She was abruptly unable to breathe, afflicted by the internal suffocation. Aazuria felt that she was going to die—it might have been a fitting method since she had drowned her father with his own blood, allowing it to flood his lungs like faulty plumbing. She had done the same to Prince Zalcan Hamnil. Surely this was the best way for her to go, but she could not allow herself to think of that in this moment. Her powerful hands reached up to seize Melusina’s wrists and rip the mystic’s hands from her body. She was alarmed when she found that all of her strength could not budge the small woman.
Finally, when Melusina removed her hands, Aazuria felt all of her energy drain from her body. She doubled forward, sinking to the crystalline ground, and lying limply for a moment as she tried to gather her wits. Her vision was distorted, with hues of red and yellow twisting in her line of sight. She suddenly realized that it must not have been only the effect of the pipe which had affected Visola so much that night in Australia, but whatever Melusina had done to her. Now, hundreds of years later, the woman was exponentially more powerful, and it sent tremors of fear through Aazuria as she tried to scramble to pull her body from the ground. Hundreds of thousands of push-ups and strict fighting regimens could not have prepared her for this spiritual attack.
“Seek the Falcon and trust his fire; for he will be pivotal. Once, you showed mercy out of love for the Firebird, sparing the life of a man who deserved none. Now, the time has come for you to collect the devotion he owes you—the destruction only he can wreak will be the payment of blood honor.”
“Vachlan?” Aazuria murmured in amazement. “Do you think he can make a difference?”
“The Falcon is pivotal. He always has been. Every breath taken by that man makes a difference. The land sighs beneath his footsteps and the oceans tremble beneath his beating wings.” Melusina’s hands paused in the water, drifting in a mid-speech formation. Shadows of eerie light seemed to dance over her tanned, wrinkled skin. “But beyond enlisting the help of a vital entity, a titanic transformation must happen within you. If you do not refurbish your soul, you will never succeed.”
“Refurbish,” she repeated, staring at the woman’s hands without blinking, “how?”
“You know the answer already. Aazuria Vellamo, as she was, must die. Only then can the Sapphire rise from the bottom of the earth where her spirit is still trapped—a spirit that seeks to disperse like a righteous plague amongst the waves. It is the Sapphire who will stir the uprising against the Onyx. She is not who you are as of yet, and yet she is of you within.”
Surprisingly, all of this made perfect sense to Aazuria. It must have been her dizzied, altered state. “How do I become her?”
“You must sacrifice your old self. You must sacrifice that to which you cling. Relinquish your blood. Relinquish your bonds. Relinquish your husband and sister, for they have surrendered you.”
“I have done all that,” Aazuria responded. “Do you not see my actions? I have not sought them out.”
“Your actions lie!” The woman swam down to strike Aazuria in the center of her chest again. “It is right here, pulsating under the palm of my hand. The hope of centuries for a single man with whom you connect in a way you cannot explain. A single man to whom you wish to devote yourself, like every woman in love yearns to do. Terminate this; crush it to a pulp and heave it from your breast. The Sapphire is not devoted to a single man. The Sapphire is devoted to the sea! The Sapphire is slave to the freedom of the sea-people!”
“Yes,” Aazuria whispered out loud, forgetting to use sign language in her wonder. “I am slave to their freedom.”
“You must bid farewell to all that you were. You must abandon your daughter.”
Everything came rushing back to Aazuria in a single instant. She sprung from the ground, instantly closing her mind to all of Melusina’s intrusive arbitration.
“I’ll give up anything you want me to give. But not Varia. Never Varia.”
“And who will take care of her when you are taken from her by your obligations? Who will take care of her when something happens to you? And believe me, something will happen to you.”
“What do you mean?” Aazuria asked fiercely.
“Your soul will shine through your sapphire eyes when you defeat the Clan of Zalcan. You will be victorious and the moment will live on in history. But you will be no more.”
Aazuria studied the woman carefully. “Then I suppose I will just have to defeat Emperor Zalcan while wearing colored contact lenses.”
“Do not be difficult—you can distrust me but you cannot resist the fast-flowing river of your destiny. It will take you downstream before you can catch at a branch or stone, whether or not you listen to my counsel. Is it of your desire that I assist you, Daughter of Sedna?”
Slowly, Aazuria elevated her jaw before lowering it again in the motion of nodding. She had no one else on her side. “I value your loyalty, Mother Melusina. I treasure your guidance. But do not ask me to part with my daughter.”
“I just want the best for both you and the princess. Does she not deserve to be raised in privilege, like you were? You have considered this yourself; she deserves a palace education. If you are wise, you will surrender her to someone who can provide a permanent, stable home for her. Allow her father, aunt, uncle, and cousins to love her while you protect Adlivun.”
“Are you saying that I should give my daughter to King Trevain!” Aazuria signed with fierce hand movements, insanely jealous at the concept. “Absolutely not! Does he not have enough in his life, while I have nothing except for Varia?”
“I see—so the real reason you have not gone back to your husband and sister is not because you want to perpetuate their happiness, but because you want to perpetuate their punishment!” Mother Melusina moved forward with a sly smile. “How eloquent, Queen Aazuria. Only you could find a way to deliver the ultimate in justice to a man—you have deprived him of knowing that his daughter lives! Deprived him of sharing your joy in Varia’s childhood! Deprived him of being able to see the woman he loves most, the woman he chose to marry. Did you really deceive yourself that your actions were chosen out of kindness? I have reached into your chest and seen that you lust for vengeance! You are too resentful and covetous to share your daughter—you hoard Varia like a treasured bauble, uncaring of the fact that she needs to know the rest of her family…”
“Please,” Aazuria responded, closing her eyes for a second as these words sunk in. Could these accusations be true? “The fewer people who know of Varia’s identity, the safer she is.”
“It is your decision—but not the only such decision you will need to make. In a few minutes, the Falcon will be coming here to collect the child of the fallen warrior. I recommend that you allow me to entrust my nephew to the Falcon and Firebird, but it is your decision.”
“Vachlan’s coming here?” She had made a promise to Bain that she would take care of his son. Here at Gypsum Cavern, Glais would be protected and cared for by both his aunt and Aazuria herself, and have Varia’s companionship. It would also be healthy for Varia to be close to a friend of her own age. She and Glais seemed to communicate well.
Everything was happening too fast. Aazuria wanted to honor her vow to Bain—but perhaps the royal life and a palace education would be better for Glais. Better for both children? Finally, she thought of Visola. She imagined that there was some specific reason that Visola wanted custody of Glais. She realized that she was already taking the predictions of the priestess as fact instead of questioning them and being skeptical. This bothered her; but the woman seemed so adept at her art that it would be foolish to challenge and protest her skill when she could instead accept its benefit.
“I will ask Glais what he wants,” Aazuria decided. “Either way, I do not want to be seen by Vachlan.”
“You can remain in the Arcanite Chamber on the second level of this house as he visits. The quarters are spacious and I believe you will find them comfortable to take some rest. There are properties in the mi
nerals on the walls that should offer you powerful dreams of healing and insight.”
“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Aazuria told the woman.
“Queen Aazuria, it is a joy to serve a true leader. You are the pure Sapphire, and you can save us all if you will only consider my words.”
Chapter 10: Chemist from Canada
Aazuria gripped the handle of her old tortoiseshell hairbrush, staring down at the design with nostalgia. Her mother had given her the hairbrush, longer ago than her mind could clearly recall. Even though she was at home, sitting in her old bedroom for the first time in a decade, she felt herself drowning with homesickness. She had Varia with Mother Melusina as her babysitter, and Glais had gone with Vachlan; she was all alone to face her past. The mostly-submerged glacial palace that she had lived in for hundreds of years was now mostly-abandoned. Only one wing, the most elegantly designed section, was still regularly maintained and used by the Japanese mermaids. Aazuria had waited in nearby caves until Queen Amabie and her daughter Yamako had left the area with a heavy escort of Ningyo officials. She had learned from the priestess that all the important administrators would be meeting in Upper Adlivun this evening to discuss the repercussions of the riot she had started.
Shamefully, Aazuria had used the opportunity to steal the steel belonging to her friend and ally. She knew that if there were weapons of quality to be found anywhere in the Bering Strait, it would be in what was now called Mizuchi House, where the displaced Japanese royals had settled after the destruction of their home. Quickly weaving her way through the icy corridors leading to the armory, Aazuria had been thrilled to see that there were still weapons of the old style. Queen Amabie was nearly a thousand years old, and would soon celebrate her millennium of health. (It was an event Aazuria had been looking forward to for quite some time, and was rather disappointed that she would miss.) The warrior queen of the Ningyo had lived amongst the samurai, greatly influencing Visola’s fighting style, and sometimes even her morals. Another spell of jealousy took over Aazuria’s emotions, for the foreign queen was close to her best friend when she could not be. She missed Visola until her heart was raw. If there was anyone she was ever tempted to rush to in tears, it was the red-haired general.
Five hundred years of friendship was a hard thing to sacrifice.
For no reason, Aazuria dragged the tortoiseshell hairbrush through her new, fake black hair. The Sisters of Sedna had helped to disguise her appearance so that she would blend in among the Japanese sea-dwellers. Even if noticed, she would be unrecognizable. She studied the strange dark eyes peering back at her from the mirror of her little vanity table. (She knew she should not be wasting time in the old familiar places, but she needed this moment of literal reflection.) It felt strange not having her hair floating up all around her in the rendered image; her room had usually been kept filled at least partly with water, but it now was dry. She had initially thought that this was from abandonment, but upon more careful inspection, all of her icy-furniture was freshly chiseled. The glacial interior required frequent maintenance to keep the shape of the frozen structures, and masons had evidently been instructed to preserve Aazuria’s room in her absence and keep all of her belongings in their rightful place. Did someone hope she would return?
On an impulse, she tugged open the little drawer of her vanity table, remembering what treasures had been stored there in yore. Her eyes widened when she saw the opulent sparkle—most of the jewels were heirlooms that she was sure Visola had pawned long ago to fund the battle with Atargatis. It seemed that her friend had repurchased the gems—probably with her husband’s endless stores of ill-gotten gold. But her attention was caught by an item that did not sparkle at all. A little black box seemed out of place amidst the finery, and Aazuria lifted it gingerly. Snapping off the lid, she was surprised to find her engagement ring.
She blinked. It was the Ramaris ring that had belonged to Trevain’s mother. She had left it in Adlivun when she had ventured away for her week of meditation before her wedding—the week during which she had been abducted. Should this ring not be on Elandria’s finger? As she stared at the object, gulping down acidic-tasting memories, she wondered what it meant that the little metal circle had been left here. Did Trevain really keep her memory so sacred?
“Hi!” said a cheerful voice, startling Aazuria to her feet and making her drop the ring box. Her hand was on the hilt of a stolen katana when she realized her attacker was a small child.
“Hello,” Aazuria said awkwardly, feeling guilty for being caught in the act. She had not expected a visitor so deep in the palace, for her old bedroom was in an extremely secluded location, concealed by dozens of twisting passageways. Apparently, this little boy was something of an explorer. She hoped he was too young to understand her thievery. There was a huge curious smile on his face, and shiny jet-black hair that was styled in a bowl-cut.
“Are you the ghost of the dead queen?” he asked in excitement. He was probably the son of Princess Yamako.
“I don’t think I’m a ghost,” Aazuria answered softly. She reached down to pick up the ring she had dropped, and surprised herself by ripping it from the box and sticking it in her pocket. To make this action less meaningful, her hand discreetly darted out to grab a handful of other jewels and deposit them in the same pocket. She closed the drawer and turned her attention to the child. “What is your name?”
“I’m Kaito! But you can call me ‘Kai’ ’cause everyone does.” He seemed to be staring at her thoughtfully. “Are you a zombie? Kolo said that it’s 83% more likely that the dead queen came back as Zombie Zuri, not a ghost, and she’s usually right about things like that. She’s older than me and she watches all the movies. My mommy won’t let me watch the movies.”
Aazuria felt a smile tugging at her lips. “Who is Kolo?”
“She’s my friend,” Kaito said. “Her daddy is the king’s funny brother. She can’t breathe underwater, but she uses machines or Doctor Sio’s special juice and it helps her hang out with me. You wanna meet her?”
“Maybe some other time. I think I had better go,” Aazuria said, grabbing the stolen weapons. “It was nice to meet you, Kaito.”
“No, wait!” he protested. “I’m so bored in the panic room. I don’t have anyone to play with, and all these doctors are running around saying things I don’t understand. I wanna play zombies!”
“Panic room?” Aazuria asked curiously. “Where is that?”
“There’s a secret entrance from the old ballroom,” the little boy answered. “Wanna come see? I know the code!”
“Sure,” Aazuria said, imagining that it could come in handy to know more about whatever Kaito was talking about. She deftly moved after him, cautiously examining the corridors for signs of guards.
“My mommy makes me stay in the panic room when she’s busy because she says it’s safer. She said avoid all the strangers, but you’re not a stranger. You’re a zombie. Kolo’s gonna flip!”
As she followed the young boy, Aazuria realized that she was enchanted by the prince’s obsession with the undead. Even though he seemed only a year or two younger than Varia, he was evidently in the middle of an enjoyable childhood. He was able to indulge in fantasy and playful pursuits while still being protected by this ‘panic room’ with which she would soon be acquainted. Compared to this cheerful young boy, Varia seemed like an old woman. For the first time, Aazuria seriously considered maneuvering her daughter into the palace. She would have liked if Varia had a fun-loving, warm-witted friend like the adorable Japanese prince.
The energetic child chattered endlessly, keeping Aazuria entertained as they traveled through the palace. As he shared his theories on the motivations and psychologies of zombies, Aazuria gazed at her surroundings wistfully. It was difficult to see the ballroom and remember when it had been filled with water, and all of the aristocratic families dressed in their finery for a dance. She remembered the brightly-colored fabric swirling in the water, and the haunting sound of he
r sister’s voice echoing through the waves.
“Okay, I’ll open the secret door,” Kaito said once they had reached a metal structure with a keypad, “but first you have to answer an important question!”
Aazuria could not help shuddering when she saw the door and the keypad. It reminded her of being stuck deep in Lake Vostok, unable to work the elevator which was controlled by a code. “Sure,” she said softly. “What is your question?”
“What’s it like being a zombie?” Kaito said seriously.
Staring down at the little boy in amusement for a moment, she considered how to answer this. “Well, it’s nice having super zombie-strength and… other zombie powers,” she admitted. She did not know what other powers a zombie had, but she was sure that she could somehow relate to them. “However, when you’ve been buried underground for a really long time, you get very tired and cranky, and everything isn’t as fun as it used to be. It’s also really depressing when you realize that you’re dead to everyone you know, and they’re perfectly happy without you. Even happier than they were before.”
“That’s sad, Zombie Zuri,” Kaito said in a gloomy voice. “I’m really sorry. I think I don’t want to be a zombie anymore.”
“Probably a wise decision,” Aazuria remarked.
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