Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

  Faier smiled, but a shadow of bitterness sharpened its curve. “Atlantis has my loyalty. They claimed me when other cities would not.”

  “Then give Dragao Azul the privilege of being your second city.”

  Faier blinked. Only a few times in mer history had a warrior earned the honor to be a desired citizen in more than his own city. Even in this dangerous time of lowered populations and empty castles, cities preferred to enforce loyalties and not share. They did not adopt other city’s warriors lightly.

  “Thank you,” Faier said, with a note of warning that he was about to deny Elan’s honor.

  “If you do not need this privilege, then keep it for your sons.”

  He blinked again. “Sons…”

  Faier rubbed the harsh scars marring his cheek, ancient puckers like a dry riverbed of past violence. Did he worry a sacred bride would not love to a male with such scars?

  Zara had fallen in love with Elan after a single meeting. They connected in their souls. Faier should not fear. He would find a strong, fierce, loving female.

  “Thank you,” Faier said again to Elan, focusing on the present, and completed his farewells.

  Elan turned to seek Zara. Instead, he was ambushed by elders.

  They confirmed what Orol had already shared. After Elan had escaped the Battle for Atlantis, Iner had taken charge. All-Council Adviser Creo’s final commands had been to avenge his death by destroying the cities of the betrayers — Dragao Azul, original home of Elan, Kadir, and Soren, and Sireno, original home of Torun. Regrouping with the remaining armies, Iner had dispatched two units to Sireno and Commander Haren’s and Faro’s units to Dragao Azul.

  Had Elan hesitated even a day in Dragao Azul, the army would have been upon him and the city might have been quickly wiped out. Instead, Iner’s grand scheme delayed the city’s punishment until he could assemble “all” of the betrayers — primarily Elan, Zain, and Zara.

  “Then we will prepare for a possible return attack once Iner recovers,” Elan decided.

  “What about deserters?” an elder asked.

  “Accept them. Any warrior who comes to his senses about the All-Council is welcome. We will help him return to his home city wherever it is.”

  The elders hummed with dissent. “We did not accept deserters before.”

  “We were a ‘faithful’ city before. Now we are anathema.”

  The elders flinched. “Perhaps if we sent a delegation to the All-Council explaining the misunderstanding…”

  “Or we could cut down our Life Tree ourselves,” Dosan piped up. “Then we would be in compliance.”

  The elders glared at him.

  “Dosan is correct,” Elan said, forestalling an argument. The sapphire warrior was too outspoken. “For now, we will neither antagonize the All-Council nor will we work with them. They may still seek to wipe us out.”

  The elders paled. “So extreme.”

  “The king would desire we take the middle ground. He may disagree once he has healed.”

  Barely pacified, the elders moved off.

  Zara and Zain remained near the king, and now it looked as though he’d gathered enough strength to engage in conversation.

  “Thank you for inviting me to stay,” Zara said shortly to the king, her back to Elan, so she was not aware of his approach. “Although you have no say over where I go or what I do. I hope you realize that.”

  The king grimaced. “Stay. The All-Council will return.”

  So, the king shared Elan’s perspective. He felt calmer that he had directed the elders correctly.

  “I’ll do my best,” she replied breezily.

  He winced again. “…beg you…”

  “No need for begging. I have no interest in watching my son’s city get destroyed. Now, a year ago, I would have vowed my eternal protection, no questions asked. But you lost my loyalty when you kicked me out and deprived me of my family. I reforged my life on the surface. You’re second place.”

  Elan’s chest squeezed.

  “You’re hurt so I don’t want to upset you,” she told the king in her blunt way. “I’m going to stick around until everyone’s back on their feet. Er, fins. But then I need to check on my sister. She’s going through a lawsuit with my parents right now, and I promised my support. Also, I need to update the other brides about what happened. I kind of left it on a cliff-hanger. They need to know that if they were pushed out of their cities, they have options. It’s okay to be royally angry. And it’s okay to fight.”

  “…need fight…” the king agreed shakily.

  The healer tried to shush them and end the conversation. “The king agrees many other cities will need queens to help their fight.”

  “I understood what he meant,” she returned tartly, refusing to be hushed or moved along. “I want to be sure everyone understands what I mean.”

  Elan smiled behind her in silent solidarity.

  She glowed as brightly as the Life Tree, pure as a sun, and right now, her words were law.

  “I am going to stay here,” she told the king. “I am going to protect the Life Tree and this city because it is my husband’s and my son’s. But I am not going to follow your stupid rules, and you aren’t going to force me.”

  The healer vibrated a protest.

  Elan lifted his hand in warning. Zara’s words were for the king and interrupting her was rude.

  The healer saw Elan’s movement and fell silent.

  “No sequestering me inside my husband’s castle, no refusing to let me see or speak with anyone but my husband, no restrictions on when I leave the city or come back.” She ticked off the rules for the king with her fingers. “I’m going to go where I want, when I want, with whoever I want, and you’re going to wish me to have a nice day. Otherwise, I’m leaving and taking my husband and son with me. Forever. Got it?”

  The king met her eye. Although his were still red with broken vessels, the gaze that held hers remained authoritative. “I understand.”

  She nodded and rose from the dais, her magenta plastic fins clinking against the precious Sea Opals. Zain kicked off and floated up with her as well. They were truly in sync.

  “Rest and heal quickly,” she said. “You look terrible.”

  An ironic smile twisted the king’s split lips. Surprise at being spoken to as a warrior, and then acceptance. Zara was truly a fighter.

  She turned on Elan and her gaze darkened. “There you are. We have to talk.”

  And he knew that just because she’d promised the king to remain in the city until he healed did not mean she would be spending that time in Elan’s arms where he most needed her.

  26

  Zara had waited her turn to be alone with Elan. Finally, he had come to her. She had things to say and now was the time to say them.

  But before they traveled more than a few strokes beyond the Life Tree dais, a group of warriors and a separate group of elders descended on Elan with emergencies only he could resolve.

  She bided her time kicking around the central castles with Zain. He was so cute, giggly, and open-hearted. The warriors who passed him softened and smiled, which went a long way to endearing them to her. Sure, they’d saved her so she could protect their Life Tree, but most of them had refused to acknowledge her existence last time she was here — except at the end, when they were all too eager to get rid of her. So, to say she had trust issues with them was putting it mildly.

  Apparently Dragao Azul had to take back and rebuild the city, which had been under hostile rule the entire time Elan had been with her on the surface with her. Warriors had fought back and been forced to flee, and they were already low on population from the lowered birthrates across several generations.

  Elan led them without showing any of the resentment that Zara would have felt — that she continued to feel — as he slowly distributed responsibilities.

  “I am going to rest with my queen,” Elan told the final warriors just outside his castle. “Dosan is my second. Address any questions
to him.”

  “Understood!” The last of the warriors nodded at Dosan

  Dosan looked surprised. Zara got the idea that he was lingering around Elan because he wanted to ask questions, not because he wanted to be promoted. But he straightened and accepted the instant promotion. “I will serve you with honor.”

  Elan noted his reaction. “I am guessing you were not promoted in my absence.”

  Dosan grimaced, glanced at Zara, and away. He and his partner, Uvim, had been part of the trio dragging her to the surface a year ago. Unlike bitter, argumentative Soren, they had completed the task looking green the whole time, like they felt as sick as she did, and wanted to throw up.

  She’d still hated them, but since they’d been the first warriors to rally to her side during the recent fight, it wouldn’t be as hard to earn her forgiveness.

  “No, I did not feel worthy,” Dosan said. “The First Lieutenant was our last trainee. He has been missing since the army arrived.”

  Both Dosan and Uvim clenched a fist over their hearts.

  Some sort of honor-gesture?

  Elan returned it. “Find his body if you can. He was too young. I will hold out the hope he escaped.”

  Dosan rolled his lips. Cautioning words vibrated in his chest. “If he is still alive, he will feel cowardly that he did not join in the battle to free Dragao Azul.”

  “Convince him to return. We need all good warriors, and it is possible to make a dire mistake but recover an honorable path.”

  Dosan nodded with feeling as if Elan had spoken straight to his own heart. The sapphire warrior bid farewell to him and Zara.

  But before Elan had done more than turn toward Zara, another group of elders descended.

  Elan’s shoulders sagged in exhaustion. He held his hands up in surrender. “Dosan is my second. Direct your questions to him.”

  But that was taken as an invitation. They unleashed question after question upon him. And he, responsible as ever, fielded every one.

  Zain yawned and fussed. He was probably hungry. Zara was, too.

  “Dosan can answer that question,” Elan was saying in response to one elder.

  “But what about the original First Lieutenant?” the same elder demanded anxiously. “If he is dead, we must hold the farewell ceremony.”

  “We will decide once Dosan has gathered more information about his fate,” Elan said firmly.

  “Is he, then, alive?”

  Elan’s shoulders rose and fell as though he wanted to let out an exasperated sigh. His tone remained calm and direct. He was her honorable, but world-weary, knight. “Direct that question, and all others, to Dosan.”

  “But Elan—”

  Zara snapped. “Is your hearing bad? He said to go ask Dosan.”

  The elders stared at her, disgruntled and affronted.

  “We’re all exhausted. Keeping Zain out here any longer is child abuse.”

  One elder harrumphed. “Elan, if your bride needs rest, she may take your young fry while you, as First Lieutenant, remain.”

  Elan’s lips twisted to the side. He glanced at Zara in concern.

  His concern was completely correct. If she wasn’t so darned tired, she’d blast these insufferable elders to a crisp. Instead, she kept her reprimand short and sweet.

  “Two mistakes.”

  The elder blinked. “What?”

  “You just made two mistakes. First,” she held up one finger, “you need to stop disrespecting Elan.”

  He gasped. “You do not comprehend your insult.”

  “On the contrary. He told you to go ask Dosan. Ignoring that harasses him and disrespects his orders. Just because you bossed him around for a year doesn’t mean you can continue. As First Lieutenant you owe him your respect.”

  All the elders gaped at her. The one who’d spoken out reddened.

  “Second,” she held up her other finger, “I’m not Elan’s bride. I’m Dragao Azul’s queen. So you can turn right around and swim out of my sight before I decide the only place we can get some peace and quiet is on the surface. Because believe me, I’ll be taking my oh-so-spiffy queen powers and your First Lieutenant with me. Understand?”

  The elders’ shock went on for several long moments. Finally, as though their brains couldn’t process what she’d just said, they looked to Elan.

  His lips twitched hard. But he maintained a serious mien. “You heard your queen.”

  With shock and clear resentment, the elders left.

  She could handle their resentment. Change didn’t happen overnight, and she didn’t really care what they thought of her. However she offended their sense of bride decorum, they’d get over it in the next weeks when she offended them a whole lot more.

  “Thank you,” Elan said softly.

  She kicked to his side. “You’re not angry?”

  “I was under twisted orders for so long I forgot the respect they used to have for me. Perhaps they did too.” He darkened. “Or perhaps they do not believe I am worthy.”

  “This city wouldn’t exist without you. You’re more than worthy.”

  He lightened. Hope seemed nearer for him now. “Again, thank you.”

  “Sure.” She twined their fingers.

  His were rough from the battle, newly nicked and scarred. That had to hurt. But he squeezed her back as if only her touch mattered.

  Elan placed his palm on the curved outer wall. The castle entrance unfurled like a portal into the long tunnel. The aquamarine-tinted green walls led into a grand courtyard.

  The castle was hollow. Ancient rooms were carved into its thick walls, each room like the cell of a plant, carved with windows and doorways.

  On the floor, thick loam was planted with vibrant sea vegetables, a rich crop intended to feed a much larger population than just three. She could see already several vegetables she’d enjoyed — coffee-flavored beans, stalks that tasted like spaghetti with red sauce, creamy rhizomes, and sweet leaves.

  “This garden has been neglected.” Worry lined Elan’s eyes. “Many crops must be harvested.”

  After everything that had happened today, was he seriously worried about gardening?

  Zain kicked directly for the sweet leaves.

  Elan flew after him. “Do not fill up on the sweet leaves. Consume a balanced portion.”

  Ha, he sounded just like a father.

  Her belly growled.

  She descended, removed her plastic fins, stretched her tired human toes, and joined their harvesting. They settled in to eat.

  Elan’s castle octopus slunk out of a hidey hole, rubbery skin chameleon green, eight legs curling in greeting.

  “Long time no see,” she told him, and handed over his favorite treat — a scuttling crab.

  The octopus carried the crab to his beak and crunched. Several long arms stroked her with thanks, and his skin changed to warm brown and then peaceful white.

  They had been solitary companions while Elan had been out on duty. No more! Those days were behind her. Now, Zara would accompany Elan or go out by herself if she wanted.

  Still, the octopus would always keep a special place in her heart.

  Elan watched her. “Did you know the other queens named their house guardians?”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “Unusual sounds: Lassie, Benji, and Scooby.”

  “I sense a pattern.”

  “Do you? I cannot.”

  No, she supposed he wouldn’t.

  Her octopus was a bit of a mischievous chameleon, and he had kept her company on many long, boring nights. “Maybe I’ll call ours ‘Wishbone.’”

  Zain giggled and kicked for the octopus.

  “Respect Wishbone,” Elan said, adopting Zara’s name immediately for the octopus. He split rhizomes to expose the inner fruit. “Do not pull on any arms.”

  The octopus scooted away, far too wily for a one-year-old. They played hide-and-seek in the overgrown gardens, leaving Elan and Zara to a moment of peace.

  And it was peaceful. The
rooms towered to the ceiling, just as she remembered. She had explored all the nooks and crannies, soaking in the history of the castle and memorizing its possessions, losing herself in winding passages and secret cupboards. Although completely enclosed on the bottom of the sea, the walls glowed aquamarine-tinted green, and the water inside felt vibrant, comfortable, and homey.

  This was why she had been willing, once, to stay forever. Being confined was boring, but here, in Elan’s castle, was inescapably beauty.

  “What is it you wished to say?” Elan’s chest vibrations sounded casual, but the lines around his eyes suggested the question was not.

  Okay, time to get it over with.

  She set aside her unfinished meal and faced him with the truth he must hear. “You betrayed me.”

  27

  He didn’t even blink. “I apologize.”

  Wait. He apologized? Huh.

  Zara struggled for the correct response. “I expected more resistance.”

  “On the surface, I told you that you had no power. That was a lie. I intended to save your life, but deprived you of your right to fight.”

  That was exactly what she needed to hear. She just wasn’t ready to hear it like this. “How can I believe you?”

  He set aside his meal and floated closer. Knitting their fingers together, he stroked her knuckles with the sensuous, flat side of his thumb.

  She shivered with awareness.

  “Zara, you know now the power is already in you.”

  “It always was.”

  “Yes, and it emerged fully at the Life Tree.”

  “And on the surface,” she corrected.

  He frowned.

  “When we were attacked, I shielded you from the dagger.”

  He tilted his head.

  Her frustration wriggled. “The one guy was going to stab you with his trident, and you dodged, and then he tried to stab you with his dagger, and I protected you, but not hard enough, and so the dagger glanced off my shield and sliced your arm.”

  His brows cleared. He remembered.

  “I thought, ‘I did it!’ and I was going to do a lot more, but a second later, you said to stop because I didn’t have any power. And so I lost it.”