Sea Of Treason, Pirate's Bluff #1

A Crushed Soul

Bluff

The feeling that rushes through my veins when I catch sight of Whitley's limp body in the water is indescribable. Like being dropped into the icy cold ocean with your whole body paralyzed. You just—sink.

There's no one around to save you.

I pause for the longest moment of my life when my feet just barely touch the wet sand, watching her white skirt float through the water.

My heart doesn't beat. My lungs don't expand. My soul is crushed.

Then I push through the panic and run to her, feet splashing in the shallow water. I dive into a wave and swim until I reach her.

"Whitley," I force out through barely usable vocal chords as I reach to her. Her face is up but her eyes are closed and her face is so pale. Lips blue.

I grab her shoulders and shake but there's no response. I call again. "Whitley!" this time so much more forceful. Desperate. God, please. Wake up.

There are no signs of Sirens. What does that mean? I wonder.

As I pull Whitley's limp body into my arms, pressed again my broken heart, I mostly feel her cold skin but I also feel something else. A spark. I press my face against her neck, hand reaching for her wrist. Scrambling awkwardly for any way I can feel for a pulse.

Her heart beats. Quickly. It's faint but fast.

That's good but... bad.

My heart leaps but stomach sinks. She's alive. But there's magic beneath her skin that wasn't there before. I've always know why the sirens would want her. Not to kill her. Not to hand her over the Simon.

They want to turn her.

I don't know which would be worse. Whitley dead. Or Whitley as a siren—cold and heartless.

"Please," I whisper in her hair, my voice weak and strangled. "Please wake up," I whisper, tears threatening to fall. My whole body shakes, struggling not to crumble under the weight, the pressure. The darkness.

I squeeze her hair into my hand and let out a scream of frustration. Desperation. The scream turns to a sob, but I can't let my emotion take over. I have to keep my mind clear. Can't give up—not yet.

Maybe there's still a way to save her. I have to believe there is. I have power, right? I'm the Son Of The Sea, whatever that means. I know as the son of the siren queen I have some supernatural powers but there's more. There has to be more I'm capable of or else the prophecy wouldn't hold enough weight. Who cares if you can control some kid who can change what he looks like and makes sailing a bit easier? It's cool, but not worth the risks our enemies have taken. The lengths they've gone to.

I know there is more to this. And if there's more to it, maybe I can do something to save her. Maybe my magic can counteract theirs? I don't know. It's a long shot. But just the possibility, clears my mind and pushes the soul crushing depression to the edges of my being. Still there, but muted.

I dig through every ounce of myself. My mind, my soul. That strange place where my power comes from. Searching for something may have meaning. The only thing I can feel, the only thing that stands out, are my feelings for her. My memories.

First seeing her, as she hid her chuckle when her father tripped out of the carriage. Even then I knew she was special. So beautiful. Yet I fought it so hard. When I danced with her, indulging in the safe moment that I wasn't me and could touch her. When I helped her escape that house, our bodies so close it made me ache to let go. Still I fought it. When I asked her if she was worth saving.

I pull back, and look at her soft face. So beautiful, even now that death clings to her. I know life still lingers. Whitley is still there. I run my thumb over her lips. "You're worth saving, Whitley." I whisper as the waves rock us. "I was so stupid to fight it for so long."

I press my lips to her cold ones, gently at first then forcefully. Desperately. The spark pulling towards her. I don't know what it means, but feels like magic, this passion I have for her. Maybe it is.

I pull back, tears stinging my eyes, running down my cheeks. "I love you," I tell her. I don't even know what that means. Maybe it's stupid to fall in love after only a few weeks. I don't care. This was an inevitably. Not because of some prophecy. Because this girl is incredible.

Suddenly, Whitley's eyes open and I feel several things at once. Jubilation, panic. Fear.

Her eyes aren't the same blue they once were. They're... golden. Shifting with colors of green and blue and purple and red.

I blink and release her for just a moment. Her expression is unreadable. Inhuman.

Her body sinks in the water and I rush to pull her back up, not sure if that even matters. But there's another hand on her now. Scaled and webbed, the siren's hand grasps at Whitley's forearm.

Then, several other forms rise from the water, surrounding me. My heart pounds.

"You can't have her." I tell them with a strained voice. Even I wouldn't believe me.

I keep my hold of Whitley, but so does the siren in front of me. She's smaller than most, hair black as night, skin covered in freckles. She hisses at me.

Then my mother rises, just feet from us. Her body much more solid now that she's in the water, but there's still a shimmer telling me she's not at her full strength. Not in this shallow of water.

But there's so many of them. I can't fight nine sirens at once. I can't win this.

"She belongs to us." My mother says so nonchalantly. "You've lost."