Breakwater

by Catherine Jones Payne

  I groaned, but a wisp of a smile turned up the edges of my lips.

  Mother yelled from down the hall, “Not even your father would have thought that was funny.”

  He socked my arm. “What do you think?”

  Arching an eyebrow, I said, “Well, you should probably stay in school rather than trying to make it as a teenage comedian.”

  “When I’m famous, you’ll wish you’d been more supportive,” he said, blocking my face with his hand.

  “Suuuuure,” I said, reaching out and poking him in the side.

  He squeaked, and the tips of his ears turned bright red.

  “Well, that made me feel better,” I said with a devilish grin.

  “Benjamin, have you done your schoolwork yet?” Mother called.

  “You don’t get my genius,” he shouted with a dramatic swish of his hair. Then he sauntered out of my room.

  I suppressed a chuckle and resumed my silent vigil at the window with a lighter heart and a little more hope.

  On the fourth morning after Tor’s trial, while Mother sat at the table finishing breakfast, I swam back and forth across the bottom level of the house. This is intolerable. I was maddened enough to seriously consider working for Sophia the Ridiculous if it would release me from the monotony of what felt like my own house arrest.

  George entered the house with his face furrowed into deep lines.

  “What is it?” I asked, my jaw tightening.

  “The naiads are rioting,” he said. “All through the quarter.”

  Mother’s eyes widened. “What happened? Was it the sentencing?”

  George rubbed his temples. “That’s part of it, I’m sure. Another naiad girl’s gone missing, and a gang of mer destroyed several homes last night, they say.”

  Nausea threatened to overwhelm me. Don’t riot, I wanted to scream. Don’t you know it’ll only make things worse?

  But would it really? Could things really get worse?

  Of course they can.

  Mother’s eyes widened. “How bad are the riots?” she asked, reaching for her cloak. “I’ve got to get to the palace.”

  “Bad enough,” he said. “Word on the canal was that the Royal Mer Guard was losing control over the quarter. It’s probably an exaggeration—you know how people talk—but . . . ”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Foolish, foolish,” she muttered. She kissed the top of my head and darted out the door.

  I thought of Alexander and wondered if he was alright. It couldn’t be safe for a mer who lived in the quarter, even if the naiads knew him.

  The liberationists had lain low for years—ever since they’d killed Father—but they were still walking free, and I suspected they’d incited the rioting.

  “Pippa found me in the canal on my way here,” George continued. “She wanted me to tell you that William is awake and talking.”

  I stared at him. “After so long? I thought for sure we’d lost him.”

  “I’m pleased to say that we have not. At least not yet.”

  “Thanks for telling me, George,” I said. “I—I’m going to go up and get a bit more rest.”

  “Are you sleeping well?” His eyes narrowed in concern.

  I smiled softly at him. “Not very well, no. But I’ll be fine. It’s just a lot to process—so much, in such a short period of time.”

  I didn’t tell him that nightmares about Tor and William and Anna had awakened me every night since the sentencing. Sometimes more than once.

  “I’ll bring you some bubbleweed paste tomorrow. Put it on some kelp and eat it after dinner, and it’ll help you sleep,” he said.

  “Thanks, George,” I said. “I don’t deserve someone as loyal and dependable as you.”

  He smiled at me and ruffled my hair. “I’ve worked for your parents since before you were born, Miss Jade. I watched you grow up. You deserve a lot better than what you’ve gotten these last weeks.”

  I closed my eyes. “Thank you, George. You mean the world to us.”

  “Go get your rest,” he said. “You need it in these trying days.”

  “Kora’s still keeping her distance,” I blurted out. “And, of course, I never want to see Rhea again. Pippa hasn’t spoken to me since the verdict was announced. And Mother is gone all the time trying to help the king maintain order in a city gone mad.” I felt sobs building in my chest. “I can’t take this, George. I just can’t.”

  My face crumpled, and I wrapped my arms around my body.

  He pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Miss Jade. It’ll be alright soon.”

  I sniffled. “How do you know?”

  “Well, it can’t get much worse, can it? That means it’s got to get better.”

  Part of me wanted to point out the flaws in his logic, but the rest of me just wanted to rest in his comforting, fatherly hug.

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  “Now then,” he said, releasing me and clearing his throat. “Take your nap, and when you wake up, I’ll have sweet puffs for you to eat.”

  I couldn’t imagine I’d be hungry, but I nodded and tried to look enthusiastic.

  He chuckled and patted my back. “You’ve never been able to fool me. But I think you might be more interested in them when you wake up.”

  I drifted up to my room, exhaustion weighing me down. I felt like I had to push myself through the water just to get up the corridor. I hoped I’d dream of George’s sweet puffs.

  Instead, I dreamed about Anna.

  “Miss Jade?” George called up the corridor. “You have a visitor.”

  I lay in my hammock, still not craving sweet puffs. Sorrow weighed on every muscle in my body, but curiosity and an ever-present sense of duty pushed me out of my hammock.

  I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a bit tangled, and I certainly didn’t look rested, but my wrap was still proper.

  I shrugged. It wasn’t like my hair mattered. I doubted my guest could be anyone important.

  I glanced down at the drawer in which I’d tucked the tablet, in the middle of a stack of clean tablets for drawing. If Cassian came back looking for it, there wasn’t much I could do to stop him. But I’d seen him look through that drawer already . . .

  I floated down to the main level of the house and stopped short. “Alexander? I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Now I wished I’d taken the time to run a comb through my hair.

  “I don’t have long. Remy still wants the shop open, if you can believe it, despite everything going on. I’ll need to get back there soon, but I wanted to see you.”

  “I’m so glad you came.” I crossed over to him. “I’ve been worried. Are you alright? I’ve heard about the riots.”

  He shook his head. “They weren’t riots. Not until today.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, people were upset. But it didn’t get violent until now.”

  “How violent?” I dreaded his answer.

  “About five or ten injuries last I heard, maybe even a death. I don’t know for sure.”

  I bit my tongue and wondered for the thousandth time if Mother had been right all along. Maybe everything would be normal if I’d just let Tor get demoted. My shoulders drooped.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he said. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

  “Maybe if I hadn’t been so eager to go to the inspect—”

  “If the circus of Tor’s murder trial caused this, it’s Tor’s fault—and the king’s, if we’re being honest. Not yours. Tor killed someone, and the king let it develop into a spectacle. You just tried to set everything to rights.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George glance at us and then move to the door. “I’m going to pick up a few things from the shop,” he called as he left.

  When the door closed, I said, “You make it sound so black and white. Like I was just the hapless defender of justice. Like I had no selfish motivations when I went to the authorities.”

  He shrugged. “What?
It wasn’t like you were trying to get rid of your fiancé.”

  “No,” I said. “I did like him. Before the murder, I thought I’d grow to love him, even. I was satisfied with the match.”

  “What made you turn him in?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was afraid, I guess. Panicked. It seemed like the only viable course of action.”

  “I think there was more to it than that,” he said. “If you were making the decision only out of fear, I don’t think you would have gone to the inspectors. What did you have to gain? It would never help your reputation. You would’ve known that Yvonna would see to that. You didn’t need the notoriety—as Cleo’s daughter, you already have the ear of the king if you ever need it. I think selflessness drove your actions.”

  I scoffed. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

  “I think I do.” He floated in front of me now and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. His intense amber eyes bored into mine. “I remember a girl who wouldn’t let the rich kids bully me at school, even when they made fun of her for protecting me.”

  “My social position was never at risk,” I said. “The ribbing was all good-humored.”

  “Didn’t always seem like that to me.” He gently placed his hands on my shoulders. “You’ve always defended people. It was . . . attractive to me when we were younger.”

  “It was?” I whispered.

  “Of course,” he said, reaching his left hand out toward my cheek but drawing it back before his fingers caressed my face. “I mean, I knew you and I couldn’t ever be a couple. It would’ve been scandalous.”

  I snorted. “Mother would’ve had your head.”

  “What do you think? Would it still be so scandalous, after everything that’s happened?” His right hand trailed down my arm.

  Heat rushed to my face. “What? Because my reputation’s already damaged?”

  He hesitated. “No, not like that. A cross-class marriage just looks silly and unimportant next to a murder.”

  I saw the truth written on his face, but I let it go. “You know as well as I do how insidious the gossip is in Thessalonike.”

  “Do you care anymore?” He pressed his forehead to mine.

  “Don’t take liberties.” I pushed away from him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, clasping his hands. “I thought you felt the same way.”

  I opened and closed my mouth. Do I? “Maybe I did, once. Before you left. But it’s been a long time.”

  He looked down at the seafloor. “I respect your feelings.”

  “Alexander, it’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it like?” His words were gentle, and disappointment and desire battled in his eyes.

  “It’s . . . the world is complicated. Especially right now. With everything going on in the naiad quarter. We’d have to leave Thessalonike.”

  “Why?”

  “The mer would never accept it if I got engaged to someone I loved in school so soon after Tor’s conviction. I—”

  “So you did love me?” His eyes twinkled.

  “No, I didn’t—”

  “You just said you loved me in school.”

  I glared at him.

  “Jade, for me, there’s never been anyone else. I know you have a lot more to lose in this than I do. I’m not risking anything but my feelings, and you’re risking your whole world. So I understand if that’s something you can’t do, especially after so long. But I’d go to the ends of the ocean for a chance to be yours.”

  I almost smiled at him. “You haven’t changed, have you? Always melodramatic.”

  “I prefer poetic.” He winked. Then his smile faded. “I really thought I would change. I thought I could forget about you if I stayed away long enough,” he said with a half-laugh.

  “I’ll think about it.” I held his gaze for a long moment.

  He drew my hand to his lips and kissed it. “That’s all I ask for.” He glanced at the tide glass. “It’s time I got back to the naiad quarter. If the chaos dies down and customers show up, Remy will have my head for leaving the shop unattended.”

  “Stay safe.” I squeezed his hand. “It would kill me if something happened to you.”

  “Then swim away with me.”

  I closed my eyes. “Please don’t ask that of me again. Not until I’ve had time.”

  He released my hand. “You stay safe, too.”

  He opened the door, and with a final, lingering look at me, he propelled himself into the canal.

  I stared at the wall in silence until George returned, carrying a basket of food.

  “You could do a lot worse,” George said as he unloaded the food, putting it into the cupboards. “Tor, for example, would’ve been a worse pick.”

  My head snapped up. “How did you know Alexander asked me?”

  He chuckled. “Wasn’t hard to read the look on his face, Miss Jade. I’ve had that same expression myself—lovestruck for a girl I knew I couldn’t marry.”

  “Really? Who was that?” I scooted to the edge of the hammock, hooking my arms underneath my fin.

  He looked rueful. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Of course!” I said, a genuine smile overtaking my face.

  “Lady Yvonna.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Lady Yvonna? The Yvonna?”

  A hint of a smile danced on his lips. “This all happened years before you were born, in the days when Yvonna put her resilience and determination to better use than she has in weeks past.”

  “But . . . Yvonna?” I couldn’t picture the two of them together in my head no matter how hard I tried.

  “We attended school together. She was a year younger than I and a member of a family that ranked among the lowest in the hierarchy. But they were still a noble family and therefore leagues above me. She swore she loved me, but I think we both knew it couldn’t last. When she received the marriage proposal from Felix, which vaulted her higher in the hierarchy than she ever could’ve dreamed, our mad romance came to an end.” He shook his head. “Seeing what she’s become, I suspect it’s better that way.”

  “Maybe not,” I mused. “Maybe if she’d made a different choice, she’d be a better person.”

  “Perhaps. Or maybe she’s not as bad a person as you think her to be. Tor did a wicked thing, but he’s still her only—”

  The door banged open, and Mother swam in, irate, murmuring something about the skub naiads under her breath.

  Benjamin followed behind her, his shoulders slumped. I looked at the tide glass and realized she’d pulled him out of school early. That bad, huh?

  George shot me a pained smile. “We can talk about this more later, if you want. Lady Cleo, may I be of assistance?” He floated toward Mother.

  I decided it was about time I left the house. I didn’t want to deal with Mother on the warpath, not with confusion about Alexander dominating my thoughts.

  She began ranting to George about how her whole life’s work of successfully adopting the naiads into the city was going to waste because of the riots.

  Slowly and carefully, I scooted toward the door, hoping to slip out unnoticed. I itched to swim with Kiki.

  “Jade, it’s too dangerous out there right now.” Mother shot me a sharp glance.

  “I’m not going to the naiad quarter,” I said. “But I really have to find Kiki. I’ve only been out there three times in the last month, and I’m sure she misses me.”

  She thrust her hands up. “Whatever. I probably couldn’t restrain you if I tried. But stay the depths away from the quarter.”

  Despite everything going on, I couldn’t stop myself from grinning, but I turned my head so she couldn’t see it. No point in irritating her or making her think I didn’t understand the severity of the riots.

  I hoped Pippa and Miriam were alright. I wondered if William had gotten better. Surely Pippa would’ve let me know if he was gone . . .

  And, of course, I worried about Alexander, too.

  An
xiety churned in my stomach. I couldn’t imagine how I’d answer Alexander. Clearly, I couldn’t marry him. Not unless we left to make a fresh start as commoners in another city. Marbella, I supposed. It was the closest.

  The mer in Thessalonike would think I’d staged the murder accusation—maybe even the murder itself—to get out of my engagement and marry my common lover who lived in the naiad quarter. Talk about a scandal that wouldn’t go away.

  I grabbed my father’s cloak—I’d learned that lesson—and bolted out of the house and toward the city gate. After about two blocks, I joined the murmuring throng of mer gathered in the canal.

  Another rally, I realized. Andronicus, the same charismatic mer who had led the last rally, hovered over the crowd, working them up into a frenzy.

  “The naiads think they can get away with setting up our most beloved captain of the guard for murder?” he yelled.

  “Expel them!” someone shouted from the crowd.

  “And now,” Andronicus called, “they’re protesting that they’ve been dealt with unfairly? They’re rioting like the animals they are!”

  My whole body went cold, and a sense of déjà vu disoriented me.

  “Why isn’t the king doing anything to check the naiads’ power?” he yelled.

  I didn’t want to provoke a repeat of the last rally’s events, so I darted down a culvert that connected to another canal. Any other canal. I didn’t care where it took me just so long as I escaped from the rally and its insidious hate.

  The culvert dumped me out into the canal that separated the city from the naiad quarter. My heart leaped into my throat. A deathly quiet hovered over the quarter.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I need to get out of the city. Kiki needs to know I haven’t forgotten about her. And I need space from all this madness.

  But almost as if by compulsion, I started across the canal toward the naiad quarter. When I got halfway across the canal, I stopped.

  I’m being crazy.

  I hesitated a second longer, then turned and flipped toward the city center so I could get to the city gates without going through the anti-monarchist rally. No need to complicate things further.