she’d faced off with Ospodine.
She smiled at him, hatching an idea. The two men planned to walk in the opposite direction to where the merman waited. They’d be more focused on the castle in the distance and watching for any sign of Ospodine’s reappearance. “I thank you for the generous offers. I gladly accept the offer of the second, but would you mind if I stayed?” She held up her flute. “I like to come here in the evenings and play. It was my and Talmai’s favorite place.”
Their expressions softened, and both men nodded. Astran gestured to the bluff. “We’ll come back for you when we’re done, or if you find we’re taking too long, meet us halfway.”
She waved to them as they set off toward the bluff, following the fading hoofprints Ospodine’s horse left in the sand. Once they’d gone a short distance, she sped back to the spot where she’d seen the merman. “Please still be there,” she murmured to herself. The urge to move faster prickled across her lower back, but she kept her pace to a brisk walk instead of a sprint in case the elders turned to watch her.
Her visitor still floated in the waves, sleek tail and muscular arms flexing in the water to stay afloat. A delighted smile spread across his shadowed face, and Brida caught a glimpse of teeth shaped much like hers in the fading light. He whistled to her, an unfamiliar tune, and motioned toward the ledge Ospodine had claimed earlier.
She paced him on the shore as he swam to their meeting spot. He was much quicker than she and lolled in the shallow surf to wait, protected by the silhouette of the ledge where it jutted beyond the sand and into the water.
Brida climbed the natural ladder carved out by the sea to the flat expanse of stone and perched on the edge, tucking her legs under her. The merman swam closer, the shine of his eyes not so bright with the moon behind him. Brida set the flute to her lips and played the note he’d whistled earlier. His name. This flute lacked the other’s accuracy in mimicking mer speech, but the merman didn’t seem to mind..
He nodded, his smile widening even more. He tapped the water with the flat of his hand. “Brida who sings,” he said in a voice soft and deep, the words a little hesitant as if his tongue still sought to work around their unfamiliarity.
She almost dropped the flute. “You speak!” She shook her head. Of course he spoke, although the whistle language was not one she understood. “You speak my language.”
“Some,” he said. “Your words are hard. This…” he whistled and followed it with a series of clicks in the back of his throat. “Is easier for us.”
Delighted, Brida scooted closer to the edge. He, in turn, swam a little more into the shallows, bracing his elbows in the sand so that he could stretch toward her. His body curved in a faint arc, his fluke lifting high to help him balance. Moonlight plated the dual tones of his skin, highlighting the darker gray of his back and the short dorsal fin that ran the length of his spine. His face, chest, belly and underside of his tail gleamed white in the water. The wounds and lacerations he’d suffered had healed or were healing, silvery flesh knitting itself together into jagged scars.
Brida patted her own hip and pointed to the spot on his tail where he’d been most grievously injured. “That looks good. No blood. No pain?” She chose her words carefully and spoke slowly, trying not to overwhelm him with rapid-fire speech. If he suddenly started whistling and chirping at her in an unending succession of sound, she’d be completely lost.
He nodded. “You saved me. Saved…” Again, a whistle, only different, higher, and she recognized the name he’d given the merchild.
It was her turn to grin. She had prayed both man and child would survive, even when her doubts about his chances made the praying seem futile at times. “I’m happy,” she said. “Your daughter?” she asked.
He frowned, then shook his head. “Daughter?” He parsed out the word’s two syllables carefully, as if saying them aloud might help him better comprehend its meaning.
Flummoxed by how to explain the meaning, Brida decided to put it aside. If she was fortunate enough to see the merman again, she’d figure out a way to translate words for him and have him do the same