The golden eyes did not blink.
They remained open in the darkness beneath the sea like twin submerged suns watching from impossibly far below.
Mamta felt every muscle in both mermen tighten instantly.
Not panic.
Something colder.
Recognition.
The faster one moved first.
His arm locked around her waist again, pulling her sharply backward toward the shelter of a massive reef wall before she could react.
This time Mamta noticed something she hadn't before.
He wasn't just holding her.
He was positioning her.
Turning her body sideways against the current to reduce drag automatically while shielding her behind his own frame.
Efficient.
Practiced.
The darker-haired one swept ahead silently, one hand brushing briefly against the reef stone beside him.
A pulse of dim blue light traveled across the coral instantly before fading again.
Signal.
Mamta's pulse sharpened.
Communication system.
Of course the terrifying underwater civilization had military signaling built into the reefs.
Why wouldn't they?
The younger merman suddenly pressed a hand against the back of her head.
Firm.
Guiding.
Mamta instinctively followed the pressure downward just as something massive shifted through the water above them.
The current changed violently.
Not from movement.
From size.
Her stomach dropped immediately.
The thing overhead wasn't swimming fast.
It didn't need to.
The ocean moved around it instead.
Mamta caught only fragments through the darkness.
A pale underbelly larger than buildings.
Long drifting tendrils moving slowly through black water.
And eyes.
More eyes opening farther along its body.
Not two.
Many.
Her heartbeat stumbled hard.
The younger merman's grip tightened once around her waist instinctively.
Mamta felt it immediately.
Not fear.
Readiness.
Predators preparing for a predator larger than themselves.
And somehow THAT terrified her most.
Because until tonight, some part of her still believed dangerous things should eventually stop escalating.
Apparently the ocean disagreed.
The darker-haired one returned quickly from ahead, movements sharper now.
He signed something rapidly with two fingers against his wrist.
The younger one's expression changed instantly.
Annoyance.
Not panic.
Annoyance.
Which somehow implied this thing was not uncommon.
That was deeply upsetting information.
Mamta pointed upward carefully.
'What IS that??'
The younger merman looked at her.
Then upward.
Then back at her again.
His answer came very calmly.
"Something we avoid."
Mamta stared at him in disbelief.
That was not comforting.
At all.
The massive shape above them drifted farther through the black water.
Slow.
Ancient.
Completely unconcerned.
Like the sea itself simply made room when it passed.
Mamta became acutely aware of the younger merman's heartbeat against her shoulder.
Steady.
Too steady.
Either he was extraordinarily controlled or his species processed danger differently.
Possibly both.
The darker-haired one motioned sharply again.
Move.
Immediately they began descending deeper through narrow reef passages.
Fast.
Not fleeing chaotically.
Evading.
The younger merman guided Mamta effortlessly through the currents, one hand firm at her waist while the other cut through water with impossible precision.
Mamta noticed now that he kept adjusting her position before every sharp turn.
Tiny movements.
Palm against her ribs.
Fingers at the small of her back.
Tilting her body instinctively before pressure shifts hit.
And the deeply irritating part?
He was always correct.
The currents became smoother every time he repositioned her.
Which made it difficult to complain properly.
The darker-haired one suddenly froze ahead.
Both mermen stopped instantly.
Mamta almost drifted forward before the younger one's hand caught her waist again automatically.
Too quickly.
Like reflex.
The movement paused afterward.
Just slightly.
And for the first time since meeting him, the younger merman actually seemed aware of what he was doing.
Mamta noticed because his grip loosened a fraction afterward.
Not withdrawing completely.
Just enough to acknowledge choice.
Interesting.
Mamta slowly steadied herself against the current once it calmed.
The moment she no longer needed support, she pulled herself carefully from his hold.
Not dramatically.
Just practical.
I can stay upright now.
The younger merman blinked once.
And something unreadable crossed his face briefly.
Awareness.
Not embarrassment.
Recognition.
Like he had only just realized how often he'd been touching her during movement.
The darker-haired one watched the entire interaction silently.
Oh he noticed EVERYTHING.
Fantastic.
Mamta could practically see the calculations happening behind those silver eyes.
Political problem detected.
The younger merman cleared the moment first by looking ahead again.
"We keep moving."
Professional tone restored instantly.
Smooth recovery.
Annoyingly smooth.
Mamta followed beside them now instead of fully held, using the strange buoyancy from the Veylroot to move more naturally underwater.
Though naturally was generous.
She still felt like a confused brick compared to them.
The deeper currents glowed faintly blue around the reef paths ahead.
And then Mamta saw movement.
Not creatures.
Structures.
Her breath caught instinctively despite the Veylroot.
Far below the reef cliffs, lights spread through the darkness like fallen constellations beneath the ocean.
Architecture.
Massive spiraled towers built directly into underwater stone.
Bridges formed from glowing coral arches.
Currents redirected intentionally through enormous carved channels.
Her mind stalled completely for one dangerous second.
Cities.
There were actual cities down here.
The younger merman noticed immediately.
His mouth curved faintly.
"First time seeing Kyzzen territory?"
Mamta looked at him incredulously.
What exactly did he think.
That humans regularly vacationed beneath the ocean??
That almost-smile appeared again.
Subtle.
Dangerous.
The darker-haired one interrupted quietly:
"We are not alone."
Instantly both mermen sharpened again.
Mamta followed their gaze.
Shapes moved between the distant coral towers.
Fast.
Very fast.
Heading toward them.
Messengers.
No.
Not messengers.
The way both men straightened slightly told her immediately these newcomers mattered.
The younger merman muttered something under his breath in his own language.
The darker-haired one answered flatly.
Then both looked at Mamta at the exact same time.
And suddenly she understood something deeply unfortunate.
Whatever was approaching...
was coming because of her.