Sunken Empire

by Brandy Slaven

  The five-person sized bed I woke up in the second time is to the left of the door, and to the right is a massive bathroom that rivals even Zale’s. Next to that is a large walk-in closet with a dressing area complete with a three-sided mirror and vanity.

  Now that I know the story, I come to the conclusion that this room belonged to their mother. It’s confirmed when Merrick makes the slip of calling it the Queen’s Suite. Which is such an amazing honor, but I just don’t feel right wearing her clothes.

  I search the closest for something simple to wear the first day but come up empty-handed. When I finally feel like I can’t take the dress anymore, I resign myself to digging through the closet for a second time. I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I feel like things have changed in it. The colors are more subtle and not as flashy.

  Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I can’t help but think someone cleaned out the entire thing and restocked it to my tastes while I wasn’t awake to see them. I refuse to believe anything else.

  Moving towards the back, I find a pair of blue-jeans and a cotton tank top that seem safe enough. This creepy-ass wardrobe is definitely going on the list of stuff the three Zs and I need to have a chat about.

  As always, I’m back to thinking of them again.

  “Ugh,” I sigh, frustrated with myself.

  Walking through the French doors onto the balcony, I find myself staring out into the small city, if it can be called that. Something I’ve learned over the past few days is that the soft glow from their light source in the sky never goes away, so it’s impossible to tell if it’s day or night. I wonder if everyone just keeps their own schedules and sleeps when they're tired. It has to be the case because there’s always people going to and fro. Men, not people, really. Which is another issue all on its own.

  I’m supposed to bring glory back to these men, but how are they supposed to repopulate without women? I’m not sure if this will be a problem that I am tasked with later down the road, but I want to do anything I can to help them.

  The weirdest sensation has started working its way through me ever since the witch reminded me of who I am. It was buried deep in my subconscious, but when the guys left a few days ago, it started getting worse. There’s an itch underneath my skin that doesn’t seem to want to go away. I’m hoping it’s just nerves and stress, not some mad case of ick or something.

  Or it could be something else entirely.

  A shudder racks my body and makes me wish the feeling would just stop altogether. It drives me back inside, where I fall face-first into the soft mattress. I don’t bother to strip the new clothes off for two reasons. One, it just requires more energy than I want to expend getting back to my feet. And two, who knows if I’ll get them back. The whole room could shift around while I sleep, and I’ll end up stuck in a dress again. So, instead, I simply close my eyes and try to shut down my thoughts.

  What could be hours, but feels like minutes later, I’m jerking upright in bed. Remnants of the nightmare leaving me a sweaty mess tangled in the rich sheets.

  “Okay, fuck this,” I say, throwing the bedding back and standing.

  The decision has already been made, and I seriously cannot fathom another reason to keep procrastinating the inevitable while avoiding the Zs.

  I jerk the main door open wide, and a scream gets lodged in my throat as a figure jumps up from the opposite wall.

  “What are you doing?” I ask Zephyr when I can speak again with a hand across my chest trying to calm my racing heart.

  He moves until he’s inches from my face. “I wanted to be here just in case you needed anything...or anyone.”

  His admission melts my heart, and I almost forget why I started putting the distance between myself and them in the first place as I ask, “How long have you been out here?”

  Flicking his arm up, he looks down at an imaginary watch. “Oh, about seventy-ish hours. Give or take.”

  I shake my head at his admission, and he captures my chin to hold me still while he says, “Grieving alone sucks. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

  Stepping fully into his space, I reach up on my toes to press my lips against his cheek. “Thank you. I wasn’t grieving really but thank you. I just needed to process.”

  He nods his head but with a disheartened expression. “Can I ask you something, Rubi?”

  Anything to erase that frown on his face right now.

  “Of course,” I reply quickly.

  “Is there a reason why you’ve kissed my brothers and not me?” he asks sullenly.

  Instead of removing the frown, it simply deepens, much to my dismay. One would think that his statement alone would be enough of a reason. I mean, come on; I’ve kissed both of his brothers. Apparently, it’s not, because he’s still waiting on an answer.

  As much as I’d love to reach up on my toes and press my lips against his instead of his cheek, I don’t.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m still dealing with a lot of things,” I admit. Which isn’t exactly the truth, but it isn’t a lie either.

  Smiling to relieve the sting of rejection, I add, “Besides, it’s not like kissing Zanthus was intentional. He pretty much didn’t give me a choice.”

  When his face takes a dark turn, I wonder if I’ve said the right thing.

  “You always have a choice,” he all but growls.

  This is my first time seeing this intense side of Zephyr. I’m not sure how to respond, but lucky me, I don’t have to. The switch flips back off again, and he’s smiling.

  Then comes the real problem. Something about his smile is irresistible. I’m almost saying screw it and throwing morals out of the window when his brothers round the corner. I try to take a step back, but Zephyr reaches out and pulls me closer with a wink. Neither one of them bats an eye at our position.

  “I’m glad you’re awake,” Zale starts. “How are you feeling?”

  I shrug. “I’m okay. Just needed some time.”

  Zale nods in understanding. “Anyone would. Feel up to leaving the Keep today?”

  Already in my heart, I know that I’m going to accept whatever these guys throw at me, but I still hesitate to give my head a chance to catch up.

  I smile at the three of them before answering with, “Yes.”

  Zanthus looks smug as Zale claps his hands once and says, “Great, let’s go.”

  Zephyr and I follow behind the others as they lead us down different corridors. Admiring their backsides while their brother’s hand is in mine is stupid awkward, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

  As per usual, my anxiety turns into words. “So why is Zephyr the only one with tattoos?”

  Zale and Zephyr laugh as Zanthus flicks a glance over his shoulder that says he knows I’ve been checking them out and answers, “Zephyr spent a lot of time in the human world the past few years. That’s where he acquired their curious desire for markings. Though, I’ll never understand the point of such randomness. He may be alone in that barbaric human custom, but we each wear the honorable markings of our clan, or at least we used to.”

  “What happened to them?” I ask curiously, giving his body another once over to see if I missed it in one of the ten times I’ve checked him out.

  The corners of his lips pull up. “The witch. Our powers being drained from us started to fade our markings. We were hoping they’d return with our magic.”

  “So, I’m the only one with markings now,” Zephyr brags. “Even if they are humanly barbaric.”

  “Except for our birthmarks,” Zale’s voice flows back to me.

  I haven’t seen anything that stands out on them, so I’m almost afraid to ask where they are.

  Zephyr beats me to the punch as he holds out his left hand. In between this thumb and forefinger is a small design. Three lines on top of each other in a squiggle motion that makes me think of the wind. I run my thumb over the bluish mark, and he grins down at me. I realize Zanthus and Zale have stopped to watch us. I reach out
for Zale since he’s closer, and he complies instantly, putting his hand in mine. His mark looks like a small blue wave getting ready to crest on the ocean.

  When I turn to Zanthus, he pauses for so long that it makes me want to smack him. Eventually, after a few seconds long staring match, he lets me have his hand. His mark looks almost like a pale blue infinity symbol.

  I don’t know where their words come from because it’s not even close to being on the same subject of our conversation, but I blurt, “Bruinen is, was, my father.”

  Only Zephyr and Zanthus seem surprised, which leads me to believe Zale had at least suspected. They’re all standing there waiting for me to say something else, so I lick my lips and tell them, “I just thought you deserved to know I’m the daughter of your enemy before anything else happens.”

  Anything being those kisses Zephyr is jealous he hasn’t been privy to or the revealing of any secrets they may not want descendants of their worst enemy to know. As far as I know, they’ve been nothing but honest and deserve nothing but the same in return.

  “We can’t choose the family we’re born into, damselfish. It’s who you choose to become that defines the person you are,” Zale says, his brothers nodding in agreement.

  “That’s why you haven’t kissed me yet, isn’t it?” Zephyr asks with a casual smirk, attempting to lighten the mood.

  I can’t fight a smile even if I wanted to when I lie, “No, I haven’t kissed you yet because your breath smells fishy.”

  When Zanthus barks out a laugh, I can’t decide which makes me happier, hearing it or knowing I’m the one that made it happen. He closes the distance between us and drops a quick kiss on my forehead.

  Then he and Zale are leading us again, and going back to our other conversation, I admit, “Your birthmarks are kind of awesome. I hope I get to see the markings of your clan.”

  Zephyr laughs. “If you’re impressed by those little things, I have some more elaborate ones I can show you.”

  My mouth pops open, and my face flames as he winks at me. The other two are laughing as we make our way out the main door. All other things fly out of my head once they lead me outside the gates, though it could possibly have something to do with all the sexiness surrounding me. The three of them close ranks, blocking my body in with theirs. With each of them touching me, I feel safer than I have in a long time.

  Everyone we come to bows to us as we pass.

  “Guys, I think you need to wear a disguise next time,” I say quietly.

  Zephyr snickers from beside me and Zale states, “They aren’t bowing to us, princess.”

  I try to form coherent sentences after that but fail miserably. It doesn’t take long for us to make it through the small city, and that thought comes as a huge slap in the face. I bet this place was once thriving with life.

  I’m so caught up in despair that I don’t notice where the guys are taking me until it’s too late. We come to a stop right at the barrier of the magical dome. At least, that’s what I’m going to call it.

  “What are we doing here?” I ask.

  Zale turns around and takes the hand that Zephyr hasn’t been holding. “We want you to try something for us.”

  Shaking my head doesn’t stop Zanthus from taking off his necklace and hanging it around my neck. It’s still warm from his body heat. I’ve been so distracted by their bodies and the sadness of walking through the streets that I forgot about the witch’s talismans hanging around their necks.

  “I can’t go out there,” I say, still in shock. My voice drops to a whisper so that only the three of them can hear. “Please, I have the bravery of a chicken nugget. I can’t do this.”

  They stand around me, trying their best not to crack up at my confession until Zale pulls my attention to him. “Rubi, we need you to try. Cecaelia has disappeared and after three days, we still haven’t seen any signs of our returning magic. This is just a theory that Merrick and I have discussed.”

  He touches the necklace hanging at my neck. “This will allow you to breathe underwater, and we will stay at your side just in case our theory doesn’t work. We can jump right back into our little magic bubble.”

  It doesn’t sound so scary when he says it like that. Plus, I did say that I would help them in any way that I could. Boy, am I eating those words now.

  I look into each of their faces and swallow the huge lump in my throat. “Okay.”

  Of course, that's exactly where my bravado ends. My hands slip from theirs, and I let them swing idly between us. Maybe if I get them moving fast enough, they'll propel me forward, and I won't have to think about what I'm about to be doing. Oh, sweet god or goddess of the ocean, please keep me safe. I'd really rather not be crushed by tons of pressure or get eaten by a shark. I think those would probably be two of the worst imaginable deaths at this point in my life. Which, of course, brings me to my next train of thought. If I somehow miraculously survive this little test, I need to do some research on this realm's deities. Can't be pissing off one by praying to the other. Especially if it means the difference between life and death.

  All the while I've been trapped in my own mind, none of the Zs have made a peep. They're graciously allowing me time to make the decision myself. I can't say I'd do the same, were I in their position. If I'd have been trapped against my will for most of my life, I'd probably be shoving myself as hard as I could out of this bubble dome.

  That shatters my wall of hesitation.

  Taking off at a sprint, I don't hear any of them calling me back or telling me to stop, so I'm assuming it's going to be as easy as popping through. And, it is. One second I'm on the side with all of the sexy mer dudes and the next, I'm alone on the other side in pitch-black darkness.

  A protective air bubble surrounds my body but doesn't give me the gift of sight through the nothingness that's around me. The Zs said they'd be here with me to help me find my way, but I'll be damned if I see scale nor hair of them. My heart, already racing from my short run, feels like it's about to pound out of my chest, which simultaneously can't seem to draw in enough air. I try to swim, but it’s completely useless seeing as I’m surrounded by an air bubble. Besides, where would I go? I can’t see a single thing. I could be swimming up or down or right into the maws of a giant sea creature. Between that thought and my imagination, I can already picture the monsters around me.

  Stupid, Murphy. This is why we don't trust people. You're going to die at the bottom of the sea, and no one will ever know what happened. Tears are flowing freely down my face as the sobs rip from my throat. Sounds are muffled inside my little bubble and echo around the tiny space. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I tuck myself into the smallest possible ball. If there's anything out here with me, I need to seem nonthreatening. Plus, I think I'd rather run out of air or drown than be ripped to shreds by some ancient sea monster down here in the dark depths.

  A sensation ripples down the side of my bubble, and a scream horror movie-worthy slips from my throat. I said I'd rather drown, damn it. Why can't I just be given that one last request?

  Another push against my barrier, this time at my back, has me slamming my eyes shut. I don't want to see the creature. It's not necessary for me to know how I'm going to die.

  When the next prod pushes the bubble flush against my skin, a whimper leaves my throat, but I swear to whoever is listening out there that I will find a way to come back and haunt those cruel mermen.

  All of a sudden, my bubble is shoved hard from my left side. I've got to be traveling through the water because I felt the first initial push before my right-side smashes against the barrier.

  The next thing I know, an explosion goes off around me, and my back slams harshly onto what feels like concrete. It stills what little breath I had left in my lungs, but it doesn't halt the tears. Something warm presses against my cheek, and I automatically flinch away.

  "It doesn't make any sense," Merrick says, his voice registering through my haze of panic. "It should've worked. Maybe we missed so
mething significant with the curse. Or, it could be the talisman. There's a chance it got in the way. She may have to go back without it."

  I barely notice Zanthus' growl before my eyes fly open, and I try to crab crawl away from where they're hovering over me. It doesn't get me very far when I realize everyone that we passed on the way here is now standing around us. Some expressions curious or still hopeful, others concerned. At least none of them look my way with the defeat I feel in my heart.

  Turning my attention back to the triplets who are still watching me, I accuse, "You said you would be there with me. You lied. I was alone. It was so dark, and something kept touching my bubble. Why did you leave me---"

  The last of my accusation ends with another sob.

  I distantly hear Merrick telling the crowd to go about their business and to give us space. It wouldn't matter because I can't see through my tear-filled eyes anyway. The three Zs are large blobs as they move slowly toward me.

  "Damselfish," Zale starts, "we didn't leave you. Zeph and I went through the barrier as soon as you did. We had no idea that your running start would propel you so far away from us."

  "What are you talking about?" Zanthus asks in a full growl this time. "How long was she alone?"

  Clearly not talking to me, I leave the others to answer.

  Zephyr takes up the role. "Brother, she was more than ten leagues from the barrier."

  Zanthus curses under his breath right before I feel the same warmth as before on my cheeks. I hiccup, and my cheeks slip between his palms. Large thumbs swipe underneath my eyes in an attempt to stop the waterworks.

  "I'm---" hiccup "sorry."

  "I'm not---" hiccup "normally a crier."

  Whatever I could say next is completely forgotten as Zanthus' lips slant down over mine. The saltiness wets both our lips as he kisses me and makes me forget what I was upset about in the first place. He acts like he doesn't mind the small catches in my throat where I'm still fighting the few leftover hitching sobs. They simply get swallowed by his passion.