Elodie of the Sea

by Shari L. Tapscott

  “I believe that’s six,” Bran says. “But the decision is Elodie’s.”

  The crowd turns to me, and Bran meets my eyes. “You don’t have to agree. Traditionally, a woman has the choice to refuse the tournament.”

  I’ve watched the whole exchange, silent, but now I must speak. I turn to Aristos. “I want the trial.”

  The merman blanches, knowing precisely what I’m requesting even if the people of Triblue believe we’re still speaking of Elden’s traditional tournament. “You can’t be serious—”

  “I am.”

  Aristos will cheat at a tournament, use his magic to manipulate it. But the trial is time-honored, a sacred tradition to our people. And magic is merely a part of it so even Aristos won’t be able to break the rules.

  Narrowing his eyes, looking disgusted, the merman nods. “As you wish.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Bran

  Percival steps from the crowd. He’s been watching, ready to lend aid if needed. He addresses Aristos. “I am Percival of Lauramore, heir to my kingdom’s throne. I submit myself as a neutral entity, willing to prepare the details of the tournament.”

  The merman studies him with narrowed eyes, looking as if he’s humoring him though I don’t know why. “And what do you have in mind, Heir to Lauramore?”

  “We will make this a short tournament, only three events—one of your choice,” he says to Aristos and then turns to me, “one of your choice, and one of my choice.”

  “And what will your choice be?” the merman asks, sounding bored.

  “I suggest we sleep on it and gather here right before dawn,” Percival suggests.

  Aristos studies Percival for several long moments before he finally nods. “I will have my event prepared when you arrive.” And with that, he walks into the sea, motioning for his men to follow. They dive into the water, their clothing falling from them as they don their tails.

  It’s a sobering sight, and half the crowd cries out in shock and disbelief.

  Elodie sits atop her horse, her eyes on the black water, silent. Pippa comes to her side, stroking Firefly’s neck, and the two speak quietly. As soon as the mermen are gone, people’s eyes stray to Elodie. They watch her, distrustful. Some look positively murderous.

  I scan the gathering, looking for someone in particular. When I find Audette, I’m relieved to see her watchful knights standing just behind her.

  When she meets my eyes and realizes I would like to speak with her, she makes her way through the crowd, her men following behind her.

  “I must ask a favor,” I say once she and her legendary knights reach me.

  “We will protect the mermaid,” Rogert, the knight with chestnut hair, says as if reading my mind.

  I exhale slowly, relieved.

  Hallgrave’s eyes flick to Elodie. “We will guard her with our lives.”

  There’s no exaggeration in his tone, not like if Irving had said it. The depth of the promise startles me, but I am grateful.

  Audette smiles in a way that tells me she and her men are privy to a secret not known to most. “You could almost say it’s our duty.”

  Rogert grins, and the trio makes their way toward Elodie.

  ***

  “Choose joisting—see how the fish boys do on a horse,” Irving says, lounging on a bench in my private quarters.

  “Or archery,” Galinor suggests.

  Dristan shrugs. “Really, is there anything they can do besides swim?”

  The seven of us—me, Dristan, Galinor, Archer, Irving, Lionel, and Percival—debate the options. So far, Lionel has been quiet, watching. It’s disconcerting to have him inside our inner circle, but the man has changed. His time with the dragons was well spent.

  My elite knights—my most trusted men—are in the dungeon, along with Stuart, awaiting the sentence for their treason. Soon, I will have to weed through the rest of my knights and guard, see who is loyal to me and who is not—but not until after the tournament.

  I don’t like the idea of fighting over Elodie, but I saw no way around it, not when my men turned on me. But I won’t honor it, even if Aristos were to win. I will not hand Elodie to him, and I don’t believe he plans to either.

  Which means this is a fight to the death, and the tournament is just a friendly cover, a way to postpone the darkness he was threatening to bring down on my subjects’ heads.

  I know people doubt my loyalty to Triblue, but what kind of king hands over an innocent woman to a madman for the sake of peace? Not the kind of king I want to be.

  “Did anyone find it odd how Aristos and Elodie called the tournament ‘the trial?’” Irving asks.

  “It was odd,” Percival agrees. “And from the way he spoke, I believe he already had something in mind for his event.”

  “Which will favor his chances,” Irving says.

  “Naturally,” I answer.

  Percival paces, trying to settle on which event he should choose. “Joisting? Archery? Those hardly seem like neutral choices, which is what I must make.”

  “What will you pick for your event?” Archer asks me from his spot next to Galinor.

  I too mull the choices over, still undecided.

  “Hand to hand is your best event,” Dristan reminds me.

  “They very well might excel at that as well.”

  Irving grins. “We could have a good, old-fashioned fishing competition. Or long-distance harpoon throw.”

  I laugh despite myself. “I’m leaning toward archery. I’m a little better than tolerable. Archer is legendary, and Galinor’s good. Irving will slow us down, but we’ll have to make do.”

  The king rolls his eyes with a smile. We all know Irving’s almost to Archer’s skill level.

  “Archery’s a safe, traditional choice.” Percival nods to himself. “Therefore, I will choose hand-to-hand.”

  Lionel nods, pleased. What he lacks in the patience and finesse needed for archery he more than makes up for in brute strength. We all had bruises in our younger days to prove it.

  Irving turns to my brother, smirking even as he narrows his eyes. “What’s your best event? Dragon hunt?”

  Dristan rests against the back of his seat, loosely crossing his arms as he lets a grim smile play over his face. “Wooing gypsies.”

  Irving barks out a laugh, appreciating the scathing retort.

  “It’s late,” Percival says. “You all need to get some rest.”

  The men begin to stand, heading for the door. Before they’re gone, I clear my throat. Galinor, who’s in the lead, turns, blocking the exit.

  “Thank you for…” It must be said, even if it’s awkward. “Standing with me when I had no one left. I am grateful.”

  I expect Irving to make a joke, but even he nods, solemnly accepting my gratitude.

  “You have been a good friend to all of us,” Galinor says. “I am honored to fight with you.”

  “As am I,” Archer agrees.

  Irving, finally unable to help himself, comes to my side and slings his arm around my shoulders in a chummy way. “There’s no one I’d rather stand by.” He pretends to wipe a tear from his cheek. “Now should we all braid each other’s hair and giggle stories till the wee hours of the morning or get some sleep so we can fillet some fish tomorrow?”

  ***

  I wake to my chamber door being tossed open with a crack. I sit up, groggy and irritated at the interruption. After tossing and turning most of the night, I finally found sleep not long ago.

  “Bran, you need to see this,” Dristan says, throwing clothes at me.

  “What time is it?” I demand.

  “Nearing sunrise.”

  There’s a strange edge to his voice, so I rise and tug on my pants.

  Satisfied with my sloppy state of half-dress, Dristan walks from the room at a swift pace, motioning for me to follow him. Groaning and rolling my shoulders, trying to wake myself, I trail after him.

  He steps out onto a balcony, letting in brisk morning air. The
sky grows lighter with the impending dawn.

  I blink several times as I stare at the sea. Between the piers, where the shore should lie in a meandering line of coast, there is a vast labyrinth rising from the ocean floor, a massive thing made of walls of water, cutting far into the sea. It’s a creation of swirls and circles—easily the most magnificent and terrifying thing I’ve seen in my life. “What in Elden…”

  “I believe it’s the scene of Aristos’s event.” Dristan turns to me, frowning. “Perhaps the only event. The trial.”

  The castle is already coming to life, and the general hum of chatter tells me we aren’t the only ones to spot the merman’s creation.

  “Come on,” Dristan says. “Finish dressing. We need to get to the shore.”

  Thirty minutes later, we dismount where the dazzled crowd has gathered. Several knights accompany me—nameless faces who have abruptly scaled the ranks after my elite turned mutinous, but they hang back, staring at the ten-foot wall of sea water. It swirls and writhes inside its rigid boundaries, constantly in motion.

  The strange architecture is beautiful—too lovely to have been made with dark magic. It can only mean he’s bound another mermaid, another girl of his own race.

  This must end.

  Percival is already here, his eyes on the maze. Aristos and his men stand near the entrance, taking pleasure in our reactions. They don’t approach us, not yet. The sun hasn’t even crested the horizon.

  There are no towering wooden risers for our tournament. We had no time to construct seating whatsoever, but we already have a large audience. Eager gypsies have driven their carts over and thrown the doors open, offering souvenirs and refreshments to the people gathering. The smell of their spiced pocket pies and hot cider wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of the sea. I spot Deacan in the crowd, and he gives me a nod, wishing me luck.

  And luck is something I will undoubtedly need to face men with this sort of magic at their disposal. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. I didn’t have time to eat breakfast, but that’s for the best. The acid already churns in my empty stomach, making me edgy.

  Irving, Archer, and Galinor arrive together, and Lionel shows up several minutes later. Before the former prince makes his way to us, he speaks with a woman in the crowd. She’s tall, with a long braid of brunette hair and watchful eyes. He clasps her hand, looking as if he’s reassuring her, and makes his way to us.

  If it were any other time, if he were any other man, I would ask him about her. But Lionel is a mystery, a man back from the dead, and I am still uneasy with him, even if he has come to my aid.

  Irving whistles at the wall of water once he joins me. “Something tells me we should have been slightly more creative with our events. Perhaps the Fish King was hoping for a sea theme?”

  “It’s not a festival.”

  “No? You don’t want to adorn your hair with pearls and seashells before we begin?”

  “Says the man who’s woken up dressed in flowers,” Galinor says, stepping next to us.

  That’s enough to startle me from my brooding, if only just. I grin at the two men. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  Irving eyes Galinor. “I’d rather hoped everyone had forgotten about that.”

  Lionel walks up, studying Irving with distaste. “Just how drunk were you?”

  “Another time.” Irving waves Lionel’s words away as his wife and her two knights arrive with Elodie.

  My eye’s lock with Elodie’s, and I hurry her way to help her from her horse. I can feel Aristos’s glare at my back. She looks tired, and that worries me. I spoke with her briefly after last night’s meeting, but it was late, and we didn’t have much time.

  “How are you?” I ask as I pull her from her horse. She feels good in my arms. Right.

  I will not lose her.

  “I’m fine.” Her eyes dart to the merman standing in front of the water maze, and she looks troubled. “It takes a lot of magic to create a labyrinth this large.”

  “Why not create this with dark magic?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “There is art to this—beauty, architecture, design. It can’t be accomplished with dark magic, which is like a parasite—always taking, never giving in return. It can decimate armies, but it can’t build them once they have fallen.”

  “So, it has limits?” I ask.

  She turns her worried eyes on me. “Everything has limits.”

  The way she says it makes me study her—her pale skin, the dark smudges under her eyes, even the listless way she moves. “Your magic?”

  We’re on display, in front of all these people, yet she touches my cheek, giving me all her attention. “There’s not much left. I’ve doused myself with salt. I even swam in the sea this morning, though I didn’t dare shift. It’s slipping away from me, and there’s nothing I can do. Aristos simply took too much, too quickly. It’s like trying to hold water in a sieve.”

  My chest constricts, and my pulse quickens. I want to deny what she’s saying—tell her she’ll feel better when all this passes. She’ll be all right.

  She’s going to be my queen.

  “You don’t have to compete today,” she says, searching my eyes. “Let Aristos take me back to my island, back to my people. He can’t link me again—there’s not enough left.”

  “Never,” I swear. “If you wish to return to your island, I will sail you there myself, but I will never hand you over to Aristos.”

  And then, because there is nothing left to say, I kiss her hand and turn toward the entrance of the great maze, where my chosen men stand with Percival and Aristos.

  “Wait,” Elodie says, clasping my arm and pulling me back. “The labyrinth is treacherous. Please, be careful.”

  “Always.” I want to kiss her, take the worry from her eyes. Instead, I pause. “What can you tell me about it?”

  It’s obvious Elodie expected to find the maze cut into our shore this morning. She’s only surprised by how large it is.

  “It’s a game of sorts, a yearly tradition on our island. Your task is simple—you must navigate the labyrinth and the perils that await you, collect the prize, and exit before sundown. Aristos will be inside, placing obstacles in your path. His only goal is to hinder your progress. Should the sun set before you’ve collected the prize and stepped out of the maze, Aristos wins.”

  “Sounds straightforward enough.”

  “It would be unwise to take it lightly. As I said, be careful.”

  I nod, already growing more confident now that I know what awaits me.

  “One more thing,” she says before she lets me go. She digs into a small coin pouch at her side and produces a simple silver band.

  “I accept your offer,” she says quietly, her voice shaking. Only now do I realize she wears my ring, the ring I gave her last night before our world turned upside down. “I will marry you, Bran.” She lowers her eyes. “Even if we have very little time left.”

  Her answer feeds the flames in my core, making me eager for the labyrinth and whatever lies inside it. Elodie’s mine.

  I tilt her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “I swear when this is over, I will find a way to save you.”

  “Right now, focus on saving yourself.” She holds the simple ring higher, the mate to hers, offering it to me. “Accept this as a token of my promise…and know how much I love you.”

  I slide it on my finger and force a smile. “You say that like you’re worried I won’t return. I’m humbled by your confidence in my skills.”

  “Come back to me.”

  “I’ll see you before sundown,” I promise, and then I join my group.

  I rub my thumb on the ring as Aristos explains the rules of his challenge, and they’re exactly as Elodie described. The metal band feels different on my finger, foreign. Right. Even though I must focus on the task in front of me, my mind is on the future. I will rule Triblue with Elodie by my side.

  I think of my parents, and my heart clenches. Will they ever meet
her, this woman who I’ve chosen to be my queen? We’ve still had no word on their whereabouts, but I hope that’s because they made it to their destination unscathed.

  “And what is the prize?” Percival asks Aristos.

  The merman turns to look at me. “Why, Elodie, of course.”

  I begin to argue, but Percival cuts me off, “That is unacceptable. You can’t send her into your maze to wait for hours.”

  “It’s all right, Your Highness,” Elodie calls to Percival, already walking toward the entrance. “I know the game and my part in it.”

  I turn to her. “You are not—”

  “I am.” She calmly meets my eyes, telling me she’s not worried and I shouldn’t be either.

  “What if it’s a trick, what if he means to steal you while you wait?” I demand.

  Aristos rolls his eyes. “If Ellie feels threatened, she will simply shift and swim through a wall. She’s far faster than I am, and she knows it.”

  But Elodie already told me she’s too weak to shift, admitted that she didn’t dare attempt it. She pins me with her eyes, silently telling me something important. She doesn’t want Aristos to know how little magic she has left.

  I turn to the merman. “You swear no harm will come to her?”

  “I swear.” He then turns to Elodie. “Go on then.”

  She nods, heading into the maze as if she’s doing nothing more than taking a leisurely stroll through the courtyard garden. I watch her, wanting to call to her, tell her to come back. But she’s gone.

  As soon as the mermaid disappears, the great bell rings from atop Castle Calland’s tallest tower.

  “You may enter at the toll of the next hour,” Aristos informs me, and then he motions for his men to follow him into the maze as well.

  Once they’re gone, I turn to Percival. “And our weapons? Are they allowed?”

  Percival shrugs and gives me a sly smile. “He never said you couldn’t take them.”

  We pace the beach, waiting for the bell to toll. It’s the longest hour of my life.

  Finally, the chimes ring throughout Saltwreath, seven in total. The sun has risen, and it’s time.

  My companions look at me, waiting for me to give directions, to take the lead. Dristan shifts. Though he won’t admit it, his leg is bothering him, as it sometimes does. He hurt it years ago, during Pippa’s tournament. He spars with the knights, sails like a master. It’s easy to forget. But he can’t run, and we very well might find ourselves running in that wretched labyrinth.