Varia held her breath as she slinked away stealthily, scarcely stirring the waters as she moved through them. She wormed her way between the waves like she was parting the panels of a silk curtain, barely allowing the fabric to flutter in her wake. She had learned from watching Glais. When the head of the old man turned in her direction, she bolted down the corridor, stroking one arm before the other briskly. When she came to the end of the tunnel, she found a pile of rocks blocking the entrance to Elandria’s chamber. Frowning, she began to lift the rocks and shove them aside, grateful for the buoyancy provided by the water. When there was enough room to slip her body through the opening, she dove forward into the dimly lit room.
A tiny figure was slumped on the floor, weakly staring up at her from vacant eyes. The woman seemed disoriented and it took her a moment to process Varia’s identity. Once understanding dawned on her, she shakily rose to her feet and pushed herself off the ground, swimming forward to throw her arms around the young girl’s neck. Varia was startled to notice that Elandria had lost a significant amount of weight—her once full and radiant face had sunken to reveal somber cheekbones. She was crying as she hugged her niece. The young girl felt an immediate shadow of anxious concern fill her gut. She began to pull her aunt toward the exit.
“Forget the Sisters of Sedna,” Varia told her angrily. “You have to come home, Auntie.”
“I can’t,” Elandria signed brokenly. “If I leave, Mother Melusina will cause a commotion. She threatens to take Aazuria’s life away again.”
“That’s whaleshit,” Varia responded. “Aunt Sio already proved that it was science that brought her back to life. She was able to recreate the results in the twohorn sculpin fish. She published articles in a few scientific journals—they were very interesting, although I didn’t understand half of what she wrote. Apparently Princess Yamako’s nanotechnology was critical too. So you really don’t have to stay…”
Elandria gripped Varia’s hands tightly as she responded by mouthing the words. “We cannot underestimate the Sisters of Sedna. Oh, Varia, it is so good to see you! You sprout more each time I lay eyes on you, like a little magic beanstalk.”
“Why were you locked in this room?” Varia demanded, gazing at the pile of rocks at the cave entrance. “What’s going on here?”
“Sometimes she traps me in a tight spot and makes me fight for my life,” Elandria explained. “She had those boulders placed at the entryway and said that unless I could smash them with only my voice, I would starve to death in here. It’s been a week.”
Varia’s jaw grew slack. She noticed that her aunt’s fingernails were bruised and bloody. She glanced over at the pile of rocks and realized—to her horror—that Elandria had been trying to claw her way out of this cave for days. There were skins filled with drinking water in the cave, but not a morsel of food. “You haven’t eaten in a week? Auntie Elan! She’s torturing you! You don’t deserve this kind of treatment. You have to quit this nonsense and come home.”
Elandria shook her head. “Darling, thank you for coming to my rescue, but I must keep pressing on. I fear the wrath of Mother Melusina far more than I fear death or starvation. You are a sight for sore eyes, and I would wish nothing more than to go home—but I am in too deep. I must keep trying to learn all the things she wants to teach me. I must not question her methods. I have seen things, Varia. Things I cannot explain. The wise thing to do would be to continue facing the uncomfortable unknown, not to run away from what unsettles me. Knowledge comes only from discomfort—remember that.”
Nodding slowly, the young girl allowed her hands to fall to her sides. In her opinion, nearly dying of starvation while locked in a small cavern was slightly more than just uncomfortable. Varia had once been a prisoner too, but even their mortal enemy had not been so inhumane! She could not force Elandria to come with her, but once she told her father and mother of these living conditions, she was sure that they would overturn hell in order to save her aunt.
As though she had read Varia’s mind, Elandria began signing desperately. “Please don’t tell my sister or my—her husband,” she said, feeling a blush of shame creep into her cheeks at her mistaken hand signal. “I must go through this, Varia. I deserve to experience some agony—a little bit of suffering can be good for the soul. I was born a princess, and I have never known true hunger before these trials. It will make me a better person in the end.”
Although the words were wise, they still made Varia angry. The young girl began to swim back and forth in the room, the submerged equivalent of pacing. She did not know what to do.
“I’ve been having hallucinations,” Elandria admitted as she backed away cautiously, putting her body against the cave wall, “but you’re not a hallucination, are you?”
“No,” Varia responded miserably. She wished she had brought some food with her to give to the delirious woman. “I’m your niece, and we should get out of this place.”
“I’ve been hearing my father’s voice,” Elandria admitted. “I have been seeing his face in my nightmares, and I wake up and feel his hands on me. All over me. I have nothing in my stomach to spill, but sometimes I vomit anyway.”
Varia stood stock-still in silence. She did not think that the woman would have shared such intimate details if she had been fully composed. Her mother had told her many things about King Kyrosed, but had never mentioned this.
“I think that’s what I’m supposed to see,” Elandria whispered, and Varia could barely read the subtle movements of her lips. “The hunger makes me remember the worst moments of my childhood. The original hurts that made me terrified and timid. I think I’m supposed to face my demons so that I can finally be a worthy person. So that I can be more like my sister.”
“It’s probably just drugs that Mother Melusina put in the water,” Varia explained. “Grandma says that the priestess is known for her use of hallucinogens—that could also explain why you threw up.”
“No. It’s what I deserve. It’s what I need.”
Varia sighed in pity for the poor woman. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a few narrow, sealed cylinders. “My father kept writing you letters.”
Elandria pounced on the letters though they were a feast of lobster and caviar. She ripped them from Varia’s hands and grasped them against her chest, sobbing visibly. Her cries were so loud that Varia could even hear her muffled sobs in the water and feel the low rumble of her despair vibrating in the water. Her heart broke for her aunt. She carefully extended a hand to gently touch the woman’s back.
The small woman responded by violently hugging Varia and pressing a kiss against her cheek. “You’re an angel,” she whispered thankfully, pulling away to tear open one of the cylindrical envelopes. With sore, swollen fingers, she withdrew the plastic paper that was covered in waterproof ink. Her eyes began to dance hungrily across the page, soaking in the words with an insatiable greed.
It was striking to Varia that the woman should react this way over a piece of paper when she had not eaten in a week.
The young girl began to wonder if there was more worth to her father’s words than she had given him credit for, especially if he could elicit such passionate feeling from Elandria. She knew that her mother had felt the same way once, and was intentionally cold and withdrawn now for the sake of self-protection. Perhaps Varia was too harsh on the poor man—she made a mental note to consider listening to him more often. He was right about A Clockwork Orange. It had given her some pretty gruesome nightmares and she was not sure she would approve of her own kids reading such material at fourteen. She could understand his desire to preserve her innocence and protect her.
He was a good man. It was thoughtful of him to send these letters to Elandria and let her know that she was loved and remembered. Sedna knows that she needs it now, more than ever, Varia thought to herself while biting her lip.
Elandria suddenly noticed that her niece was carefully watching her read and she pressed the paper to her lips in fear. She grabbed th
e girl’s arm and ushered her to the exit of the small chamber. “Please tell him that he mustn’t ever write me again. Never. It is forbidden.”
“But Auntie Elan, you…”
“Please, Varia. Please.” Elandria’s eyes were frantic. “Tell him that I have moved on. Tell him that I don’t even remember him. Tell him his words are wasted on me, and that I tossed his letters into the trash.”
Varia stared blankly in confusion.
“Certainly don’t tell him that I memorized every word. Certainly don’t tell him that I can’t sleep without him beside me. Don’t tell him that it’s physically killing me to be away from him. He can’t know these things. Do you understand?”
After remaining frozen for several seconds, the young girl nodded sadly. “Should I bring you some food, Auntie?”
“No.” Elandria hugged the letters against her as though they were more valuable than gold. “I don’t need food anymore.”
Against her better judgment, Varia forced herself to climb back through the narrow opening in the cave barricade. With great exertion, she moved to return the rocks that had trapped her aunt inside the makeshift prison. Once she had finished piling up the boulders, she stared at her handiwork with discomfort. Feeling drained, she allowed herself to move through the water to take a seat on the giant pile of rocks. She sat there in consternation for several minutes, thinking about her aunt’s plight. She thought about her mother, and was not sure what she should do.
If that’s what love is all about, she thought to herself, I want no part of that madness.
As she sat on the pile of rocks, she could not help wondering, in the furthest reaches of her mind, whether it was already too late.
“She said what?” Naclana asked with a scowl.
“A graveyard of bodies,” Aazuria repeated, collapsing in her chair. She placed her elbow on the armrest, and allowed her chin to fall against the back of her hand. “Seas running black with blood.”
“Typical,” Trevain mumbled in frustration. “You want to know the problem with Mother Melusina? She’s always correct.”
“It’s called faith, my friend,” Naclana explained dryly. “You should try it some time.”
“Try what, Naclana? Dancing naked under the moon for some ancient ritual? I’m not the religious type.” Trevain had crossed his arms, and now strummed his fingers on his arm. “I think Zuri should go to the meeting.”
“Of course, you would still be skeptical after all you’ve witnessed,” Naclana said with a roll of his eyes.
“I just don’t understand Melusina’s methods. It just seems extraordinary and unbelievable to me that one person could know so much without any sources of information. It just seems—”
Naclana raised an eyebrow. “She was good enough for you when you were desperate. You got down on your knees when you wanted—”
“Boys!” Aazuria groaned. “Focus please. What should I do? I can’t blow off the CIA, can I?”
“Highly unadvisable,” said a voice from the back of the room.
Aazuria rose to her feet, exhaling in a rush of relief. “Vachlan, thank Sedna! What are you doing here?”
“Viso said you might need some help, so I crossed the continent.” The dark-haired man gave them all a smile. “I had business in the area anyway—I’m looking to get some pygmy killer whales for the twins.”
“Killer whales?” Naclana said with worry. “Are you sure General Ramaris would approve of such a gift?”
“I know what you’re thinking, buddy. Orcas are such calm and friendly creatures, and hardly suitable for my children. But I can assure you that these pygmies are actually a vicious and intelligent breed of dolphin known to be far more aggressive and bloodthirsty than killer whales.” Vachlan nodded in self-satisfaction. “She’ll definitely approve!”
“Maybe it’s better that I didn’t grow up with a grandfather,” Trevain mused to himself.
“Vachlan,” Aazuria said uneasily. “I need your advice badly, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be seen in Romanova. You’re under investigation by the CIA.”
“Am I now?” he said with a chuckle. “Could be worse.”
“You should probably take this a little more seriously,” Trevain said in a low voice. “Not only have they re-opened the investigation into Landou, but they mentioned war crimes.”
Vachlan frowned. “Then why are they bothering Queen Aazuria? If they are interested in my personal extracurricular activities, let them deal directly with me. Don’t worry—I will clear this up pronto.”
“Are you sure?” Aazuria asked, moving across the room to observe his facial expressions. “Vachlan, I couldn’t allow anything to happen to you…”
“Hey,” Vachlan said with amusement. “Question! Who would you rather be locked in a room with: the CIA or a pissed-off Visola?”
Everyone laughed in response.
Vachlan grinned, nodding in acknowledgement of their understanding. “This will probably be the most pleasant and low-stakes Sunday brunch I’ve had in a while. I assume there will be refreshments? I would hate to have flown all this way and not be greeted with at least a cheese plate. Maybe some hors d’oeuvres—I could go for some of those lovely mini quiches.”
Aazuria felt the tension easing out of her shoulders. Vachlan had a way of making grim situations seem manageable. He was the rare type of man, who—when he said he would take care of a problem—one actually believed. It was impossible not to believe his words when he had proven them time and again.
Reaching out, Aazuria placed a hand on his shoulder gratefully. “Thank you, brother.”
“The honor is mine, Queen Z,” he said with a tiny bow, “but there is something you can do for me as well.”
“Anything you need, Vachlan.”
“Viso would never tell you this, but she really wants to go home. She misses her sister and the grandkids. She misses you.”
“I know. Maybe after we’ve sorted everything out…” Aazuria began.
Vachlan shook his head. “No, Zuri. Listen to me, because I offer good advice. It’s what I do. You really need to take a moment for yourself and—”
“Relax? Please don’t tell me to relax.”
“I wasn’t going to. Is that what everyone is saying? See, that’s poor advice. Here’s mine: You need to stop. Completely and absolutely stop, Aazuria! You’ve set the wheels in motion and they’ll keep turning. But you need to quit forcing every tiny aspect of Oceanus to constantly improve. Just stop! Let the sea-dwellers fix themselves! We gave them money, labor, and guidance aplenty. You have already put the world back together. It’s time to work on putting your family back together.”
Aazuria turned away from him shamefully. “I suppose if everyone keeps saying the same thing to me, I should follow instructions.”
“I’m not telling you the same thing as everyone else,” Vachlan pointed out. “I’m not talking about the core nucleus of your home. I’m telling you that you need to put your entire family back together—you’ve sent everyone all over the globe! Visola and Sionna and their kids need to be here in Adlivun, hanging out with Varia and Glais. What about Callder and Brynne? Do they even like it in Atlantis? Their daughter, Kolora, doesn’t even have the ability to breathe underwater. It’s difficult for her to make new friends in the Mediterranean because they are elitist pricks who call her ‘impure.’ It’s not a good environment for a young girl. Kaito isn’t getting along any better in Japan. Adlivun has been all he’s ever known. You need to get everyone home.”
She nodded, somewhat surprised at Vachlan’s sensitivity to the domestic situation.
“You’re the matriarch of this family, Aazuria. Don’t split us up and weaken us. Not only is it strategically safer for us all to be together, but it is more enriching and emotionally uplifting. We all need that.”
“I’ll do as you wish,” she told him softly.
He smiled. “Great! I’ll pick up a few other gifts for the other kids while I’m at my exotic pets deal
er. Maybe Varia would like a walrus or sea lion?”
“Varia has the proclivities of an old woman. I think she would prefer your guidance in the theatre more than anything,” Aazuria admitted.
“That goes without saying. Kid’s a great actress, some real potential there.”
The small talk continued until it was time for Vachlan to leave for the CIA meeting. He decided to make a pit-stop to the armory to don full ceremonial Adluvian garb, complete with medals and fancy shoulder tassels called epaulettes. He considered it of some importance to make an impression at this meeting.
“So it seems that you have no excuse to get out of our therapy session today,” Trevain reminded his wife smugly.
“Drat,” she mumbled. “I had forgotten.”
Chapter 5: Strictly Confidential Conversations
Aazuria was impressed by the warm and firm handshake of the psychiatrist. Even though the doctor was trained in healing the mind, somehow even his touch was comforting to her nerves. She immediately wanted to like the man, even though she could not allow herself to immediately like anyone. Trusting her intuition was a luxury she could not afford; she needed to be extremely cautious about who she allowed into her world. She watched as the doctor also shook Trevain’s hand.
“I’m Dr. Rosenberg,” said the man with frizzy blonde hair. He wore glasses and a navy blue sweater vest. “I want you both to know that I’m here to listen and not to judge. This is a safe space, and anything you share will be strictly confidential. I have been asked to come here by Dr. Sionna Ramaris—it was a great honor to receive her call as I’m a huge fan of her work. I’ve known her for many years, but we only recently reconnected at a conference in Vienna last June. We’ve kept in touch since then. Remarkable woman, no?”
“She really is,” Aazuria answered. “She has taken care of my family for nearly five centuries. No offence, but I’m not sure why she can’t just do this herself.”
Tides of Tranquility Page 5