Free World of Aluvia 2 by Amy Bearce Page A

it. They were squishy against her fingertips. The cold seaweed unfurled, leaving a single glowing pearl in the middle of her hand, the size of a berry, hanging from a thin silver chain. Soft white light swirled inside the sphere. This was no ordinary pearl.
    This had to be a merfolk tear. She’d heard stories about them. Who hadn’t? Stories by the fire, stories for little children, but her mer-friends said simply that merfolk generally had no need for tears, or even the ability to shed them except in cases of extreme grief. Tears from merfolk were so rare that it was said they coalesced into glowing pearls that, when given freely, granted the owner one wish.
    Her friends had never confirmed that part, laughing when she’d asked. But maybe the myth was true? A normal pearl wouldn’t glow like that. Phoebe threw away the seaweed and gripped the pearl in her hand, the slightly gritty surface reassuringly solid in her hand. The chain dangled between her fingers. Nothing would crush this pearl. It felt like iron.
    Her pulse raced like a merfolk’s tail. What could have made one of the merfolk cry? Had Tristan’s tears formed this pearl? She blanched at the thought of him crying over anything.
    But what to do with it?
    She took a deep breath, taking strength from the rich scents of the beach. She tried to relax, so the answer could come to her. She let her ears fill with the soft rumble of the waves rolling in farther down the shore. Here, the surf was almost always gentle and quiet. She let the quietness spread through her. She reached for the unexpected peace that had risen inside when she thought she would die beneath the waters. There was a blue light then. Maybe Nell’s prophecy had something to do with that.
    Phoebe stood up, took off her boots, and crossed over to the shallow end of the shore. She didn’t feel bold enough to slide into the dark waters by the pool. The water in the shallows was so clear she could see the bottom along here in the moonlight. It was probably safe. The chilly water lapped at her ankles. She shivered and waded forward a few more steps until the water reached her hips. Had the sun been up, this would have been refreshing. Now, her feet ached from the chill. The sharp edges of crushed shells pressed against her skin. She walked until the water touched her chattering chin.
    She examined the pearl. It glowed brighter, or perhaps that was just her imagination.
Concentrate, Phoebe
! Things must be dire for Tristan to have actually cried.
    She kept her palm open, staring at the pearl. “Please,” she said, not knowing to whom she spoke and feeling foolish for it. “I need to help them. But no one’s coming. I need to reach them. Just let me breathe.”
    She put on the necklace. Slowly, so slowly, she sank below the water. Her swimming shirt stuck tightly around her, but she was used to the sensation. She kept her eyes open despite the burn. The pearl flared even brighter under the water. She understood then. It would have to be a matter of trust.
    She opened her mouth, letting the cold water fill it.
    I can do this,
she thought.
    Please.
    She took a deep breath of sea water.



splitting pain knifed through Phoebe’s body. Icy cold spread along her skin, racing from her toes to the back of her neck. She tried to scream but could only gurgle as her throat felt like it burst into flames under the water.
    Her breath came faster. She was thankful she was actually breathing, not drowning, no matter how it felt at the moment. The pearl was working. She could breathe and see underwater. Her hands flew to her neck, but her skin was as smooth as ever. No gills, unlike the merfolk. Her stomach did a slow roll. Breathing underwater magically with her friends was one thing. Being deep underwater alone, depending on an inanimate object she didn’t understand, was another.
    She looked down at the necklace resting on her chest. Clearly, the magic was coming from it. But she’d better move fast, just in