For once, Leslyn was in one perfect accord with Kaleit. He’d been a tad slower on pinpointing just exactly what felt wrong about the stranger, but the moment the other youth had asked about Coyrifan’s missing boat, it hit him:

He’s a merling.

Koben’s cousin Arlis had also seemed to sense something off, but, based on the boy’s impossibly wide-eyed look after witnessing the transformation of the merling, he hadn’t guessed the truth until it quite literally splashed him in the face.

Erin, as usual, had about as much cognizance of her surroundings as a child would. Completely oblivious, except for her instinctive fear of the dark. Leslyn leaned into his oars with a resigned sigh.

Now sopping wet and chilled as they navigated the clammy innards of the cliffside, the party was carefully rowing through a series of narrow, winding side passages, following after the purple specks of light that reflected onto the dark walls and ceiling of the tunnel. Coyrifan remained under the water ahead of them, occasionally stopping to turn and peek at them with just the top of his head and his eyes showing above the surface.

It seemed a fairly playful act, but Leslyn couldn’t help but compare it to the way a crocodile observed its prey. Just why, exactly, was Koben so eager to trust this creature? Leslyn wasn’t entirely certain they could find their way back out of those tunnels, should Coyrifan decide to abandon them. He also wasn’t about to write off the possibility of a trap waiting for them somewhere ahead.

Then again, why go to all this trouble to lure them deeper into the caves? Why not just set his seabeast upon them when they were outside rowing over deep, open water? It would have been over as quickly as slapping an irritating insect between one’s palms.

“This is as far as your vessel can go,” the merling said, his foreign-sounding words so heavy with odd inflections that Leslyn could barely understand him. It was a testament to the centuries-long division between man and mer—or merely just the fact that he wasn’t accustomed to speaking when above the water.

Koben briefly checked the waters around the boat. “And the item?”

“I’ll fetch it, but I’ll need a volunteer to come with me.” Coyrifan’s fat-lipped smile took on a touch of humor at the annoyed looks he got from Leslyn and Kaleit. “Can’t have you deciding to renege on our established agreement and leave while I’m away, can I?” The merling’s eyes shifted toward Erin, who was leaning far enough over the edge of the boat that all it would take was the slightest jiggle of the vessel to send her tumbling overboard.

A sudden chill of understanding sent Leslyn abruptly to his feet. “I’ll go.”

The merling pointed at Erin. “I’d like to take her, if it suits.”

“Of course you would,” Kaleit snapped, also rising. “You may consider us fools, but we are well aware of what you are. You’ll take me to this ‘item’ of yours, and I’ll make sure you bring it back here to Koben.”

Everyone looked over at the sound of Koben loudly clearing his throat. “The fact of the matter is,” he began with an unusually solemn voice, “you younglings were sent here with me to learn how to properly obey orders, and to work as a unit under a singular authority greater than yourselves. There will be no votes or volunteering today. You’ll trust your captain and do exactly as he says, even if it doesn’t make sense in your eyes. This is the essence of what it means to serve in the Guard.”

He spoke to all of them, but his eyes were on Kaleit as he said that last. The tall youth’s stare was intense with resentment, but he said nothing.

“I trust you’re willing to take on three as company?” the prince asked of the merling.

“Only three?” Coyrifan sounded disappointed.

“Alas, my dear cousin cannot swim.” Koben patted Arlis’ shoulder. “And I’ve his mother to face if I should dare to let him come to any gratuitous harm.”

The merling nodded. “Ah, ‘tis unfortunate. Rest assured, Prince Koben, I will return your company of three back to you in just a few minutes.”

With the slightest hesitation, Leslyn stepped over the wall of the rowboat and got into the dark water. He sucked in a hissing breath as the cave-chilled liquid closed in on every inch of his body. It was far too cold to be enjoyable, but not so cold that his muscles seized. Also, he could just touch the bottom, which he actually would have preferred was not the case. He knew the kinds of creatures that lived in the ocean shallows, those that pinched or poked or felt like perfectly good rocks until enough weight was put on them, then they cracked and collapsed in on themselves with a sickening squish.

As soon as Erin and Kaleit were also in the water, Coyrifan waved them closer to one of the walls. “It’s quite dark, but just follow the tunnel. Keep going, and it will be mere seconds before you’ll come to the next air pocket.” With that, he dove down into the water, disappearing into a black hole in the rock wall.

“I can’t go in there,” Erin immediately insisted, her eyes large as they ogled the inky entrance.

Grimly, Leslyn couldn’t help but silently admit to feeling the same way.

Ignoring them, Kaleit took a long breath, then went under and vanished just as completely as the merling had.

“You go next,” Leslyn told the girl. “I’ll be right behind you, and if you freeze, I’ll get you to the air. Just try not to freeze, all right?”

“I’m already freezing,” Erin said, clearly only half-understanding his meaning. Still, she placed herself above the hole, gulped some air, and plunged for all she was worth.

Steeling himself, Leslyn glanced back toward the boat one last time.

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Gripping the side of the vessel with both white-knuckled hands, Arlis watched with fearful eyes. “Be careful down there,” he said in a small voice.

Inversely, with an elbow braced on the side of the rowboat and his chin resting upon his palm, Koben had been watching them with a fond, perfectly-at-ease smile. He waved at Leslyn, who took that as his cue to dive.

Almost immediately, he could see only a black nothingness within the underwater tunnel. He heard the thrum of limbs beating their way forward, and a steady rhythmic rumble like an incredibly deepened bubbling of boiling water as the ocean’s ebb and flow continued even there in the tunnels. It was difficult to balance moving as fast as he could while also feeling blindly along to avoid swimming right into the tunnel walls.

At one point, he felt the water in front of him flow backward, shoving him away as he got too close to Erin’s kicking feet. He almost cried out in surprise, but somehow caught it in time, clamping his mouth shut and refocusing on holding in what little air he had left.

The tunnel walls closed in and became frighteningly narrow, but it gave him no choice but to notice instantly when the back of his head broke the surface of the water. He flipped onto his back and gulped in as much air as he could, wishing there was something he could hold onto to lift as much of his body out of the water as possible.

When he finally felt like he was able to breathe properly again, Leslyn became aware of other sounds in the thin pocket of air. Erin was somewhere nearby, and she was most definitely crying, though very quietly, as if trying to hide it.

He fumbled his way over to her, practically crawling through the shallow black void, feeling the edges of panic rising within himself and viciously kicking it back down.

“I can’t,” came Erin’s shaky voice. “I can’t move. It’s so dark. I can’t breathe. I’m gonna die here.”

“You’re breathing just fine,” Leslyn said. “The air’s a little stale, but it’s fine.”

She jerked away with a loud gasp when he grabbed her arm without giving her enough warning, but then she relaxed considerably. “I almost didn’t make it,” she said after a while, clinging to his hand with both of hers. “I couldn’t hold my breath anymore.”

“Same,” Leslyn admitted. “In fact, you almost kicked it out of me.”

She didn’t laugh, but the soft exhale through her nose indicated that she understood his intent to lighten the mood with a joke. “Now what do we do?” she asked. “Any idea how much further we’re supposed to go?”

“No. It can’t be too far, though. He knows we’re not merlings.”

“If it’s too much, I can take her the rest of the way,” Kaleit said, his voice empty and flat. He’d been there all along, somewhere there, in the dark. Leslyn suspected he sounded the way he did for the very same reason Erin had openly cried over.

“No, I’ll do it myself,” Erin said, sucking in a shuddering breath, “but if it’s any longer than that last tunnel, I’m going to need help.”

“Go ahead of us, then.”

“What? I can’t go first—what if there’s something there?”

“Look, stupid girl. If you’re falling behind, you can’t exactly tell us that you need someone to turn back for you. There’s nothing in the tunnel except that merling.”

“Whatever. I hope a crab snips your finger off.”

The angry spurt of adrenaline must have done Erin some good, for she waited only a brief moment longer before continuing on, crawling along until the water reached the ceiling of the tunnel again and she was forced to go under and swim.

Thankfully, the second stretch of tunnel was shorter than the last, and the trio came up into a cavern. A hole in the ceiling let in a stark beam of sunlight about ten feet square, laying about halfway across the water and halfway across the rock shelf it lapped against. Avoiding the coral growths that pocked the water within the beam, the swimmers went right for that light, not even bothering to get to their feet once they’d reached it. They just climbed out far enough to turn and sit on the edge of the rock with their legs hanging off into the water, drinking in the sun as if they hadn’t seen it in weeks instead of just minutes.

Coyrifan popped up in the patch of lit water, watching them with a bemused grin. “I was wondering what took you so long. I forgot how much you shorelings hate water.”

“Seeing thousands of ships and everyone on them destroyed by barbarian fishfolk can do that to people,” Kaleit snapped.

“Good to know how you truly feel,” the merling said, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

No wonder he gets along so well with Koben, Leslyn thought. They’re both as exhaustingly unflappable as can be.

“Is that what Koben meant, then?” Erin wondered aloud, her eyes on Coyrifan’s silvery tail fins as they idly fanned the water behind him. “About him not looking like a warrior?”

The merling shrugged. “I’m not a warrior.”

“So you hide behind your beast, then.” Kaleit, of course.

“A little hard to do that, at present.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“In good time, shoreling. Also, we’re not fishfolk.” To illustrate, he swung his tail forward to the surface, a sudden flash making Leslyn cover his eyes as his scales reflected the bright sunlight. The merling gripped one of the purple scales between his fingers and pulled, wiggling it until it finally came loose. This he handed to Kaleit, who held it up into the light.

“It’s moonstone,” he said, voice gone faint with surprise. “How do you have enough moonstone to outright cover yourselves with it?”

“It’s simple, really. When Crylis was shattered, most of his broken parts fell into the ocean. The tiny spikes of land you shorelings live on made much more difficult targets, I’m afraid.”

“That makes sense, I suppose. All we’ve found was enough for the rare medallion or ring,” Kaleit said. “A few people have them nowadays, but they’re almost never brand new pieces. They’re usually passed down through the family.”

Leslyn noticed that Erin’s hand went to the heart-shaped necklace she always wore. They’d never talked about it, but, based on the conversation, he wondered if it had once belonged to someone dear to her.

“So you use the crystal as some sort of armor, then?” Kaleit guessed.

Coyrifan laughed. “It certainly beats having one’s tail punctured by an unmindful sweep too close to the needlecoral beds. I’m quite prone myself, being there daily.”

“I’m curious about something,” Leslyn said, thinking about the smooth silver skin that had lain beneath the false scale. “If you’re not fishfolk, what are you? Do you have cold blood, like the fish, or warm blood, like manlings? I would have guessed cold, if your scales had been natural.”

“How can you tell the difference?”

“Well, here, just touch my hand. If you’re warmer than the water, then you’re like us.”

The merling stared at Leslyn’s outstretched hand for a moment, then smirked. Next thing anyone knew, he’d propelled himself up above the ledge they sat on, propping himself up with a hand planted on either side of Erin’s legs. That brought him eye to eye with her just long enough to plant a peck on her lips before dropping back to disappear into the blackness under the water.

Both Kaleit and Leslyn instinctively moved as if to take action, but once they realized what had happened, Leslyn just sighed and Kaleit rolled his eyes toward the roof of the cavern.

Coyrifan came back up while Erin was still covering her mouth, a blush spreading across her pale cheeks. “Warm,” she confirmed, refusing to make eye contact with any of her current companions. “And he smells like something very familiar. Not fishy at all. A cooking herb… maybe thyme?”

“It’s the preparation we use to protect ourselves from the harshest waters of the ocean,” Coyrifan explained. “The plant we get the necessary oil from grows abundantly among the needlecoral, which is a good thing, as we need copious amounts of it.”

“I can imagine,” Leslyn said.

“It also tastes quite pleasant, so we eat it often. Hence my being there every d—”

“All right,” Kaleit said, “we’ve talked long enough. Where is this item you’re to bring to Koben?”

Instead of being miffed at the interruption, Coyrifan smiled brightly. “She’s right here.”