Breakwater

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Breakwater Page 7

by Catherine Jones Payne


  A broken stone jar with a handful of coins sat on the seafloor about five feet from Juliana. I pulled my purse from beneath my wrap, fished out two large gold coins, and dropped them into her jar.

  She smiled at me and cast an image of a dolphin no larger than my hand. It swam toward me and disappeared in a puff of bubbles just as I reached to touch it.

  “Come on.” Pippa tugged my arm. “There’s more to see.”

  We moved down the canal, and I lost myself in the rhythm of the crowd, which seemed somehow brighter and more comfortable than the gatherings of mer I avoided in the city. I wondered if Father’s killers were in the canal with me, but I brushed away the thought.

  “I didn’t realize there was so much life here.” I paused to watch a canal performer play a set of hand drums.

  “Well, of course there is.” Pippa arched her eyebrows. “Just because things are hard doesn’t mean we curl in on ourselves. Back in the Wye, we gathered together every evening to watch the river dancers and listen to music. If we didn’t have music and dancing, it’d be like losing the last piece of home.”

  “The mer have always focused more on drawing and sculpture,” I said. “The stories of our ancestors especially.”

  “Anna said Yvonna has exquisite taste—not that you’d know it from the pretentious art she displays in the main part of the house. But in the back rooms, she apparently has some really lovely pieces.” A wistful expression overtook Pippa’s face, but it vanished quickly.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” She pressed her hand to her side. “The wound isn’t even hurting.”

  “No, I mean—”

  “Yes, Jade,” she said firmly. “I’m fine.”

  Three giggling naiad children burst across our path in a rush of bubbles. When I looked up, grinning at their exuberance, I met the gaze of an amber-eyed merman. His brown hair curled in gentle waves around his shoulders, and his wrap couldn’t hide his broad shoulders and strong chest.

  But his face? I know that face. My heart thundered in my chest. “Alexander? What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, you know Xander?” Pippa asked, the creases around her eyes relaxing.

  “It’s been a long time,” I said.

  “Jade?” He crossed the canal toward us with a roguish smile. “I’m surprised to see you here. I’ve heard about—” His eyes darkened. “—well, everything, of course.”

  “I think everyone has,” I murmured, glancing down at the seafloor.

  “Oh, not like that. I admire what you did.”

  I quirked my lips. “Really?”

  “Of course. I hope the magistrate convicts.”

  “You might be the only mer in the city who thinks that,” I said with a mirthless laugh. “The king himself is presiding because of how sensitive everything is.”

  “Wow. That hasn’t happened in at least a year.”

  “Closer to two,” I said. “Trial’s in four days.”

  “So soon?”

  I glanced at Pippa, who shifted her weight from foot to foot. “At Tor’s request. But not soon enough for some of us. I’ll be glad when this whole thing is behind me.”

  He followed my gaze to Pippa. “Hey, let’s catch up. Would you ladies eat lunch with me? There’s a place down the way that serves an exceptional kelp-and-grouper pod.”

  “I’d like that.” I think. I glanced at Pippa, who nodded.

  “Sure,” she said. “Are you talking about Rowena’s restaurant?”

  “That’s the one.”

  She turned to me. “He’s not overselling the pod. It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  I grinned, hoping I wasn’t overdoing the enthusiasm. “I can’t wait.” I turned back to Alexander, and the three of us moved down the canal. “So, Alexander, I haven’t seen you in, what, three years? Not since you left school to take that job.”

  He grimaced. “I’m sorry I disappeared like that.”

  “Oh?” I said, my voice cool. “I mean, it’s not like I really noticed.”

  “Come, Jade. Don’t be like that,” he said.

  I scowled at him. “You didn’t even write.”

  “I was . . . I was embarrassed I had to leave school. Our friends were all high-class mer like you. I was the only poor kid in our group, and when I had to start working instead, it seemed easier to make a clean break. I know it was immature of me. I really am sorry.”

  I made eye contact with Pippa and raised my eyebrows. Not going to get out of the net that easily. “Well, I’m glad it was so easy for you to forget all of us.”

  “Are you just coming to lunch with me to pout about how I acted like skub when I was fourteen?”

  “You’ve had three years to find me.”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d want to hear from me anymore. You’re graduated and engaged. Well, you were engaged. Sorry. Bad timing.”

  A pang of sadness took me aback, but I smirked and stuck my tongue out at him. “You always did have bad timing.”

  “Depths, Jade,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you acting all hurt just to get back at me?”

  Of course it hurt, you idiot. With a cheery smile, I said, “What do you think?”

  “I think you were in love with me, and I broke your heart when I left.” He winked.

  “Oh, naturally, darling,” I said, affecting a caricature of a posh accent with a roll of my eyes. “I cried myself to sleep every night.”

  You have no idea how right you are. But I wouldn’t admit it, of course.

  Pippa smirked at me.

  “It was tragic when you got engaged,” Alexander said. “But I guess the fiancé isn’t around now, so you must fall madly in love with me again.” He grabbed my hand.

  I pulled away and slapped at his hand. “Don’t take liberties. We’re not schoolkids anymore.”

  He drifted backward a moment and studied my face. He relaxed when I grinned.

  To be honest, I was still a little mad at him. But it felt good to engage in the banter I’d valued so much back in school. Conversations with Tor had never felt so easy and natural.

  Don’t even think about it. Too soon. Far too soon.

  We arrived at the restaurant and gathered around a table in the center of the dining room. I pulled one of the hammocks out from underneath the table and tucked myself into a seated position on it. Pippa did the same to my right, and Alexander chose the place across from me. After a few minutes, a naiad server came to take our order, and she didn’t show any sign of recognition when she turned to ask me what I wanted.

  It surprised me. For so long, it had seemed like everyone in the city—or at least everyone on the rich end of the city—knew who I was.

  I gloried in the moment of anonymity. It felt like I was back in school, before graduation and adulthood and all the drama of life among the nobility had taken over everything.

  “Joking aside,” said Alexander, “I really am glad to see you, Jade.”

  “I’m glad too,” I said, surprised to realize that I meant it. “So, what are you doing in the naiad quarter?”

  “Xander lives here,” said Pippa. “And works here, too. He’s one of the only mer in the quarter.”

  “What?” I said, looking quizzically at him. “Couldn’t you get a job in the city?”

  Pippa shifted in her hammock, but Alexander laughed. “This is still part of the city.”

  “Well . . . yes, but . . . why here?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? I like the people. Rent is reasonable. Don’t have to deal with stuck-up nobles taking up half the canal.”

  He winked at Pippa, who snorted.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “How’s Kiki?” he asked. “You guys still sneaking to the drop-off to swim with the sharks?”

  “We hardly ever see sharks, thank you very much.”

  He tsked. “What would your mother say?”

  “What wouldn’t she say?” I muttered.

  He chuckled. “What wouldn�
�t she say, indeed.”

  “Lady Cleo’s always been perfectly sweet to me,” said Pippa.

  Alexander and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Mother’s great,” I said. “But Alexander and I—and our other friends—tested her patience when we were in school.”

  Alexander gasped in mock affront. “Speak for yourself. And for Kora, Rhea, and Caleb. They all tested her patience. I just got caught up in the aftermath.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t line our doorstep with sea urchins?”

  “Um . . . ”

  “Or impersonate an inspector to get us—”

  “Shhhh,” he said with an impish grin. “That one’s a secret.”

  “Ah, yes. You didn’t test her patience at all, clearly.”

  He eyed me. “You were always the ringleader, and you know it.”

  “Who, me?” My eyes widened.

  “It’s a wonder you ever grew into a proper lady.”

  The server brought our food, and I discovered that Pippa and Alexander were right. It was excellent. I liked it more than the stuffy, expensive food the nobles always served at parties or ate on Grand Canal. It was like something Mother and I would make at home when we weren’t expecting visitors.

  “How’s Benjamin?” Alexander asked. “I guess he’s probably not a little kid anymore, huh?”

  “No.” I pouted. “He’s the most thoughtful, considerate thirteen-year-old I’ve ever met. A young man, really. I’m proud of him.”

  “I don’t believe it. I can’t imagine him a day older than ten. I’ll have to come float with you to see this for myself. And to torment your mother, of course.”

  I snorted and took another bite of grouper.

  When we finished eating, Alexander announced he needed to leave for work. “Can I see you again?” he asked as we drifted out of the restaurant just ahead of Pippa.

  My heart fluttered, and I stuffed down the warning blaring in my head. “I’d like that.”

  “Good,” he said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Stay safe, Jade. For real. There’s a lot of turmoil boiling in places you can’t see.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Well,” Pippa said playfully as she walked past me and turned to look me in the eye, “that was fun.” She smirked.

  “It’s not—”

  “You guys make a cute couple.”

  “Oh, no. Alexander’s like a brother to—”

  “Don’t give me that.” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You were flirting like mad. And I saw the way you looked at each other.”

  I sighed and looked at my hands. “It doesn’t matter. It can’t be. The scandal would practically bring down the city.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No it wouldn’t.”

  “It’d be pretty bad.”

  “Hasn’t stopped you before.”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it again. She had a point.

  “That was a matter of justice.” My excuse sounded weak even to me.

  A flurry of emotions washed over her face, and I suspected she was thinking of Anna. She pushed it all away with a tight laugh. “Let’s go. There are other people I’d like you to meet.”

  I followed her, noticing shops scattered amid the line of houses, even though this canal was quieter than Camford Canal had been.

  The quarter looked so different from the city—the rest of the city, I reminded myself—that I struggled to interpret the bustle unfolding before my eyes. In the main part of the city, few canals had both shops and houses on them, or, if they did, the shops sat on the corners where one canal intersected another. Here, I didn’t see any way to determine which structures were homes and which were shops.

  After a few minutes of floating down the canal and observing which doors naiads went in and out of, I determined that the door curtains hung open in the shops, whereas they remained closed as privacy screens in the homes.

  Well, that makes sense.

  I was attracting attention again, but I guessed it was because they didn’t see many mer in this part of town, not because they recognized me as Lady Cleo’s daughter.

  The naiad quarter was smaller—Thessalonike was home to two thousand naiads and fifteen thousand mer—but it often remained isolated from the rest of the city. Naiads didn’t care as much about the distinction between common and noble mer as the rest of us did. All the mer outranked them, anyway.

  A number of naiads seemed to recognize Pippa, however, and soon she began introducing me to a steady stream of her friends, all of whom seemed excited to meet me. They’d heard my name, even if they didn’t know my face.

  So much for anonymity.

  An elderly naiad with waist-length white hair and a luminous amethyst dress approached us, hands outstretched to Pippa. “Are you alright, my dear?”

  “Tryphaena!” Pippa bowed at the waist. “I’m as well as can be expected, thank you.”

  Tryphaena glanced at me, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “J-Jade. Jade Cleopola.” I threaded my fingers together.

  “Ah.” She locked eyes with Pippa, then returned her focus to me. “I am Tryphaena Camford.”

  “Tryphaena was queen of the Camford naiads when we lived in the rivers,” Pippa said. “Now, of course, we don’t recognize any royalty but King Stephanos, but we value Tryphaena’s wisdom and leadership.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you.” I dipped my head.

  “No, Lady Jade.” Tryphaena reached out to grab my hand. “The honor is mine. Thank you for your honesty and courage.”

  “Anyone would have done the same thing.”

  She chuckled. “No. Most people would have let fear silence them, even if they wanted to report Captain Tor.”

  My gaze drifted to the seafloor. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  Tryphaena excused herself, and Pippa and I moved down the canal. After mingling for about another hour, we retired to Pippa’s house, which was almost repaired. Two of her friends, a brother and sister named William and Miriam, accompanied us.

  “The door locks now,” Pippa said, “which is the most important part. I’m still not sleeping here overnight because the reinforcement on the door isn’t quite done.”

  “I’ll finish that tomorrow,” William said. “You’ll be able to move back in soon.”

  “William has done most of the work getting it fixed for me,” Pippa said. “I asked the owner of the house to fix it, but he told me I was lying when I said a gang of mer broke in. He threatened to have me imprisoned for damaging his property if I didn’t fix it myself. William’s been a life saver.”

  My gills flared. “Who owns your house?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to cause trouble. You can’t right every injustice. There are too many in the world for you to take them all on.”

  I let it go for the moment but determined to check into it once everything settled down. Pushing my simmering anger away, I tried to focus on the conversation with William and Miriam—something about a petition they were going to take to the inspector who supervised the naiad quarter.

  I returned to the naiad quarter twice more in the next few days before Tor’s trial began, but I couldn’t spend time with Alexander—customers swamped the netting shop each time I went in to visit. He gave me a brief wave from across the crowd but couldn’t escape the watchful eye of the shop owner.

  With a pang of disappointment, I left with Pippa, and we roamed the canals before retiring to her place for lunch and conversation.

  The day before the trial, I found myself at her kitchen table with Miriam and William. A somber mood hovered in the waters.

  “It’ll be alright.” Miriam clutched Pippa’s hand.

  “It won’t bring Anna back,” Pippa said, staring at the window.

  William folded his hands and looked at Pippa. “I’d give anything to bring her back. She was the best of us all.”

  “You didn’t liv
e with her,” Pippa said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “Maybe that’s why you always idolized her.”

  “How old was Anna?” I asked.

  “Sixteen,” said William. “She would’ve been seventeen this next storm season.”

  Something about the expression on his face caught me off guard. I closed my eyes for a moment. “You loved her, didn’t you?”

  He hesitated, glancing first at me and then at Pippa. “I was going to ask her to marry me on her birthday.”

  Pippa’s hand flew to her mouth, and her chin crumpled. Miriam shot William a scathing look.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, standing and rushing to Pippa’s side. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have told you. There wasn’t any reason to bring it up.”

  “No,” Pippa said, her voice tight. “I’m glad I know. She always did adore you, you know. Time with you made her happy, and I’m so glad . . . ” She choked on a sob.

  We sat in silence until Pippa spoke again.

  “She was melancholic sometimes, too. She always wanted a meaningful death. Something that would be remembered. That would count for something. That was always more important to her than growing old.”

  “If the king convicts,” said William, “it will send a clear message to the mer that they can’t get away with this sort of thing. Anna’s death will do a lot to protect the rest of us.”

  “And if he doesn’t convict?” Pippa asked.

  I locked eyes with her. “Then we do whatever we must to make sure the nobles—and all the mer—know that this cannot happen again.”

  When I awoke the morning of Tor’s trial, I didn’t want to pull myself out of my hammock. I pushed away the searing image of Anna’s eyes.

  When I testify, I’ll have to remember.

  To make matters worse, Pippa would be in the audience. I couldn’t imagine talking about what I’d seen in front of her. Or, for that matter, recounting my conversation with Tor.

  Why does it matter? he’d said. She’s just a naiad.

  And worse: You of all people shouldn’t care.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe I shouldn’t care. Maybe my friendship with Pippa and the hours I’d spent in the naiad quarter were all a terrible mistake.

 

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