by D. K. Combs
She turned on her tail, expecting them to just let her go.
But of course, nothing was ever that easy.
“D’Mari, the king expressed wish that you would stay in your quarters. The ceremony will begin soon, and then you may come out. We…do not wish to offend you while we prepare.”
“Ceremony?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at them. She slowed. For what?
“For the Exiled One,” he answered as if he had read her mind.
“What is going to happen at this ‘ceremony’?” she demanded, turning around quickly. The other two guards, the ones who had been gossiping, backed away from her, fear widening their eyes.
“The execution. He has offended our king by coming here, and offended you as well. It is time he paid for his crimes,” he said harshly. Mari could only stare at him.
“What crimes?” she asked, completely astounded. “Actually, forget it. I need to go. Follow me and I’ll…I’ll turn you into a whale.”
She turned away from them sharply, urgency going through her. She had to find Ambrose. Had to get him out of there. He couldn’t just leave her there, alone, and then watch him die. Had he known this was going to happen?
Mari’s chest tightened with a fear that went soul-deep.
She didn’t bother to listen for the guards. The quick look she had gotten of their faces had told her that they wouldn’t bother following her. She could have laughed that they believed her, but fear for Ambrose held her silent.
The halls were endless. She swam her way down them, retracing her steps from earlier. Thankfully, to her godly speed, she found the throne room in less than a minute. The guards that were stationed throughout the palace were absent—probably preparing to kill Ambrose.
Dread washed through her. God damn it, she couldn’t believe he would do this. Wouldn’t it be easier to kill the king and take back the throne? The guy hadn’t seemed very dedicated in the first place!
Her thoughts cut off when she threw open the door the throne room.
Completely empty.
She shot toward the large throne, then found the pillar they had gone through. There was no sign of a door, or latch, or anything. Swallowing, thinking she had memorized the wrong one, she waved her hand out.
It passed through the pillar, the marble wavering as if it were a rippling pool.
“I feel like I’m going to Hogwarts,” she muttered to herself before squeezing her eyes shut and walking into the marble.
She met no resistance, but an odd feeling passed over her.
Mari slowly opened her eyes, looking around her.
“Holy. Shit.”
She had entered into a large, breathtaking room. The ceiling was luminescent, forming a dome above her head. Her jaw dropped as she stared around her. Glistening like hundreds of little diamonds had been embedded into the walls, it was one of the most magnificent rooms she had ever seen in her life.
And Ambrose was somewhere in here…
It was the thought of Ambrose that took her out of her stupor.
There was no sign of another door, so Mari touched the wall. Maybe it was like the marble out there, just an apparition at one part. It was the only thing she had to go by, so Mari brushed her fingers over the glittering wall, a thrill working it’s way up her hand as she did.
It was like the magic of the room was flowing from the wall to her, invading her senses. Mari was so distracted by the sensation that she almost missed the wavering of the image when her hand passed through an empty space.
She had to stay focused. Ambrose’s life was on the line.
Mari passed through the wall, and was greeted to the gothic version of what she had just been through. Instead of blinding white diamonds, the corridor she entered was bedazzled with red and black stones.
She walked through it, feeling unease creep through her.
The corridor went on for forever. Mari didn’t know how long she was in it, swimming her way through it as fast as she could. After a couple of minutes, she almost decided to turn around, thinking that there had been another entrance and she had taken the wrong one.
Mari stopped moving completely, holding her chest against the panting and the unease that was slowly growing with each breath.
She had to turn back—there was no way that she was going to get to the end of the tunnel. After the pillar and wall trick, she was beginning to think that this tunnel was a trick as well.
Hissing. There was something hissing.
She whipped around, fear catching the scream in her throat and holding it back. She scanned the dim tunnel, heart pounding, palms beginning to heat.
“I’m going insane,” she muttered to herself, swallowing down the anticipation. “Freaking stupid emo fish need to get a hold of themselves.” The Atlanteans, as a race, needed a make over. With flowers and rainbows and blues and pinks. There was so much darkness that she was choking on it.
She froze when she heard it again.
It was closer. A small orb of light began to form.
Déjà vu struck her for a second, making her frown.
“Akrina?” she asked, moving forward slightly.
The little ball shot away from her, and she glowered, following it. “Akrina,” she whispered, reaching out a hand. “What are you doing? Get back here!”
Mari was just about to touch it when it disappeared completely, leaving her in the dim light of the tunnel. The gems in the wall gleamed at her mockingly. Frustration made her sigh.
“That little shit…” she began.
“…too late.”
Mari’s ears perked up. Kai?
She moved forward quietly, trying to be as soundless as possible. Only a couple more feet and the tunnel ended abruptly. Mari hid behind the edge of the exit and peeked her head out of the door, narrowing her eyes as she took in the surroundings.
The room that the voices came from was oval. Sitting on the outskirts of the almost court-like room were four large chairs that were occupied by four terrifyingly beautiful creatures.
All four of them had white as snow hair, glowing red eyes, and...the same tail that she had. Exactly the same tail. The red down the sides, the double-fin...the only thing that she didn’t have, that they did, was the hair and the tattoos. Two woman were on the right side of the dais, and two men were on the other.
Shock held her still, entranced. The water around them sizzled with their power, drawing Mari into them. The aura of danger and age that surrounded them called to her, rushed through her like a physical need. She forced herself to stay still, to look away from them.
“You honestly think that the people will accept you as king again?” H’Sai hissed, taking an aggressive step towards Ambrose.
Kai was between them, looking more fed up than worried. Ambrose had a more stoic look on his face, and she couldn’t have been any prouder.
Then she realized what he had said.
Again?
Ambrose had been king once?
“You betrayed us, killed our families, and ruined our city,” he continued, the sneer that overcame his features twisting the withering flesh. “What makes you think you would be welcome here?”
“When the gods sent Mari to me,” Ambrose said, as easily as if he were explaining what he breathed. Mari’s heart fluttered, her stomach following.
“And how do you know that for certain? What kind of ‘sign’ is that, Ambrose? A rotten one, if you ask me. The second you sunk Atlantis, we lost loyalty in you. Don’t expect to get it back.”
Ambrose sunk Atlantis? Mari’s head reeled. He couldn’t have—Ambrose wouldn’t do something like that, it just wasn’t him.
“Ambrose,” one of the females intoned.The low, emotionless voice sent a shiver down Mari’s back. “Why do you not tell him what happened? You stay silent and let this man slander your name. Why?”
The way she asked it made Mari think that she already knew why. Ambrose’s jaw clenched in response, and he remained silent.
“What are
you talking about? All of Atlantis knows what happened!” H’Sai shouted, stomping his tail against the ground furiously. The silken robes on his body quivered with his rage.
“Tell us, Ambrose,” the other female demanded, her body shifting in the seat. The move was so elegant, and so smooth, she seemed to move with the water and not against it.
“You already know,” he said, voice hard.
“Ah, but H’Sai does not,” one of the males said, his eyes taking in the scene with indifference. Did none of them know how to show emotion? The whole time, their faces were rock hard and unmoving.
“What don’t I know?” the annoying man asked. Mari had disliked him from the start, but now she wanted to throttle him. How appealing it was for her to just reach out, wrap her hands around his throat, and just shake him till his old fish heart stopped working?
Way too appealing.
“That Ambrose didn’t sink Atlantis,” Kai muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and groaning. His shoulders fell back tiredly and he looked at H’Sai as if he were the most boring creature in the ocean. “You’re really fucking stupid if you think that Ambrose, after all he did to protect Atlantis, would turn around and destroy it. What kind of step-in king are you?”
H’Sai sputtered, then looked at Ambrose and Kai indignantly. “I kept Atlantis going for two thousand years—much longer than he has!”
“Is that all you can think about? This little cock show you have going on with Ambrose? Atlantis is dying. I can feel it, you look it, and the gods know. What kind of work did you do while Ambrose was locked up? You might be my friend, but I’m loyal to the heir.”
H’Sai stared at Kai with wide eyes, betrayal shining in them.
“I can turn it around,” he said, even as Kai shook his head, running a hand through his long golden hair. “Sorry. No. You can’t. Even if you had had the chance, you wouldn’t have bothered. I tried to get you to take control for years, but you wasted the time on your throne. Now that Ambrose is back, things can finally be done. We haven’t advanced at all with you.”
H’Sai opened his mouth to speak, but one of the Atlanteans in the chairs spoke up, their voice resonating through the room. “Ambrose will have his throne back willingly or by force. What do you prefer, H’Sai?”
Mari saw the same shock she felt on Ambrose’s face.
H’Sai was silent, staring at Ambrose with a brewing hate that she could feel from her spot.
“Force. He can have the throne by force.”
The gods nodded as if they knew what he was going to choose.
“So be it. A week from today will be the fight to see who is worthy of the throne.” Then, dismissing the king completely, they turned to Ambrose. “We suggest that you spend time getting to know your people. Soon, the story of how Atlantis fell will be spread all throughout the city.”
Ambrose stared at them.
“Take Mari with you...and look out for Ceto. She is waiting for her chance to attack. We figured you would want to take care of her yourself, though.”
She saw Ambrose tense and her stomach dropped. That bitch was still tormenting Ambrose, despite how far they had gotten.
Mari swore that when she saw Ceto, she was going to kill her. No if, ands, or buts—that goddess was going to get god-smacked.
Ambrose walked away from the dais, frustration boiling inside of him. The gods were up to something—he could feel it. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have said anything about the real cause of Atlantis sinking. Something kept telling him not to say anything about Ceto, to stay quiet and wait.
H’Sai hadn’t believed a word Kai had said, but Ambrose did admit that it seemed like the step-in-king only cared about who looked tougher—or, who felt tougher. H’Sai had once been an incredibly strong and formidable warrior; so formidable, in fact, that Ambrose had made him his first in command.
They had been friends for years, always having each other back and being the first to go into battle. He had thought their bond was inseparable, a true one, but he now knew it for what it really was. H’Sai had always had issues—Ambrose had known that from the beginning. He had hoped, though, that with time the man would change. He never did.
That had been more than apparent at the trial. He had stood there, watching Ambrose’s world crumble, and had done nothing except stand, taking the robe from around Ambrose’s shoulders, and then leaving.
The final straw had been drawn, and his life had been sentenced to one of torment. The only people to be there for him had been Maxroy and Aixya, but that hadn’t stopped the betrayal and pain over whom he had thought were his friends and family.
He left Kai and the rest of them back there, striding through the exit—
And running into something.
It squeaked, and he caught the red flash of tail as it shot down the tunnel.
Instantly, his vision turned red.
“You aren’t serious,” he growled, shooting after Mari. He swam through the trail she had left, narrowing his eyes. Sweet Atlantis, she had gotten faster—and quieter.
Forgetting about the meeting completely, Ambrose pushed himself harder...and gripped the base of her fin, yanking her back. “I thought,” he snarled, “I told you to wait with Deimos. I was going to come for you. Don’t you know how to wait?”
His shout blasted the hair back from her face, emphasizing how large and terrified her eyes were. “I was just curious...”
“Mari,” he snapped, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Some things need to stay private—if I had wanted you to know all that shit, I would have taken you with me! Gods damn it, Mari. If I’m supposed to take back the throne for you, how can I have you by my side when you can’t trust me.”
The final roar of his shout echoed through the cave hollowly. Mari flinched, turning her face away from him. “I didn’t know...”
“Because you aren’t supposed to,” he snapped, tightening his fingers around her shoulder. “Do you know what the gods would have done, had they seen you? Killed you on sight. You might look like one of them, and might have the powers of one of them, but you are not one of them. Listening in on a conversation in that room is considered treason, whether you know our laws or not.
“Even I couldn’t stop what they would do to you,” he snarled, loosening his hands on her shoulder when he saw her flinch.
“Ambrose, I’m really sorry.” And she was—he could see the sorrow in her eyes, the guilt.
“This won’t happen again,” he said tightly, shoving away from her. “If you get killed for insolence, I will never forgive you. Learn some damn common sense, Mari. This is not a dream, not a fantasy, and most definitely not a game. If you want to have a life, you play by the rules of the ocean. You got that?”
He watched her throat work before she nodded. There was no light in her eyes, no fight. The anger drained away as quickly as it had come, and shame took over, digging deep, painful roots.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured. Ambrose wanted to take her into his arms, to hold her against his chest. He wanted to feel the beating of her heart against his. He shouldn’t have yelled at her like that—the outburst had been born of fear and embarrassment.
He had wanted to be the one to tell her, in private, the reason why he had been exiled. There was no greater shame than not being able to tell the story yourself and hurting the one you cared about most. And that was exactly what Ambrose felt right now—shame.
The hurt in her eyes killed him.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, shoulders lowering with defeat.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, before dragging her into his arms. He expected her to fight him, but she didn’t. She went into his arms easily, as if knowing that he had to touch her. Ambrose didn’t deserve this—she was so beautiful, so loving.
Even after she had betrayed him, he could not stay angry. He knew why she had and understood. He had shared nothing about himself with her, when she had told him about her family, her teaching. She didn’t des
erve to be kept in the dark.
“I did not mean to get so angry,” he said into her hair, wrapping her tighter against him. He felt the soft exhale of water against his shoulder and shuddered. So innocent and sweet, so not ready for a life under the ocean. “I won’t ask for your forgiveness again, Mari. I’ll make it up to you—all week long, I will show you my world. I’ll answer every question you have about me. No lies, no secrets. I swear, I will do everything I can to make it up to you.”
She pulled away from his chest, staring up at him with guarded eyes. Then, slowly, she smiled. “I have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”
Ambrose sighed, nodding. “You really do. At least you aren’t crying,” he said, crushing her against him once more as relief crashed through him. Right now, she was the only person he had. If he lost her because of his own temper, Ambrose didn’t know what he would do.
“Don’t,” she said, poking him in the chest with that damn knife-like finger, “yell at me. It would set a very bad example for Deimos if he ever saw it.”
His eyes crossed. “Deimos? That’s who you’re worried about?”
She nodded, giving him a “duh” look. “Well, of course. I plan on him being your first in command, so we need to start training him.”
“He has enough ‘training’,” Ambrose said, aghast. She wanted that soulless killer to be his first command? What was she thinking?
“Not kill-everything-that-breathes training,” she said smartly. “But etiquette. And apparently, I need to teach you as well.”
He glared down at her, affronted. “Excuse me? I have perfect manners.”
Mari patted his shoulder with her dainty little hand. “Of course you do, honey. Of course you do.”
“Honey? Woman, did you just insult me?”
Mari looked at him, then narrowed her eyes. “On the surface, honey means sweet and innocent. If you want to think of that as offensive…then sure.” She shrugged, the teasing light in her eyes entrancing, reassuring him.
He guffawed, raising a brow at her. “Okay. Alright. That’s not very nice, Mari. Don’t worry, though. I’ll get you back…with an eight tentacled—“