Page 32 of Rising


  Warm, sweet-scented water caressed Sara's skin as she floated. Each breath of water brought soothing floral smells and tastes. A hum of music tickled her eardrums and made her smile. It was a strange song. Each note flowed into the next as an odd dance of tone and melody. She’d never heard anything like it.

  Sara felt fingers weave through her hair, and then tug in a rhythm that reminded her of when her mother used to braid it. Someone was braiding her hair. Who could be doing such a thing?

  Maybe it was an angel. She must be dead. Why else would she be feeling such a sense of well-being? She remembered what had happened. Gael had stabbed her, trying to coax the sharks into attacking her. But they hadn’t come. She must have bled to death.

  Now Xanthus would never find her. How could he ever find her here? She was in heaven, out of reach, even for him. A sob shook her chest and pain shot through her stomach. Wasn’t she supposed to feel no pain?

  Sara’s eyes blinked open. She was in a large, underwater room. The walls were made of stone. Immense glass windows displayed an incredible view of coral reefs. They seemed to reach up and over the underwater building, cocooning it in a dome. All around the reef swam an array of tropical fish.

  She glanced around the room. The ceiling reached over twenty feet high. There were two very large sculptures on either side of the room. They were of dolphins breaching the surface, waves curling up the sides of their bodies.

  A beautiful voice lilted in Sara’s ears, singing words she didn’t understand. She turned to see who was singing. A young Dagonian, about her age, hovered nearby. Black, intricate braids floated in a halo around her head. The Dagonian woman’s face was breathtaking. Her eyes were dark, her skin the color of toffee. She held Sara’s braided hair in her hands. When their gazes met, the Dagonian woman blinked, and then her eyes widened in horror. Unfamiliar words burst from her mouth just before she let go of Sara’s hair and darted out the door. The flowing swish of a blue tail floated out behind her.

  Was this a dream? She looked like a mermaid. Her tail was different from Sara’s—blue, not flesh colored. And it was much more beautiful. Xanthus was wrong when he said her fin was perfect. It was much too plain.

  Sara chided herself. This was not the time to go all self-conscious about her tail. Her stomach was throbbing with pain, letting Sara know she wasn’t dead and she wasn’t dreaming.

  She needed to get out of here.

  Sara tried to swim, but she couldn’t get her fin to work right. She jerked her way toward the door. Each stroke of her tail brought sharp pains in her belly. She knew she had to hurry—the woman was probably going to get her big husband or maybe the police.

  Just as Sara was about to go through the door, she was met by someone frightening—the woman’s sister. At least, Sara assumed it was her sister. She was a close likeness to the woman who’d left, except she had cinnamon-brown braids. Now that Sara got a good look at the both of them, she was in awe. They both had tails complete with colorful scales. Their fins were long, flowing, and delicate. To top off their look, fin-shaped bikini tops covered their breasts like colorful butterfly wings. The two Dagonian women were much more beautiful than any image of a mermaid Sara had ever seen.

  She almost smiled at the stunning sight. Then she looked the brown-haired woman in the eye and was startled. She was staring Sara down with a hard glare.

  Sara braced for what was to come. The brown-haired Dagonian turned to her sister and spoke in clipped tones. She seemed satisfied about something. Maybe satisfied was too strong a word. More like resigned. She probably realized that Sara was not a threat and was completely inept at being in the water.

  The brown-haired woman gestured toward Sara. Her brunette sister hesitated a moment before she slowly approached. They each hooked an arm through Sara’s arms and floated her back to where they’d kept her before.

  The brown-haired sister spoke to Sara, as if giving her instructions. Sara didn’t understand a word of it. She looked at Sara as if expecting an answer.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  The Dagonian gasped. “You speak English?”

  Sara’s eyes widened. From what Xanthus had told her, very few Dagonians spoke English. Who was she?

  “You’re human?” she whispered.

  Sara knew Xanthus wouldn’t approve of her telling anyone she was human, but this Dagonian had already most likely figured it out. If the Dagonian knew she spoke English and had the cursed blue eyes, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Sara hesitated only a moment before she nodded. “Half,” she said.

  The brown-haired Dagonian barked out foreign words to her sister. Sara could tell they were talking about her. They looked as if they didn’t know what to do with her. Sara hoped they would let her go. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

  “I need to return to the surface.” Sara pointed up.

  “You live with humans?” the brown-haired Dagonian asked.

  “Yes, I do. I keep my fin hidden from them so they don’t know what I am. But still, I need to get back.”

  The woman nodded, apparently relieved. “Yes, you safer there. But you heal first. You died.”

  Sara assumed she meant she almost died, since Sara clearly wasn’t dead now. But she didn’t want to wait to heal. Xanthus had to be worried sick. If she was gone long, he’d assume she was dead.

  “I have to go now. I can’t wait.”

  The brown-haired sister shook her head. “Drink first.” She handed Sara what looked like a mermaid’s purse with a narrow tube. “You heal faster.”

  Sara was willing to do anything to appease these Dagonian women and get back to dry land—and a phone. She took it. The bitter-tasting drink didn’t go down well. Still, she drank the whole thing and handed it back to her.

  “Thank you. So how… Do I…”

  Funny, Sara couldn’t remember what she was just saying. Her mind felt hazy. A giggle escaped her lips. Now, what was it she needed to do?

  “A nap, that’s what I need to do. I need to take a nap.”

 
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