leaders.

     I nodded as Tunder’s voice choked. Reaching out my hand, I patted his shoulder and tried to comfort him in some way. Seeing his own pain was almost as hard as knowing Patrick was in danger. It made the reality of what was happening in the dungeons of Hyvar all the more real.

     “I am, too,” I admitted.

     Tunder sighed heavily and turned back to face me. “We need a new strategy. I want you to be trained and ready. Next mission, you are coming with us.”

     The sudden weight of responsibility fell upon my shoulders, but I held it up gladly. Finally. I would be able to do something to help Patrick. The guilt I felt for leaving Hyvar without letting Patrick see me was growing larger every day. If I could only do something to withhold it, even for a moment, I would feel so much better.

     “I’ll be expecting you to help Shaylee and I plan the next attack. I know we asked you for information about Hyvar, but I am going to need you to go over it with us again. Every detail could be important.”

     I nodded, my posture immediately straightening. His standard of expectations was rising and I would meet them with everything I had in me.

     He turned to leave, his strong gait loping forward with determination. I looked away, back over the ocean.

     “Oh, and Lissie.” I turned back to face him. “You did the right thing by leaving Hyvar. If you were both still there all hope would be lost. Now we at least have a chance.” Not saying another word, he continued up the hill toward the palace.

     I wondered at his words, knowing he was right. Part of me warmed at his heartfelt concern; in some way he had become a dear friend. They all had.

     Continuing my trudge toward the ocean, the wind pulled at my loose, unruly hair. There was a chill in the air that would discomfort some people, but I found it pleasant in my jeans and sweatshirt and bare feet. 

     Reaching the shore, I found a large flat rock to sit on up on a cliff. The sandy beach spread out beneath my dangling toes, while the waves made a harmonic rhythm as they crashed upon the shore.

     Looking down solemnly, I clasped my hands together. My eyes rested on the naked skin about my wrists. The bracelet Patrick had given me was gone. I had noticed its disappearance upon our desperate arrival in Lathmor. The sign was a bad omen for things to come, but I tried not to think of it in that way.

     I sighed heavily at the loss of the gorgeous bracelet, the only gift Patrick had given me. Rubbing the place where it was supposed to reside, I looked back out over the sea.  

     I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the waves, watching them as they crashed, rushed forward against the sand, and then fell back again into the lapping waters, but after a while I noticed someone was beside me. I startled slightly.

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Kryssa apologized softly, her eyes squinting out over the ocean. The wind rippled her long dark hair while tugging harshly at the sweater she wore. It made her hair look as though it was moving in slow motion while the rest of her stood in real time.

    “You’re fine,” I said, reassuring her that it didn’t bother me.

     “I saw Tunder. He told me about the new plan.” I nodded at her statement and bit my lip. “I think it’ll all turn out fine. So lighten up and look forward to the day when you’ll see him again.” Kryssa nudged my shoulder positively and gave me a tentative smile.

     Shaking my head, I squinted into the wind once more. “I’m scared,” I admitted, the emotions making my throat thick. “I’m afraid for him. For what is happening to him. But most of all I am afraid he’s gone. What will I do if he is?” The very thought of living in a world where he was not also breathing sent a shard of ice through my heart, physically painful to the point of having to concentrate on breathing in order to regain my composure. 

     Kryssa didn’t speak. Instead she picked at the weeds growing beside us. Her fingers tugged them up from the ground, exposing their weak little roots as she ground them between her fingers. 

     “You’ll learn to go on by yourself,” she said softly and I gaped at her, shocked she would say something like that to me. How could she say that to me after I had just confessed how forlorn and afraid I was without Patrick?

     “I know what you’re feeling, Lissie.” Her eyes softened and she closed them for a moment.  “It’s a pain that starts in your heart and spreads to every part of your body. It makes you feel hopeless and doomed, and the world holds no more joy.”

     I stared at her, wondering how she knew. How could she so easily describe every feeling I felt?

     Suddenly it all fell into place. The reasons for her being so alone, for her behavior toward Elik all made sense.

     Seeing my understanding, she nodded and once more turned back toward the ocean.

     “His name was Wyeth.” A small smile crept across her face as she said his name. “We grew up together and fell in love as we got older. He was my whole world.” Tears pushed into my eyes. I knew where the story ended, and didn’t want to hear it. “After we were engaged, the Hyven attacked. And he was severely injured in the battle.” A tear slipped quickly off her cheek and I bit upon my shaky lip as I listened to her words.

     “He died slowly in my arms a couple of nights after they brought him home.” Kryssa’s tone changed; it was stronger and more confident. “He was so wonderful to me and not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of him.”

     She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to look at me, her eyes still showing the signs of pain and emotion.

     “All I’m saying is that you need to hope.” Her voice was convincing. “Every shallow breath that Wyeth took when he was dying was like a blessing. As soon as they brought him back they told me that he wasn’t going to live. Once I accepted that fact, I was able to spend the last few moments with him, reassuring him of my love.

      “But you have the chance to see Patrick again, you just need to hope for the best. Whether or not you’ll see him again, you know he loves you and that he’s doing everything he can to stay alive for you.” Her words had a profound effect upon my outlook.

     “Think of what you can do to get to him again,” she concluded. “Rather than what you would do without him.”

     “I will,” I said, my words drifting off into the breeze. She smiled and wrapped her arm gently around my shoulders to give me a light squeeze.

     “What do you say we start practicing your defensive skills?” She quirked an eyebrow and got to her feet without saying another word.

     Knowing I would follow her, I took a moment to gather my breath. The road I was headed down was unlike anything I had ever done before. Yet, for the first time since leaving Hyvar, real hope filled my veins. I could see the future and Patrick was still in it.

     Rising to my feet I adjusted the hunting dagger that hung on a belt beside my hip and began to move back up the hill toward the castle.

     Reaching the crest of the hill I glanced over my shoulder, taking in the bright warm colors spreading across the horizon. Looking upon them a feeling of hope swelled within my chest. But just as I turned to finish my walk, I noticed a cloud gathering speed.

     A storm cloud surged forward to turn the bright warmth into darkness.