Rise of the Sea Witch

by Stacey Rourke

  “It’s not real,” I chanted. “None of its real.”

  As if the ocean itself longed to prove otherwise, a loud boom shook the castle, trembling the ground beneath me. It was immediately followed by a second, which sent pebbles of rock skittering down the massive bellies of the boulders that encapsulated the hall. The Summit Room temporarily forgotten, I huddled to the ground and pulled my tail in tight to my chest.

  “Not real!” I shouted hard enough to strain my voice as yet another explosion shuddered the sea around me.

  The faces would float in at any moment. Their hands tearing at me, vacant eyes pleading with me to hear the tales of woe that prevent their wayward spirits from moving on.

  “Vanessa!” Alastor’s voice was a fog-horn through the chaos, guiding me back to safer shores.

  I wanted to reach for him, or—at the very least—sit up. Unfortunately, another jarring explosion anchored me where I was, whimpering whilst the hilt of my sword dug into my gut. Not my finest hours, kids, but also far from my worst.

  Alastor dove alongside me, gathering me protectively in his arms as his belly skimmed the ocean floor.

  “Hey, hey,” he soothed against my ear, “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  My fingernails scraped red streaks across his well-muscled chest, scrambling to cling to him. “Alastor! Is it real? Can you see it?”

  I will say this for the servant’s son, he aged well. The sharp set of his features gave him a dangerous allure. His hair had darkened to the sky’s deepest shade of amber right before the sun bows its head for the night. Most merman let their locks flow long and free. Alastor kept his knotted at the base of his neck. He used the edge of his hand-me-down sword to keep his threatening beard at little more than a rough stubble across his jawline.

  Water rushed over our fins, yet another ear-piercing strike blowing a chunk from a neighboring boulder. Cradling the back of my head, Alastor held me in the secure cocoon of his embrace. Bubbles from his exhales tickled over my cheeks, still I dared not move.

  “I can see it,” he assured me in a raspy whisper. “It’s really happening.”

  Alastor knew my secret. He was well aware of the cost that came with my magic. The decision to tell him had not been one I made voluntarily. His mother had been ill. Despite royal decree, and her better judgement, she sent Alastor in her stead one night to turn down my bed. He found me cowered in a corner, openly sobbing, after a particularly horrifying vision. I was only fourteen at the time. Since that moment, he had truly become my best friend, the one I trusted him above all others with the ugliest parts of myself. Only he despised my magic as much as I did.

  Confidence building that this wasn’t a freakish apparition, I risked a glance up. My gaze traveled the length of the hall, searching for clues of the cause of the ruckus. “What is it?”

  “It’s the humans. If I had to guess, I would say Lemurians followed a fleet back to Atlantica.” As he spoke, he turned over one of my arms and then the other, inspecting me for signs of injury. “We are no longer the myth beneath the sea to them. We have now become the menace that sinks their ships and pillages their bounty. Really, we left them no choice but to attack. Which they are doing by training their cannons directly into the water and blasting for all they’re worth. I wish some of them would dive in and go head to head with us, even the odds a bit.”

  My nose crinkled at my suddenly insufficient sword. “They can rain fire from the sky and we can counter only with pointy sticks. If only someone had warned the Council of such an outcome. Oh, wait … I tried.”

  Alastor’s arm flung up to shield my head as another rumble sounded and bits of stone pelted down. “Such boisterous judgment from the girl I found hunched on the ground.”

  Ignoring his barb, my hands seized his arms with a forceful desperation that could bruise flesh. “Triton! Where is he?”

  Extracting one arm from beneath me, Alastor laid a comforting hand onto my white knuckled grasp. “He wanted to wait for you, but I forced him on to the Summit Room with the assurance I would usher you there the moment I found you.”

  Reluctantly, I released my hold and brushed his arm aside. Steeling my spine, I rose from the ground with one flick of my tail. “You can’t. You must find your mother, and stay with her. I don’t like her being alone at such a time. She must be worried sick not knowing where you are.”

  Gliding to my side, Alastor’s fingers linked with mine. “She knew without question where my heart took me the moment that first trumpet blasted.” The emerald glow of the room hugged the rise and fall of each and every taut muscle of his chiseled chest, concern sharpening his features with a dangerous edge. “Promise me you will offer the Council your opinions, not your magical influence.”

  Jaw tensed, I managed a nod. “Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy my visits with the dearly departed. The warning against magic is a moot point.”

  My rebuttal was punctuated by three back-to-back blasts. One of which tore through the wall to our left, allowing beams of red from the fiery attacks above to brighten the hall with a hellish spark.

  Enveloping me in his embrace, Alastor shielded us both under his arms. “You’re sure you won’t let me escort you to the Summit Room?” he ventured, his lips brushing my ear, “Even if it’s to ease my own mind?”

  Pulling back, despite the pleas of my heart, I forced the mask of neutrality years of training had perfected. “Your mother needs you, and I couldn’t dare show up with a bodyguard and maintain even an iota of respect from delegates.”

  Alastor’s hands fell to his sides, the temperature of the water plummeting at his retracted touch. Anguish and a begrudging understanding sliced deep creases between his brows. “As you wish. Just promise to be safe, Vanessa, and hurry back to me.”

  Unable to promise such lofty things, I turned away from his expectant stare and swam on with hot tears burning behind my eyes I would never dare shed.

  “Princess Vanessa, so kind of you to join us in the midst of a raging attack,” the newly promoted Chief Master Neleus snarled the moment I swam into the room. “If you’re going to be this late for an emergency gathering, you should be dead or dismembered.”

  Have you ever disliked someone with such intensity that the simple act of talking to them left a sour taste on your tongue? That sums up how I felt about Neleus. “I’ll try harder to accommodate next time.” Screwing my lips to the side, I tapped my chin with one fingernail, feigning innocence. “But … if I hurry, how will I keep up pretenses that I’m allowing you boys to figure out matters on your own?”

  Over his shoulder, my mother shimmered into view. A shiver skittered down my spine. What skin was left on her face was stretched tight over protruding bone. Pressing one gnarled finger to blackened lips, she shushed my disrespectful tone. A blink, and she was gone.

  “Vanessa!” Poseidon thundered, cracking his trident against the ground. “In what way is insulting our most decorated soldier considered helping this situation? Apologize this instant!”

  Dragging his tongue over his top teeth, Neleus stabbed his hands on his hips and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Grinding my teeth to the point of pain, I forced the vile words passed my lips. “My deepest apologies, Chief Master.”

  A smug smile crept across his once handsome face. I hated the majority of the war-torn effects from our ongoing battle with the humans. Loathing was an insufficient word to describe how I felt about the rickety table of rotting timbers which replaced the magnificent stone structure that had been the centerpiece of the Summit Room. For starters, the pilfered table—seen as a treasure only because it was pillaged from the humans—was wood. In the water. Do you have any idea how hard it is to gracefully slide into a chair that is constantly trying to float out from under you? Bothersome objects aside, I hated that the stress of the sieges seemed to age my father another five years every time I saw him. As of late, gray strands decorated his brilliant red hair. War was suckling the life and youth from the
once regal king. That said, there was one warfare side effect that brought great joy to my twisted little heart: the way it had beaten and ravaged Neleus.

  The mermaids of Atlantica no longer chased after him or sighed wistfully behind his back. No, they reserved that for Triton alone—gag. When it came to Neleus, they avoided eye contacted and said a silent prayer to Mother Ocean that their families would not dare mention a marital union with him. A kinder natured mer than myself would have felt bad for him.

  The noble soldier, partnered with his platoon, once shimmied up the side of a ship only to meet the sling of a blade from one temple to the opposite jawline. An angry pink slash, jagged like a thunder bolt, forever sullied his once dashing features. One seafoam green eye, which once held the powerful charisma to charm most any unsuspecting mermaid with a glance, drained to a hollow, milky white. It may have been cruel, but I found it fitting that his outside now more closely resembled the monster lurking within.

  Appeased by my apology, Father soothed one hand over the wiry hair of his beard. “Did you see your step-mother to safety?”

  “Doralious and his squadron escorted her to her quarters. They will wait there until given further notice.” Pulling out my chair, I took a seat at the table. Judging by the snooty looks I received, if the rest of the Council members had their way, those would be the last words I spoke. Unfortunately for them, I had every intention of further ruining their evening.

  “Very good.” Father leaned back in his chair, one arm draping over his armrest. “Let us begin before the Lemurians bring this castle down on top of us.”

  Agonizing silence and patience had won me a seat at the table. Since my last birthday, I had secured my place there by biting my tongue on any and all matters discussed. It was a painful endeavor I despised to my very soul. Sure, it often meant sinking my fingernails into my scales to stop myself from lashing out about one inane topic or another, even so I succeeded. Triton endured no such struggle. Every meeting his eyes went glassy, and I could practically see the minnows that powered his simple, little brain swimming round and round.

  That day, I had no doubt, would be different. Our kingdom was under attack, the world as we knew it crumbling. I refused to remain silent a moment longer. Biding my time, I listened for the ideal moment to wriggle my way in.

  “I will start by saying that there is no prize in engaging the humans now. No bounty to pilfer.” Holding one hand out, Calypso—the representative from the Caribbean—adjusted a giant bauble ring situated on her middle finger. “Therefore, I see no benefit in engaging my soldiers. If we hold fast, they will tire and move on.”

  While the guilt from the attacks on Atlantica and the loss of mer lives sagged Poseidon’s once proud shoulders and cast deep shadows beneath his sunken eyes, Calypso seemed immune to the perils of war. The fifty-fifty split she bargained for on the spoils of ships her soldiers pillaged elevated her from a lay-about rock dweller to a mogul dripping in diamonds and pearls.

  “At the cost of how many innocent lives?” Father slapped his hand to the table, causing the weary oak to groan in protest.

  Leaning back in my chair, I folded my hands over my stomach and considered Calypso through narrowed eyes. There was nothing about her I trusted. She was more of a pirate than the men crumbling our walls with their cannon fire. Atlantica floundered, yet she prevailed. If it wasn’t so dastardly, I would have appreciated her tactics. Her ploys were blatantly obvious, and she never even bothered to conceal them. Somehow, her slick tongue and clever wordplay convinced the Council she was acting in their best interest. I didn’t buy it … but I admired it.

  “We can weather this storm and continue on course.” Resting her elbows on the table, Calypso steepled her fingers in front of her. Her nails clicked together in rhythmic ticks. “We have come so far and achieved so much! If we let the humans distract us from our goal, they will lord over us forever! As of this moment, they are learning to fear these waters. They sail with leery gazes focused on the sea. Soon, we will rule the oceans while they tremble on the shoreline. We will be masters of our domain that no longer dread those fish-eating Ruffians. Until then, it is the opinion of the Caribbean mer that we bathe in their treasures and send every ship we can to Davy Jones’s locker. They stole Poseidon’s first queen from us; we owe them retribution.”

  My stare snapped to my father. At the mention of my mother, his pupils fixed and dilated like a Great White smelling blood. Calypso hooked him, using his most painful memory as bait. Adjusting his grip on the trident, he thumped it twice against the ocean floor. If he agreed with her and called the meeting, all would be lost. The moment to act was at hand … and my hands were clammy with nervous sweat.

  Scooting back my chair, a puff of sand rose around me. Floating to full height, I met the questioning glances of the Council members with an absolution that was betrayed by my hammering heart. Triton’s bulging gaze pleaded for me to keep still. None-too-subtly Father mouthed the words sit down. Ignoring the outpouring of family support, I pressed on.

  “I believe we can agree that it is in all of our best interest for this war to end in a timely fashion.” Hands behind my back, head held high, I swam the perimeter of the room in the self-aware posture of the Indian Sea Mer. “We long to see Atlantica returned to the glory and traditions it prospered in before the humans’ first attack two long years ago.” Pausing behind the representative from the Gulf, I leaned one elbow on the back of his chair, letting the tips of my fingers brush his bare shoulder. Their culture was rooted in the bond between beings, making it no surprise when that simple contact softened his dubious expression. “We want revenge for the loss of my mother. We seek to punish them for every net they have cast.” Letting my palm drag over the back of the chair before falling to my side, I flutter-kicked on until I positioned myself at the head of the table opposite of my father. “However, there is one avenue we have completely failed to consider … the request for a peace summit.”

  The room exploded in uproarious protests which were drowned out only by equally passionate shouts of accord.

  To my surprise, Father banged his trident against the table, calling them all to attention. “Whether we agree with her sentiments or not, I believe Princess Vanessa has the floor.”

  “She’s not even a Council member,” Calypso sneered, eyeing me with contempt.

  Poseidon silenced her with a look stern enough to make the tide rescind. Only when a respectful hush fell over the room did he grant me the nod to continue.

  Bolstered by the encouragement of the king, my tone became ironclad conviction. “The humans didn’t want this war any more than we did. They rely on our fish for food and our waters for safe travel. They fight us because they fear us—for good reason.” Mimicking the zest of the Mediterranean delegate, I tossed her a playful wink. The effort earned me a light-hearted chuckle, and possibly another supporter for my cause. Clasping my hands behind my back and jutting my chin out in the regal elegance of the Arctic Mer, I resumed my rotation around the table. “However, if we were to send word that we wanted to meet for a peace summit, if our king were to convene with theirs, perhaps we could convince them we seek an alliance … not war.” Pausing beside the Atlantic trustee, I bent to whisper against her ear, “Stunning gown!”

  Batting the compliment away with a flick of her wrist, a flattered blush warmed her cheeks.

  Catching Triton staring, his head listing to the side as if he didn’t recognize me, I cleared my throat and swept the room with a trusting smile.

  “If we could get them to lay down their weapons,” I locked stares with the mer from the Pacific—who expressed his disinterest by twirling his lip piercing with the knuckle of his forefinger—and my voice morphed to unforgiving ice, “they would be completely vulnerable, giving us the perfect opportunity to rally every soldier and strike. By banding together, we could plunge the entire island of Lemuria to the depths.”

  Genuine appreciation raised the Pacific representative’s brows, m
aking the scrolled tattoos along his cheekbones stretch taut.

  Lacing my fingers to prevent myself from fidgeting, I faced off with Poseidon to await his judgment of my assessment.

  “You spoke out of turn today, Vanessa,” he rumbled, twirling the trident between his palms. “That was a bold and risky move for someone seated here as a guest alone.”

  Something within me began to shrivel, a dying flower thirsting for one beam of the sunshine of his acceptance.

  “However,” he mused, stilling the whirling trident, “your idea shows a great degree of foresight. While risky, if executed properly, it could come with great reward.” To the room, he boomed, “All those in favor of the peace treaty distraction leading to an offensive strike?”

  One by one, hands raised … Triton’s being the last and most hesitant. Only Calypso kept her hands folded tightly in her lap, scowling miserably that the vote did not turn in her favor.

  “Congratulations, Vanessa,” my father stated, his eyes crinkling in the corner. Was that what pride looked like on his face? Such a thing had never been directed at me before. It held the same blinding effect of staring directly into the sun. “You successfully formulated your first military maneuver. Let us all pray to Mother Ocean that it’s an effective one. Neleus, gather my commanding officers. Our strategizing will begin the moment they arrive. Until then, meeting adjourned.”

  A final bang of his trident dismissed the group. Bubbling with giddiness, I was the first out the door. Eagerness to report back to Alastor with my accomplishment spurred my fins ever faster. I was passing through the Hall of Records, with its row after row of shelves containing chronicled scrolls and tablets, when Triton shouted my name.

  Beaming broad enough to make my cheeks ache, I whirred on my brother.

  One mighty stroke of his tail and he floated beside me, not returning my smile. Instead, the corners of his mouth dipped down in an uncharacteristic frown.

  “You played each and every one of them,” he accused in place of a greeting. Harsh judgement cast dark shadows over his usually breezy features. “Manipulating them by reflecting some element of their culture back at them. I just want to know why. You have so much more to offer. Why would you lower yourself to cheap stunts like that? Was it just so they could see something of themselves in you? It was sneaky and underhanded, Vanessa. Are those the methods Amphrite has taught you?”