Tandis Nightshade had come back to the rocks a fourth night to win a merfolk prince her people said would curse her. Her kin believed the sea was poison. If they learned she wanted a creature who lived beneath it, they would cast her out. She crouched low on the wet stone and waited, red hair stuck to her cheek. The water broke without a sound. He rose to his chest, the same prince who had stared at her during the storm. Dark blue hair clung to his shoulders. Gold bands circled his arms. His green eyes fixed on her and did not blink. Tandis did not know how merfolk greeted anyone. On the surface, her people touched two fingers to the throat for peace. But she had no idea what that meant down there. One wrong move could name her an enemy from the land. She raised her hand slowly. Palm out. Fingers spread. She kept it there, still, so he could see it held nothing. The prince flinched. His tail slapped the water, and he sank until only his eyes showed. Tandis froze. Her open palm had frightened him. Among his people, she guessed, an open hand meant something else. "Wait," she said. "I don't know your ways. Show me. Please." He watched her a long moment. Then he lifted one hand from the water and pressed it flat against his own chest, over the heart. He held it there. Tandis understood. She lowered her raised hand and copied him. She pressed her palm to her chest. Her heart beat hard against it. The prince rose again. Slowly, he reached out and set his wet fingers over the back of her hand. His skin was cold. He did not pull away. "Marius," he said. His voice was rough, like he rarely used it above the waves. "I am Marius." "Tandis," she whispered. For the first time she had not marked herself as a threat. She had spoken to him, touched him, learned the gesture his people used to mean trust. Relief loosened her chest. Then Marius went stiff. He looked past her, over her shoulder, toward the cliffs. His grip tightened on her hand. A lantern swung on the path above. Then another. Voices carried down the wind, low and searching. Her people. They had followed her to the rocks. Marius dropped her hand. "They cannot see me," he said fast. "And you cannot be seen with me." "I know," Tandis said. "Tomorrow. Deeper cove, past the black stones." He looked at her once more. "Come alone. If they learn of you, I cannot protect you here." He dove. The water closed over him. Tandis pressed herself flat to the rock. The lanterns swung closer. She had won his trust and learned his greeting. But now her own people hunted the shore, and they were almost on top of her.

The lanterns had swung past Tandis that night, and she had crawled home in the dark unseen. But her family learned she had gone out. Now they watched the rocks. Every night, her brothers walked the shore with lanterns, and her mother sat at the door until dawn. They did not know about Marius. They only knew she slipped away. If they caught her once more, they would cast her out. And Marius waited past the black stones, in the deeper cove, for a girl who could no longer reach him. Tandis lay awake three nights. She listened to her family's boots on the stone outside. She could not run past them. She could not outrun a lantern. So she stopped trying to hide from them, and thought about the water instead. On the fourth night, she waited until the tide dropped. Then she climbed down the far side of the cliff, below the path her brothers walked. She slid into the cold sea and swam. The lanterns bobbed high above her, useless. Their light could not reach the water. She kept her head low and pulled herself past the black stones, out of their sight. Marius surfaced beside her. His dark blue hair spread on the surface. His green eyes were sharp with worry. "You did not come," he said. "Three nights, I waited." "They watch the shore now," Tandis said. Her teeth chattered. "I can't walk the rocks anymore. If they see me, I lose everything." Marius reached out and pressed his cold hand flat over his own chest. Then he held it toward her. "Then do not walk," he said. "Swim. The land is theirs. The water is mine. Here they cannot follow." Tandis pressed her own hand to her chest, over her pounding heart. She copied his gesture. The lantern light glowed far above, small and helpless. For the first time, the sea felt like a door, not a curse. "They will still guard the rocks," she said. "I can never go back to them." "You came to me instead," Marius said. He steadied her in the cold current. "That is a choice, Tandis. You cannot take it back." She knew he was right. She had crossed water her people called poison. She had swum to the one they called cursed. If her family found her wet at dawn, they would know she had gone into the sea, and no lantern watch would ever let her free again. The old path was closed behind her now. Tandis floated in the deeper cove, her hand still on her heart. She had beaten the lantern patrol. But she had traded the shore for the sea, and the sea belonged to Marius and his people. Come morning, she would have to explain wet hair and salt on her skin, and she had no lie left that would hold.

Tandis dragged herself onto the far side of the cliff before dawn. Her clothes clung wet and cold. She had beaten the lantern patrol once by swimming below it. But now sunlight touched the water, and she heard voices above. Her brothers had changed their watch. They no longer waited for night. They searched the cliff's far side by day, the one path she had left. If they saw her climb up soaked in seawater, they would cast her out at once. She pressed flat against the rock and listened. Two brothers walked the ledge overhead. One kicked loose stones down past her head. "She goes into the water," he said. "Check the low rocks." Their boots moved toward the very ledge she needed. She could not climb up. She could not stay. The tide was rising to cover her. Marius surfaced below her, silent. His dark blue hair spread on the swell. His green eyes found the ledge where the boots scraped, then found her. "They hunt the day now," he whispered. "There is no dark left to hide you." "I can't go up," Tandis said. "I can't stay down here. The water's coming." He pressed his cold hand flat over his own chest, then reached it toward her. She knew the gesture. Trust. "You already crossed," he said. "The shore was closed the night you swam to me. Stop climbing back to a door that is shut." A brother shouted above. "Wet marks! She came up here!" A lantern, useless in daylight, clattered on the stone. They had found the place she always climbed. In a moment they would look straight down. Tandis looked up at the ledge, then down at Marius's open hand. She had one breath to choose. She let go of the rock. She dropped into the sea. The cold closed over her head. Marius caught her waist and pulled her under, away from the cliff, into deep green water. She held her breath and kicked. Above them the surface shrank to a pale ceiling. She saw two shapes lean over the ledge, searching the rocks she had just left. They saw nothing but water. Marius drew her to a shelf of stone below the tide line. Air pooled there in a pocket under the rock. She broke the surface and gasped. "They saw the marks," she said. "They know I went in the water." "Then they know you are gone," Marius said. "They will not find a body. They will not find you climbing back. To them you are dead or cursed." Tandis pressed her hand to her own chest. Her fingers shook. She had not just missed the patrol. She had vanished from the shore entirely. No lie remained to tell her family, because she would never face them again. The land was closed. Only the sea was left, and the prince beside her, and the air in this small stone pocket that would not last the rising tide.