Both young merlings grunted audibly, releasing bubbles of air from their mouths as Ferrifan’s shove caused them to collide hard enough to hurt. Zeriva shrugged it off with an irritated flick of her tail before smiling as she realized whose arms she was in, but she had little time to enjoy it. Coyrifan pushed her away to tread the cold water beside him and bid her remain there with a pointed thrust of his palm, his eyes still fixed on his grinning father.

Behind the chief, the soft coral walls of the family dwelling curved upward into a vaguely circular shape, undulating faintly in the gentle current. Other dwellings dotted the sandy floor where the natural ground jets they’d grown around kept the wives and daughters warm in spite of the shadow of the island that sheltered them in exchange for obstructing the sun’s light.

Sensing the dismay of the dozens of other merling men at his back, Coyrifan took ample time in choosing his words wisely. There was something alarming in the way Ferrifan’s pointed front teeth were clenched to the point of grinding, even though he appeared to be smiling. He was barely restraining himself, either in words or in physical violence. Words Coyrifan could handle, but he would be as a sliver of driftwood in his father’s large hands if the latter urge took control.

“I thank you for the gift, Chief Ferrifan,” he said in a formal tone, touching a closed fist against his own collar bone. The “gift” of another chief’s stolen daughter. “Is this esteemed occasion to be your announcement of war upon the Ghaleri, then?”

What else could it be, that he would guarantee reaping the wrath of Chief Abenfor Dal Evis Ghaleri by abducting Zeriva?

“Abenfor will have his war,” Ferrifan boomed so that all could hear, “but not today. This tender fingerling gave herself willingly in order to warn us of his plans.”

"Does this mean I've gone and gotten myself caught as a warbride?" Zeriva queried, her tickled expression indicating she was far from put off by the idea.

“Fair, no!” There was a cacophony of clacking and clattering as Coyrifan's mother burst from the dwelling behind the chief, flinging the curtain of shell and stone beads as she sped through. In an instant, she had draped herself like a cloak about Ferrifan’s shoulders, her small arms curled about his thick neck. Other women had also left their dwellings, seeking out their mates, fathers and brothers in the gathering outside of their leader’s home. There were many women with no one to join, perfectly correlating to the chief’s tendency toward violence when working out inter-tribal relations.

Nearly every member of the Mivusa tribe was there, radiating dread and reluctance toward the chief as loudly as if they’d spoken so much in actual words. The Mivusas were by no means weak, thanks to Ferrifan and his guardian heartbeast Meeoa, but she had been slowly sickening in her trench since that terrible last battle with Casendar’s infected beast, and everyone knew it. The members of the Mivusa tribe were much fewer now as well, and with less than a year past since that same battle, there was no time to recover their numbers. It was well known that the Ghaleri were far more populous, and in an all-out war, they might conceivably win for their sheer ability to overwhelm their foes.

Ferrifan faced his unwilling people with a look like a blocked ground jet, visibly trembling with pent-up umbrage while his fingers spasmed into claw-like shapes. The only thing holding him back was his wife, her small hands cupping his cheeks as she gazed pleadingly into his cold yellow eyes.

Coyrifan’s fists clenched as a white fire billowed up from the core of his belly, responding directly to his father’s threatening stance. He hadn’t even realized it had come until it had risen so high that he felt a telling sting in his teeth. He gritted them immediately, trying to choke back the feral anger. Even if he was inclined to give into it, it would come to nothing without Imyra.

He was still struggling with the burning emotion when Zeriva suddenly took his hand, threading her slender fingers through his. At her touch, the flames subsided just enough for Coy to regain control. They shared a fleeting glance before she looked away, appearing attentive toward Chief Ferrifan, who had gently gathered his wife into one arm and was gesturing loftily with the other.

“Do not be afraid, we have plenty of time to prepare,” the chief said with a loud, confident voice. “Abenfor was planning to spring a surprise attack when we gathered beyond the Howliths for the coming Flood-Muster. He’ll not surprise us now.”

With that, he dismissed everyone and bid them return to their business. Hand in hand, Coyrifan and Zeriva swam off toward the needlecoral beds, the merling female’s long black hair streaming out behind her as they went. Coy noticed that she wore a small package of wrapped kelp tied around one wrist that she did not have when he’d seen her in the secret cavern earlier that day.

“Did my father tell the truth, then?” he asked her. “You came to him and willingly revealed your own father’s plans?”

“I meant to tell you, actually,” she admitted. “I was just so angry about getting lost in those awful tunnels of yours that I’d forgotten why I went there to look for you in the first place. It just so happened that I spotted the chief’s hunting party on the way home.”

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At the memory of that unpleasant encounter, Coy halted and forcefully extracted his hand from Zeriva’s, shooting her a keen look when she tried to protest. “You revealed my secrets, as well.”

She shrugged, the small smile on her lips proof that she was completely unfazed by his accusation. “I was very angry.”

There was little use in educating the girl in the ugly consequences of that childish act. Instead, he led the way in continuing their course, the two young merlings swimming side by side through water stained a deep rose-violet in the early touches of moonlight. “Tell me more about your father’s plan. He was the one who approached Chief Ferrifan for peace talks first, yet he now plans to attack us outright during Flood-Muster?”

“The peace talks were always part of the plan. He watched well whenever he was let beyond the Howlers, learning everything he needs to know about the Mivusas.” She flicked her finger out toward the coral mountain that walled in the tribe’s dwellings. “Your dying guardian, for one. Father is certain she’s being consumed by the same disease that took all of the Ghaleri heartbeasts.”

Coy looked to the mountain, his eyes focusing beyond it in the direction where Meeoa rested in her trench. She didn’t look sick, but she’d lain in that hole for a long time outside of her brief hunts. Ferrifan had not roused her to go beyond the Howlith wastes since she became ill after almost single-handedly vanquishing Casendar and his tribe. So many men were lost that day, all over a petty insult carelessly tossed between the two bloodthirsty chiefs. To that day, Coyrifan still didn’t know who’d misspoken first.

His golden eyes fell again on Zeriva, mistrusting her even more for her apparent eagerness to be completely honest with him. “Why did you come to warn us?”

“I wanted to give the men time to flee for their lives. You see, our tribe has grown very large, but the last generation’s tides have brought a plenitude of male offspring who are now of age. We’re running a little low on females.”

That caused Coyrifan to pull up short again, half-convinced he’d misheard. In a gesture of pure disbelief, he held one hand just shy of cupping his temple and squinted at her. “Do you mean to say that Abenfor would slay another tribe’s men so that his own men may steal their wives and daughters?”

“Only one particular tribe, yes.” Zeriva turned around and swam back to him, stopping with her face just level with his and her tail suspended horizontally behind her. “I admit, with those other bride-prospects coming to join us, I’m rather relieved that I won’t be forced to marry my father’s pick of one of his ghastly friends. He said he would let me select a spouse from the Mivusa tribe, if any suitable men remained alive.” Dropping one shoulder, she reached to slip her hand into Coyrifan’s, her fingers delicately brushing his temple as she did so. “I came to warn you because I wanted to be certain to have my choice.”

The way Zeriva’s blue eyes gazed into his, her lashes dropping softly in a slow blink, stirred an odd tickle in Coyrifan’s chest.

He tore his hand away and swam as if the Howlers were awakening all around.

A delighted cackle burst from Zeriva, quickly devolving into her silly dolphin squeaks as she chased after him. “Wait! I have a present for you!” she called.

Coy didn’t even look back, making all haste for his nearest bolt hole into the coral mountain. “I don’t want it, thanks!”

“You’ll want this, I guarantee!”

Ignoring her, Coyrifan dove into an opening, passed by the first fork, and took the next straight back out into the open water through a secondary exit. As he’d hoped, Zeriva was nowhere to be seen. She’d gone in after him and taken the wrong turn. It would lead her to a dead end in only a few seconds, so he zipped off to a different hole and ducked inside, turning immediately to scoop some loose rocks into the entrance to camouflage it.

“Coyrifan?” Zeriva had already exited the short tunnel and was weaving about the area, scanning the coral beds for a likely hiding place.

As she neared his hideaway, Coy edged back from the entrance, trusting that if she saw it, she would think the partially-blocked hole too small and pass it by. She was just swimming over when a snapping sound cracked through the water and a flash of pain sent the startled male bolting straight out of the tunnel—and straight into Zeriva’s arms.

Zeriva squealed her delight as they spun several times while Coy attempted to extricate himself, craning his head back over his shoulder to see what had bitten him. To his relief, a large but otherwise harmless eel poked its head from the hole he’d left, a shred of tail webbing hanging from its clamped mouth.

He then realized that Zeriva had released him, and looked at her in confusion. It occurred to him a moment later that he should just take the chance to flee again, but he hesitated at the sight of the little kelp-wrapped package that she had taken from her wrist and now held in her hands. The merling’s natural curiosity gnawed at him, sharply enough that he quickly gave in and accepted it.

Unraveling the first strand of kelp revealed a faint reflection of Crylis’ light, prompting Coyrifan to hurry and tear away the rest. He could barely believe it when he uncovered the strangely-shaped moonstone that he was certain had been lost from his reach forever. “How did you get this, Zeriva?”

He’d been so engrossed in unwrapping the impossible thing that he hadn’t even noticed her edging closer, coming to lean against his back and rest her chin upon his shoulder while watching him open her gift. “After I led your father’s party to the cavern, they went in and searched out your pet manling. As they escorted her out, she slipped the thing into one of the small pools without their noticing. I thought it might be something elegant like a locket and snatched it up as soon as they’d left, but it was just a boring old moonstone. Still, now that she’s gone, I thought you might like it as something to remember her by.”

It was well that Zeriva believed Erin’s necklace was worthless, Coyrifan mused, else she never would have given it up.

“Thank you,” he said, already deep into formulating his next plan. Everything he’d worked for wasn’t all for naught, after all.

I’m coming soon, he whispered across the ocean. The warm embrace of Imyra’s love bubbled back, trusting him wholly at his word.