Waterfell

by Amalie Howard

  As we’re wrapping up our Aquarathi study session Sunday night, Soren shoots a censorious look across the table to note my wandering attention. Flushing, I stare at the scroll she has given me to study. Made from a superthin gellike material, it details the history of my people and the hierarchy of all the courts. With a finger, I trace my family tree back several generations to when it was the Gold Court. Nearly five hundred years ago, my great-grandfather won the challenge for rule against the Sapphire Court because the ruling Emerald Court had had no heir. For the past half a century, the Gold Court has been the High Court...a coveted rule that I almost handed over to Ehmora.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I tell Soren.

  She takes the scroll and proceeds to quiz me on the political structure of my kingdom. I answer each question in succession, watching as she makes little notes on a piece of paper. As much as Echlios is my trainer and protector, Soren’s job is to make sure I’m appropriately groomed to rule. Which means studying endless historical scrolls and being tested to no end on said scrolls. On top of that, I’m officially enrolled in the Soren princess etiquette boot camp, where I learn the art of how to enter a room, how to entertain dignitaries, how to be graceful and how to do all manner of useless things.

  “Why do I have to learn all this stuff?” I asked Soren once.

  “When you are queen, you will be required to act like one, and it is my job to ensure that you do so.”

  “What if...I’m not good enough?”

  “On the outside, you will be. Confidence will follow.”

  “What if I don’t want to be queen?”

  Soren stared at me with an unfathomable expression. “It is your duty.”

  A duty I’d chosen to run away from early on. Just as I had avoided training with Echlios, I’d avoided my lessons and anything to do with ruling the High Court. But now that our plan is in action for me to assume my rightful place, we’ve resumed my formal training with renewed vengeance.

  “You did well,” Soren says, bringing me back to the present. “Two incorrect.”

  I frown. “Which ones?”

  “As Aquarathi queen, you must take the first bite before anyone else may eat.”

  “That’s dumb.”

  “It is a mark of respect,” Soren counters smoothly. “Second, a queen must wait for all lower-ranking Aquarathi to first extend their necks as a show of fealty before extending her welcome.”

  “I read somewhere that Queen Elizabeth has to extend her hand first.”

  Soren stares at me. “Humans don’t have teeth and claws like we do, do they?”

  “Touché,” I say, and bite my lip to stop from smiling, watching as she gathers the scrolls carefully into her arms. Soren’s sarcastic sense of humor takes getting used to, but she does have her moments.

  “We’re done for today. Have you finished your regular school homework?” she asks, stopping at the doorway.

  I shake my head. “Still have art.”

  “Dinner is in an hour.”

  “Where I must eat first?”

  “Gold star.”

  Grinning, I drag my art project to the middle of the dining room table and sigh. I stare out of the window to the sparkling ocean. I’d give anything to be out there instead of in here. Surfing. With Lo. Or doing other things, like kissing. The thought of that makes me breathless, and I shiver with the delicious indulgence of it.

  Lo is still completely arrogant but there’s so much more beyond the facade. He’s caring and smart and his knowledge of the ocean is tremendous, which is a definite plus in my book. Anyone who loves the ocean as much as I do can do no wrong in my opinion. And he does. Not only is he volunteering at the marine center, he’s also part of a national organization that supports global ocean policy and coordinates efforts for better conservancy laws.

  He’s so perfect that, for a moment, I wish that he weren’t human. But he is, and that means that someone on his side is looking out for future generations and taking measures to protect the waters of our planet.

  If I wasn’t falling for him before, I am now.

  Lo told me that he’s always been interested in the ocean, and growing up near it his whole life made him sensitive to some of the challenges facing conservancy. He told me about his dad, but he also said that his mother was on some important governing board that made far-reaching decisions on federal funding for ocean protection. When I asked him about his mother, he clammed up and said that she was always gone and that he never saw her.

  At least he still has a mother that he gets to see. Mine is being held captive by some lunatic usurper.

  Of course, I couldn’t tell him that so I just sympathized and said that she didn’t know what she was missing out on. He laughed and said that he could never measure up, no matter what he did, so it was best for everyone that she wasn’t around.

  Lo’s absentee mother aside—his biological father died when he was a baby—he seems to have everything he wants at his fingertips. He lives in a beautiful cliff-side house in La Jolla that has amazing views. I know it does, because it was empty for years, almost the same length of time that we’ve been here. Kids used to say that it was haunted but obviously that isn’t the case since Lo lives there. We’d only ever talked about it once.

  “Did your family always own that house?” I asked him during one of our many phone calls.

  “Yes.”

  “And no one lived there before you got there?” He went so quiet on the phone that I almost thought we’d gotten disconnected.

  “No.” An awkward silence, and then, “It’s my mother’s, but she’s never here.”

  “Wow, your own house and still in high school,” I’d said. “That’s pretty extravagant. Does she live with you?”

  “Sometimes. She also has a house in Rancho Santa Fe.” I was surprised that they didn’t live together and that his mother lived in a very exclusive community, home to the likes of Bill Gates and Jewel, miles away from her son.

  “So you live mostly alone?”

  “I have a staff. Can we talk about something else?”

  We dropped it, but it never really left my mind. The way he said “staff” sounded so empty. The more I get to know Lo, the more I realize that he’s a loner, and he lives a very solitary lifestyle. The thing is, Lo chooses to be alone. He never talks to anyone at school—like voluntarily talks to them—except Sawyer when they chat about surfing, and me. Even with Cara, he tends to listen instead of talk. He doesn’t hang out outside of school at any of the local haunts in town. He’s a loner, a social observer, living more on the outside than on the inside.

  He was right when he said that we were similar. Outside of my family, Jenna is my only real friend. I used to be interested in learning the social dynamics of kids at school, and what the humans have to teach me, but that all changed when I got to know her. Turns out, one true friend is worth far more than a handful of acquaintances.

  “My lady,” a voice calls out, interrupting my thoughts.

  “What is it, Soren?”

  “Come quickly! To the pool.” The urgency in her voice sends wild alarms shooting through me. I toss my art project to the side and race out where Echlios, Speio and Soren are standing at the edge of the pool, staring into the middle of its depths.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Echlios points in silence, his face a wooden mask. In the middle of the pool, lying on the bottom like a dot of blood, is a burnished ebony scale the size of a silver dollar. Ehmora has been here, or has sent one of her human henchmen to leave us a message.

  “So what? We knew she was going to challenge me,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “Get that thing out of my pool and destroy it.”

  “Riss, there’s more,” Speio says in a small voice. I turn slowly, an ugly sensation prickling across the back of my neck. I can se
nse it’s something terrible...something unthinkable. An ache fills my stomach and suddenly my legs feel like lead weights, refusing to take me back to where Echlios is standing with something in his hand. Ehmora wouldn’t be so cruel. She couldn’t have, could she?

  But she has.

  She’s more than cruel, after all, and I’m just naive.

  Echlios holds out a scroll that has been written in blood—Aquarathi blood—and a box containing a handful of scales and spines that look like they’ve been hacked off. I don’t look at them. I can’t look at them.

  Instead, I read the letter inked in iridescent blood. There’s a time and a date. One month from today—a few days after my seventeenth birthday—she will challenge me for the High Court. Nothing more. No ultimatums, no threats, no warnings.

  “Give it to me.”

  “My lady—”

  “Now,” I shout, and then gentle my voice. “Echlios, please. I have to see it.”

  I open the top of the box and retch. Phantom pain slices into my head as I stumble backward, pressing my hands to my scalp. The scales are a pale bluish-purple color, oozing iridescent fluid along their edges. I recognize them as my mother’s immediately. But it isn’t just her scales in the box, it’s her crown...the same elegant ridge of spikes and fins on her forehead that mark mine—the mark of an Aquarathi queen.

  The entire thing has been flayed off her scalp.

  I don’t even realize that I’m screaming.

  15

  SECRETS AND SPIES

  “Nerissa, open the door, please. Please, my lady, you can’t stay in there forever.”

  Pulling my pillow over my head, I wait for Soren’s footsteps to recede. It’s been three days, and I can’t bring myself to come out of my room. I just want to stay in the darkness where I can drown my grief with silence. Because the truth is, if I open my door, I won’t be able to control myself. I won’t be able to hold myself back. I won’t stop until I find Ehmora and rip her into shreds, challenge or no challenge.

  I have to find my mother.

  I swallow hard. The recollections I have of her are few but precious—a memory of memories—fragmented images of us lying together, a feathered voice against my temple whispering stories of Aquarathi past, a warm curl of tail winding protectively around me, jeweled eyes the exact replica of my own. So much time lost between us...and now, this.

  I have to save her.

  Lying in the dark, I stare at the slivers of moonlight streaking between the blinds across my door. Echlios said that Ehmora’s spies are watching us. I wonder if they’re watching us right now. Sliding out of my bed, I pull on a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt before I slip through my glass doors to the back deck. The pool is glistening in the silvery moonlight but I can’t even look at it without being consumed by rage.

  “Figured you’d try to slip away unnoticed.” I almost jump out of my skin at the whispered voice.

  “Jenna?” I whisper back, peering through the gloom before I see her sitting in a chair at the far end of the patio. She’s covered in a thick blanket and there’s a plate of snacks on the table beside her. “What are you doing here? How long have you been here?”

  “I’m your friend, that’s what, and only a couple hours. You wouldn’t let anyone in so Soren got desperate and called me. Plus, I had to cover for you at school. Again.” She shoots me a glare. “Anyway, I decided to try a different tactic and just wait you out, hoping that at some point you’d just go stir-crazy in there.”

  “You know me pretty well for a human,” I say.

  I can literally hear the sound of her eyes rolling skyward. “How about, I know you pretty well, period,” she retorts. “So where are we going?”

  “We are not going anywhere. You are going home.”

  “Riss, don’t shut me out, please.”

  “I’m not shutting you out. This doesn’t concern you. I should have never brought you in because now you could be in danger.”

  Jenna’s voice is gentle. “We can’t turn back time, so that’s that. I’m already involved. I can help, Riss. Let me help.”

  “I can’t,” I say flatly. “I can’t lose you, too. Or anyone else.” I ignore the feeling of agony bursting through my veins, as well as the green-and-yellow lines that are racing along my arms in furious response. Vinelike tattoos of gold curl up my arms and my neck, making my entire body glow. “She has my mother, Jenna. She—” My voice chokes on the last word, and my knees fail me. I sink to the ground, clutching my head.

  Jenna jumps of the chair and runs toward me. “Riss...” But I shove her away almost viciously. If she won’t listen to reason, I’ll have to force her to leave.

  “Get away!” I growl, pushing the spikes up out of my forehead and uncovering my eyes. We are fearsome in full form, but sometimes the half creature, half human appearance is more terrifying. Her eyes widen but she stands her ground, swallowing tightly. I feel the pull of my teeth lengthening into my human mouth and the ridges of my cheekbones pushing outward in sharp angles. I force myself to stop transforming so that I can still speak.

  “GO AWAY!” I snarl, letting her see the hideous rows of razor-sharp fangs in my mouth. “You don’t belong here.” I snap my jaws together in her direction and she jolts backward. I can feel her pulse racing in uncontrollable terror from where I am.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Nerissa Marin!” she yells.

  “You should be,” I hiss.

  “You want me to leave, fine. I’ll leave,” she tells me. “But I’ll be back. I’ll forgive you because you’re hurt, but if you pull any of this go-away territorial shit again, you and I are going to have a problem. Got me?”

  The human girl in me wants to laugh at her fierce threats, but I’m too far gone to feel anything but anger. Plus, she’s serious. As she leaves, my face relaxes back into its human shape and I fall back onto my haunches. Something wet whispers along the wind and I sigh.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I ask my family.

  “Long enough,” Echlios says.

  “I made a mistake with her. Now she’ll never be safe.”

  “We’ll keep her safe.”

  The fury rises like a volcanic tide. “Like my mother?”

  Pain radiates across Echlios’s face and I almost regret my accusing words. Almost. He’s not responsible, but a part of me still can’t forgive him for lying to me all these years, even at my father’s command.

  “Go back inside. I’m going out,” I snap, uncaring of my rude tone.

  “No, my lady, I must insist—”

  I glare him into silence, pressing my will hard enough into his for his eyes to go wide.

  He knows exactly what I can do—every day my strength grows. I’m already coming of age. I can feel it beneath my skin like a quiet unfurling storm at my center. After Dvija, my strength will be at its greatest.

  “I must insist, Echlios, that you go back inside,” I say quietly. He protests but I shake my head. “I don’t want to force you to obey me but I will. I am going out. I will be back. I will not do anything foolish.”

  Soren steps forward from the shadows and places her hand on her husband’s shoulder, her eyes watching me very carefully. Normally an open book, her face is unreadable. I stare back and lift my chin, daring her, too, to defy me.

  Speio, watching from the sidelines behind his parents, is also quiet. He doesn’t meet my eyes, and I’m glad. Because if he’s the normal judgmental Speio, he’s going to infuriate me, and if he shows any compassion, I will totally lose it. Either way, the outcome is better if he just doesn’t look at me.

  I walk out of the backyard without a second glance. None of them follow me, which of course, I’d know in an instant. Walking down the deserted beach to the water’s edge, I sink my bare feet into the wet sand and curl my
toes in. The moon makes the water look like black ink with silvery swirling patterns. I search for any evidence of the jellyfish but they’ve all gone back out to sea, and sadly, the only color in the ocean is an inky black capped with icy white crests.

  I study the water, wondering whether Ehmora is somewhere out there, watching me watching her, but something tells me that she won’t be that predictable. My insides twist. I’ve never hated anyone more. Remembering why I left my house, I step into the water and let it flow around my ankles and soak into my skin, turning to face the beach. Pulling the energy of the ocean into me, my eyes scan the area, all my senses alert.

  I throw my glimmer out like a net, widening and widening until I feel it nearly separating the top layer of my skin from the flesh beneath. And still I push. They’re there. I know it. I thrust the glimmer out even more, my alien eyes seeing the thin shadow of gold reaching farther than I’ve even gone before. I’m spread so thin that it feels as if I’m going to separate into the glimmer—I can barely hold on to it. I’m just about to give up but then I feel it.

  A slight tug. Somewhere to my left.

  Human.

  Focusing all my water, I heave the glimmer-shadow to where I’d felt the pull and start running, letting the glimmer lead me like a fishing line. There are two of them. A brutish-looking ogre of a man and a woman built like a truck. She looks official, dressed in army fatigues, whereas he’s more of a grunt. She is the one in charge—the one who will have the answers. She sees me coming but stands her ground, her fingers hovering over her sidearm.

  Admirable, but stupid.

  My glimmer jolts back into me in an electrifying rush, taking energy from the moisture in the air around me. I take a deep breath just as the woman draws her firearm and shoots. Dodging the first projectile, I catch the second in my hand, still running toward her. It’s some kind of dart, one that is probably designed to put me out or to slow me down. I leap out of the way of three more darts and fling myself toward her midsection. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the man taking off without a backward glance for his partner, and without thinking, I fling the glimmer out right at him, taking brute control of the water in his body.