swished her powerful tail, propelling them forward.
Panic rose in Filo. His heart was bouncing frantically against his ribs, and the burning in his lungs was unbearable. Above him, the glimmer of moonlight through the dark water grew fainter.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Filo attempted to gather his magic into his hands, but between the terror leaping in his veins and the swirling water, he couldn’t force his magic together.
Pressure was building inside Filo’s head. Strength drained steadily from his limbs, and bubbles of air escaped his mouth. He inhaled a small amount of water and tried vainly to cough it back up as fiery pain blossomed in his lungs. As if from far away, Filo felt his body go limp.
A flash of green caught his unfocused eyes. A dark shape was moving toward them with swift, steady strokes. The mermaid slowed, turned, and Filo stared uncomprehendingly at the shape. It was clearer, more obvious, now that he could make out the figure’s eyes: green and magic-lit. Those were Henry’s eyes.
Another green flash lit the water, and Filo felt the mermaid’s hand release him. More green light slicing through the water. The mermaid recoiled, then swished her tail, turned, and began to swim away.
The moment she released him, Filo began to sink. This time, he didn’t even try to save himself. There was no strength left in his limbs.
A hand grabbed him and hauled him upward, through the darkness, though Filo couldn’t say for how long. Cold air stung his face, and for a moment, he was confused. Then his mouth opened, and he began to cough violently, trying to expel the water from his lungs.
Even as he coughed, Filo became dimly aware of his surroundings: He was in the sea. His mind reeled, still unable to focus. He was in water. Deep water. Panic seized him. He floundered.
“Filo!” a voice snapped. “Filo!”
And there was Henry, grabbing Filo by the back of his shirt and holding firmly, treading water like it was nothing at all.
“Calm down,” Henry panted. His dark hair was plastered to his face and his eyes were still magic-bright. “I’ve got you, okay? Just calm the hell down or you’ll drown us both!”
For a moment, Filo’s mind struggled to align itself with his body. A moment passed, though, and he managed to stop struggling. Heart still pounding, lungs still burning, Filo allowed himself to be more or less towed back to the shore.
As soon as he felt something solid beneath his feet, he stumbled the last few yards through the shallows and onto the beach and was promptly doubled over on the sand by another coughing fit. He retched, spewing up salt water.
Footsteps pounded the sand, and suddenly he was surrounded by the others.
“Give him some air,” he heard Henry caution.
Eyes squeezed shut, Filo coughed up the last of the water. Each breath stung like needles piercing the insides of his lungs, but at least he could breathe. The air felt extraordinarily cold against his wet skin.
The merfolk weren’t singing anymore, he realized, glancing over his shoulder toward the water. The only sound was the rush of waves against the shore.
“They’ve called it a night,” Clementine said. In the moonlight, her blond hair looked almost white, and her skin was incredibly pale. Her eyes were the only spots of color in her face. “I think we probably should, too.”
* * *
“You’re back!” Lee was standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in the tank top and shorts in which she usually slept. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun.
“What happened?” Nasser asked immediately. The sight of her took the slightest edge off his panic, but he couldn’t relax.
When Nasser had snapped back into consciousness, sprawled on the sand and gasping like a fish, Davis had been crouching nervously over him, asking what was wrong. For a moment, while Nasser’s head was hazy with residual energy, he wasn’t sure. Even after his mind had cleared, he couldn’t quite articulate what had
Panic rose in Filo. His heart was bouncing frantically against his ribs, and the burning in his lungs was unbearable. Above him, the glimmer of moonlight through the dark water grew fainter.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Filo attempted to gather his magic into his hands, but between the terror leaping in his veins and the swirling water, he couldn’t force his magic together.
Pressure was building inside Filo’s head. Strength drained steadily from his limbs, and bubbles of air escaped his mouth. He inhaled a small amount of water and tried vainly to cough it back up as fiery pain blossomed in his lungs. As if from far away, Filo felt his body go limp.
A flash of green caught his unfocused eyes. A dark shape was moving toward them with swift, steady strokes. The mermaid slowed, turned, and Filo stared uncomprehendingly at the shape. It was clearer, more obvious, now that he could make out the figure’s eyes: green and magic-lit. Those were Henry’s eyes.
Another green flash lit the water, and Filo felt the mermaid’s hand release him. More green light slicing through the water. The mermaid recoiled, then swished her tail, turned, and began to swim away.
The moment she released him, Filo began to sink. This time, he didn’t even try to save himself. There was no strength left in his limbs.
A hand grabbed him and hauled him upward, through the darkness, though Filo couldn’t say for how long. Cold air stung his face, and for a moment, he was confused. Then his mouth opened, and he began to cough violently, trying to expel the water from his lungs.
Even as he coughed, Filo became dimly aware of his surroundings: He was in the sea. His mind reeled, still unable to focus. He was in water. Deep water. Panic seized him. He floundered.
“Filo!” a voice snapped. “Filo!”
And there was Henry, grabbing Filo by the back of his shirt and holding firmly, treading water like it was nothing at all.
“Calm down,” Henry panted. His dark hair was plastered to his face and his eyes were still magic-bright. “I’ve got you, okay? Just calm the hell down or you’ll drown us both!”
For a moment, Filo’s mind struggled to align itself with his body. A moment passed, though, and he managed to stop struggling. Heart still pounding, lungs still burning, Filo allowed himself to be more or less towed back to the shore.
As soon as he felt something solid beneath his feet, he stumbled the last few yards through the shallows and onto the beach and was promptly doubled over on the sand by another coughing fit. He retched, spewing up salt water.
Footsteps pounded the sand, and suddenly he was surrounded by the others.
“Give him some air,” he heard Henry caution.
Eyes squeezed shut, Filo coughed up the last of the water. Each breath stung like needles piercing the insides of his lungs, but at least he could breathe. The air felt extraordinarily cold against his wet skin.
The merfolk weren’t singing anymore, he realized, glancing over his shoulder toward the water. The only sound was the rush of waves against the shore.
“They’ve called it a night,” Clementine said. In the moonlight, her blond hair looked almost white, and her skin was incredibly pale. Her eyes were the only spots of color in her face. “I think we probably should, too.”
* * *
“You’re back!” Lee was standing in the kitchen doorway, dressed in the tank top and shorts in which she usually slept. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun.
“What happened?” Nasser asked immediately. The sight of her took the slightest edge off his panic, but he couldn’t relax.
When Nasser had snapped back into consciousness, sprawled on the sand and gasping like a fish, Davis had been crouching nervously over him, asking what was wrong. For a moment, while Nasser’s head was hazy with residual energy, he wasn’t sure. Even after his mind had cleared, he couldn’t quite articulate what had
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