Page 35 of A Magic Deep & Drowning

Tension was building behind his temples, and he closed his eyes. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with between caring for Clara and keeping her safe from his mother. At the thought of Clara, his eyes sprang open.

“I have to go,” he told his friend, who was busy deboning another mackerel with her teeth. “I cannot leave her alone for long.”

“Do you know what you’re doing with that girl?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? Of course I know.”

Neese inclined her head the barest bit, a mocking show of respect that he only tolerated because she was his friend.

“And what of you?” Neese persisted.

“What of me?”

“If Thade is up to something—thinking of taking the throne, perhaps—then what forces will you call on to stop him?”

Maurits began to laugh, then saw the deadly earnest expression on her face. “I have no forces—you know that. And if Thade wants the throne so bloody badly, he may have it.”

In a flash of sharp teeth and tangled black hair, Neese was in front of him. She was his friend, yes, but she was also a deadly predator that could slice him from head to tail in the time itwould take him to blink. “You’ve spent too much time on land if you think that Thade won’t act quickly and dangerously,” she told him, her teeth glinting in the dark water. “Queen Maren is loved not just because she rules judiciously, but because she chose you for her heir after your sister died. You are seen as the great hope for the water. Thade, while connected and ambitious, is not well-liked.”

Maurits tried not to feel too pleased to hear her assessment of his brother.

“You smile, but it is hardly a light matter,” she reprimanded him. “Thade is ruthless, and will not extend the same consideration your mother does to the humans. For all their bluster, the water folk want to have good relations with those on land. Thade would not rule gently, and he would gladly destroy whatever diplomacy your mother has worked to build.”

“You rebuke me for spending too much time on land,” Maurits replied, his tone cool but his heart pumping fast and angry, “yet you fail to understand how the humans see us. They think nothing of diplomacy. The elder generation is determined to forget us and the bargain, while the younger generation is unaware of us completely. My mother has done nothing except wreak havoc on their livelihoods and loom over them like a threatening storm cloud.”

“So you disagree with her? You think the humans should be allowed to continue destroying everything in their path unchecked?”

Maurits scrubbed at his eyes, suddenly beyond tired. “I disagree with my mother about a great many things. I am not going to become entangled in a debate about the humans with you.”

There was only one human about whom he was particularly concerned, and right now she was sitting alone in a cave, hating him.

“If that is all, Neese?” he asked, already thinking of how he could win Clara’s trust back, how to earn a chance to hold her in his arms again.

She bowed her head, deeper this time. But Maurits didn’t miss the sharp flash of disappointment in her eyes. “That is all. Again, I do hope you know what you are doing, Prince.”

Chapter Twenty

Maurits did not know what he was doing.

The swim back to the cave was a pensive one, as thoughts of Clara swirled through his head. He was not proud of the inventory he kept of every look she had given him and the inflection of her voice in every word she had ever uttered, a means to measure her possible interest in him. It had been so much simpler on land, in the days before she knew who he truly was. She had been happy enough to walk beside him and kiss him when she thought he was a man, even if that man had been a servant or a fishmonger.

From every crevice, every bed of seaweed, eyes watched him. He supposed he had Thade to thank for the audience. But if what Neese had said about his brother was true, then why was he helping Maurits protect Clara?

He had just come to the narrow crevice that would open out to the entrance of the secret cave when a wavering smudge of white caught his eye against the dark weeds and rocks. He stopped. No, it couldn’t be... Clara couldn’t have been that foolish. But as he shot closer, her pale face, her unmoving chest, came into view with sickening clarity.

Snatching her into his arms, he began ascending, putting his mouth to hers as they shot upward. What had she been thinking?She was thinking that you are a monster, and that she had to get away from you, a little voice told him from the recesses ofhis mind.She was thinking that she would rather die trying to escape than submit to your company a moment longer.

They surfaced, but she was still limp, no sign of her lungs expanding on their own. Her skin was so cold that he could not tell where his touch ended and she began. What had he been thinking bringing her down here? He hadn’t been thinking, not with his head anyway. On land, she at least had a chance. She was not tethered to him, would be harder for his mother to find. Her people were up there; they would take care of her, wouldn’t they? As much as the humans intrigued Maurits on a singular basis, he did not have much faith in their institutions as a whole. He’d seen the orphanages, the poorhouses. The thought of Clara left to the mercy of one of those heartless places made him feel ill.

Laid out on the ground, Clara looked like a marble effigy, completely lifeless. But he put his ear to her chest, heard the faint flutter of life deep within. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, not just for what he was about to do, but for all that he had put her through already. With reverent hands, he placed his palms flat against the cold skin of her chest and began massaging. A moment later her eyes flew open and she began coughing. Flipping her quickly to her side, he watched as she coughed up a prodigious amount of water. When she was heaving with emptiness on her elbows, she cut him a caustic look.

“I need to give you air again,” he explained, a hint of apology in his voice. “Your lungs are weakened.” She stared back at him, all the light from her eyes dull and flattened. It hurt him in a visceral way; she could have died, and she simply didn’t care.

But she gave a short nod, her body stiffening in anticipation. Tender, hesitant, he bowed his head to hers. If he could only give her more than his breath. But now he knew the painful truth—she would rather die than accept anything from him. The most he could hope for was her safety. Hewould watch her from afar, try to protect her as well as he was able.

She accepted his mouth on hers, but it was a cold exchange. Still, he thrilled at the sensation of her soft lips, and tried to savor the taste of her until he could no longer justify his embrace. It would be the last time he held her in his arms, the last time he would know the feeling of her smooth cheek beneath the grazing of his thumb.

“You tried to escape,” he said, when he’d reluctantly let go of her.

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