And I can feel my body change.

My hair lengthens, takes on a life of its own as it swirls and whips through the water. My skin whitens, changing from the tan color the sun gave me to the color of white pearls. My nails lengthen and sharpen ever so slightly. I can breathe even while under the water. I can move effortlessly through it. I can see as well as if I were on land, night or day. I feel connected to the sea life around me. The snails on the rocks deep below me. The fish swimming far to the right. The plants swaying in the light current below. Even the tiny creatures that can’t be seen with my eyes. I can still feel them.

I want nothing more than to swim and simply enjoy the feel of the water flowing by me as I propel myself forward.

But a weight prohibits my swim.

I almost forgot. There’s a man with me. His eyes are open, even through the salty water. He’s watching me with clear astonishment.

As he should. I am power and beauty. I am song and water. I rule the sea and all creatures within it.

The man points upward. Then he gestures to his throat. A trail of blood mixes in the water, flowing behind us. A nearby acura eel smells it, but then it senses me and flees in the other direction.

The man shakes me, gripping my arm. I return my attention to him. Ah, he is drowning. He needs air if he is to survive.

I will relish watching him squirm and drown. It’ll be an enjoyable spectacle as I continue to swim and become one with the soothing waters. Perhaps I’ll dance with his lifeless body afterward.

He begins kicking his feet, trying to reach the surface on his own, but his injuries are too great for him to manage it, and my grip is too strong for him to ever get away.

Finally, he stops struggling. Instead he puts his hands on either side of my face, straining to look into my eyes. He presses his lips to mine once before he is still.

At that simple motion, something awakens inside me. Riden. This is the man who got himself shot by helping me escape from Vordan, and now I’m letting him drown.

Instantly, I swim for the surface. He’s not breathing, even above the water. I need to get him to land. I sense around me for interruptions in the water, looking for something large that resists the flow of the natural currents around me. There is a ship not too far off. Riden’s ship. They must be searching for him.

Faster than anything else in the water, I swim for the ship. Like a bird in the air, I pass through effortlessly, mounting league after league.

I’m swimming toward my other captors yet again, but I cannot hand myself over to them without a plan of escape. Panic sets in. There’s no time. Every second that passes is a second that brings Riden closer to death. I need to get to the ship now.

I don’t halt my movements toward the ship, but I submerge my head and start singing. From below the water my voice is clear. Clear and sharp as a bell. It travels fast, reaching the ears of those on the Night Farer. The power of my song is limitless when I am in the ocean. The sea keeps nourishing me, feeding me so I never tire.

Reaching out toward the ship, I prepare the men for what is to come. They need to be ready for us. We cannot waste a second. I still can control only three men at a time, so I first reach out to Kearan, telling him to move the ship in our direction. Then I find Enwen and Draxen. I bring them to the ship’s edge and hold Riden up, so it will be him that Draxen sees first.

“Lower a rope!” Draxen commands immediately.

As his men hasten to obey, I let out one more verse. This time I reach even farther out.

I’m forced to swim to the right, dodging the large knotted rope that splashes me with water as it reaches its end. My body changes as soon as I’m hoisted out of the water, so quickly that no one can take notice. None can see my siren form unless they peer through the water, and I think it’s safe to say that they were too far away to notice. But that is hardly a concern for me at the moment.

Draxen's men haul us up quickly. There must be at least five of them tugging on the rope. I have to grip the edge of the railing once I get to the top—it’s difficult while holding on to Riden’s weight as well. Otherwise they would have hauled me all the way over, and I probably would have broken a finger or my wrist as it jammed into the railing.

Draxen grabs Riden and lays him down on the ship’s deck. I’m about to step forward to help when I’m seized by what feels like twenty men.

“Go grab Holdin!” he orders. Someone runs belowdecks.

“The ship’s doctor can’t help him,” I snap.

I’m momentarily distracted by the filthy fingers at my body. They probe and push, straying to places they shouldn’t. Places hardly necessary for restraining me. My muscles hurt from the strain. My pride hurts from the whole scene.

“What did you do to him?” Draxen demands.

That’s it. I don’t care if the whole crew witnesses this. They’re about to die anyway. I slam my abilities into Draxen, ordering him to make his men let me go.

His crew hears me singing; they’re perplexed enough by that. But once Draxen orders them to let me go, they’re dumbfounded.

He has to repeat himself, more loudly this time, before they listen. They must decide I’m not behind the change if they still obeyed Draxen’s order. Good.

I rush to Riden, sit on the cold deck, and place a hand on either side of his head. I lower my head as though going in for a kiss. I need to force air back into his lungs. Plugging his nose with the fingers of my right hand, I blow into his mouth, willing the air to reach down into his lungs.

I wait a moment and then try again. Five times I do this, and nothing changes.

“No,” I say, barely a whisper. I lie on top of his body, placing my head against his chest, a silent plea for it to start moving up and down, for his lungs to work, for his body to keep the life within.

This can’t be happening. Not after he rescued me. Not after he let himself get shot to help me. He can’t die now.

But there is water in his lungs. I can sense it beneath my cheek. And if I could just get it out …

I place my hands against his chest to make it look as though I’m using them to force the water from his lungs, but I know at this point they’re useless.

I sing, so softly that only Riden can hear, were he awake. I tell his mind to stay alert. I beg the organs to remain steady. I cannot heal his wounds. I cannot speed up or change anything. I can only reach his mind. I tell him not to give up. Not yet. He’s not allowed to die.