Princess Araxa's Arc

Chapter 11 of 14

Araxa leaves the cavern through a different opening than the one she entered, following a current that pulls her toward deeper water. Tide flickers beside her, his glow still dim. She doesn't know what she's looking for, only that staying in one place feels wrong when the guards might double back. The water shifts ahead, and she freezes. A merman drifts through the entrance she just left behind, his movement slow and careful. His scales glow with strange colors — white and lavender that pulse in patterns she's never seen before. Long hair floats around his shoulders in shades that match his scales, nothing like the deep indigo of her father's people. He carries a silver spear, but he holds it low, not ready to strike. Outside the cavern entrance sits a massive turtle shell, its surface glowing with indigo and lavender light. He came from somewhere far away to find this place. He's not a guard. He's not from her home at all. He sees her and stops moving. His eyes track to Tide, then back to her face. He reaches slowly into a pouch at his waist and pulls out a shell that makes her breath catch. The surface glows with bioluminescent white, and etched across it in indigo is an image of a mermaid — her tail, her hair, the curve of her shoulders. It looks like her. He holds it up so she can see it clearly, then speaks in words that sound like her language but shaped differently. "They know your face. They're showing this in every current between here and the stone arch." He doesn't ask if she's the princess. He already knows. Araxa's hand moves to the bone blade at her belt. The stranger doesn't raise his spear. He just keeps the shell extended toward her like an offering. "I came to tell you the guards aren't stopping. They're bringing more tomorrow, and they have shells like this one." He tilts his head toward the clamshell bed behind him. "Whoever lived here got away, but she had help. You'll need the same." Araxa takes the shell from his hand and stares at her own image glowing against her palm. The guards aren't searching anymore — they're hunting with her face marked for every merman in the unmarked waters to see. She can't hide in abandoned caverns and hope they pass by. She needs to move faster and farther than they can track, or she needs someone who knows these waters better than she does. She looks at the stranger and asks the only question that matters. "Why would you help me?"