Breakwater

by Catherine Jones Payne

  “Wait.” I reached up to caress his face, my fingers tingling. “You don’t have to leave with the naiads. I’m not saying you have to wait five years for me. And if you meet another girl, that’s okay, but surely—” My voice cracked. “—we can give it a few months? A year? See what happens with the anti-monarchists?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Depths, Jade, don’t you see? You’re so fixated on doing the right thing that we’ll never be together.”

  “How do—”

  “Your martyr complex won’t allow it.”

  I drew back, and my voice sharpened. “My . . . martyr complex?”

  “You overthink every little thing because for some reason you don’t think you deserve to be happy. Well, guess what? You’re not the only one in this relationship. And if you won’t let yourself be happy, that affects me, too.”

  We stared at each other, and my face crumpled.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “If I really thought there was a chance, I’d stay.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “Go in peace.”

  He bowed. “And peace be upon you.”

  I thought my heart would shatter when he swam away, his fin flapping in slow, halfhearted jerks. Goodbye.

  After he disappeared around the corner, I made my way back to the house. When I opened the door, Mother pulled me into her arms, and I sobbed into her shoulder until I didn’t feel anything anymore.

  As the first rays of sun cut through the waves two mornings later, I heard a soft knock on the door. I didn’t stir from my place at the table. Mother answered the door.

  “Pippa?” she said. “Do come in.”

  I looked up. “Hey,” I said softly.

  She set her basket down and shifted from foot to foot. “I—I told the guards that I was bringing mending back to you. Just in case they ask you about it later.”

  Mother nodded. “Of course we’ll vouch for you. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve come to ask a favor.”

  “Anything you need,” I said, my voice cracking. I stopped and cleared my throat. “Anything at all.” My voice was stronger this time.

  She played with the hem of her dress. “I can’t move on with everyone. I can’t set out and hope that we find something better. I was wondering if I might be able to stay in Thessalonike, under your employment. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t know that other mer will give me any work after—”

  “Done,” said Mother. “And you’ll live with us so that you won’t be accosted moving back and forth between the naiad quarter—or, I suppose, what will have once been the naiad quarter—and our home.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  “We have three extra sleeping chambers.” Mother waved her hand. “And while I can’t promise that we’ll be able to keep you safe forever, I think the people’s anger at the naiads will ebb once the main group leaves. I’m sure I can persuade the king to drop these ridiculous restrictions by the time the year is out, especially if there aren’t many naiads remaining in the city.”

  “I think only about two dozen of us mean to stay,” she said. “Even the elderly are going. They’ll lose a lot of them on the journey, I’m afraid.”

  Mother’s shoulders drooped for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Do you know if Alexander is going with them?” I asked.

  She hesitated for a moment. “Yes. About five mer are going. Mer who lived in the naiad quarter for a long time and have built their lives with us. Alexander is among them.”

  Even though I’d expected it, the news plunged into my chest like a blade. I rested my cheeks in my hands and stared at the floor.

  Mother reached her hand out toward me. “It’s for the best. It’s better that he moves on. That way, you can, too.”

  Pippa held out a tablet wrapped in seaweed. “He wanted me to give you this message.”

  I grabbed it from her and held it tightly in my hands, but I couldn’t bear to look at it. I tucked it under my arm to read later, in private. “Thank you for bringing it to me. Could you excuse me a minute?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Mother glanced at the tide glass. “Don’t take too long. We have our audience with the king in an hour to discuss the tablets Yvonna brought you.”

  Pippa raised an eyebrow, and Mother waved me up the corridor as she began recounting the pieces of the story Pippa hadn’t yet heard.

  I fled up the corridor. When I reached my room, I hesitated for a moment at the window, staring toward the walls of the city and wondering if he’d stay if I rushed to the quarter and begged him to change his mind.

  But I couldn’t.

  I unwrapped the tablet.

  My dearest Jade,

  I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, but I didn’t trust myself to be able to do it in person without begging you to come with me. As I told you once, my whole heart has always been, and ever will be, yours, but I want you to know that I understand.

  You defend those you care about. It’s in your nature. And I know you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you were always worried about the people you love back in Thessalonike, wondering if you’d endangered them.

  I have to go—not just for myself, but so that you don’t have to live torn between love and duty. Please understand that I leave with no ill will and only the sort of passing anger that vanishes in a strong current.

  May the tides keep you safe, and I wish you only joy.

  With all my heart, Alexander.

  I pressed the tablet to my lips and stared out the window again. “I love you,” I whispered. “Go in peace.”

  After a few minutes, I glanced at the tide glass and tucked the tablet in the drawer next to my dolphin pendant. With my head held high, I floated back down.

  “Thank you,” I said to Pippa, my voice still unsteady.

  She smiled softly at me.

  Another knock sounded on the door. This time, I answered it.

  Maximus floated there in full guard regalia, his fingers clutching the handle of his club.

  I pulled myself up short. “Oh. Hi. What are you doing here?”

  He opened and closed his mouth.

  I went cold. “What is it?”

  “The king wishes to summon Lady Cleo immediately,” he said. “Yvonna’s been killed.”

  Jade’s journey continues in Crosscurrent.

  A black tide is swelling.

  In the wake of a horrific massacre, the naiads have chosen to leave Thessalonike, and the merman Jade loves is leaving with them. But the naiads’ departure can’t quell the city’s political tensions or satisfy Jade’s enemies.

  After disaster strikes, Jade must face sea dragons and the fathomless deep as she journeys to Marbella. There she learns that Thessalonike’s infighting is the least of her world’s concerns. A new empire is rising in the ocean, and it will stop at nothing in its quest for dominion.

  Can Jade survive the churning current of fear and violence, or will it drag her to the depths?

  Keep reading for the first chapter of Crosscurrent . . .

  Yvonna’s dead.

  It was still surreal. I’d seen Yvonna just the day before. And even though there had never been any love lost between us, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the fact that she was gone.

  Mother, Maximus, and I approached the king’s court. The seabeds here boasted some of the most elegant coral gardens in the city, but the vibrant colors and curious fish couldn’t lift my spirits.

  Mother waved Maximus off. “Give us a moment before we go in to see the king.”

  Maximus placed a fist on his chest, bowed, and swam to the other side of the palace courtyard—far enough away to prevent eavesdropping but close enough that he could keep an eye on us.

  “Now.” Mother’s intense brown eyes bored into mine. “Let me do most of the talking. The king will want a detailed account of your conversation with Yvonna, and
you should answer his questions truthfully and in as much detail as possible. Just remember that he will be most interested in using this situation as a way to embarrass and weaken Felix.”

  “So, keep my mouth shut if he seems more concerned about politics than justice?” I stared over Mother’s shoulder at a bright yellow anemone gently waving in the current.

  She pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t say it quite like that. Just . . . this is neither the time nor the place for you to . . . vocalize your disagreements with some of the king’s recent decisions—or anything he might say today.”

  I grunted. “Don’t worry, Mother. I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

  A small purple fish darted past us.

  “It’s not embarrassment I’m concerned about.” She grabbed my arm. “He’s been growing more and more paranoid as of late. I know how to tread water around him. You don’t. So let me persuade him. You stick to the facts.”

  I folded my hands and nodded, and Mother gestured for Maximus to rejoin us as we swam into the king’s court.

  When we entered the imposing hall, two of the king’s advisors were already gathered around him. I followed a tail-length behind my mother, clasping my hands as we approached the king’s throne.

  When we came to a halt, I allowed myself to glance around. The room looked much emptier than the last time I’d been here, when the king sentenced my ex-fiancé Tor to a year under house arrest for the killing of a naiad servant girl. The same impressive carvings of our greatest histories adorned the walls, but they seemed less lifelike without the buzz of tension animating the room.

  The trial had been controversial to say the least—the naiads were horrified that Tor’s sentence was so light, and many of the mer were outraged that he’d even been brought to trial at all. After all, he’d only killed a naiad.

  I wanted to sink them all off the drop-off.

  I ran my fingers over the tablets in my hand. Tablets Yvonna—Tor’s mother—had brought to me. As it turned out, Tor had killed the naiad to silence her allegations about his father’s illegal naiad slave-selling.

  When Yvonna had found out about the trafficking, she couldn’t stay silent. Yet, she’d tried to protect her husband, even as she betrayed him. She’d made me swear that I’d use my mother’s influence to ensure that everything was handled quietly and that Felix didn’t face serious punishment or public shame for his slaving. But even so, she’d paid with her life.

  When we reached the king’s throne, I floated just behind my mother.

  “Cleo.” The king nodded at Mother. “Thank you for coming.”

  He made eye contact with me over Mother’s shoulder and cocked his head to the side. “Lady Jade?” He glanced from me to Mother.

  Mother nodded. “Forgive us, Your Majesty, but Jade and I were to meet with you today with some important information about Felix. I’m afraid it is even more relevant now that Yvonna is dead.”

  He massaged his temples. “Very well. Lady Jade, you understand that anything you hear today will be kept strictly confidential, and you will not reveal our deliberations to anyone even if your silence costs you your life.”

  I nodded. What would’ve seemed like overly dramatic language two months earlier had become deadly serious after the unrest wreaking havoc on the city of Thessalonike.

  The king turned his attention to Advisor Barnabas, a wizened old merman I’d harbored a particular dislike of since childhood. “Continue.”

  Barnabas pressed his fingers together, and the deep lines on his face grew taut. “You must promise a swift and severe investigation. Someone must be banished to maintain order and restore confidence in the system, or the whole net will unravel.”

  Advisor Galena, a middle-aged mermaid with dark green hair and a slim build, shook her head. “It’s not so dire as that. Investigate, to be sure, but now that the naiads are leaving, it may be best to blame it on them. A revenge killing, since Yvonna worked so hard to help her son get away with that naiad’s death.”

  She glanced at me, and I shifted uncomfortably. I’d initially reported Tor’s crime to the inspectors, and part of me still felt like I’d caused the wave of violence that had overtaken the city—riots, a massacre of naiads by the Royal Mer Guard, and now Yvonna’s death.

  But I steeled myself. I knew who had killed Yvonna. Or at least I was pretty sure.

  The king peered at me from beneath his dark, bushy eyebrows. “Do you have something to say, Lady Jade?”

  My gills flared. “I . . . no, Your Majesty. I believe my mother’s better suited to explain what we’ve come to say.”

  My mother ran her fingers through her cerulean hair. “Felix had cause to murder Yvonna—or have her murdered, anyway. I doubt he’d have done it himself.”

  The king tightened his lips. “Do you have evidence of this?”

  My mother floated to the side and gestured me forward. “Yvonna came to see Jade a few days ago. Jade discovered that Felix had kidnapped several naiads over the course of the last year and sold them as slaves, and she told Yvonna.”

  Barnabas and Galena looked at each other, their eyes wide and their shoulders stiff.

  The king’s eyebrows rose almost all the way to his hairline. “The disappearances?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  I extended the tablets to the king. “As you might expect, Yvonna didn’t believe me at first, but she decided to look into my allegations and discovered them to be true.”

  The king took the tablets from me and perused them.

  “She was, of course, torn between loyalty to her husband and horror over his actions. In the end, she brought me evidence of his crimes and entreated us to ask you to deal with him quietly. We agreed to her terms so we could stop Felix’s crimes and make an attempt at rescuing the missing girls.”

  Mother pursed her lips. “Of course, that was before he killed Yvonna.”

  Galena raised her left arm. “If I may be so bold—”

  “One moment,” said the king. “Lady Jade, tell me more about your meeting with Yvonna. Was there anything else that made you think that Felix was behind Yvonna’s death?”

  I hesitated. “He’d struck her, Your Majesty. When she first confronted him about the disappearances. She seemed afraid of him. We . . . well, a friend and I asked her if she needed any help, but she brushed it off. Acted like it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “A friend? So someone else was there when you spoke with Yvonna.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Go on.” His fingers drummed on the coral arm of his ornate throne.

  Closing my eyes, I said, “An old school friend. But he’s preparing to leave with the naiads, so I’m afraid he’s not here to corroborate.”

  Alexander.

  The thought of his lips pressed against mine sent quillpricks of bitter regret shooting through my body. But it was for the best that he was leaving.

  As the monarchy—and Thessalonike’s whole social structure—found itself in turbulent waters, it was becoming more and more likely that I’d be forced to make a practical marriage to secure powerful allies. Alexander, a laborer who hadn’t even finished school because of his family’s poverty, could do nothing to protect my family if a coup destabilized the city.

  My voice shook. “But given the way Tor lashed out at Anna and . . . ”

  “And?” The king stared at me.

  My gills flapped as I looked from the king to Mother. “Tor attacked me, Your Majesty. He tried to kill me, shortly before the . . . incident in the naiad quarter.”

  Mother whirled to face me. Magma smoldered in her eyes, but she remained quiet.

  The king tilted his head. “Well, I’ll need a full account of that.”

  I stared down at the floor. “I-I’m not accusing him formally, Your Majesty. But if you need to know what happened, I went to speak with Tor after my conversation with you, in which you suggested that peace in the city might be strengthened by a rekindling of my engagement to Tor. At this point, I
knew of some evidence that suggested that Felix was involved in the naiad disappearances, but we didn’t have enough information to go to the inspectors or to you.”

  The king threaded his fingers together.

  I shuddered. “In the course of the conversation, I made Tor aware of what I knew. His reaction confirmed my suspicions—then he tried to strangle me.” I loosened my wrap from around my neck and pulled it down just far enough to show the bruising that still remained on my skin and over my gills. “After he . . . changed his mind, he left me in the courtyard. Yvonna found me there, and I told her about Felix’s horrifying business dealings.”

  Tor had changed his mind because he’d realized I’d brought a dagger with me, but I didn’t see any reason to explain that to the king. The use of a blade in violence—even in self-defense—was anathema inside the city walls, lest blood in the water bring sharks upon the city.

  “I see,” said the king. “That certainly suggests that we ought to question Felix closely.”

  Rage still contorted Mother’s features.

  “Your Majesty?” I said.

  He nodded at me to continue.

  “I-I swore a vow, and I still must ask that you handle the kidnapping charges quietly. I’m not bound to ask anything good or bad for Felix in relation to the murder of his wife. But I’m still bound to the word I gave Yvonna.”

  Mother squeezed my arm and muttered, “He deserves to be castigated in the canals.”

  “I acknowledge your request, Lady Jade,” the king said. “Do you feel you’ve fulfilled your vow?”

  “Yes.”

  He waved his hand. “You are dismissed. Maximus, see that Lady Jade gets home safely.”

  Maximus moved forward, clasped his fist over his heart, and bowed. I didn’t look at Mother as we left.

  When Maximus and I emerged in the canal, a shakiness overcame me, and I grabbed his arm to steady myself. “Excuse me,” I murmured. “Just give me a moment.”