Secrets of Galathea Volume 1

by Elle Beaumont

  Loch had sent out missives by way of a conch shell and summoned the Galathea Coven to the palace—it wouldn’t be long now, soon they could address the issues at hand. And perhaps magic stood a chance.

  A knock broke him from his thoughts. Ruari spun around, swam toward the door and opened it. “You… are not at all who I was expecting.” He blinked and shrunk back as the merman thrust his tail to push forward.

  “And yet here I am,” came the droll reply.

  “How lovely it is to see you, Jager,” Ruari teased him, but uncertainty wrinkled his brow.

  Jager ran a hand along his shaved head and muttered something under his breath. “Whenever I see you it’s for a terrible reason, so I can’t say the same, Prince.” His dark blue eyes swept along Ruari’s form. “Where did it happen?”

  Ruari’s expression gave nothing away, although internally he was wondering how in the depths this merman knew something happened.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Jager, unimpressed, crossed his arms and eyed Ruari. “I will bind you to the floor and strip you myself if I have to.”

  Against his better judgment, Ruari decided to prod him. “Why are you here?”

  Unfolding his arms, Jager advanced on Ruari, but he did supply an answer. “There is a meeting that is scheduled, in case you forgot. Now if I have to—” His words were cut off as Ruari shifted.

  Satisfied, but still annoyed, Ruari untied the collar of the shirt and pulled it down to reveal the deep black and purple bruising.

  Jager hissed and bent his head to inspect it. They were hands and yet not, hands with elongated fingers. The middle two were gnarled and twisted so that they appeared to slither up his neck.

  “No,” Jager breathed out and reeled back as if it had burned him. “Not already.”

  Ruari grimaced. “You felt it, I imagine?”

  “But not like that, he’s never…” Jager looked as horrified as Ruari did yesterday.

  “He’s your brother, somewhere in there—I imagine a part of him is incapable.”

  A contemplative look replaced the scowl on Jager’s face. “Maybe.” He motioned toward Ruari to tie his shirt again. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Outside of the meeting hall, Ruari pulled up the facade of confidence and leaned against the wall lazily. His eyes searched the immediate area as the mer collected in the corridor. He saw Zinnia looking for someone, and he hoped to Muir that it was him. His chest constricted as her dark eyes landed on him and he offered her a smile.

  Zinnia took it as an invite and swam up to him. “So, this is it,” she murmured.

  There should have been more formality between them, but when had Ruari ever cared for such things? He lifted his hand and pushed her hair behind her ear. “A fair chance, and this is it. I’ve fought as hard as I could—short of campaigning against my brother and slander—which I would never do—there is nothing else to be done.”

  Zinnia moved forward, kissed her forefinger and middle finger, then placed them against his lips. It was a bold enough movement on her part, as there were so many eyes watching them.

  Ruari gently took her hand and placed soft kisses to the inside of her wrist. Let them watch, let them see, he didn’t give a damn. “No matter the outcome, there is always this,” he said in reference to their budding relationship.

  “I could live with that, I suppose…” Her words trailed off.

  Ruari opened his mouth to reply but just as he did Loch swam into the corridor and pushed open the doors.

  “Let us begin,” Loch announced and swam to the head of the table. He draped his tail along the chair and motioned for everyone to take a seat as well.

  Thankfully, Ruari was next to Zinnia, and beneath the table he clutched onto her hand, stroking it with his thumb.

  “We are here to vote on something that has come to our attention this month. Should magic be banned amongst our kind? It would cause the Galathea Coven to disband—we need not worry about Selith Academy anymore since that was taken care of, but now what of magic? I’ll not be voting on this as I’m biased. I’m simply here to listen and play mediator.” Loch appraised the individuals gathered and nodded his head.

  Loch continued, “I’ll allow the Galathea Coven to speak first, let us hear their side and why it is in Selith’s best interest to keep magic in practice.” He motioned with his hand and turned his gaze to Oinone.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty, but I will respectfully defer that question to one of my pupils, Zinnia. As you recall, she won the Trial, and I believe she has a better grasp on the importance than most.”

  Zinnia froze next to Ruari, her dark eyes wide with horror. “Mistress, I—”

  Ruari leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Are more than capable of answering. I believe in you.” He gave her hand a firm squeeze and settled against the back of his chair once again. His features took on an unreadable expression.

  “I was not prepared to speak today,” Zinnia began, “and so excuse me for not articulating this well, but it is my belief that our kingdom needs magic to remain in practice because it is part of us. It is in us, and it was how our god created us, too.” She looked around the room and bit her bottom lip. “Without magic we most certainly would remain alive, but would we thrive? When our brethren in other kingdoms practice—what of unforeseen wars with them? We would be laid to waste without it…” Zinnia paused to allow the room to absorb her words.

  Ruari had turned his gaze to her and he could not help but allow a fraction of his surprise to enter his gaze. She was right—but would the others agree? Or would they simply brush off the idea of a future war?

  “Defenses aside, you can ban the use of magic, but you cannot strip magic from a citizen. It is as part of them as their hair—their skin even. Who is to say it wouldn’t create an onslaught of illegal practices? I fear the ban of magic would create more problems than solutions, Council, Your Majesty.” She turned to look at each of them.

  Again, she was right. Ruari fidgeted beside her. These were all things he had thought of and had voiced to Loch. Moving his head, he peered over at his brother and saw his brows furrow, and his lips pinched in thought. Good, Ruari mused, good.

  By the time Zinnia was done, Loch had settled his gaze on Ruari, motioning with his hand to speak.

  It was Ruari who spoke next. “In addition to what Zinnia wisely said, I would like to say this—do not make the mistake of fearing what you do not know, or creating prejudice by banning what you don’t understand. Zinnia was right—there will always be those who practice no matter what, and those that practice the Dark Arts will not cease to do so simply because you banned it.”

  “He is right,” Jager interjected. “If His Majesty, rest his soul, King Eidir, had banned it centuries ago, Kriegen would have rebelled and brought more with him. Would you leave that up to chance now?”

  Loch seemed to flinch at the words but did not say anything, instead, he drummed his fingers on the table. “Is that all?” He surveyed the faces and nodded his head. “Very well, it is the Council’s turn.”

  So it went—not all opposed magic, some were for it, others were for restrictions and some were simply against it altogether. Ruari’s head throbbed and his neck ached, but beneath the table, he held Zinnia’s hand, which soothed him to some degree.

  Loch dismissed the coven members from the room, and they were left to congregate in the corridor once more.

  Ruari’s fingers curled around Zinnia’s hand as the hopeful murmurs of the witches swirled around in the water. He hoped—prayed that this would work in their favor.

  “All we can do is hope and pray,” Oinone said, swimming up next to Ruari, echoing his sentiments.

  “One can hope,” he said softly, closing his eyes.

  Beside Zinnia, Dru blew bubbles in the water and muttered. “Is this the universe’s way of saying we made the wrong career choice?”

  Ruari, torn between laughing and chastising him, opted to laugh. “No, t
he universe—or at the very least—Muir made us what we are, with magic, and intended for us to use it for the greater good. One bad clam does not make all of us so.”

  He could say it out loud until his face turned blue, but would it make a difference and would they listen? Soon they would know.

  Zinnia pressed her back against the wall, her arms folding across her chest. The soft blue dress she wore danced in the water.

  Ruari hated that it was a waiting game, but the mermaid by his side seemed to calm him. “It’s curious,” he began.

  “What is?” Zinnia asked.

  “That a grand event is what has brought us together,” Ruari supplied.

  Zinnia’s eyebrows knit together and she laughed. “The Trial was a good thing.”

  “Yes, it was, but I meant the battle at the crevice… What if we had never seen one another again after the Trial?” Ruari mused out loud.

  Zinnia snorted playfully and gave his arm a gentle shove, only to blush furiously moments later as the eyes of many fell on them. “Impossible—you would have eventually swam up to my door like I distinctly remember you doing.”

  Ruari’s eyes sparkled with mischief and he shrugged a shoulder. “As you say, Miss Zinnia.”

  If only things could have remained so light and airy, but as the door to the hall opened, dread seemed to unfurl in the water and spread.

  “A decision has been made,” Loch proclaimed as he swam from the hall. “After considering everyone’s words and views—” His eyes flicked to Ruari, a silent apology flickering in them. “The vote favored banning magic.”

  A collective gasp rang out, and chaos erupted in the form of shouting. Luckily there were guards nearby to create a barrier between Loch and the throng of individuals.

  “Surely you cannot do this!” an elder witch shouted.

  Loch lifted a brow and shot the merman a look. “You will all do well to collect yourselves. This is not an easy decision on anyone’s part. You are free to practice for now, until the decree is made. But after that, if anyone is caught practicing—if any coven member is found dabbling—there will be dire consequences.” Loch clenched his jaw and swam from the area, guards flanking him.

  “Great Muir,” Oinone said sadly.

  “I’m sure it was very difficult on his part,” Dru muttered next to Zinnia.

  Ruari’s green eyes flashed and he peered at the merman. “Don’t start,” he snapped.

  “Enough, the both of you,” Zinnia interjected, placing a hand on both of their arms. “It will do no one any good if you’re at one another’s throats. We will not be divided.” She lowered her hand to clasp onto Ruari’s, then turned her head to eye Dru.

  “All right, I get it.” Dru let his pale blue eyes flick to their joined hands. “All of it.”

  A guard swam into the area and motioned to the witches. “It is time to clear out now,” he announced. The tight expression on his face was almost unreadable, but the look he gave Ruari said it all: ‘I’m sorry.’

  Swimming forward with Zinnia in tow, Ruari began to lead the witches out.

  This was not a time to rejoice; the decision changed the course of Selith for the worse, in Ruari’s mind. He could not bring himself to look at Zinnia, or Oinone, as they swam through corridor after corridor.

  It wasn’t until they reached the great hall that Ruari’s mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but no words came. Instead his eyes latched onto Oinone. Her form began to convulse, and if he hadn’t been paying attention he would have missed the black tendrils that moved through the water and around her neck.

  “No,” he cried and launched forward.

  The surrounding mer began to convulse. Oinone’s face grew reddened as an inky print coiled around her neck like a noose. She clawed at it with her nails in desperation; nearly all of the mer were afflicted with the same phantom tentacles.

  Ruari was spared this time. His eyes darted to Dru and Zinnia—by the grace of Muir they were fine. “Ward yourselves, now!” he shouted. “Those of you not afflicted, wards up!” Too busy to ward himself, Ruari began to sing and coax the tentacles away from their victims.

  Soon, whoever was able and unbound began to attend to the fallen mer.

  “Oinone! Fight it,” Ruari whispered and ran his fingers along the coil on her throat. She was choking and the air was gone from her lungs—her gills desperately tried to suck in water.

  Guards spilled into the area, creating even more chaos, but Ruari and the others seemed to block out their presence.

  Songs filled the current, disrupting the water as magic both good and dark flooded the area. Woads of blue marked the water; ancient symbols of light attacked the tendrils as each mer assailed the vicious tentacles.

  Jager darted through the writhing bodies. Magic shone a brilliant blue in his grasp, forming a glowing orb in his palm. He flung it at the prone body of Oinone and she shuddered.

  The tendrils slipped away as Jager scooped her up in his grasp. “Oinone!” he rasped out, cupping her pale face. His eyes flicked up to Ruari, fury and sadness flooding his gaze.

  “Finish… what… was started.” Her words spilled out as blood bubbled from Oinone’s mouth, staining the water. “Be a voice.” A coughing fit wracked her body and with each cough, her veins seemed to blacken.

  Ruari bent and kissed Oinone’s brow, quietly sobbing. His fingers gently lifted her limp hand and he took stock of what her pale flesh looked like. Ink-stained, as if one had injected her veins with it.

  “They’re… dead.” It was Loch’s voice that broke Ruari from his silent torment. “What has happened? Ruari?” His voice filled with panic as he swam around the room in search of his brother.

  “I’m here. Not all are dead, just the elders.” He clenched his jaw and rubbed at his reddened eyes.

  Loch pinned Jager where he sat on the floor. “It’s your brother, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Jager visibly shook with fury, hissing his words. “Yes, the bindings have all been broken.” Running a hand down his face, he tilted his head back to glare up at Loch. “Now he comes for all of our blood. Congratulations, Your Majesty. Your council has banned magic at the most inconvenient of times.”

  “How can we hope to fight the Kraken without our magic! Who is to say you haven’t been poisoned, Your Highness? Maybe you’re siding with the Kraken.” One of the younger mer scowled.

  “Enough! Now is not the time. We have kin to see to, and a plan to come up with.” Ruari pushed himself from the floor with his tail and lifted his hands to undo the collar of his shirt. “We will mourn the loss of our friends and family after.”

  Loch grimaced before he moved forward to yank Ruari into an embrace. “I never meant for this to happen.”

  That may have been the case, but Ruari had warned his brother and now that the kingdom needed defending and magic was banned, it was needed to protect Selith and the mer.

  “Gather your wits, brothers and sisters, the kingdom needs us.” It was Zinnia who spoke and began to direct the remainder of the coven.

  The riot in the hall might have settled, but the mer in the palace were still reeling from the attack. Each one discovered a black tendril that spread from their palm to their forearm—as if branded by the Kraken’s magic—and Ruari supposed that was exactly what it was. He would come for them all, he would rise from the depths and exact his revenge. To what end, though?

  “Your kingdom needs you,” Loch began.

  “It needs our magic that you just banned!” one of the young mermaids spat.

  Loch’s brows furrowed and he turned to Ruari for aid.

  Sighing, Ruari swam to the young mer. “That is true, and we can debate about the ethics at another time, but right now that beast we tried locking away a month ago is rising from his prison.”

  Loch swam up to him and pressed a hand to his bicep. “What are we going to do?”

  Ruari jammed his fingers through his hair and grimaced. “You’re not going to like it,” he murmured.
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  “Ruari…”

  “There are a few members of the coven who can siphon magic—Zinnia is one of them.” Ruari motioned with his hand to where Zinnia floated.

  With wide eyes, Loch stared at her and he nodded his head. “I remember, it was how she won the Trial. But siphoning magic will surely kill her—”

  “No,” Zinnia interjected. “Not kill, but it is dangerous. I trust my brothers and sisters,” she said motioning to the other siphons. “Together we have a chance to drain him—to bring Kriegen back. Where is Jager?” Her dark eyes searched the area.

  Ruari spun around. Where was he? “Jager?” he called out and swam around. He had just been with them a moment ago; where had the cantankerous man gone? “Jager!” Ruari’s limbs felt numb. “You fool,” he whispered. “I can only assume he went to the crevice by himself.” Ruari would have done the same if it was his brother.

  Loch straightened and cocked his head to the side. “We need to devise a plan and quickly, then we will swim after that fool. It is time that Kraken is buried for good.”

  “Then we must assemble all the covens—and call to our neighboring kingdoms,” Ruari offered.

  “So be it. You heard him, do it!” Loch frowned as he regarded his brother. “I never meant—”

  “No king is without some regret, Brother.” He watched as his brother swam away. There was much to do in a short amount of time. But one thing was for certain—come what way—the Kraken would not survive this attack.

  King of the Sea

  Alone in his quarters, Loch lifted his hands to his face and wept. It was too much—the death of Father—watching the gruesome battle, and then the death of the elder sea-witches. He had never witnessed anything so wicked in his life.

  Not only that, but a divide seemed to grow between himself and Ruari. A divide that stemmed from them to the kingdom. Would the merfolk of Selith ever forgive him?

  But what else could be done? The council had made its decision. Still, it didn’t keep Loch from fearing that another Kriegen would rise, and use magic for an even darker purpose.