“No.” Long lashes swept down to veil his eyes. “I thought to start the process of restitution, a first step to convincing you once again that I can be trusted with your heart.”
I stared at him, wanting to believe, but...
“Is this a ploy so that I will agree to having a personal guard again?”
“No, but I understand why you might think so.”
“It does seem a bit fantastical. Four years of barely talking to me and now this sudden reversal? What even prompted you in the first place?”
He looked away, long fingers clenching and unclenching against his hip.
I shuddered. His hands were so like the human male’s. Large, with elegant bones even in the water, and lacking the transparent webbing between his fingers.
broken mirrors and spilled water
“They taunted me for my perspicacious cowardice in the barracks,” he said finally, his reluctance adding grit to his words. “How clever, they said, to know to build my career by catching a princess. No need for heroics or even common bravery. They said that my future was made, that I need only wait for you to undertake your coming of age quest and then we would be married and I would be the fumaye. Well done, they said, to ensnare you so young, so that you wouldn’t know any other male outside of your kin than me. No need to face the sharks in the depths, no need to outwit the giant octopi. All I need do was wait.”
My fingers braided together and tensed at the mingled anger and humiliation in his voice.
“I thought I’d give you time and space. Allow you to blossom without my forcing anything with proximity and expectation.”
The tiny muscles in my fingers threatened to cramp. I closed my eyes, forced out a deep exhale to clear out all the air in my chest, and shook out my hands. Part of me wanted to deny him, to attempt to hurt him the way he’d wounded me. But what would be the point?
“Nothing’s changed,” I said, punctuated by a thin stream of bubbles.
I dashed my hand through the water between us. It must be nice to be a land-dweller. To be able to sigh without an extravagant accompaniment to your grief.
“You’re still the only mer I’ve ever considered mating. I still have yet to complete my quest. I’m still not free of you, if that was your goal.”
There would still be those who would taunt him, those who would murmur sincere congratulations worse than insults. So what gain except torment?
“Untrue,” he said, low and soft. “You no longer trust me. I’m no longer the one you run to, the one you know will keep you safe. And they know it. All know it.”
Every inch of me froze at the regret in his words, the echoed reverberations of his pain resonating to the grief I’d tried to bury in the deepest parts of me, waking all that I wanted to keep hidden.
“And I’ve changed.”
I looked up at that, swinging my head around to pin down his gaze. “Have you?” I murmured. “Are you no longer the mer that thought it acceptable to give me pain in exchange for so-called growth? Have you grown strong enough, brave enough, that the taunts of weaker mer no longer plague you? Are you resigned to being forever known first as fumaye, husband to the princess, rather than a position you’ve fought for yourself?”
Darkness roiled in his eyes. He shifted, bowing that so-proud head until his forehead brushed the top of my hand.
“Allow me the chance to redeem myself, Elle. I’m sorry for hurting you. A hundred thousand apologies would be insufficient, but at least let me start.”
Haidai danced in the currents, wavering just as my heart did. Could I trust him? Did I even want to try?
Xin had hurt me. So much. I’d cried for hours the first time. For hours again when I realized it wasn’t a passing fancy, that he really was determined to set me aside like a child would toss away a toy they’d outgrown. Then every single time he’d pass that cool gaze over me, my heart cracked just a little bit more.
He looked up, pink mantling over his cheekbones, eyes uncertain, and my heart trembled.
“It’s only always been you, Elle. I haven’t even ever thought of another. I was a fool to let them goad me into it and I’ll regret it forever.”
Only...ever been me?
My head tilted. I blinked at him. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
Xin nodded.
I stared at him, caught between bemusement and wary joy. Should I? Could I let it go?
In the end, I couldn’t resist asking, “But you didn’t think it necessary to sample the bounty, as it were?”
His answering grimace was sheepish. “Hypocritical of me, yes.” Strong shoulders moved in an expression of discomfort as much as one of dismissal. “When I think of sharing myself, of expanding the boundaries of intimacy, of having merlings, you are the only mer I want to explore those experiences with.”
I blew out a slow stream of bubbles. “I see.” I wanted to say that I felt the same. Four years ago, I would’ve. But things weren’t the same even if they could be mended.
What was it the land-dwellers said? A broken mirror cannot be mended; spilled water cannot be gathered once more.
Perhaps on land. But we of the ocean knew that all water returned to the sea, be it sooner or be it later.
The question was, what wisdom did I choose to believe in? Was my trust a broken mirror, or was his love the ever faithful rain?
“Will you let me try to make it up to you?”
I looked at him, my fingers braiding into knots of their own volition.
Why not?
My hands relaxed and a small smile curved my mouth, tasting of all the shy reluctance I never felt as a girl.
“Persuade me,” I offered.
The calls of the dolphin drew me to the surface.
I’d remained within the city boundaries for the last moon, wary of venturing out even though I knew there was no way he could have found me. Even less of a chance that he could capture me if he found me.
A mer in her element was not one even sharks trifled with and I wasn’t about to go upon land any time soon. Perhaps not within his lifetime, tides willing it be brief.
Our cities were well hidden deep in the ocean, away from prying human eyes. Even if any human managed to descend to the depths at which we built our homes, the barrier kept all intruders away. Then there were the city guards, especially those under Xin’s command. I couldn’t see any he trained allowing malice to intrude upon us.
And yet.
My sisters had started remarking on it. My brothers were worried and relieved in equal measure. My parents... King-father and queen-mother hadn’t asked me any uncomfortable questions yet, but I had no illusions about them not knowing.
Or maybe they were distracted by how Xin chose to pay court to me. I could only hope.
For he had started courting in earnest.
He brought me the tiniest yinyu, held alive in tiny coral cages so they’d be the freshest possible for my breakfast. Nests of the tenderest seagrass shoots in shimmering baskets pieced together from abalone shell.
Then there was the fruit. I couldn’t imagine how he traded for it or with whom, but he kept surprising me with the most exquisite morsels, all presented in delicate boxes of iridescent spun glass.
Cunning puzzles of gleaming gold rings and shapes were hung from my hammock for me to discover, some of them that solved out to become pendants or earrings. Clever of him, to find ways around the tradition that forbade the giving of jewelry and clothing as courtship gifts.
Every gift was accompanied by a message on my mirror, a note of how he thought of me when he acquired it, what birthday or milestone it was meant to celebrate, or a memory to go with the fruit he chose.
Xin didn’t ask for forgiveness again after that afternoon. Nor did he ever give me his courting gifts in person or ask if I liked them.
It was strange, to the point where I felt as if a shark had chafed against every scale on my tail.
How was I meant to think and feel if I never saw him?
> Although there was that one time after Fourteenth had come by and flounced away again after I refused to talk to her about why I was hermiting.
Xin had come to my nest again, come close enough to look deep into my eyes, his scrutiny intense and thorough. He stayed silent, only brushing those land-dweller hands down my arms before leaving again.
I could tell that not knowing was driving him a bit mad, just as it was eating at my siblings, but I didn’t dare tell him anything. Either he’d be honor bound to tell my father, or he’d have to deal with my fears himself, and I didn’t want him anywhere near the land-dweller I’d rescued.
Twenty odd days in the city, longer than I’d ever gone without swimming with the dolphins on the sun-kissed surface of the sea after I was old enough to swim alone.
Surely, I thought, surely he’d forgotten by now. Perhaps he even thought I was a product of his near-death delirium.
So I answered the high-pitched calls of a dolphin in distress, not thinking that it could be a trap.
But when I reached the surface, there was only a single-sailed boat instead of the struggling shadow I’d seen from below.
Cold rushed through my veins and I dove for the depths. I sent out a desperate call, exhorting any of the blood to help me.
But too late. Shadow ensnared me, tendrils of it twining around me, taking away the air in my lungs, and I fell into darkness.
The last thing I saw was his face, triumphant and full of glee. The beloved face behind which hid such treachery. I’d known they were different men, but I hadn’t known just how different they were. Xin’s honor went bone-deep - I couldn’t see him harming the innocent even if he didn’t owe them his life. This man...this...
Shadow wrapped fully around me and I closed my eyes, regret burning through me.
thread of a chance
Water woke me, a clean splash of sparkling power jolting me from the dark.
“Hurry. Hurry up and wake up,” a low voice chanted near my ear.
I forced my eyes open, vaguely aware of my limbs crumpled under me and a droning thunder in my head.
Not-Xin. Pain. Why limbs? A sea folk’s first instinct whenever wounded was always to shift back into our sea form. Why would I have expended the additional energy needed to manifest limbs? Why was I on a ledge in a box and why was it swaying?
I turned my head. A land-dweller girl crouched beside me, below the ledge, dark eyes intent upon me.
“Good. You’re awake,” she whispered. She held up a small blue bottle. “There’s more seawater in here. I don’t know if you want to drink it or if you just need to dump it over yourself or if it even helps. They’re taking you away from the sea and I’m sorry I can’t save you because the king has some witch helping him and there’s a lot of guards but if you give me a message about who you are and how I can help, I might be able to...help, that is. I’m sorry I can’t do more but I can’t pick locks and they’ve got you tied down pretty securely.”
The girl’s quick words made my head throb harder and her strange words and odd intonations made it hard to pick out her meaning amidst the drumming, but I’d heard enough.
“I am Hai Qianya, Eighteenth daughter of the Dragon King of the West Seas. Who are you?”
I bit down hard on my tongue to force tears to my eyes.
“Kateri,” she said breathlessly.
“Kateri,” I repeated. A single tear fell from my left eye and I spun power into it before it hardened into pearl, binding her name along with mine. “Take this pearl to the shore, where the sea meets land, and say my name seven times. Someone should come for you.” Hopefully it would be Xin, who had walked amongst the land-dwellers before and whose hands wouldn’t draw attention. I let the remaining two tears fall into my hand alongside the first one, two glossy spheres of palest gold contrasting with rainbowed black. “Take these too, you may need them.”
The swaying slowed.
I dropped the pearls into her hand and she folded her fingers over them.
The girl’s eyes rounded, her gaze spearing to the flap of material that seemed to serve as a sort of door for the box. No. Not box. Carriage. It had to be a carriage.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay. Got it. Is that all I need to do? What if they don’t hear me or they don’t listen?”
Okay? Got it?
I shook off the distraction.
“Tears may help. Or blood. But truly, my name should be enough.” My family and all those who dwelt in the our sea would be more than aware of my abduction by then, the water itself conveying my distress to my father.
All Kateri was needed for was to give a direction.
“Okay. They say that seven tears in a circle on a stone draws selkies, but I guess that’s not you.”
Footsteps came towards us, the even thud concaving my chest and compressing my breath.
“Right. Gone. Bye.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “I’ll do my best to come back again and see if I can help once you’re out of the chains, okay?”
And then I was alone in the box, the ominous footsteps coming ever closer. I picked up the small bottle, fumbled with the cork, and threw back the contents. My head cleared further, thank the Tides, but it wasn’t nearly enough. There was a dullness within me where my power usually resided and I feared what would happen if I tried to reach for my sea form.
It was almost a relief when the cloth was pushed aside and Not-Xin pushed his head in, a mean glint in a narrowed gaze.
“You’re awake,” he accused. “The witch said that you would be quiet until we reached the palace.”
Palace? Surely not.
“Witch!” he roared.
Light glittered strangely between us and darkness fell over me again.
No. I had to...
“Please, let me go. I’ll die on land.” I put power into the words, more than I’d ever used before, but it slid off him like water from an otter’s pelt. I tried to call the water in his body, to drown him where he sat beside the bed, but nothing. A charm glinted at his throat, the gold sparking bright as it absorbed my magic.
My stomach twisted. He’d come prepared for every eventuality. I should have tried something, anything, before his witch put me to sleep.
“No, you won’t,” he said, his eyes covetous.
“I saved your life, and this is how you treat me?” I moved uneasily on the bed, shoving at the cushions, feeling like a beached whale, ungainly and out of my element. He’d taken my hands too. Yet another violation. When we of the sea took a lander’s form, we kept our hands as a matter of pride, as a tool we refused to disavow simply to blend in. Instead, now I had stubby lander fingers, the delicate webbing shrunken away to nothing, the appendages dead to the world around me except for the barest of sensations. I would’ve wept, but no. Even that weapon was barred to me when I wasn’t sure if I would cry salt water or pearls.
Besides, I wasn’t sure if my tears would excite or distress him.
He sat by me, green eyes rapt upon my face, searching.
Excited and aroused, most likely, as there was a strangeness to his cruelty.
Dark hair curled over his forehead and he brushed it back with an impatient gesture. He reached out a hand, drew it down my face, then rubbed his fingers together as if memorizing the feel of my skin.
I held back a shudder and the urge to bat his hand away, schooling my features to bland distress.
“Of course I am grateful. Grateful and more. You will be my queen. You will have my love and everything I have to offer.” He said it in a low sing-song, his tone dreamy, his gaze intense and yet unfocused, as if he saw something beyond me that I didn’t.
I studied his face, looking for the difference between Xin and this so-called king, and now that I wasn’t blinded by surprise, I saw the minute dissimilarities. Not just the color of the eyes, but the king’s face had a malicious cast to it fully conscious that hadn’t been evident when his face was slack. The same high, sharp cheekbones, that angular face, but there was
no softness to his lips, no gentleness in his gaze.
Never again would I see Xin in the king, and never again would I be tricked by mere physicality.
“I don’t even know you. And you, you changed me. What have you done to me?” It wasn’t a hard trick to insert just a note of hysteria, just a fillip of fear.
I was terrified, but I couldn’t know if I should let him see all of my terror, if it would place me in greater danger or garner me more clues.
The witch shouldn’t have been able to call my change to my other form and it had to be the witch. If he had that much magic, I would have been able to taste it when I first saved him. She had somehow triggered my other form and bound me to it.
Rage and terror choked me, again, and I forced my breaths to slow, to deepen.
When I’d first woken again and found myself tucked into a soft land-dweller nest far away from the sea, I’d fought down terror and rage to try shifting, but that ability was blocked from me. It wasn’t any difficulty then to give in to my anger and fear by frantically hurling objects and sobbing loudly until he came running in.
The challenge was in not succumbing to the fear while using it.
“I had to find some way to be with you, my sweet. I am a king and my duty to my country precludes my joining you in your world, and so you must join mine.” He brushed a lock of hair away from my cheek, his tone soothing.
His eyes narrowed, the green turning to ice. “Are you not happy? Are you not pleased to be with me, not thankful for my love, not properly appreciative of what honor I’m doing you?”
I fought the instinctive narrowing of my eyes. Of course, he was happily ignoring the fact that, duty or no duty, the last time he’d been near my world, he’d nearly died.
His tone laid the path I had to take. To defy him now was to court disaster.
“I, but my... How?” I gestured at my legs under the nightgown, hoping to see just how much he knew of the sea folk. How many liberties he’d taken with me while I was unconscious.
There was, to put it delicately, no access between my legs. The gates of heaven were shut. The flower not in bloom. The witch had done me one favor at least.
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