Page 64 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

Caspian had flatly refused the kelpies’ offer for a ride, which was understandable, also refusing to letmeride one of the horses. He held my hand tightly as if afraid the horses would spirit me away, but I didn’t really mind. It was a pleasant enough, if cold, day for a walk, and a good day for my lungs too, and Caspian’s hand in mine gave me a strength I didn’t want to look at too closely just yet.

He brought the back of my hand to his lips absently. “You’re rather stuck with me helping you, I’m afraid,” he said, his smile softening into something a little more tender. “Urchin.”

“Seagull,” I replied, trying not to dwell on the fact that our days here were numbered. A tiny rebellious part of me thought about suggesting we just stay here on this secluded island for a while. We had food and water and shelter, and we could keep each other warm as the colder months set in. I shook away the thought irritably. His people needed him, even if mine didn’t need me.

“What’s that face for?” Caspian asked, pulling me to a stop and looking down at me.

“Nothing,” I lied, trying to smile.

“Nothing, huh?” Caspian replied, swiping away the tear that had leaked out of the corner of my eye unbeknownst to me.

I cringed, hunting for something to say that wouldn’t paint me as a romantic fool. Seas below, I still didn’t even really know this male. There was no point in pining for what couldn’t be.

“I was just thinking about how your people need you,” I said, deciding on a half truth, if not the whole. “But mine don’t really need me. Are you not desperate to get back to them?”

“I am,” he said, frowning down at me. “But I think you are more important to your people than you realize, Marina.”

I scoffed, trying to pull him to keep walking up the bank. I had very little power, either magically or politically, my worthiness wholly tied up in my ability to mate to a strong, selkie male. Caspian couldn’t understand that world, coming from one where females were first mates and the king was treated as a peer.

Caspian acceded to walking, still frowning down at me. “You’re important to me,” he confessed, making my stupid heart lurch fiercely again. “And I’ve known you only for days.”

“It’s been at least a week and a half now,” I argued, trying to change the subject. “Longer, if you consider all the life-saving I’ve had to do.”

He chuckled, but it was a hollow sound devoid of its usual warmth. I wondered if the reminder of our short acquaintance had made him rethink some of his confessions to me the night before.

You walk slowly, Little Goddess,Ran said, emerging from the stream with a disgruntled, watery neigh.We would have been there twice over if you had agreed to ride.

“It’s your own fault that we won’t accept your offer,” I scolded, turning an austere look on him. “People don’t want rides from ponies who try to drown them.”

Ran bristled, his form losing some of its solidity for a moment.I am not a pony.

He sounded so adorably indignant, I couldn’t help the laugh that sputtered out of me. It turned into a cough, but it was short lived. “You’re a veryhandsomewater pony,“ I agreed, deciding that teasing the kelpie was too fun for me to exercise caution around him anymore. For some reason, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. “You know, you could have just asked me for my help instead of drowning my friend.”

You are sick,Ran replied, ignoring the jab about drowning Caspian in that selective, clipped way of his. His voice was rather concerned in my head, and my affection for the bristly kelpie grew.

“My lungs don’t work correctly,” I explained, feeling Caspian take and squeeze my hand at this explanation. “But I’m alright. Caspian helped me.”

Mates protect each other, Ran declared, tossing his head in approval.As it should be. He is good for you.

I rolled my eyes, making an irritated sound at the kelpie, who snorted knowingly.

“What’s he saying now?” Caspian asked, glaring suspiciously at Rannoch.

“He’s being nosy,” I replied, suddenly very grateful that Caspian couldn’t hear him. “How—”

I paused on a gasp, my mind suddenly flooded with a sense of darkness.

“Marina?” Caspian asked, gripping my shoulders. “What is it?”

I had been stretching out my water sense to practice, and the kelpie’s lake suddenly entered my awareness. Something dark and oily lurked in its depths. Something evil.

You sense the lake, Ran said, pawing his hooves at the stream.

“Yes,” I said, “the lake. It feels wrong.”

“Should we stop?” Caspian asked, glaring at Ran who neighed in protest.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, smiling faintly at him. “It just surprised me. How long has it been like this?”