The Seventh Princess

by Matt Larkin

  And that queen had abandoned any semblance of humanity. Her skin had turned aquamarine and was covered with scale-like bubbles. Mollusks jutted from her shoulders and a seashell grew from her head. Was that what happened when a host was possessed for centuries?

  We can only sustain a human body for so long. The longer we do, the more our presence in you changes your form.

  Did that mean this fish creature was closer to the true form of mermaids? Was that what they looked like in their own realm?

  The queen had eyes the same color as her skin, but they sparkled with faint luminosity. She raised a webbed hand and beckoned Nyi Rara closer.

  The mermaid swam near the throne then twirled her tail in an intricate gesture. “Aunt Latmikaik.”

  “Welcome back, niece. You have been long away from the Earth.”

  “Thank you for enabling my return.”

  “We needed a worthy host, of course. Dealing with the human Princess was simply a way to address two problems at once.” The queen waved a hand idly, and the water swirled about it. The same power Namaka had, used so casually, as if the queen didn’t even think on it.

  All our kind have some such control.

  The statement was laced with such disdain Namaka almost choked on it. What did Nyi Rara mean? That the other mermaids could control the sea, but not the way Namaka did?

  We have control.

  Control. Not the raw power. Namaka’s Gift must be stronger than that of the mer. Oh, how that must gall them. She, half human, wielding greater power over the seas than Water spirits.

  You test my patience.

  “The battle your host died in sparked a war with Mu, Nyi Rara. And these past few years have not gone as we might have hoped. Their numbers are greater and they’ve marshaled a vast army of tiger sharks. Oh, we win some engagements, for certain. But with every passing year, their domain grows. They seem to think all the seas on Earth ought to belong to them. I disagree.”

  So Mu was another mer kingdom?

  The next nearest kingdom to Hiyoya. Long a rival. Since they had sent many of my kind back to the Spirit Realm, I did know about the war. It is … unusual to hear my aunt speak so frankly of our losses. Hiyoya’s borders have been shrinking for centuries, but we do not speak of it. Things must grow dire indeed.

  “You, niece, must rejoin the fray and lead our armies to victory. Take Ake and go to the front as soon as the sun rises. Let us see how well the Muians cope with the power you gained from your new host.”

  That was why they wanted her? To fight some Milu-damned war? Were her mistakes, her crimes, mere excuses to enlist her Gift down here? Of course. What a fool she’d been—how could a mer kingdom not want access to the power to control the sea?

  Nyi Rara twirled her tail again and swam from the throne room.

  Do not get ahead of yourself.

  What in Milu’s misty realm did that mean?

  And do not invoke her name, not ever. Perhaps my people took you for their own ends. I suspect you gave them reason enough. Perhaps the very same reason you welcome me into your soul, so eager to join our world just to escape your own.

  And why should she get involved in a war between mer kingdoms? What business was that of hers?

  These are your people now, Namaka. Can you stand idle why they fight and die for their freedom?

  Namaka sighed, blowing bubbles in frustration. She had failed the Valley Isle, sure enough. The only way Nyi Rara was going to let her have any control over her fate from now on was to embrace Hiyoya as her people as well. And Nyi Rara knew that.

  In the morning, she was going to have to fight a war.

  “Your grotto has been prepared, Princess,” Ake said as Namaka left the throne room. The merman hesitated however, until Namaka cocked her head. “Hinaopuhalakoa will want to see you.”

  Who was that?

  The keeper of the Urchin and mistress of the Art for Hiyoya. Also, Ake’s older sister.

  Urchin? The Art? The only part of that Namaka understood was ‘sister.’

  “Lead the way,” she felt her mouth saying.

  Ake turned and guided her deep into the heart of the palace. They passed through halls winding in a maze that reminded her of the intricate reefs around the city. Actually, that was probably intentional.

  What was the Art?

  The study of the conjunction of the natural and the supernatural. The secret, mutable aspects of reality.

  Well mahalo, that cleared everything right up.

  In the most vulgar of terms, you might call it magic.

  Oh. So this Hinaophualakoa was a witch.

  She, or rather Nyi Rara, followed Ake until they came to a circular chamber with a gorge down its center. The merman general twirled his tail—that must have been the mer version of a bow—and Nyi Rara returned the gesture.

  Then she slowly descended into the gorge. Those glowing orbs of light had illuminated the chamber above, but they barely reached into this chasm, and the deeper they dove, the darker it grew. Her eyes, she found, had become superhumanly adapted to darkness. Perhaps that was a necessity for those who swam the depths. Eventually, however, the passage grew so dark even she could make out little.

  Nyi Rara began guiding herself downward with a hand on either side of the increasingly narrow gorge. Just when Namaka began to suspect they would meet the witch in total darkness, a faint glow appeared ahead, emanating from a tunnel through the gorge’s side wall.

  The mermaid followed this tunnel, revealing some kind of bioluminescent algae clinging to the tunnel’s sides. The light it cast was so faint a human would have struggled to see, but Namaka’s new eyes adapted quickly.

  The tunnel wound around a bend before finally opening into a chamber at least as large as the queen’s throne room had been. Maybe larger. This place, however, had the scent and taste of eternity. The chamber roof rose dozens of paces above her, but its floor—which dropped down an unseen distance beneath her—was dominated by a sea urchin so vast a whale could have impaled itself on one of the spines. Those spines were an iridescent mix of purples, reds, and blacks, a forest filling this cavern.

  The creature pulsated with an unearthly light, its movements barely perceptible, but so clearly alive. Even Namaka could feel the mana wafting off it, suffusing the chamber and seeping up through the layers of rock, feeding the city above.

  Nyi Rara twirled her tail at the urchin—the Urchin—and Namaka found herself unable to form any other thought save to mentally do the same. This creature was ancient, perhaps timeless. As Nyi Rara entered the chamber, the Urchin’s mana hit Namaka like a gale, threatening to blow over her mind, even as her body basked in its awesome glory. It was like drinking in pure joy, life itself. And that life was self-perpetuating, an all-consuming love of existence that seeped in through her scales and gills and pores.

  So enthralled with the Urchin, she barely noticed the other woman approaching until the mermaid drew within a few paces of her. This one, like Latmikaik, was covered head to tail in scales, and they seemed to radiate a faint bioluminescence of their own. Her hair flew about the chamber wild, unkempt, seeming almost forgotten. Probably it was, given the wide-eyed look this mermaid had. Her hands were totally webbed, ending in claws, and massive fins sprouted from her side. An ancient mermaid, become more spirit than human.

  Nyi Rara twirled her tail again. “Hinaophualakoa. You asked for me.”

  “It has been too long, young one.” The witch smirked as if looking at something beyond sight, beyond the understanding of mere mortals.

  I am not a mortal.

  Maybe not, but Namaka suspected not even Nyi Rara knew the secrets—or madness—the witch had glimpsed. That was it, wasn’t it? Humans thought spirits all powerful. Compared to mankind, she supposed they were. But they didn’t know everything about the universe either. No, even among their kind, some studied … the Art. Some knew more than others.

  The witch placed a hand on Namaka’s face, then clucked her tongue. “Str
ong host. Willful, hopeful … unbroken.”

  “The strangest host I’ve ever taken.”

  “Perhaps your most valuable. The Urchin will speak to you, I think.”

  It could speak?

  Not in words. Be still.

  Namaka felt Nyi Rara blow a breath out through her gills, as if steadying herself for an ordeal. Then the mermaid swam closer to the Urchin, circling it. With each pass, she drew a pace or so nearer those spines. As Nyi Rara did so, the Urchin moved, twitching its spines ever so slightly. Namaka’s eye fixed not on the spines, but on the pulsating body behind them.

  Falling. Crashing like a wave that never broke. Vertigo consumed her, but she could not look away, could not let go for a single moment. Indeed, it was a kind of rapture embracing her body and soul, one that might let her fall forever and be at peace with that.

  And through the fall, her mind was somewhere else. A thousand places, each like the last fading instant of a dream before waking. Ephemeral and hard to make sense of. Even harder to hold onto.

  A settlement, a free-floating boardwalk, with buildings unlike the huts of her people. And Pasikole, walking there, torn somehow between two dark choices. The image slipped through her fingers to reveal other mer kingdoms. Mu, perhaps, three times the size and glory of Hiyoya, and ruled by a great king.

  And more, volcanic fires erupting over the islands, and snow-capped mountains. The crash of thunder. And death. A thousand funeral lanterns as her people slowly slipped from the Earth. A man made of blood, slipping from island to island.

  In utter darkness, eyes, massive, a form. A he’e, waiting like an answer to unspoken questions. Caverns beneath the ocean, crevices where the he’e made their lairs.

  And she was on land, somewhere. The sea answered her call, becoming like a dancing volcano upon the waves, streaming through ribbons of joy.

  Nyi Rara collided with the wall, shattering the torrent of visions and scraping her shoulder. Dazed, she drifted free until the witch caught her and pulled her back toward the entrance.

  “What did you see?”

  “I don’t know,” Namaka said. She was in control, like the barrage of sensations had beaten Nyi Rara down. “What was that?”

  “Host. Interesting. You are strong. The Urchin can sometimes spark a glimpse of the Sight, even in those not inherently blessed with it. It is connected to all the Worldsea, pulsing with its life.”

  “I saw … too many things.” Already, most had begun to slip from her grasp. She tried to hold on to any given vision, but the more she tried to recall them, the hazier they became. One blended into the next.

  “Perhaps you saw things that have been, or things that are, or even … some things that one day will be.”

  “I saw the future?”

  “Anything is possible, though that is the rarest of visions.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t understand any of it.”

  The witch shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture in her immensely inhuman form. “Not now. The Urchin’s mind, if we are to even call it that, does not think like a human, or even a mer’s, mind. You may one day be able to glean something useful from that glimpse of its thoughts.”

  Before she could ask anything else, Nyi Rara reasserted control over her body.

  The witch seemed to recognize that, and nodded. “You must be tired.”

  Indeed, Namaka was exhausted, like the visions had beaten her senseless. Even the spirit inside her seemed fatigued, drawn out.

  With a last tail twirl, Nyi Rara fled the Urchin’s chamber.

  Ake led her to her personal grotto.

  “Your sister is fascinating,” Namaka said when they reached the room.

  The grotto was decorated with beautiful seashells and featured a circular hole in the ceiling to let in moonlight. The moment she saw it, a profound sense of being home washed over her, as though her human life had been a dream, separating her soul from its true place.

  Nyi Rara appeared to be resting, for she had relinquished control and said nothing.

  Ake must have taken her comment as an invitation to follow her into the grotto. “You are the host.”

  “I am. Or maybe she’s my host.”

  Ake gnashed shark-like teeth, as if unable to form a response to that. After a moment of awkward silence, he shook his head. “You should rest. Your body and mind will need to be strong for tomorrow.”

  Namaka sighed and settled down on a bed of kelp gathered in a rock alcove. It was soft and a bit slimy, but felt cool against her skin. All she wanted to do was shut her eyes and dive back into the dream the Urchin had showed her.

  “What does she do here?” she asked. “Your sister, I mean.”

  Ake had already turned away, but now looked over his shoulder. “Advises the queen, watches over the Urchin. She is the Lorekeeper of Hiyoya.”

  “I saw … this village, floating on the ocean. A village of white-skinned foreigners.”

  “There are many kinds of humans. You can ask Hinaopuhalakoa about the village tomorrow, after we return.” He hesitated then. “Nyi Rara?”

  Without warning Namaka’s insides constricted and she felt herself forced down, control taken from her.

  He wishes to speak to me, mortal.

  Namaka glowered inside herself.

  “I’m here, Ake.”

  The merman turned back, swam a little closer. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Allowing the human some freedom?”

  He nodded.

  Namaka felt her body sigh—unnerving given the subtle gesture had not originated in her own mind. “At first this girl simply intrigued me. After that … the Urchin showed me things.”

  Now that was interesting. What had the Urchin showed the mermaid? She seemed to be implying it had somehow prompted her toward a partnership with Namaka.

  Be still. Be silent.

  At Nyi Rara’s words, Ake’s face had creased. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing?”

  Nyi Rara made no immediate answer. Oh. She wasn’t certain at all.

  A flush of irritation struck her, but Nyi Rara made no other answer.

  “You were missed, Princess. Now you’re finally back … I just hope you’re not making a mistake with this human. The people would not understand.”

  Nyi Rara nodded. “Goodnight, General.”

  Day V

  12

  Kam had grabbed another skirt from the cave while he sat, telling Mo-O all about the stupid fish people taking Namaka. Poor Moela had collapsed from exhaustion, barely seeming to have the strength to drink from the river below the cave. He’d run the dog too hard. Must have, because Kam himself was hungry enough to eat a whale. Not that he would—whales were pretty amazing. No, but he’d happily eat a merman. Or a whale-sized merman.

  “So,” he began, mouth full of banana—the only damn thing Mo-O had to eat here. “What do you think they want with her?” Bits of banana dribbled out of his mouth as he spoke. Fortunately, one thing the dragon did not chide him for was eating manners. Manners were for people with too much time on their hands. Shit, how do we fill our day? Sure, let’s take twice as long to get anything done and call it proper behavior. Eat slowly, don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s rude to try to snack in the middle of sex. Stupid rules.

  The dragon sighed, setting the cave rumbling like the aftershocks of an earthquake. Mo-O always seemed so tired, so drawn out. Once, he had mentioned being sad that they would outlive Namaka. Mo-O had told him—out of earshot of the girl, of course—that her life was nearing its end as well. That one day, she would be gone, and he would have to be able to manage on his own.

  Well shit on that. He needed Mo-O and he needed Namaka. They were his best family.

  “I suspect the same thing they do with all their sacrifices,” the dragon said at last.

  “What, eat them?”

  “No. Mer people would only eat a human if enraged or starving. They are like the Moon spirit inside you. Beings from a reality unlike th
is one. To exist here, they need hosts. But unlike the boar inside you, Kamapua’a, they don’t like to share the bodies they take.”

  “Huh. Wait! Why didn’t you tell people this shit before?”

  The dragon shut her eyes as if exhausted again. Kam drummed his fingers on the cave floor until she opened them and spoke. “The mer kingdoms rule the world. They prefer their secrets and … it would only trouble humans to learn their lost loved ones were being so used. It is the reality of the Worldsea.”

  “Well that’s shit. If they think they can mermaidize Namaka, they’ve got another think coming.”

  “What are you going to do? Swim down and punish them? Their kingdom is leagues offshore and nearly seventy paces underwater.”

  Kam folded his arms and frowned at the stupid dragon. Always messing up his plans with stupid logic and shit. “Fine. Fine. Then I … I’ll get help from my mother!”

  The dragon shook her head and lay down, ear to the ground.

  She called that listening to the Earth. He was pretty sure it actually just meant taking a damn nap. Kam didn’t have time for that. If Mo-O wasn’t going to do something, he’d find someone who would.

  He trudged down from the cave, sore from the run and desperately needing some sleep himself. And the moment he passed Moela, the dog was at his heels again. Yeah. They needed to find their girl no matter what it took.

  So maybe Kam’s mother had never had time for him. And his father had handed him off to Kamalo the first chance he got. That just meant the old kahuna would know where to find his absent mother. She was a Princess. She must have some way to combat the fish people.

  And Kam was going to find it.

  13

  Hundreds of mer soldiers swam before Namaka, leading the way to the front lines, while she hung back with Ake. It felt like they’d been swimming the whole damn day, and yet her new body still had the endurance to keep going.