“Your first child.”
Aramus took a step back, his hand instinctively moving to the saber at his belt.
“I see this is not to your liking,” the voice noted.
“My father told me the sacrifice would be mine to make. That would be mine. But it would also be my wife’s. You may require of me. You do not require of her.”
A disturbing chuckle before, “And I see your father was thorough.”
“Yes, he was. You are our secret. You are our protector. As such, you have my respect. And with that respect, I must share I do not have time to play games.”
“Not I,” the voice replied. “I have all the time in the world.”
“I can imagine that would be a boon,” Aramus muttered.
“No, my son, it is a curse. It is the worst curse of all. That and loneliness. Think of that, an eternal lifetime of loneliness.”
“The kings would visit, if they did not have to sacrifice.”
“The gods would frown, if they did not get their due.”
“Are you a god?”
“I was.”
Aramus felt his neck begin to itch.
His father told him of the riddles, the games. That you did not seek the seer without a vast store of patience. That you needed to guard against getting caught up in the enigmas, or you could be lost to that abyss forever.
And you did not seek the seer unless you were willing to pay the price.
He drew on his store of patience and asked, “Do you still have power?”
“If I did, would I be in this pit?”
“The Beast rises,” Aramus told him.
“No, he has risen. He has visited the surface, but returned to his lair. Though he will come to stay. And soon.”
At that, Aramus felt his chest seize.
“The dragons will be an interesting addition to that battle,” the voice mumbled.
Indeed, even in this pit, the seer knew all.
“Do we prevail?” Aramus demanded.
“Is this what you wish to know, Sea King?”
“Yes, but most of all, I wish to know my wife will be safe.”
“The mermaid queen.”
Aramus stood stock still.
When he did, a sinister cackle rent the air before, “Oo, that surprise. So delicious, that one was free.”
“Mermaid queen?”
“Ah, lovers,” the voice said like a shake of the head. “So foolish. Ages pass, and they remain fools.”
“My wife is a mermaid?”
“Secrets, secrets.”
“Tell me, is my wife a mermaid?”
“You know, of all I have witnessed on this earth, the cruelties vastly outweighing the kindnesses, that is something I never did understand. How things so extraordinary could be treated so abominably. And it is everywhere. Do you know, on the parallel world, they kill baby seals simply so women can wear their fur?”
“Sir—”
“And they contain creatures in cages so that humans can gawk at them?”
“It would mean much to me—”
“Magnificent beasts who by rights have the breadth of the seas to call their own, they imprison in small pools and force them to perform as entertainment?”
Aramus shut his mouth.
“We do that too,” the voice whispered. “We did that to the Mer.”
“I know,” Aramus whispered back.
“Cut them in half, hallowed out their fins, so they could be worn by humans of means on parade.”
He didn’t know that.
And knowing it, Aramus’s stomach turned.
“Mermales slaughtered by the hundreds so mermaids could be captured, forced to reside in tanks and perform such acts on human males.” The voice dipped. “Such debauched acts.”
Aramus clenched his teeth.
“Triton and Medusa created them together. An act of love, was the Mer. A gift to this earth, their beauty, their brand of magic. And that was how they were treated.”
Aramus had no words for there were none.
“This is why she hides.”
Aramus closed his eyes and dropped his head.
She was a mermaid.
His wife was a mermaid and she had not told him.
“You are not being overprotective. You are the Sea King. You are sensing her specialness. And you are moving to shield it.”
Aramus opened his eyes and looked into the dark.
“In sharing that, will you take something from me?” he asked.
“I am glad we are here for I prefer that to be a surprise.”
Aramus had a feeling he would not like that kind of surprise, but for the sake of time, he didn’t fall into discussing it.
“Will she be safe?”
“You do not wish to sacrifice what that answer would buy me.”
“Will you keep our realm safe?”
“I have enjoyed our visit, Sea King. Do not end it by offending me.”
“Your power has not been called on for centuries and you allude to being stuck in this place, unable to leave,” Aramus pointed out.
“I will admit, in these troubled times, I do have concerns my power is a bit rusty.”
And Aramus used more patience.
“The Beast—”
“Ignore the lore. It is faulty, magnified over the years in the mouths of tellers that are liars. His power is not manifest, it is insidious. But it is perilous. In other words, he is not what you think. Even those who think they can control him do not know all he is and all he’s capable of. And he has allies. Ones you would not ever expect.”
“What is he?”
“You have much to contend with before you concern yourself with him.”
Aramus was quickly coming to the end of his supply of patience.
“You are not telling me anything I do not already know.”
“And this, Sea King, your father could not know for he never deigned to attend me. You come with nothing and you leave with what I want to give you, no more.”
“I would protect my queen and I would protect my people.”
“Do you know the most destructive force on earth?”
“Tell me.”
There was a pause.
And then, “Water.”
Aramus made no response.
“Fire, wind, nothing decays, nothing rots, nothing sweeps away all in its path, like water. A fire can burn the trees covering a range of mountains, but not touch the stone. However, over time, the rains will beat even stone back into the earth.”
Aramus brought matters in hand.
“I come here worried for my wife and my realm and those of all of Triton and I leave here with more reason to worry.”
And reason to be infuriated with his queen that she had kept something so vital from him for absolutely no reason.
“And is this not something crucial I give to you, Sea King?”
It was vastly irritating, but he was not wrong about that.
“The payment too dear, I will not come again,” he warned. “And you have given me nothing to earn due.”
“I have given you everything you need to know.”
Aramus did not see it that way.
Until he thought…
Water.
“She commands the seas,” he whispered.
“She could sweep Sky Bay into the ocean on a whim,” the voice replied. “You add to her the air, the fire, the earth…” the voice trailed away.
The air, Elena.
The fire, that had to be Silence.
The earth, undoubtedly Farah.
His heart grew light.
“We prevail,” he stated.
“Evil has its own brand of magic and not one of you has faced true evil.”
Aramus’s heart no longer felt light.
“In all your might, all your magic, there is only one weapon you can call on, Sea King. You think you know it. You think you have it in hand. You think you can harness it. And that, my Head, if you fall into that trap, w
ill be your downfall.”
Aramus remembered what Frey had told him.
“Love,” he said.
The voice did not reply.
“It is not us, the men, the warriors who defeat the Beast. It is the women who have the power. Our job is to protect them,” Aramus surmised.
“Climb,” the voice ordered.
“The couples are all falling in love,” he shared, again feeling not mild relief.
“Ah, the arrogance of a monarch.”
“What does that mean?”
“You are right. Love. Now leave me and climb.”
“What does ‘the arrogance of a monarch’ mean?”
“That you think it is only you, and the others, and the alliances you make, and the emotion you feel for each other, who might defeat the Beast. There will be sacrifice, Sea King. But it will not be to me,” he declared, and Aramus felt his stomach drop. “Now leave me and climb.”
Without him moving his own body, Aramus found himself standing outside the orbs with the roar of the surf pounding in his ears.
It was only then that Aramus remembered the last of what his father told him of this place.
When he was ordered to climb…he climbed.
He turned, and eyes to feet, making certain each step was sure on the slick rock beneath him, he moved as swiftly as he could.
And as the magical light that guided his way started to dim, he did not hasten his steps. He put his left hand to the wall, trailing the stone, some of it coarse and jagged, biting his flesh, and he put one foot in front of the other.
And then again.
And again.
He did not panic as the light kept fading. Panic and haste were killers.
His father had told him, he needed his head about him when he approached the abyss, when he descended into it, when he spoke to the seer and when he left the abyss.
Like every king should be at all times in all things.
When a new light started illuminating the path, he allowed himself a moment to look up.
And saw the moon.
They had left after luncheon. His journey down the chasm was long, but it was not miles.
There should be no moon, not yet.
Time had warped while he was down there.
Even knowing this and how concerned his men surely were, he did not rush to the top.
He called out, “Ahoy!” but took his time, and when he saw his men standing at the edges, gazing down, relief swept through him like a tidal wave.
“Sirens-damn it!” Xi clipped. “You’ve been away hours!”
Oh hell.
Aramus cleared the top, thrilled to be on solid land, and Nav noted, “You’re soaked to the bloody skin. What happened down there?”
At the same time Bondi asked, “Did you get what you were looking for?”
He did not.
But he got something.
He nodded to Bond, moving to his steed, and said, “Let us be away. My wife will worry.”
He was not certain all she had to worry about, though in that moment, the thought of her worry (for she would be as she did not even know he was away from the castle) was outweighing his.
And as he rode across the black rock of his realm, he knew a part of him understood why she would hide.
It was simply that the other part of him, her husband, the man who loved her, did not.
He was buoyed when he saw Keel Castle in the distance, it’s gray stone, ocean-blue tiled turrets, the swirls of colonnades cutting through the grounds leading to it.
He and his men rode around, heading direct for the magnificent gate which was fashioned of chalk-colored stone, much different than the rest of the castle.
It was a colossal five-story-high statue of a woman, her eyes black holes, the expression on her face impassive, her hair that hung all the way down to the ground carved long and thick with curls and waves, threaded with seaweed, kelp and coral.
Great fins swept out where her shoulders should be. Out and down, through her hair, pointing at each side to the gate that would be at her womb.
And at her chest was a pendant in which was a trident, the weapon of Triton, the sea god, her husband.
It was a statue of their goddess, Medusa.
Upon seeing them, the guards at the gate opened the doors and Aramus and his men rode right through.
After they rode up the lane, through the portcullis and the arched opening under the guardhouse beyond, into the cobbled courtyard, men who were no longer bound to service (for he himself had freed his own) moved forward to take the reins of the horses.
Aramus dismounted but he saw his queen racing out of the trefoil arched doors to the castle proper, her skirts drifting out behind her in her haste.
“Aramus! Where have you been?” she demanded as she ran down the steps. “You’ve been gone ages, and no one knew where you went. I’ve been worried sick.”
He moved to her and stopped when they met, taking in her face, which was a mixture of anger and concern.
Her beauty was unparalleled, this was the sole reason why she was his wife.
But somehow, over the centuries, this had led to the kings of his realm to discovering sunken treasure for that beauty was small compared to the beauty within.
And she was mermaid.
“Well?” she spat. “I put two very anxious girls to bed—”
“You should have told me.”
She clamped her mouth shut, her eyes rounding before they filled with fear.
She knew he knew.
His men filed around him, making their way into the castle silently, eyes averted from the couple, as the servants led their horses away.
He should not do this on the castle steps. It was the last place he should do it.
It simply did not seem like he could stop himself.
“What gave you any impression that you could not tell me?” he asked.
“Tell you what?” she queried in return, and he was not angry, he was also not not angry.
But at her question, he was beginning to feel angry.
“Do not,” he whispered.
“We should go inside,” she whispered back.
“I am very aware, most especially considering a conversation we had but hours ago, that you are aware of my intense desire to protect you.”
“You did not know all I was.”
He said nothing.
“Now you know, don’t you?” she asked.
He said nothing, but he nodded.
“How do you know?” she inquired hesitantly.
“That is not for you to know,” he returned.
“Aramus—” she began.
“I love you,” he stated.
She gazed up at him, eyes again wide.
“Do you not understand what that means?” he demanded.
“I—”
“You could fall in a vat of boiling oil, your skin melted off, and if you survived, I would love you. You could fail to give me children, and I am an only child, my father was as well, the current heir to the throne a distant cousin. A young boy I do not know the man he will become, but I would leave my realm to him and have only you for my life, and I would love you.”
“My husband,” she whispered.
“And you are as you are, and I love you.”
In the firelight of the torches that lit the courtyard and doors of the castle, Aramus saw the bright of tears hit her eyes.
“And I have told you that, I have shown you that, and you did not trust me with this part of you?” he asked.
“I wanted to, but the longer I delayed, the harder it was to tell you for this very reason,” she shared. “I did not know how to explain why I didn’t, and I knew the longer I didn’t, the more it would hurt you.” She paused and finished, “And worry you for you desire so to protect me against, well…everything.”
Aramus did not reply because he was hurt.
He was also angry.
However, he could understand, for his Ha-Lah, this
was not easy.
His queen said nothing either, just studied him apprehensively.
“There are more of you,” he eventually stated.
“We—”
“Have legs,” he interrupted her to point out.
“We developed the ability to…yes, have legs.”
“And pass.”
“Pass?”
“Pass as human.”
She looked away.
“How many are there?” he demanded to know.
She turned again to him, but her gaze darted around the courtyard as she said, “We should speak of this inside.”
“No one will harm you,” he proclaimed, and watched her body twitch at his grand tone. “Not only because you are queen, but because if anyone harms a Mer, they will hang from a yardarm, their blood draining from their throats.”
And yet again, her yes grew round.
“You have the protection of the king, and when I say you, I mean you and all of your people,” he decreed. “I will speak with Cassius, Elena, Ophelia, Mars, True, and I will demand that the Mer have protections in their realms and any who hurt the Mer will be punished severely. I cannot decide that punishment for another ruler. But if I do not feel it is enough, I will renege on opening passage of the seas and binding their citizens if they should try.”
“Aramus—”
“And once we ascertain there will be no unrest due to the abolition of binding in this land, I will outlaw the hunting of whales and dolphins, squid, octopi and sea lions.”
The bright of tears returned to her eyes.
“And after that has been established, and any revolt that might come of it quelled, we will reintroduce the Mer to our lands and our seas and they will be under the strict protection of the king.”
“A-all right,” she forced out.
“Now, how many are there of your people?”
“I do not know, but there are…quite a few,” she answered. “The rest live solely in the depths of the seas, somewhere I’ve never gone.”
He nodded.
“Aramus—”
He did not let her finish for he was not done, and he had left the most important for last.
“We will keep nothing from each other, not again,” he declared.
“I hesitate to say this, for I agree with you, and I must share that it has been very difficult for me, trying to understand how best to tell you what I so wanted you to know. It becoming worse now, when you know, but it was not me who told you.”
“I do not hesitate to say that I find it difficult to feel sorry for you, my queen.”
The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3) Page 18