We’re happy to bring you an excerpt from Beneath the Haunting Sea by Joanna Ruth Meyer which is being released on January 9th.
Sixteen-year-old Talia was born to a life of certainty and luxury, destined to become Empress of half the world. But when an ambitious rival seizes power, she and her mother are banished to a nowhere province on the far edge of the Northern Sea.
It is here, in the drafty halls of the Ruen-Dahr, that Talia discovers family secrets, a melancholy boy with a troubling vision of her future, and a relic that holds the power of an ancient Star. On these shores, the eerie melody of the sea is stronger than ever, revealing long-forgotten tales of the Goddess Rahn. The more dark truths that Talia unravels about the gods’ history—and her own—the more the waves call to her, and it may be her destiny to answer.
EXCERPT
The Captain examined her mother, feeling her pulse and checking the bandage on her wrist. “Nothing to worry about,” he told Talia gently. “It’s just a fever, and will pass soon enough.”
But Talia knew better. Her mother was stronger than the emperor and as obdurate as a mountain. A mere fever would never incapacitate her like this.
She crouched by the bunk, taking her mother’s good hand in her own and tenderly kissing her forehead. “Are you in pain, Mama?”
Tears leaked down her mother’s cheeks. “The sea goddess saw us,” she whispered. “She looked up from her Hall and saw us passing through her waters. So she sent a storm to break the ship, to snatch our souls down into her darkness. She’ll kill us. She’ll kill us!”
“Lie still, Mama,” said Talia soothingly. “It was just a dream. We’re safe now, the storm is over. Your wrist will heal, and we’ll be together in Ryn very soon.”
Her mother shuddered, eyes frantic. “She’ll try again. She won’t stop until she’s satisfied! I have to go up. I have to watch the sea. I have to protect you!”
She tried to get out of bed, but Talia pressed her gently back onto the pillow. “Later, Mama. We can watch later. Sleep now.”
And her mother sighed and shut her eyes. She fell into a fitful sleep, twisting in the bunk, sweat glistening on her forehead.
***
The day slipped slowly away, and her mother slid in and out of fretful dreams, writhing in the sheets, mumbling and crying in her sleep. Talia sat with her, holding her hand and wiping the sweat from her forehead. She pleaded with the gods she didn’t believe in: You took my father from me. You can’t have my mother, too.
Hanid came to see her in the midafternoon, carrying a battered tea tray. He set it on the floor under the porthole, and Talia’s mouth watered at the scent of roasted pork, even though she didn’t feel particularly hungry.
“How is she?”
Talia shook her head. “Sleeping, now. She keeps—she keeps talking about a sea goddess.”
Hanid grabbed a bottle from off the tea tray—more opium—and uncorked it.
Her mother rustled uneasily in the tiny bunk, and Hanid tipped a few drops of the drug into her mouth. She swallowed automatically, and lay quieter.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” said Talia, eyeing the bottle with distaste.
“She’ll do herself a harm, Miss Dahl-Saida. She needs to lay still.”
Talia sat back against the side of the ship, and took a plate of pork from the tray. She cut off a few bites and chewed, slowly. The meat was tasteless to her. “What’s wrong with my mother?”
Hanid crouched on the floor across from her. “I think the sea is making her ill.”
“She’s not seasick,” Talia objected.
“I didn’t say she was.”
Talia laid her plate down. “She keeps insisting the sea goddess is going to kill us, but in the stories . . . I thought it was Aigir who ruled the sea. Who is she talking about?”
“Rahn,” said Hanid, black eyes meeting hers. “She tricked Aigir and took his throne. She collects all the souls of the drowned in her Hall at the bottom of the ocean.”
Talia suppressed a shudder. “Lovely.”
“Most sailors fear her on long voyages like this one.”
“And you don’t?”
Hanid shrugged. “She’s just one goddess. I’m of the belief that the sea still protects Aigir’s own. And the wind gods can be persuaded to kindness.”
“Then you really do believe in the old stories.”
His lips lifted in a half-smile. “Are you telling me you don’t believe in anything at all, Miss Dahl-Saida?”
She winced. Suddenly she was eleven again, hearing her mother explain to her that her father had had an accident on the road. That he wasn’t coming home. “If you believe in the gods, you believe in fate. I refuse to accept the philosophy that any part of my life is outside of my control. People spin those stories to try and make sense out of their own existence—I do fine on my own.”
Hanid chuckled. “Says the girl banished from her homeland through no doing of her own.”
“You think the gods brought me here?”
“I think you are limiting yourself to a rather narrow view of the world.”
She ground her jaw. “Then you think the gods meant this for my mother?”
“I don’t know. But there is certainly more going on with her—with both of you—than either of us understands.”
Talia didn’t answer.
Hanid gave her a quiet smile. “Don’t despair, Miss Dahl-Saida. She will be well again, I think.”
And then he bowed and left the cabin.
Talia hugged her knees to her chest and screwed her eyes shut. You took my father from me. You can’t have my mother, too.
You can’t have her.
You can’t.
The waves slapped against the side of the ship, and for a moment she thought she heard a thread of music curling out of the sea.
Excerpted from BENEATH THE HAUNTING SEA © Copyright 2018 by Joanna Ruth Meyer. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.
About the Author:
Joanna Ruth Meyer is a writer of Young Adult fantasy. She lives with her dear husband and son in Arizona, where it never rains (or at least not often enough for her!). When she’s not writing, she can be found teaching piano lessons, drinking copious amounts of tea, reading thick books, and dreaming of winter.
