Three Rings (The Fairytail Saga)

by S. K Munt

Ivyanne turned and saw that Tristan was struggling to get off the ground. Part of his blonde hair looked matted with blood as well. Ivyanne ran to him, pulling him up, gasping for breath.

  ‘Are you still with us?’ she asked, darting a quick look over his head in Lincoln’s direction, not even bothered to see her fiancé breaking a lip-lock with Grace Londeree with an astonished and guilt-stricken look on his face as the queen nodded with relief and stepped free of them, heading for Ivyanne, her eyes wide with concern. Desperate times called for desperate measures-if Grace had just restored his strength, which she obviously had, Ivyanne could only be grateful to her.

  ‘Sweetie!’ her mother called, lifting her skirts and hurrying over. ‘Are you okay? Is Tristan?’ Her hand was reaching out to Ivyanne, and Ivyanne lifted her own-needing to feel herself in her mothers arms. There were too many people to worry about! Too many places she needed to be at once!

  ‘Mummy-’ Ivyanne sniffled as she felt Tristan sit up beside her. ‘He’s hurt!’

  ‘I’m okay...’ Tristan grunted. As Ivyanne continued to help him up with one hand. ‘She got the back of my head though...where I was injured in the crash...feel a little...’ Tristan staggered, but then looked past her. ‘Ash! Bane! No! Don’t touch him!’

  Ivyanne spun to see Bane struggling to get Ardhi’s flailing hands together behind the pillar as her father leaned forward, holding a vial of box jellyfish poison to Ardhi’s clenched lips with Aubrielle watching closely. But just as Tristan called out, Ardhi’s hand escaped Bane’s clutches, shot forward and clamped onto the front of her father’s shirt, right above his heart.

  ‘You were like a dad to me!’ Ardhi bellowed. ‘How could you turn on me like this? I only ever had her best wishes at heart!’

  Ivyanne screamed, but hers was lost among a sea of many others as the king’s head snapped up to look at the ceiling, his posture rigid, the veins in his neck bulging as a bright purplish green light blossomed at the front of his shirt, coming from Ardhi’s hand.

  ‘Ash!’ Her mothers disembodied scream resonated through Ivyanne’s very being.

  ‘If I can’t have her! None of you will!’ Ardhi raged, retracting his hand and turning to face her as the king collapsed on the ground at his feet. His eyes were glittering black, his face streaked with his own blood as he raised his palm like a baseball player about to pitch. His upraised arm was silhouetted by a bright flash of lightning from outside. ‘Goodbye, my love!’

  Ivyanne’s heart sank as she realized what was about to happen to her. She looked over at her father and dropped her head in a silent prayer. Let them get our bodies to the ocean in time! Was her final wish.

  ⁓

  Tristan saw what was coming and realized at once that if Ivyanne stopped breathing, he’d have to as well.

  ‘Get behind me!’ Tristan roared throwing himself at Ivyanne, knocking her to the ground while simultaneously shielding her from the glowing ball of neon light coming at them. It wasn’t a wall of energy like the last few had been-but a meteor like light-focused and horrifying and coming much to quickly. It felt like his heart would combust from sheer terror. Was his body big enough to block the princess’s?

  ‘Ardhi no!’ Joakim’s shout rose above the din.

  ‘Vana!’ Came Saraya’s horrified shriek seconds later.

  Tristan ducked as a blur of lavender temporarily obscured his view of the snarling madmen ten meters away from them. Vana had launched herself between Ardhi and Tristan, but was now flying backwards through the air at an impossible speed, towards the rear of the building, her levitated body missing them by mere inches as she whipped past.

  No! He thought, whipping around. Not Vana-please god no! There was a catastrophic crashing sound, and Tristan pressed his face against Ivyanne’s, shielding her ears with his hands, blocking her view of what had just transpired.

  And then all there was was screaming. Tristan was on his feet in seconds, everything else forgotten-even Ivyanne- as he raced after the body of the woman who was also his best friend.

  ‘Move!’ He shoved the other mers out of the way of the window desperately, skittering over shards of shattered glass before launching himself over the sill, slicing his hands on fragments still jutting up out of the track. When he landed, his heart and lungs seized as he came to a stop beside Vana Court’s lifeless body in the trampled garden bed outside.

  ⁓

  Ardhi didn’t need to join everybody grouped near the far window to know what he’d just done and how horribly wrong his plan had gone. He didn’t need to touch his face or left arm to know they were broken in many areas, and he didn’t need to scan the room to see if anyone was still coming for him-he’d never been so aware of everything before in his life! From the scalding burn on his palm where the lightning had torn free to the ear-shattering scream he heard emerge from Ivyanne’s lungs-he knew that he’d killed the king and queen, and if he didn’t get out of there in ten seconds, he’d pay for it dearly.

  Ardhi stepped over Ash Court’s sprawled body and hobbled to the window, lifting Sherri’s unconscious figure from the floor where she’d been left for dead and cradling her in his aching arms. He took three, lumbering steps, and then he was outside under the night sky, staggering down the decline of the shadowy hill, his eyes focused on the silvery water beyond the tops of the trees on the dunes, knowing that if he didn’t get them both to the water, they would be at the mercy of the ugliest mob in history. Tears blurred in his eyes, obscuring his vision, as he recalled the instant regret of crushing the heart of the man he worshipped. Raindrops began to fall then, illustrating his misery. Every one of his muscles ached, from his heart to his brain, which couldn’t fully grasp what had happened that evening. All he did know was that he needed to get out of Seaview, but that he’d be back to finish what he’d started soon enough.

  He’d just made Ivyanne Court a queen. But he’d come back to finish what he had started. Of that he was certain. He had nothing left to lose.

  ⁓

  Ivyanne sank down at her mothers side, unable to comprehend that the scorched, broken and bloody body on the ground had been full of life and vitality just seconds before. Her mothers eyes were open but blank, staring at the ceiling and into nothing, a thin, cloudy film covering her bottle green iris’s. A line of blood dribbled from the corner of her lips.

  Ivyanne’s gaze drifted down her mothers neck and to the waist of her dress, taking in the dinner-plate sized scorch mark which stretched from her stomach to the gathered cloth across her bust. Her dress is ruined, Ivyanne thought numbly. She’ll be so mad!

  ‘Did you hear me Ivyanne?’ She felt someone new crouch beside her. Yet another warm hand rested on yet another cold part of her. ‘We have to get them to the water...’

  ‘It’s too late,’ Ivyanne whispered, shaking her head. Every part of her body was shaking as she reached out and touched the blood at the corner of her mother’s open mouth. It was hot-so hot. How could it be lifeless blood? Lifeless blood ought to feel like ice! ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘I know Wahine,’ Bane said softly. ‘But unless you want to have to bury them-’

  Ivyanne’s hart skipped a beat as she realized what she meant. She broke out of her stupor and reached forward, bundling her mother up in her arms. It was strange, how light she felt, and then Ivyanne was suddenly hit by the memory of being carried by her mother as a child, of how warm and safe she’d felt then. How her mother’s scent had been synonymous with laughter and kissed injuries and bed time. Her knees gave and she almost dropped the body in her arms as a scream ripped out of her throat as she realized that she’d never be kissed better again. She’d never be okay again now if she let this moment run its course.

  ‘Wait...no!’ The cry ripped out of Ivyanne’s lungs. ‘She was just coming to cuddle me! She was going to make it better!’ Ivyanne felt scalding hot tears leak down her face. ‘She can’t be gone! She doesn’t need the water!’ Ivyanne buried her face into her mother’s neck. ‘Mum come on! I’m ok
ay! You don’t have to go! Mummy don’t go!’

  ‘Ivyanne!’ A voice called out, one sounding as choked as her own. ‘Honey please...let us do what we can!’

  Ivyanne whirled on Bane. ‘You’re not taking my mother! Or my father! They’re the only ones I have! Where would I get more? You’re not thinking! They can’t be dead! They have decades left-’ Ivyanne was choking on her own tears as she clutched the still-warm, still loving body protectively against her own. She closed her eyes and pleaded with her mother. With sudden clarity, she knew what it was like to be human, that time was not something to be taken for granted. ‘Come on mum, wake up please...please you don’t know how badly I need you to just be okay!’

  ‘Let me take her,’ Tristan’s voice was low. He stood before her, his own beautiful face streaked with dirt and blood with tears, his arms out. ‘I’ll make sure she’s safe, sweetheart.’ His eyes bore into hers. ‘Please...trust me...’

  Ivyanne sobbed and handed her mother over carefully, keeping one hand in her own. Tristan loved Vana too-Tristan would understand. He’d never let anyone act irrationally-if the situation could be fixed-he would be the instigator.

  ‘Here,’ she sniffled. ‘Please..she needs help.’

  ‘I’ve got her...’ Tristan’s face was almost lost under a river of tears. ‘Just follow me.’

  Ivyanne began to walk after Tristan, knowing immediately that they were going to the sea. She squeezed her mothers hand reassuringly, but when Vana didn’t squeeze back, the light of hope in Ivyanne’s heart flickered like a candle flame in a storm. She dropped the hand, which was far colder now, and felt her insides reeling in grief.

  ‘I’m here my love,’ Lincoln whispered in her ear as his warm arms wrapped around her cold and rigid body. ‘You’re not alone.’

  Ivyanne began to sob, for she was alone. More alone than she’d ever been in her life. Didn’t anyone of them realize what this meant? When would anything good matter again when she couldn’t tell them her mum and dad about it? When would hurt ever go away without them assuring that it would? Who would ever again tell her that her life meant more then their own, that she could believe? She’d wanted to become independent of them and now she’d be independent for eternity! Nothing would make this better. Nothing could.

  She was only slightly aware of being scooped up into her fiancé’s arms as he followed Tristan down the hill and to the shore. ‘Ardhi?’ she whispered piteously.

  She felt the arms tense around her. When Lincoln said nothing more, Ivyanne began to cry for real. It still wasn’t over.

  31.

  Lincoln had never felt so powerless as when he watched Ivyanne tremble in the churning black water and sob broken-heartedly as the newly turned dolphins that had been her parents shot off across the surface of the water. They’d made it with probably seconds to spare. Lincoln was grateful for that, if nothing else. It had been a miracle to witness.

  ‘When things feel this awful…’ she mused to the water, barely audible. ‘Mum usually wakes me up and holds me until the hurt goes away. But that’s not going to happen, is it?’ She asked of no one. And no one replied. Lincoln desperately wiped the tears falling down his cheeks. Her pain was his. He suddenly was overcome with the urge to turn his father, to prevent ever having to suffer through it firsthand.

  After ten minutes of silence, Ivyanne turned around. Her face was half- illuminated in moonlight, the shadow’s between her brows and at the corner of her lips unmistakable.

  ‘They’re gone,’ she said woodenly. ‘We’ll have a proper memorial for them tomorrow, when Tristan’s was supposed to take place.’

  Saraya rushed forward, churning up a wake with her long, moon-bleached skirt. She was clutching something in her hands. ‘Ivyanne,’ she said solemnly, sniffling. ‘I know this is the last thing you want to be thinking about...but this is yours, now.’ She dropped her head slightly and presented the crown she must have plucked from Vana’s hair to Ivyanne. ‘...Your majesty.’

  Lincoln’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the crestfallen look on Ivyanne’s face as she took the ancient crown with trembling hands. He hadn’t actually computed the fact that Vana’s death equalled the beginning of Ivyanne’s sovereignty. It was an overwhelming thought-he’d thought they had half a century together before having to worry about such things. He looked around him, shocked to see every mer bowing slightly, their tears subsiding as they acknowledged their new ruler. Even Tristan was down. Lincoln hesitated, then lowered his own head, a sick feeling creeping over him as Ivyanne was once again thrust into another world he wasn’t a part of.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘Yes I suppose it is....’

  When Lincoln looked up, the crown was balanced on Ivyanne’s head, sparkling as her dress did in the moonlight. She was ethereal.

  ‘Well...I suppose it’s up to me to keep life going.’ She shook her head forlornly, thinking it over before lifting her face. ‘Everybody-go back to your rooms and lock your doors tight. No one stays alone.’ She glanced to her left. ‘Adele? You’ll come back to Bracken Island with myself and Saraya. As will you Lincoln, and you Tristan. Not only are we safer together-but everyone else will be safer removed from us.’

  Lincoln swallowed, knowing he wouldn’t sleep that night. Thoughts of his own mother were already floating unwelcome to the surface. He knew how Ivyanne felt in that respect, and yet to lose both in one split second...he shuddered.

  ‘Ardhi Kayu-Api is a dead man,’ Ivyanne proclaimed, her voice soft but their vindication bellowing. quietly. ‘I’m just going to assume that no one questions that fact.’

  Lincoln wanted to look at the Kayu-Api’s, but knew that there were plenty others already doing that so he restrained himself.

  ‘A knighthood-for whoever brings him down.’

  Tristan’s head snapped up. ‘A knighthood?’ he repeated. ‘Ivyanne, that hasn’t been done for-’

  ‘Seven hundred years. I’m aware. But dealing with this murderous traitor has become the kingdom’s only concern. I’ll do it myself, if I can.’

  ‘I’ll take him out Ivyanne-there won’t be any need for you to endanger yourself.’ Tristan vowed quietly, wiping at the silver streaks of tears glistening on his own moon-lit cheeks.

  Ivyanne raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re probably right. In fact, were it not for me, you’d have taken him out tonight.’

  ‘If not for my love for you.’ Tristan agreed. ‘Which overshadows every other priority. Ivyanne...I’m so sorry. I feel like I’ve failed you by letting him out of my grasp.’

  She reached over and lifted his chin, eyes glowing. ‘You couldn’t have aided me more.’

  Lincoln felt a flash of envy. He wanted to be the one Ivyanne assumed would fix everything. He wanted to be the man she plotted with and cowered behind-not thrust herself in front of. Lincoln set his jaw in grim determination. If he wanted to feel like he belonged, then it was time to get his name in the history books. Knight first, then king. Then happy, if that was still a possibility.

  Her happiness first. Lincoln thought forcibly. Then mine. That’s the only way this is going to work. He stepped up to his queen and scooped her back into his arms before Tristan could get the chance.

  ‘Come on your majesty,’ he said softly. ‘Let’s get you somewhere safe.’

  Ivyanne rested her cheek against his and sighed. ‘Lead the way,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not ready to do it yet.’

  Lincoln was more than happy to oblige.

  ⁓

  Ivyanne helped the other mers quickly clean the function room-mopping up the spilled blood, sweeping up the broken glass, refusing to rest as so many appealed to her to do. With so many working together, it was done in ten minutes, and Lincoln had been able to go release his father and the human guests he’d locked in the wine cellar, explaining his lateness by saying that the party had been crashed by some drunken surfers who had spoiled the festivities, taking Saraya and Aubrielle with him to sing them into a pliable mental
state. They were closely enough related to Anna L’Court for their voices to still be effective.

  Apparently, the human hadn’t even noticed. Chase Grey had gotten them to sample twelve different bottles of red in the hour or so they’d been locked up-and all of them-including Ilsa and Livia-were too sloshed to even notice the subdued atmosphere when they returned.

  Lincoln and Tristan tried to hold her a few times-to commiserate with her, but Ivyanne had brushed them aside. She’d fallen apart in the initial moments after her parents death-and she couldn’t afford to let that happen again in front of other people. She needed to appear strong and capable- and she certainly couldn’t expect either man to fill the void her parents had left behind them. It wouldn’t work that way-she had a kingdom to run now, and they were her subjects. They needed her protection and guidance-not the other way around. After all, hadn’t she been born to do this?

  She knew both boys were hurt when she turned out of their arms, but if her gut feeling was right-they were both in for a world of hurt for some time. No need to lull either into a false sense of security.

  When the party was over, Lincoln left the bar as it was, locked it up and they all piled into the speedboat together, which her mother and father had driven to the party. The journey to Bracken was a silent one, as was their homecoming- everybody took turns showering while Tristan guarded the door, and while he showered, Adele watched out for him as Lincoln and Ivyanne dragged every spare mattress into the living room and laid them out together. Safety in numbers.

  Pintang showed up just before bed time, with a heartbroken looking Saraya trailing behind her, sniffling like she’d caught a human cold. Ivyanne suspected that after herself-Tristan and Saraya would take her mother’s death the hardest. It wasn’t as though Tristan had spent the amount of time with Vana as Saraya had-but they’d had some connection, some friendship that resisted the pitfalls of sex and a four hundred year age difference. Only in the mer world was it possible for a man and a woman, lacking a blood relationship or any kind of physical chemistry-to bond so closely.