by Ros Baxter
Lecanora smiled warmly at him. ‘Like us,’ she said.
‘Mm.’ Doug’s response was short, and his eyebrows were drawn down. ‘But me and Larry’s not gonna be enough in this little team. We need some extra skills we just ain’t got.’
Rania dragged in a deep breath and went pink in the face.
Doug went on quickly. ‘Shit, sorry, and you, Sheriff. Of course you. Oh, and my man Telmei, here. He looks like he could hold his own.’
Telmei looked up from the soup he had been slurping for the first time.
‘Not me, friend,’ he said. ‘I am sorry, but I am going back. As soon as I take in this sustenance. The Queen needs me.’
‘Oh no, Telmei,’ Lunia said. ‘You damaged yourself, Herald. Back there on the road. You cannot return yet. It would be a terrible risk.’
‘Maybe we can worry about that in a minute.’ Doug was clearly not finished his train of thought. “‘‘What we really need is someone who’s good at covert. Someone sneaky, and with a good network.’ Doug’s voice trailed off, getting quieter, like he was talking mostly to himself, thinking it through. ‘Someone who gets disguises, deception. We might need to hide, we might need to break some rules to do what we gotta do.’ He stopped, and looked at Rania.
Rania looked back at him, and Lecanora tried hard to see what was racing through her mind. She could see it, spinning frantically, making the connections with whatever Doug was thinking. Eventually, she nodded at him.
Lunia’s eyes moved rapidly between Rania and Doug, then widened. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘No, Doug. No way.’
Doug appealed to Lunia with eyes the color of the chocolate cake Rania was now forking into her mouth, frowning. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Aqualina,’ he said. ‘I know you two got some history. But we need him. We’re going to have to break Arty out.’
* * *
Lecanora wandered up slowly to the guard station, just as she had been instructed.
‘Hi guys,’ she said, trying to inject the same sounds into her voice as the ones Rania used. The accent, Rania called it. She tried to do it just like she had practiced. ‘So Rudy sent me. Said you fellas might need some entertaining tonight.’
The two men stood up quickly, taking in Lecanora in the small, tight shift and high heels, one of them bumping his head on the tiny shelf above the computer as he did.
‘Well, hi there honey,’ he said, puffing up his sagging chest and sliding open the small glass window. ‘I guess old Rudy sure was right. Slow night tonight, and we kin always use some entertaining.’
The smaller guard looked less sure, as he hung back, squinting forward at Lecanora through suspicious eyes. ‘I dunno, Clay,’ he said. ‘Remember we got that directive from management saying no unauthorized guests? Remember after that body went missing back in town? It’s all gotta be by the book now, son.’
But Clay was already unbolting the heavy door and waving Lecanora in out of the rain.
‘Come in darlin’, come in, ‘fore you get a chill. And what did you have in mind for us?’
This was Lecanora’s cue, once she was in. She was to send the thought right into Rania’s brain. Her sister was hiding with Doug in a thick stand of trees about fifty yards away and would pick it up right away.
She was to say now.
And they were going to come with their big black guns, and subdue the two guards, steal the keys and go fetch Rania’s father.
It was the big black guns that were the problem.
Land people thought those things solved everything, but in Lecanora’s understanding they caused more problems than they fixed. So she wasn’t calling now.
Not just yet.
She was going to see if there was another way to do this.
‘Well, how about we start with a little song?’ she asked.
Lecanora had been interested in what she could do with sound, ever since Zorax, the choirmaster, had told her about his experiments with sound, the experiments that had inadvertently been the genesis of the terrible sound weapon that Manos had been using against them. Merfolk of Aegira had always known the power of song, and had always been able to use it to distract, but they had never tested the outer limits of that power.
Lecanora took a seat on a small swivel chair between the two men and started to speak in a low, careful voice, slow and hypnotic. ‘You boys must get so bored, sitting in here together, night after night. Do you like music?’
Two sets of eyes fixed on her face as she spoke to them, big and dull, lulled by her voice.
Two heads nodded in dumb unison.
She felt a small thrill of triumph wash through her.
‘Oh, you’re going to love this one, then,’ she said, taking their rough hands in hers as she started to sing. She worked on a sad old funeral dirge; a song about moving to the next plane, a place beyond the waves. She let her voice rise and fall with the chorus, but she concentrated on winding the one, perfect note through it all.
A note that would keep the men still.
After two verses and three choruses she stopped, gently. The two men stayed where they were, rooted to their seats, their eyes glued to her face.
She carefully raised a hand, and their eyes did not flicker. She waved the hand in front of their face. Nothing.
She tried clapping. Still nothing.
Only then did she call out to Rania with her mind: now.
In seconds, Doug and Rania were at the door, long, black pistols in their hands. They were panting, and Lecanora could almost smell the adrenaline.
She stretched a little and stood up.
‘Leave them,’ she said quietly. ‘They are preoccupied. Now. Shall we go through and fetch your father?’
Doug looked at Lecanora with his mouth open. ‘How did you?’
Lecanora smiled at him. ‘I sang them to sleep,’ she said.
Rania crept forward and mirrored the action Lecanora had performed, one hand waving in front of the guards’ unblinking eyes. ‘But how long will they…?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Lecanora said softly. ‘Until I return and wake them, I think.’
‘Like Sleeping freakin’ Beauty,’ Doug said. He touched Lecanora lightly on the arm. ‘Way to go, honey. Remind me never to take you to karaoke.’
Lecanora laughed too, although she did not understand exactly what Doug meant. It sounded like a nice place to go, though. Kar-a-oh-kee. She looped a hand through Doug’s arm, and one through Rania’s, and guided them, and their big black guns away from these innocent men, resting peacefully somewhere not in sleep and not in waking.
Way to go, Princess, Rania said into her brain. You really are full of surprises.
Lecanora’s breath caught at the love and admiration in Rania’s voice. She smiled at her half-sister.
I am not you, Rania. I am not a warrior. But what is that terrible saying of The Land? There is more than one way to skin a cat? She shuddered. I have some uses.
She held up a small plastic folder filled with electronic keys.
‘I think we’ll need these,’ she said, as she headed for the main door.
In less than a minute, Rania was unlocking the door to her father’s suite. It should have been a cell, but Rania had explained to Lecanora how her father, the small-town gangster-turned-lifer had used his free time to study law and petition for all manner of allowances, including an extra-large prime piece of Dirtwater jail real estate (and unlimited access to the games room).
When they opened the door, Arty was lounging on his king-sized four-poster, flicking through screens with a tiny remote and sliding between views on his iPad with the other hand.
‘Bella!’ He jumped up as soon as he saw Rania and put his arms around her. ‘Whatcha doin’ here? I didn’t expect you back yet?’ He looked next at Lecanora and Doug. ‘Well hello, young lady, you must be a friend of Rania’s.’ He swept his squat, muscular frame into a graceful bow. ‘Very pleased to make your acquaintance. Arty Aqualina.’ He then grimaced and nodded towards Doug. ‘Doug,’ he gr
unted.
‘Arty,’ Doug grunted back.
‘Now,’ he said, patting his bed. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure? And how come the old cretinos out front let you in so late?’
‘Er, Dad,’ Rania said, sitting down carefully but talking fast. ‘You know how you said if I ever need help?’
Arty nodded, templing his fingers.
‘And that stuff about how no four walls could hold you?’
Arty nodded again.
‘Well, we’re getting you out of here,’ she said. ‘Tonight.’
* * *
Lecanora was feeling light and almost giddy as they moved swiftly out the front entrance. She motioned to the others to go ahead to the cars as she slipped back in to the little guard station to sing the men back to the moment.
Rania shot her a look, dark eyes hesitant and full of concern, but Lecanora waved a hand at her. ‘They’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll wake them, and then in a couple of moments they’ll be back to themselves and we’ll be fine.’
As she sung the last note, she saw the men open their eyes.
Just as she also felt a thick, strong hand cover her mouth from behind, and an arm wrap around her neck like a vice. In her surprise, she stood up and upended her chair.
The two guards barely blinked. They were slowly coming back, but it would take some time. She twisted and bucked, but the arm would not move. He was strong. Aegiran strong.
‘Stay right where you are, Princess,’ a whispery voice crackled into her ear. ‘Or I’m going to cut you right here.’ As the voice spoke, a cold blade pressed against her throat near his hand. The big man started to drag her slowly out the door.
She reached for Rania’s brain. Help.
But it was not Rania who came. Seconds after her appeal, she heard a soft oomph and the arm slid from her neck. She screamed as she looked down and saw a black-clad figure slumped at her feet, blood oozing from his stomach.
Doug was there, grabbing her arm, a long silver blade of his own dripping in his hand. His face was very still, and very serious. ‘We need to run, Princess,’ he said. ‘Can you run as good as you sing?’
Lecanora took a second to register what had occurred before grabbing the proffered hand and running behind Doug, who was surprisingly agile and fast for a Land man. She followed him into the stand of trees that laced the prison, and then he stopped and listened.
‘Flatten,’ he said, pushing her to the ground and covering her with his body.
Lecanora lay still, hardly daring to breathe. Above them, a low noise in the background worked its way into her brain.
A soft, but unmistakable sound. Feet marching, but somehow, softly. Many feet.
Coming towards them.
Chapter 6
An offer you can’t refuse Aegira
Carragheen stood in one place next to Imd, as still as he could, watching the line of arrivals snake away beyond them both, queuing up to be greeted by the Queen, floating in a lane of golden water. The sparkling pathway lit the way for those who waited to be seen. The queue trailed off into the mid-distance, framed by the graceful golden arches of Aegira. The glow afforded by the low buildings framed the simple scene.
A Queen, and her guests.
A Queen offering haven.
Normally this ceremony would have taken place inside The Eye of the Goddess. But the Queen had forbidden entry to the place since a rip had formed in one of the massive walls of water that framed the peaceful underwater lagoon.
Carragheen remembered the moment well: the Princess darting forward to rescue Tila, his baby sister, from the suck and rush of the rip, and then emerging, her head bloody but his sister safe in her arms. He owed Lecanora a debt he could never repay.
A rip in The Eye seemed impossible, but they knew now it was the call sign of Manos. He had returned. He was determined to cause them harm.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
He knew it was a long way beyond protocol, but he planted a careful thought into his Queen’s mind. Are you sure you strong enough to do this, my Queen?
The Queen inclined her head ever so slightly towards Carragheen as she reached out to touch the eyelids of the Leigon in front of her. ‘Welcome, friend,’ she said, her voice soft and light as she ran her fingertips over the scarred eyelids. ‘From where have you come this day?’
The Leigon brayed back at her in his guttural tongue. ‘From beyond the western reefs, Queen,’ he said, his huge head tipping forward as far as he could manage.
‘Arise, brave one,’ she said. ‘And fear no more. The seas have become a desperate place.’
‘Forgive me,’ the massive, ox-like fish said. ‘But we never had wars such as these until recently. We, my tribe, we believe it is…’ His long slash of a mouth trembled as the words fell away, and he placed hands with blood-red nails across his eyes.
The Queen placed a gentle finger on his chin and tipped his head up. ‘We know, friend,’ she soothed. ‘We know who it is, and we know why it is happening. We must all stand together. Here in Aegira, if that is what is required. You are welcome to live among us, and seek protection here. And to fight beside us, if it comes to that. And if you so choose.’
The huge creature tipped his head back and let out a howl-like bellow. Carragheen felt the tiny nerve endings on his arms stand to attention at the Leigon’s battle cry. ‘My body is yours, Queen,’ he said, ‘in return for the comfort your nation has shown my tribe.’
‘Well,’ the Queen said, smiling gently, ‘let us hope it will not come to that. None of us wishes to fight this day. Or any other.’
As the Leigon swam off, Carragheen again tried to count the number of souls waiting in the line. There were at least a hundred new arrivals queuing before the queen, and he knew she would insist on greeting each of them, offering them words of comfort. Even in profile, he could see the strain in her eyes, so notable because it had only appeared so recently. A thousand years old, and never a wrinkle. But now…the world weighed heavily on this young-old Queen. And her pain at the absence of her daughter was like an aroma that clung to her.
Carragheen motioned to a young woman was who was swimming in place behind him a good micro-league or so back from him and the Queen. In a second, she was at his side, silver hair fanning out prettily around her, full pink lips smiling prettily at him. She was clad only in a sigh-sheath, the loose dress that ebbed and flowed like the current on your frame. It was not made for long swimming out of the city, but for moving about inside it was light And pretty, he acknowledged, watching the way it fanned around her, its delicate translucence doing nothing to hide the impressive curves and planes of this maid.
‘How can I help you, Carragheen?’ Something in the way she said it made him look twice at the queen’s newest maid, the replacement for Rila who had gone mad and died after teaming up with Manos and trying to kill them all—the Princess, him, and Imogen, the stolen choirgirl. And Rania, he thought, feeling his body tense. Rila had tried to kill Rania also.
Carragheen tried hard to remember this new handmaiden’s name. She was like a thousand Aegiran girls he had known before—sweet and compliant, beautiful to a point that almost made your eyes ache. And yet even like this, widening her eyes at him and swimming in a lazy figure eight in front of him that he was sure was designed to accentuate the unusual fullness of her breasts, he could barely register her.
‘Can you fetch something for the Queen?’ He was aware that he almost barked the command at her, but he had no time for little girls making big eyes at him.
Not now, not ever.
There was only one woman he wanted to see.
Only one woman whose eyes he wanted to make wide and wanting. A woman who would never dance invitingly in front of him like that. A woman more likely to kick him to the floor, and stick a gun between his eyes.
He smiled at the thought.
Well, perhaps she was not so likely to do that anymore. And anyway, she was a long way away from him. The thought made
his head ache, as he tried not to wonder what Rania was doing, whether she was safe, if the things that were happening here had followed her there. He turned his attention back to the girl, and tried to force a smile as he motioned towards Imd. “‘The queen needs sustenance, she is tired.’
The girl dipped her head and swam quickly away.
Carragheen tried to think of a way to coax the Queen back to her quarters as he watched her treading water regally on the spot, waiting as the creature at the head of the line made its way towards her. Imd turned to him. ‘Her name is Tatiana,’ the Queen said.
Carragheen shook his head. Who did she mean? The young cephalopod making its way towards them, now at the front of the line?
‘The girl,’ the Queen smiled. ‘My new aide. The one you just dismissed so…casually.’
Carragheen almost groaned. Women. Did they miss anything? Certainly not this one.
‘I am sorry if I caused offence, Queen,’ he said. He wondered if she would also know he wasn’t. Not really. He’d had a lifetime of girls making eyes at him. Right now, all he wanted was to hold the one he loved.
‘She is very sweet,’ the Queen finished gently, turning back to the latest arrival.
Yeah well, I don’t do sweet, Carragheen grumbled to himself.
Don’t mutter, Carragheen, the Queen commanded. Even in your mind. It does not become a leader such as you.
Carragheen felt his hackles rise. A leader? Oh, she had it all wrong. He was far from a leader. He had agreed to watch the queen, protect her, but he wasn’t some creeping ground fish like those other aides of the queen. It wasn’t so long ago that he and his pool had made the whole nation crazy with fear. He stretched in his place and wished he could be back at the pool now, entering that little chamber and feeling the fears and doubts rush away, feeling only the connection to life, time and self.
He tried to put such thoughts out of his mind. He knew now that the Queen would find them. He tried instead to focus on what was happening. These were dangerous times. He brought his awareness to the young cephalopod moving forward to be greeted by the Queen. Carragheen only knew the creature was there because he could see the shiny edges of his form ripple in the slight current.