Page 91 of A Sea So Cruel
She guided him to the brambles near the terrace. “Stay here until I can figure this out,”
Linnea said. “We will be okay.”
She may have lied.
The onslaught of merfolk kept coming, Halsten and Niklas doing what they could to hold them off. But that was all they were doing—holding them off. What if help never came? Halsten was hardly maintaining balance without his cane. If they were required to run, he would need to be left behind or carried.
Linnea raced back into the fight, though all she held was a dagger she grabbed from Gyrial’s belt. Sirens and finfolk came for the fallen fae hiding in the bushes and Linnea used them against each other as best as she could. Windmill Arms truly made for the best secret weapon. She kept feeding him more victims as he shredded through them. His bloodlust was blinding at this point, and he had no idea who he was harming. Other than that, Linnea had no strategy.
Halsten and Niklas moved their fights to stand next to Linnea, guarding Gyrial. He had protected them every step of the way. It was their turn to show the fae loyalty.
Linnea wished, more than anything, that Tova was well enough to help them. Even though she could not use her sea dragon on land, having a siren warrior next to them would surely give them a greater advantage. For now, the sea dragon was being cared for in the infirmary by the very staff they were trying to protect.
The sea spawn came with attacks so brutal that Linnea questioned if they were simply prolonging defeat. She could only shove so many warriors toward Windmill Arms before they caught on.
As the hoard began closing in on them, a ring of metal caught everyone’s attention. They all turned to see King Botmar unsheath a sword.
The king of Salendron swung a dark-metaled blade and cut down three merfolk at a time, shrieks carrying through the air and bouncing off the stone castle walls to double back as a reminder of the violence.
Linnea watched as her uncle, her savior, brought down their enemies with ease. Though he was making great work of it, they kept multiplying as they emerged from the sea.
King Botmar’s sword seemed to bring down the beasts with a greater force than she had seen previously.
“What is that?” she shouted. She kicked out a leg, pushing a finfolk back into a siren looming behind them.
“Iron sword!” King Botmar responded.
Iron. The one thing Linnea figured out had subdued magical species.
She grabbed Gyrial by the chain between his cuffs and dragged him from the brambles, leading him to the king. Gyrial stumbled but jogged behind her, clearly understanding her thoughts.
She approached Botmar and pushed Gyrial toward him, who held out his arms as best as he could. Between cutting down groups of warriors, King Botmar turned and struck through the iron chain. And though Gyrial still wore iron cuffs that weakened him, breaking the connection between limbs freed him.
Chapter 54
Asta glided through the water on the back of Thurs, who appeared the moment she began her journey to Orntali. The mare always knew when she needed her.
Her satchel felt heavy, still containing the comb and mirror. If she had to use them, she would. But the siren artifacts were destructive and unforgivable.
To Asta’s surprise, Revna appeared next to her, riding a subordinate kelpie.
“Where you go, I go,” the siren warrior shouted over the noise of sea currents in Asta’s ears.
She didn’t know she had earned such loyalty from Revna, but she was honored. For fear of spooking off the siren, Asta bit her tongue to hold back that thought.
The kelpies rode at preternatural speed—the kind that made Asta nauseous—but she held on. Every second gained was a second closer to rescuing her friends and Linnea.
Their heads breached open air as the kelpies rose to the surface and Salendron was in sight.
Asta gripped the reins, giving them a flick. “Go, Thurs! Go!”
Asta’s purple fin tingled, morphing back into her familiar human legs. She risked a glance toward Revna, who was also transformed into her land form.
As they approached the shore, the familiar sounds of battle overpowered the sounds of the waves around them. Asta’s grip on the reins tightened.
After what felt like an eternity, they hit sand, the kelpies transforming to their dapple gray and galloping toward the chaos.
Asta jumped from her mare, rolling to absorb the impact and landing back on her feet like a feline. She ran, slashing her blade through any unrecognizable face she saw.
