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“One more to go,” Fin yelled as he advanced to another position and heaved another rock.
Something snapped and then groaned.
“What was that?” I shouted.
Whatever it was, it whooshed through the air.
“Fuck.” Gill grabbed Fin and threw him to the ground an instant before a giant log would have hit them. Ropes suspending it from the trees creaked as the wood swung back the other way. Three more logs oscillated in the same fashion at different positions.
My fingers curled into claws. The collector was very clever at protecting her property. What else did she have in store inside her trove? My chest seized at the idea.
“Is that the last trap?” I called out to my mermen.
“I believe so,” Fin replied, watching the logs overhead. “But we should test it one more time to be safe.”
Once the logs had ceased swaying, he sent out another sonic blast. I didn’t detect any more traps when the waves hit me. But we couldn’t be too sure. Maybe the collector had some magical traps set up, too.
Gill bombarded the clearing with a few more pieces of debris. No more traps activated, to my great relief.
Fin snuck in to double-check, stomping the ground, scanning the clearing.
My whole body tensed, ready to run to him if necessary.
“All clear,” he said.
Thank Poseidon.
I led the horses back to the ring of trees and secured them.
There, Fin took my hand, leading me through the tree line as fast as our feet would carry us.
Even with Gill walking backward, scanning for any danger coming in the opposite direction, I kept glancing over my shoulder.
We reached the twisted tree, finding a door carved in its trunk. Gill stood guard, while Fin tried the lock, but it didn’t give.
“There’s no lock on it,” he said.
“How are we going to get inside?” I asked.
“Step back.” He motioned for me to move out of the way. Shoulder braced, he slammed into the door. The door rattled but wasn’t budging.
Shellfish.
The horses whinnied and stomped from where they were tethered across the clearing. They were still rattled, and rightly so. I was, too, and I didn’t know how else to calm them. But then when I heard a few birds screech and take flight from the trees, I knew something was wrong.
Then I heard it. The distant pound of horse hooves.
“Nemo!” I cried, spinning around, waiting for him to appear.
“Shh,” said Gill, cocking his head. “There are several horses.”
I listened; he was right. Had Nemo brought company?
A squadron of mersoldiers emerged from the forest ahead, led by Faraall.
The warmth of my blood was stolen away. How the hell had he survived? Better yet, how had he found me? Did the sea god hate me so much that he had led the commander right back to me?
The wound on Faraall’s chest glimmered green. Magic. Now more than ever, I was convinced he and the sea witch were working together to rid the merrealm of my father. How sad that Faraall was probably just a useless pawn in her game. Once my father was dead, the witch was not going to let Faraall live; I had no doubt she wanted the kingdom for herself.
