She shook her head. “No. He did not fall in love with me. He followed orders. He is a Trusted One after all.”
“I fear what should have been a much different conversation between us, I have ruined,” I stated miserably.
“No,” she disagreed. “It is the first time you have spoken unguarded to me since we were girls. It is all now gone. There is nothing between us. No intrigues, no lies. And as it was only me who pushed these things between us, I feel relief that they are gone. Thus, here we start.”
“Here we start,” I said uncertainly.
“I have learned to be a friend, Elena. It is new to me, as it is not to you.” She tipped her head to the side. “Perhaps you will help to continue to guide the way?”
“I would…that would be…” I drew in breath to pull myself together. “That would make me happy.”
She nodded briskly and turned her attention to the view.
I followed suit.
I gave it time before I said, “Thank you for bringing Melisse.”
“Mother needed her, Melisse needed to see Mum, and you needed Melisse.”
A triple win in thoughtfulness for my sister.
Yes, she had changed.
We fell silent again.
Not long later, the gnomes joined us.
One walked to the very edge of the cliff and sat there with his back to us.
The other one, to my shock, dropped down by Serena. She straightened her legs when he did, and thus, when he fell to his back, his head was resting on her ankle.
By the goddess, she had very much changed.
“All right, you’re going to have to share about Galbdor and Welbrix,” I declared, even if they were both right there.
“Gal and Brix,” she corrected me. “And all you need to know is that both of them will stiff you on the tally when you’re out drinking if you’re not careful.”
“That is untrue,” Brix, at the edge, called irritably.
“It is very true,” Gal, at Serena’s ankle, stated good-naturedly. “Never start a tally with a gnome. You’ll be paying.”
Brix twisted to glare at Gal. “You need to stop telling these Nadirii all our secrets, Galbdor.”
“I told you when he had a drink with you, or twelve, he would stiff you,” Gal said to Serena.
“I never buy drinks. I have breasts. I press them together, and some fool male slobbers over himself in order to throw coin at my tankard,” Serena returned.
“This is the only time in my life I wished I had breasts,” Brix muttered.
I couldn’t believe it, I let out a little laugh.
I then took a chance and bumped my shoulder to my sister’s.
She did not bump back.
But she also did not draw away.
Prince Cassius
Night Heights Mountain Range
AIREN
Cassius moved to where Mac was standing on the ridge, regarding the slope below.
He stopped beside his captain.
“How many of them are there?” he asked Mac.
“Ten thousand, give or take a few hundred…or thousand,” Mac replied drily.
Cass felt his heart squeeze and his mouth get tight.
He also felt Mac’s regard.
“We have cliffs to the north. Cliffs to the east. Cliffs to the west. The Nadirii selected an excellent place in which their queen could die, it is not easy to get to. But now, the enemy blocks the only way out,” Mac told him.
Cassius said nothing.
“One way or another, we’re going to have to fight our way out of here, brother,” Mac shared. “And the numbers aren’t in our favor.”
Cassius stared down the dark, quiet slope.
No rustling.
No fires.
Well hidden.
Ready for an ambush.
“We attack in the morning,” he decreed.
Mac shifted and Cass knew he was turning fully to his prince.
“Have you lost your mind?” he asked.
He gave his eyes to his friend. “No.”
“We’re outnumbered, likely ten to one.”
“Yes.”
“Frey is with us. Do you intend to use the dragons?”
“No.”
“We need more time to create a strategy.”
“I already have a strategy.”
“Cass—”
“You can come out,” Cass called.
Mac jerked around, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
“No need for that, soldier. Good gods, you Airenzian blokes are sword-happy,” the man forming from the shadows said to Mac.
He took shape as much as he could lit only by moonlight.
“Hello, Silvanus,” Cassius greeted.
The Zee doffed his hat, bent low at the waist in a mock tribute, then straightened, returning his hat to its jaunty angle.
“Howzit, Your Grace,” the Zee replied.
And with that, Silvanus’s mouth split into a smile that was blinding, even in the moonlight.
Cassius did not smile back.
He looked to Mac and answered his unasked question.
“As you can see, we will not be calling the dragons, not yet. For we’ll be using the Zees.”
He glanced to Silvanus and caught a bloody sparkle in the man’s eye before he turned back to Mac and finished.
“And Fern’s army.”
115
The Mer
Queen Ha-Lah
Nautilus Beach, Strait of Medusa
MAR-EL
“I do not like this,” my husband shared something that I was in no doubt about, considering his expression and the way he held his body.
We stood in the sand on the empty beach, the pre-dawn wind whipping about us, and we did this holding hands.
“I will be fine,” I assured.
“You could catch a chill,” he returned. “It is coming on winter and that water—”
I squeezed his hand. “Aramus, I am Mer, my darling. I do not feel it.”
He glowered down at me.
I leaned into him and gave him a reassuring smile.
“We are here while all are still abed. No one can see us. I will go, then I will return, hopefully with new allies in the seas.”
Close to the end of my words, I noted I was losing his attention as his gaze drifted to the ocean.
It was then I felt it, so intent on assuring my king, its coming did not register with me.
Thus, I whirled and but only glanced at the waters before my hand tightened in his and I shouted, “Run!”
Aramus did not need me to share this warning, he was already bracing to drag me up the beach.
Thus, together, we bolted up the shore.
His boots sunk in the sand, and I lost a slipper before I’d taken two steps, the other one on the third, but the both of us knew it was useless as the roar of the water filled our ears.
This was why Aramus tossed me to the sand. And I had barely hit before he was throwing himself bodily over me.
He wrapped his arms around me tightly, just as the tidal landed on his back.
Being dragged uncontrollably into the sea, I wrapped an arm around him too, cupping the back of his head with my other hand and pulling his mouth to mine.
I opened my lips, he opened his, thus our lips were sealed, and we held to each other tightly as the power of the seas drug us deep.
I felt my legs knitting, the scales pressing through the skin as they formed, my gills opening, while the water twisted us and towed us, flipped us and twirled us.
I knew only one thing in the tumult, I had to keep hold of my husband, and I had to keep his mouth to mine, breathing air into him, until it was over.
For if I did this, no matter how deep it swept us out to sea, I could take him with me as I swam back.
I simply had to keep him alive until the furor was over, and we could surface.
Aramus knew this was my strategy, thus he held my head to his as I did the same and locked
his long legs around my scaly hips.
We could do this, together.
I could help him survive.
I would help him survive.
All we had to do was hold on.
On this thought, he was ripped from my arms.
My underwater scream formed large bubbles as I began to flip my fin to regain my hold on my king, but I got nowhere, and not only because I froze at what I saw before me.
Hands had seized me under my arms.
I turned my head to the side and looked angrily at one of the mermales who had a hold on me and was drawing me deeper into the sea.
My watery words I knew he could hear.
“He cannot breathe!” I screamed, violently trying to pull at his hold.
The mermale remained facing forward, his grip on me unbreakable as we swam deeper.
“The pressure!” I shrieked.
The male just glanced at me and carried on swimming.
I tugged and fought as we followed the males dragging my husband into the depths of the ocean, my heart beating a fierce tattoo, my mind sending messages to my friends to come and save me.
Save me.
And my husband.
Save us…
From my people.
I saw the dolphins, and the octopi, even a few whales in the distance.
But I did not think to call out to them as I also saw the manner in which Aramus’s body floated in the hold of the mermales before us.
“No!” I screeched.
He could not be dead.
Please, no.
He could not be dead.
My mind scrambled.
How long had he been separated from me?
Too long.
Oh, Medusa.
He could not be dead!
I struggled with all I had against the hold on me.
“You will calm, maid,” the mermale on my other side demanded.
“You will let me go!” I shouted.
“You are not queen here, Ha-Lah,” he told me.
No, I was not.
Sirens dammit.
“By the gods, by Medusa, by the sirens,” I chanted, so fraught, I paid no heed to the dim light I could now see shining from below.
Where we were heading.
All right.
I had to think.
My beloved was the Sea King.
The Mer would not kill the Sea King. His line was chosen by the gods. Triton and Medusa would be furious.
My people would do naught to anger the gods. Especially not Triton and Medusa, whose loved created the Mer. Mer revered Triton and Medusa almost past reasoning.
I knew, for I was Mer and I did too.
Thus, they must be taking him to air, and doing it swiftly, for they swam much faster than us.
These thoughts assailing me, it was only vaguely I noted the ocean floor as it became awash with bright blooms of sea anemone, not as if they grew naturally, but as if we were entering a garden.
Ahead of us, the males dragged Aramus’s body through a slim opening which was the source of the light. This opening being a slit in a great cavern.
There would be air there, I prayed.
There had to be air there.
My captors and I entered behind them.
We swam through a tunnel, me trying to make them do it faster, the light becoming brighter and brighter, before I noticed, my heart slamming in my chest, Aramus and his abductors dipping low, apparently entering a larger section.
Going down was not good.
They must endeavor to go up.
All right.
They had to know what they were doing.
He would be fine.
They would keep him alive.
He was the Sea King.
They were surely taking him to a bubble of air.
I knew there were pockets of air under the surface. They were how, in times millennia ago, the Mer had adapted to being able to breathe outside the water, as well as in it.
I was pulled into the larger section, a mammoth cavern that went down stories upon stories of what would be human buildings, and up the same. Not to mention, it was so vast across, it could fit half a dozen of the coliseums of Fire City within it.
And I stopped.
I reared back as the massive space around me could be seen, mermaids and males swimming amongst other sea life, anemones sprouting from below and along the tall walls of the vast space, sea lettuce and kelp drifting lazily.
And all around, from the bottom to a top that went so high up, I could not see its end, there appeared to be doors or windows, the latter with lights shining through. Some even had what appeared to be window boxes tucked with sea lettuce and anemone and trailing vines of seaweed.
These were dwellings.
But I could pay very little mind to that.
Or to where they took my husband.
For right before me floated a mermale, the largest I’d ever seen who also had the longest, most powerful fin I’d ever beheld. His tail had to be at least fifteen feet long, curling behind him.
I didn’t even know merfins could get that long.
His chest was wide. His muscles pronounced. The definition of his stomach indented. The veins along his forearms distended.
His hair was long and jet black.
His beard was thick and distinct, the swoop of whiskers guiding from his beard up to the bottom edge of his lower lip something, in other circumstances, I might find fascinating.
His thick, dark eyebrows were drawn.
His eyes were a startling silver I had seen before.
He was carrying a fearsome trident in one fist.
He scowled at me before he growled, “Welcome, Ha-Lah.”
And then he turned on a supple swell and swam ahead of us.
We followed, straight to another sea wall, swimming down, to and through a tall, arched doorway that was adorned with floating anemone and set with seashells and pearls in an extraordinary pattern I did not have it within me to appreciate at that time.
Beyond the arch, we swam through another tunnel into another open underwater pool, and then we swam upwards.
My gills closed instantly as we made a glassy surface that only broke with the most gentle of ripples at our emergence.
Here, I saw we were in a grotto that had an island in the middle on which was built a magnificent half dome, the opening pointed my way, that seemed to shine with an ethereal bright pearly light.
And on the smooth rocks that formed the island’s base, beyond the opening to the dome, lay my husband.
I also saw the merman who had met us had formed legs and he was walking, nude, up the rocks of the island, his trident still in his hand.
I pulled viciously at the hold on me, and I did not pause to register surprise when they easily released me.
I also did not look at the variety of Mer bobbing about in the pool around me, or the ones that milled about on the island, including the mermaid who was handing the silver-eyed, raven-haired mermale a pair of trousers.
I struck out toward my husband.
I ignored the pain of the split I felt as I closed in on the island and formed legs.
I just found my feet on the rocks in the shallows and ran through them, my sodden gown slapping against my skin.
Aramus was on his side, his back to me, and I fell to me knees when I reached him, pressing him to his back, battling fear and hysteria and a pain so overwhelming, it threatened to consume me.
His eyes were closed.
My king looked to be asleep.
Oh, Medusa.
Maybe he had not survived that swim.
Or maybe the weight of the sea had crushed his innards, made pulp of his brain.
Regardless of these thoughts, I pressed against his chest, holding to hope that it was just water in his lungs, thinking fast about how, once I revived him, I could get him back to the surface. Back to the beach.
Back home.
As I pumped, I lifted my accusatory gaz
e to the silver-eyed male who stood, now wearing trousers that appeared to be subtly gilded leathers, the shine against the gray material shimmering a light aqua and silver.
He was leaning negligently on his bloody trident.
“You sent that tidal!” I bit.
“If you spent time amongst your people, Ha-Lah,” his deep voice returned to me, “you would know, with the magic of a Mer, if a human has the touch of one of our own, we can take him or her anywhere we wish, even to the bottom of the deepest depths of the sea.”
I stopped pressing against Aramus’s chest as relief flooded through me, and with it came the ability to gather my wits enough to look down upon my husband and see he was breathing.
This was joyous.
And I felt that joy.
But our abduction was anything but.
And thus, I felt fury.
I lifted squinty eyes at the male.
He shook his head, muttering with disgust, “The land Mer. So intent on passing, they forget who they are.”
“The decision to remain on land was not made by me, male,” I snapped. “It was made generations before my existence was even a hope.”
“But have you visited us?” he asked, opening a hand and using it to indicate our surroundings. “Have you come to be amongst your people?”
“No,” I spat. “And it would appear it was a smart decision, as I am not feeling much delight at the manner of my first invitation here.”
The male glowered at me, and I assumed, quite rightly in my mind, that meant my point was taken.
“And I was amongst my people on the surface,” I went on. “Or have you forsaken us as it’s clear you feel I have forsaken you?”
He had no answer to that either.
I decided not to pursue that line of questioning any longer, for something vastly more important took precedence.
“Why does my husband sleep?” I demanded.
“He was struggling. If his guards lost hold on him, he would die. Necessity urged he lose consciousness. Thus…” he trailed off on a shrug and an indication with a tip of his head to Aramus.
“When will he wake?” I asked.
The male shrugged. “He will be fine.”
With some difficulty (it must be said, my husband was bulky), I pulled Aramus’s torso up and held him to me as I kept my gaze pinned on the mermale.
“Why did you send the tidal?”
“You were coming to us, were you not?” he asked.
The Dawn of the End (The Rising Book 3) Page 43