Page 13 of Female Fantasy
People are feebleminded and shortsighted, whether they lack the ability to walk a day in each other’s shoes or swim a mile in each other’s tails.
“In a sense, but the sirens have a wholly unnatural asset that gives them an unfair advantage, a strength that the mer lack no matter our numbers: raw magic in its purest form. We call it life force. True energy.”
Magic.
Magic is…real.
Magic exists.
The truth hits me like a thunderbolt. I am unsure why it takes me by surprise. After all, I have seen Ryke’s flesh turn to fin before my very eyes. But I realize I was waiting for some sort of scientific, logical explanation. I have always been ruled by fact.
Rarely have I been asked to believe in anything.
“And there is no way for the mer to acquire this forbidden magic and even the playing field?” I ask. “After all, the sirens were once mer. Surely it can be done.”
Before I can react, Ryke is right in front of me, covering me. So close I can feel the heat of his body warming mine. I will myself to not look down, to ogle at his form. He hooks one hand beneath my chin and forces my gaze upward. I look directly in his gleaming eyes, now darkening with the threat of danger.
My pulse skips. I grow lightheaded, faint.
“Not without becoming monsters ourselves. You see, little minnow, the mer might be as strong in mind, body, and spirit as their siren kin, but they have a weakness. One they are unwilling to sacrifice. A weakness the sirens willingly exploit.”
His breath ghosts across my lips.
My toes curl against the glass floor.
“What is this weakness you speak of?” I whisper.
“Not a what. A who.”
Ryke looks at me pointedly.
My stomach flips.
Then the sound swells, somehow growing louder and more urgent. I lift my hands to my ears, expecting to feel blood smearing across my palms. Ryke collects his objects in a sack made of an odd soft, malleable material and turns back to me.
“There are many questions you have yet to ask, Merriah.” My name falls from his lips, sweet as honeysuckle. “And much I must tell you. But not now. That conversation must wait until we reach the underpass.”
My eyes widen. “You cannot possibly mean…”
“I am taking you home,” he confirms, his head hanging in resignation. “To Atlantia.”
“But I cannot swim!” My panic bleeds from each syllable.
For the first time since the alarm began to sound, Ryke offers up a coy smile.
“That is no issue, my minnow,” he says.
All at once, I am consumed by the rush of a riptide.
And then the world around me grows still.
Chapter Four
I’m sitting upright in bed, avoiding working on my latest copywriting assignment by looking up NSFW fan art, when I hear my computer ping. Groaning, I say a silent prayer that it isn’t yetanothertext from last week’s Guinness World Record holder for shortest date. Or Tey, once again confirming details for Sunday dinner. With He Who Shall Not Be Named.
But it’s neither. In fact, it isn’t a text at all.
Curious, I scan the one billion tabs I have open in my browser until I notice the little red notification bubble. I discover it’s a message from my Evelyn Grace Carter fanfic group with the subject “A Tale of Salty Girls.”
