Tide - By Daniela Sacerdoti Page 0,104

– his father – unleashed the full force of his power on his own son, driving him through acute pain into near madness. Nicholas shuddered and screamed, a scream that chilled everyone’s blood, drawing their attention from the remaining Mermen.

“Nicholas!” Sarah was facing a hideous Merman whose hands were woven with seaweed, and whose face was encrusted with sea anemones. She too wondered where he had been all this time. She shook her head briefly – she had to concentrate, summon the Midnight gaze, and quickly – but her eyes couldn’t focus, not with Nicholas screaming like that. She had never heard anything like it.

Summoning all her remaining strength she finally looked at the Surari with all the force of her Midnight eyes, and incredibly the Merman faltered, scrambling blindly at her with its slippery hands. Sarah took hold of both its hands at once, and for a second it looked almost as if they were dancing – and then the Merman’s skin began to weep and blacken, until its arms dissolved with a splash, and its head, its body, its legs followed, gushing across the wooden floor in a black puddle.

Breathing heavily, Sarah surveyed the scene. Many Mermen were dead, but there were many others still standing, waiting for the humans to fall. Sean was badly wounded, Elodie looked utterly exhausted. Nicholas, to her horror, had begun to bang his head against the wall, and Niall … Niall was crying. Her eyes met his across the room and she raised herself to go to him. But Nicholas needed her first. She had to stop him injuring himself, splitting his head open against the wall. What had happened to him?

She was sure that the way across the room to reach him was clear – but almost immediately a Merman halted her in her tracks, punching the air out of her lungs, and throwing her to the floor. As she landed, she felt something breaking – the ribs she’d cracked only a few weeks before, probably. The pain was so intense she almost fainted. She braced herself for a kick or another vicious punch. But instead of the ghastly face of one of her attackers she saw the innocent little girl with long blonde hair. The girl she’d seen the night of her scrying spell. Everything fell silent.

“Mairead,” she mouthed.

“Remember,” said the little girl, and her voice resounded clear and composed in the sudden silence.

Not a second passed before Sarah found herself standing on the beach. She was a child again, eight years old, the wind blowing on her face, and someone holding her hand. She looked up. It was her grandmother, Morag Midnight. The scene twirled and danced around her, and suddenly the beach vanished and they were in her grandmother’s room. She was showing Sarah something. A book.

“A storm is coming, and it will hit before long. If you have no other choice left, and you have to read this book, death might not be far away.”

“Gran,” she murmured, troubled at what she had been told.

And then the scene dissolved.

She was back in the hellish mess of Midnight Hall and Mairead was in front of her again, caressing her face. Somebody was screaming. Nicholas was screaming. Sarah fixed her eyes on Mairead, silently pleading for help, and then the world ebbed away.

Nicholas had seen Sarah falling, and with impossible effort he’d steadied himself. He moved away from the wall, yelling in the ancient language, ordering the Mermen to take hold of Sarah, to lay her in a corner of the room where she would be unharmed, to guard her. She was his chosen bride, she must be saved.

The Mermen heard him, but they showed no sign of obeying his orders.

And then, the voice in his head.

You’re going to die, and so is Sarah. You sealed her fate with your choice.

“No! Sarah!” Nicholas clutched at his head again, fighting the fire that was consuming him.

Had you not betrayed me, she would have been spared.

“Sarah!” Nicholas’s brain was burning, scorching. He could no longer see anything but painful bursts of lightning piercing deep darkness. His forehead was bruised and bloody from where he’d banged it against the wall.

The effort to keep conscious was draining him. He must not give into it. He knew that soon he wouldn’t be able to stand, but still he called and pleaded in the ancient language, desperately hoping that the Mermen would listen, though by now he knew in his heart that all hope was gone.

It