The scent of roasting venison turns my stomach into a beast.

It snarls as I lean against the bow, glaring past the emerald bay and at the Suntosans who wait upon it, searing meats and stirring stews that they dole out to a line of hungry residents. My stomach aches to be in that line, rather than trapped here on the deck of Keel Haul.

The shores of Suntosu have been barricaded for three days, now. No one can come ashore, and no one can leave due to a deadly disease spreading through the islands. Though only a few have been infected, it’s enough of a threat that the healers are being vigilant about not letting the disease spread into their island. Even if we wanted to leave, the bay has been blockaded by Suntosan ships, and sailors are stuck here until we can be examined and confirmed healthy.

Though the crew and I would likely be able to be expedited and go to shore earlier due to my status, it doesn’t feel right to pull the royal card, here. If my people must suffer, then it’s only right that I suffer alongside them and ensure their safety first. But that doesn’t mean my cabin fever isn’t settling in; I’m dying to get off this ship.

“How much longer will I be expected to starve?” Vataea yells at Suntosans, leaning dramatically over the bow. Her eyes flash a vicious gold when they ignore her, and she hisses under her breath.

Anxiously, Ferrick casts her a look from over his shoulder and goes rigid at the way she watches his people—like she’s a tensed coil, ready to spring. Like she’s a predator, and they’re her prey.

“I hope you’re not scheming over there, Vataea,” I warn, nerves searing my skin when her expression sours into something even more feral. “You cannot eat my people.”

Her sigh is exasperated. “Do give me some credit, Amora. I wouldn’t eat all of them. Let me take a man; I’ll be full after one, I promise. Two at the most.”

Behind us, Bastian snorts. “They’ll feed us tonight. It’s not like we’re starving.” He’s dressed in a loose white shirt with a collar that’s open to his neck, a fishing pole held tight in his hand.

“Their portions are too small,” Vataea argues, holding her stomach pathetically. “And they never use enough salt.”

“Then instead of sulking, go and catch us something.” At Bastian’s boots is a giant net he kicks over to Vataea. “Go and make yourself useful.”

I swear Vataea’s nails get sharper. “Watch yourself, pirate. I’m always useful.” But she scoops to pick up the net regardless, inspecting it. Her stomach must win out over her stubbornness because she clenches it tight and looks at us. “This is too big for me to use alone. Who’s coming with me?”

“You couldn’t pay me to go back down there.” Bastian answers quickly, and I’m almost embarrassed for the wave of relief that floods through me. Though I know Vataea and Bastian have no romantic feelings for each other, Vataea’s siren magic requires sharing her breath to bring a human into the water with her. This particular magic of hers comes with a kiss, and the two of them kissing is the last thing I want to watch.

Her kissing Ferrick, however . . .

I chance a look at him, watching as realization creeps onto his fair face in the form of a blush. He turns nearly the same red shade as his hair, surely thinking about the same thing.

“Ferrick and I will go,” I decide, smiling when Ferrick furrows his brows. “What? It’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“Except maybe not die,” he scoffs. “Given our track record, the moment we get in that water something bad is bound to happen.”

“Like what, Ferrick? Will the Lusca find us, again?” I give his shoulder a teasing shove. “We’re in the bay, it’s the middle of the day, and we’re surrounded by over a dozen other ships. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Anxiety wars in the creases of his forehead. “With this amount of ships, will there even be enough fish around here?”

“We’ll have to go farther out if we want a good catch,” Vataea answers, “but we’ll be fine. Now let’s get going, while we still have plenty of daylight.”

Grin gleaming wicked, Vataea moves to the stern before Ferrick has any more time to argue, peels out of her shirt, and jumps. She hits the sea with a smack, and the moment she does, gold ripples out from the waves. A moment after her rose gold fin slips below the surface, Vataea’s floating at the top of the water, ignoring the awed gasps of nearby sailors. Long, inky black hair floats around her, and she sighs contentedly into the sky.

“Be careful, Amora,” Bastian warns from somewhere behind me. “Ferrick’s not wrong about our track record.”

I pay him no mind, already tossing the rope ladder down after her and stripping out of my heaviest layers. I leave every weapon aside from my steel dagger on deck. Ferrick is right behind me as I jump in, though he hesitates at the end of the rope to check that it’s not too cold before letting himself drop in.

Vataea wastes no time before she’s in front of him, lifting her hands to his shoulders. She presses her body against his, and though I feel a twinge of guilt for watching, I can’t for the life of me make myself look away when Ferrick goes rigid, probably not even breathing. Gods, he’s stiff as a corpse. But Vataea doesn’t seem to mind as she cups her hands around Ferrick’s face and draws herself close, lips pressing against his. The tension in his body seizes for a sharp moment, but to my surprise, Ferrick settles. I catch the moment where his hands relax, settling briefly on Vataea’s waist as she breathes air into his lungs for a few moments longer than necessary, lending him a piece of her siren magic.

Glancing up, it’s clear that Bastian’s noticed, too. He bounces his brows, and I bite back my laugh as Ferrick and Vataea lower into the sea. She’s alone when she emerges again before me, so alarmingly close that I flinch back.

“You ready?” Her voice is dusky and rich as velvet.

I nod, and Vataea pulls me forward. It’s nothing like with Ferrick—the press of her lips on mine and the burst of air in my lungs is quick, and then we’re down in the water.

I’d nearly forgotten how marvelously clear the ocean is with the help of Vataea’s siren magic. How it feels as though my very body is now part of the sea, able to exist within its depths without needing breath—though only temporarily.

Bastian tosses the net down from Keel Haul, and Vataea’s quick to snatch it, bundling it into her arms. The look she casts Ferrick and I is clear as the sea before us—let’s go.

Suntosu’s bay is dazzling. Even stuffed full of ships, schools blue tangs fill the water and weave in and out of beautiful coral reefs that burst with bright colors, nearly camouflaging a yellow eel that stills within the reefs, waiting for prey to come its way. 

We swim past it, following Vataea’s lead as she maneuvers expertly between ships until they’re little more than shadows behind us. The emerald bay stretches into a clear expanse of sea, lit by bright sunlight that makes the surface look as though it were dusted with crystals. Though the sight is indescribable, my chest tightens as I see just how far above us that surface is.

As gorgeous as the sea may be, there’s something about it that’s fiercely unnerving. Vataea’s siren magic floods my body, and with it the sea feels as though it’s part of me; like its salt lives within my veins. I sense the fish who flock toward us, curious, and the ones who skitter away in fear. But beyond that, I sense creatures I can’t see. Ones who wait fathoms below in the deepest depths, and that I hope to never see.

But I must brush those feelings away; this isn’t like the last time we used Vataea’s magic. Unlike then, there’s no ticking timer. No curse to maneuver around. Here, I can surface whenever I need a breath. There’s nothing dangerous, no matter how terrifying and expansive the sea might feel.

Ahead of me, Vataea rolls onto her back to watch Ferrick and I struggling to keep up. Amused, she circles around us once before taking our hands and kicking her fins harder to hasten our speed.

It takes only minutes before the sea opens into an endless space filled with fish of all kinds, swimming and darting this way and that. No matter where I turn, there’s no sign of any ships, and when I dare to look up, there’s no longer any sign of the surface.

Fear settles in my throat, knotting it. But as if sensing it, Ferrick squeezes my hand as if to say, I’m right here. We’re going to be fine.

I nod, trying to commit that promise to memory. Vataea’s magic is only temporary, but there’s nothing stopping us from breaking to the surface and starting over. Nothing can happen to us.

Willing myself to relax, I watch Vataea as she swims forward, the most majestic creature I’ve ever seen. Though she’s beautiful on land, here in the depths she’s magnificent, and I’m not the only one who notices. Beside me, Ferrick is still, his green eyes not straying from Vataea for even a moment as she dives around the fish, chasing guppies and playing with the sea turtles that get too close, swimming circles around them.

He doesn’t look mystified, nor does he watch with the same awe I do. Rather, Ferrick wears a look of calm wonder. He looks like a man who, if told that he had to spend the rest of his life in exactly this moment, would die happy.

But eventually, Vataea returns to us, grinning as she points down to a small school of bass in the near distance. She extends the net for Ferrick and me while she takes the top, guiding us all into place. And though I expect that the plan is for us to wait there until our catch swims into our trap, there’s a confident spark in the mermaid’s eyes that I recognize to mean we’re about to get more than we bargained for.

The song that comes from Vataea’s lips is one of the most marvelous sounds I’ve ever heard. Her voice is the sweetest wine, warming me from the chest out. It’s honey and silk, so soft and sappy that I want nothing more than to sink into the sound and remain there forever. But there’s no chance to relax. No chance to follow the lull of her song that makes my head fuzzy. Our net is tightening, and with a start, I realize it’s because Vataea’s called the sea into our trap.

Hundreds of fish beckon to her call, floundering into the net. Ferrick and I are forced to brace ourselves while Vataea laughs and twists it around them, bundling the massive haul of fish that pull us forward. She leads them ahead, only ceasing her song when we’re closer to the bay, able to see the shadows of the ships once more. Only then do the fish stop heeding her call, swimming in a panic to try and escape the nets. Vataea takes the top of the net once more, guiding us toward the surface. We must nearly be to Keel Haul now, with a catch of far more fish than we can possibly eat. 

I look to Ferrick, laughing without the sound, and he mirrors my joy. But the smile he wears disappears almost instantly as his eyes flicker behind me, going wide. He makes a distorted sound of terror that bubbles into the sea, and my entire body freezes.

Something slick and cold brushes against my foot, and it takes everything in me not to scream as my body seizes up. I have to fight against every last one of my instincts to make a fist around my dagger and gather the courage to—slowly—look down.

A bull shark has followed us, likely brought in by Vataea’s song, but now tracking us for the fish we carry.

I can’t help myself. I drop the net and kick up and away from it in a moment of terror, but the jolt of movement spurs the shark’s attention. It twists toward me as I brandish my dagger. 

This may not be the Lusca, but bull sharks are known for being aggressive. And beneath the surface, I’m unprepared.

When the shark thrashes for me, I manage to skim my dagger across its blunt snout before Vataea rips me away from it. With a wave of her arm, the tides knock both Ferrick and I back several feet, distancing us from the shark. She opens her mouth for another song, and amidst my panic, I can’t focus against it this time. 

The song muddles my head, spinning the sea around me until all I see are blurred shapes and shadows. Greens and blues. I knock into the stern of a ship and lose my breath, forgetting where I am. Forgetting that I shouldn’t be breathing.

Vataea’s song grows louder. Fiercer. It turns into a chant, and the sea floods my lungs.

But I barely choke on it, because the moment it happens, the sea cleaves apart and spits me out. A wave throws me onto the deck of Keel Haul, where a very surprised Bastian jumps back with a yelp, nearly knocking his fishing pole into the water.

“What in the stars—” he cuts off with yet another jump as Ferrick follows behind me, sputtering on a surprised breath as he’s knocked out of the sea.

“I told you something always happens!” Ferrick snarls, ripping his fingers through his soaked hair as he stands. “Gods, why do I still go along with these ridiculous plans?”

Though breathless, I throw myself after him as he dives for the ledge, searching for Vataea. I still as, just a few feet out, the emerald tides grow murky and red.

Blood.

I clutch my dagger tight, about to throw myself back over when the sea thrashes again, churning so fiercely that others stuck in this bay scream, clueless as to what’s happening. It doesn’t help ease their fear any that the next thing the sea spits up is the shark itself, bloodied and thrashing as it hits Keel Haul’s deck, wrapped up tight in a net.

Vataea is behind us again before I can wrap my mind around her magic. Around the fact that she is controlling the very sea itself, wearing it as her shield while brandishing it as her weapon. Blood pours from her nose as she ceases her chanting, panting as she wipes it away with the back of her hand. 

“Bastian, build us a fire,” she commands, eyes gold and gleaming so brightly that she no longer looks even passably human. “Dinner is served.”

All the Stars and Teeth by Adalyn Grace

“Fierce and unrelenting…Do yourself a favor and get lost in this beautiful book!” — Tomi Adeyemi, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Children of Blood and Bone

Set in a kingdom where danger lurks beneath the sea, mermaids seek vengeance with song, and magic is a choice, Adalyn Grace’s All the Stars and Teeth is a thrilling fantasy for fans of Stephanie Garber’s Caraval and Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass series.

She will reign.

As princess of the island kingdom Visidia, Amora Montara has spent her entire life training to be High Animancer—the master of souls. The rest of the realm can choose their magic, but for Amora, it’s never been a choice. To secure her place as heir to the throne, she must prove her mastery of the monarchy’s dangerous soul magic.

When her demonstration goes awry, Amora is forced to flee. She strikes a deal with Bastian, a mysterious pirate: he’ll help her prove she’s fit to rule, if she’ll help him reclaim his stolen magic.

But sailing the kingdom holds more wonder—and more peril—than Amora anticipated. A destructive new magic is on the rise, and if Amora is to conquer it, she’ll need to face legendary monsters, cross paths with vengeful mermaids, and deal with a stow-away she never expected… or risk the fate of Visidia and lose the crown forever.

I am the right choice. The only choice. And I will protect my kingdom.