She pulled him to the surface.
He gasped for air, and in pain. His wounds were stinging sharply. She helped him swim to shallower waters.
He crawled to where he could lay with his head above water and she followed with easy flicks of her tail.
Breathing heavily, he glanced down at his chest.
And he looked again at the rapidly healing gashes.
"Syrena, where are we?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
She slid next to him. "Every fountain has a source, Philip," she replied cryptically, placing a hand on his. "And this is our secret place."
They rested on the edge of a perfectly circular pool. Vines hung loosely from trees. Through the foliage, ancient ruins could be spotted, echoing the architecture around the Fountain of Youth.
"You have placed much trust in me."
"And you in me. I could have easily devoured you."
Philip smiled. "But I thank God you didn't, that we are both alive."
Syrena gently squeezed his hand in reply. "We are different, you and I. We will be happy together