by Jade Kerrion
This is the Dirga Tiamatu. Translated literally, it means Glowing Abyss. The liquid agitates the core.
What core?
The Earth’s core.
He stiffened. What are you saying? That this liquid, injected into the Earth, agitates the Earth’s core. The one beneath the mantle. The one that is molten rock?
The Dirga Tiamatu triggers core-level seismic activity. This is what destroyed Atlantis. She pointed to a machine. Right now, it is tracking low activity within the core, but once the liquid is pumped in, activity escalates and the energy readings will shoot up. Once it’s high enough, the explosion of molten rock, straight from the Earth, will rip through the ocean and tear apart any land mass in its way. It’s not enough to bring down an entire continent, but an island like Atlantis? It’ll destroy the island completely.
And you can direct this force?
Ashe nodded. The Beltiamatu have laid— She paused, as if searching for the right word. —channels.
Through the mantel? Into the core? But that would— He caught himself. Why am I standing here, arguing about what’s possible, with a mermaid who became a Daughter of Air? The glint in his eyes betrayed wry humor in spite of the undercurrent of fear in his voice. So, channels from the core…?
It’s just molten rock—
Superheated molten rock.
You need to find something strong enough to survive the heat, and if you can, then you can tap into the most powerful energy force on Earth—its core. Once the agitation passes the threshold, the heat and energy are forced through an open channel. It will boil the ocean before pulverizing any island into ash. Vast swaths of life—in the ocean and on land—will die.
He shook his head. How often have the Beltiamatu used that weapon?
Twice.
Atlantis and… He frowned. Krakatoa?
She nodded.
His jaw dropped. But that was less than two hundred years ago. What happened?
I don’t know. I was a Daughter of Air then, but we all knew the Beltiamatu destroyed Krakatoa with the Dirga Tiamatu. No one understood why.
And no one asked?
She narrowed her eyes. It’s not as if there’s some kind of otherworldly policing force that keeps us in line. Everyone does their own thing, and the most powerful beings get to do the most things without having to justify anything.
That’s crazy. That’s no way to run the world.
They don’t run the world. They own it. She spread her hands to encompass the room. This is the greatest weapon on Earth. All that power is controlled right in here. She pointed at the gleaming control panel beneath the monitor that tracked seismic activity within the core. Ashe sighed and turned away. This way. We have to get to the throne room. The path sloped downward, but instead of following the main hallway into the center of the palace, she ducked into a small corridor. It led to a narrow tunnel that angled into multiple sharp turns, scarcely large enough for Ashe and Varun to proceed single-file. Other tunnels turned off from it, but she knew the most direct path to the ceiling recesses near the throne room. As a child, she had snuggled in the cozy nooks, listening to her father’s voice as he debated with his ministers on the future of the Beltiamatu amid the humans’ encroachment on the seas. Now, as a Daughter of Air, she crept into the corners that had once protected her.
She was now the intruder.
Ashe peeked down into the throne room, which was as vast as a stadium. Beltiamatu filled the room; most, although not all of them, bore telltale signs of sickness—their skin stripped of healthy color and their fingernails darkening. They whispered among themselves. Fear rippled through the chamber, evident in the hunch of their shoulders and the instinctive recoil of their bodies over their tails.
From the throne, a strong voice spoke in the ancient language, the tones melodic and haunting. “We will not be thwarted by the failure of one Beltiamatu to accomplish her assigned task. She is one. There are many who can take her place.”
“It’s not her failure that matters, my king,” one merman said. “She vanished. What if the humans have her? What will they learn?”
“They will learn nothing. She would have said nothing that they could have understood. You have missions to accomplish, tasks at which you cannot fail. We have come too far to be stopped by the humans and their meddlesome ways. You will obey, because it is your duty as Beltiamatu.”
Varun, crouched behind Ashe, said nothing, listening in silence even though he understood nothing. He knew, as she did, the explanations would come later.
She inched forward. She caught a glimpse of the imperial trident, but the large basalt throne blocked her view of the mer-king. Her heart thudded. Her mind recoiled from the possibility.
“The ocean is ours!” the mer-king thundered. “And the land will be ours, too.” He stepped forward, his arms raised. “The Beltiamatu will finally claim their birthright—their destiny.”
The merfolk lowered their heads in submissive silence.
“Now, go. Fulfill your duty as commanded.”
The Beltiamatu swam slowly out of the chamber. Ashe held the breath she did not need to hold as the king turned.
Two hundred and ninety-seven years had passed since she had seen him.
But she knew him instantly.
Zamir.
Chapter 18
Varun’s grip steadied her. Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
Not a ghost. She moved to the side so that he could look out.
Is that the mer-king?
Yes.
You recognize him.
Yes, Ashe replied softly. She stared down at her hands. They trembled, although her voice did not.
He glanced over his shoulder. But don’t merfolk only live for about three hundred years?
Yes.
Then you knew him when he was a child?
Yes.
Irritation flashed in his eyes. No doubt he was tired of asking one question after another, but her answers stuttered, even in the privacy of her thoughts. Well, who is he? Varun asked.
My son.
His jaw dropped. You have a son? A husband?
She nodded. Technically, she had a mate, not a husband, but she was not in a mood to debate the semantics.
You left them both? For my great-whatever-grandfather?
It’s not that simple.
Although, it had seemed simple then. She had crept into the nursery in the early hours of dawn. Zamir had been asleep, but as she stood over the cradle, stroking his hair, he awoke and blinked sleepy eyes. A dazzling smile lit his face. “Mama,” he cooed, raising his arms to be held.
She had decided not to carry him—if she did, she might never be able to leave—but she could not deny him now. She picked him up and cradled him against her beating heart. “I won’t be gone long,” she promised him. “And when I come back, I’ll have something really special for you.”
His smile faded. Had he sensed her grief? “Mama?” He snuggled against her. His small hands gripped her, trying to keep her close. “Love Mama.”
“I know,” she murmured, although she did not know whether he was asking for love, or telling her that he loved her. It did not matter. Either way, love was the reason, and the answer. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, to his cheeks, and to his lips. She picked up the amber figurine he had flung aside in his sleep, and kissed it too, before offering it to him. Zamir pulled it against his tiny chest, and hugged it with all his strength. “Wait for me, Zamir. I’ll come back. Whatever it takes, I’ll come back.”
He had wailed when she left him. Her last glance of him was of his arms reaching out to her, of tears streaming down his cheeks.
She had lied. She had not come back. Not for two hundred and ninety-seven years.
Now, almost three centuries later, she glanced down at the toy she held—the same one she had pressed into Zamir’s embrace.
Varun’s voice, gentler now, whispered through her thoughts. What happened?
How c
ould a question pierce her on so many levels? I don’t know. We have to find out. Come. This way. She led Varun back along the narrow tunnel, through more twisting corridors, and into a spacious section of the palace. Precious stones turned the ceiling and walls into a mosaic of colors; the repeating pattern created a dizzying illusion of more space than actually existed.
These are the royal chambers.
I can tell was Varun’s sardonic reply. Priceless stones exceeding the wealth of many nations is practically dripping off the walls.
He’ll have to come back this way…
Varun glanced down the corridor. That way. The current changed.
She looked at him, astonished. He was right. The way the water flowed was often indicative of movement. The knowledge was both obvious and intuitive to the Beltiamatu, but for a human to so quickly catch on was impressive.
They pressed into the shadows as Zamir turned the corner, the imperial trident in his hand. Eight feet long, the trident—like the Dirga Tiamatu—represented the pinnacle of Beltiamatu technology, engineered to control the seismic devices that triggered the currents and the waves.
Ashe was about to confront Zamir when a voice called out, “My lord.”
A member of the royal family. Only the family addressed him as ‘lord’ instead of ‘majesty.’ The sonorous voice was also familiar. She murmured the translation directly into Varun’s mind as Kai approached Zamir. The family resemblance was evident in Kai and Zamir’s iridescent black scales and dark blue hair. If she were close enough, she knew she would also see their blue-green eyes, flecked with the gold of royalty. Kai spoke, “My lord, I’m worried about…your plan.”
“What concerns you?”
“The ocean. It’s changing.”
“It’s supposed to change.”
The younger merman shook his head. “Not like this. Fish, plants, and coral are dying. The pollution is spreading—worse than anything the humans have ever managed to do, even with their oil spills. The ocean’s not just changing, grandfather. It’s dying. I have reports of what’s happening. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. The sand turns black. Plants wilt. Fish flee. The water is rank, turgid with death. If you could just see it, I know you would—”
“Death is just a door into another life. You know that as well as I do, Kai. I made a pact.”
“It should never have been made. What’s the point of destroying the ocean for everyone else?” Kai said. “She can’t be trusted.”
Zamir’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “None of them can be trusted. They’re deceivers—all females—whatever their species. It is in their nature to lie, but once you know that, once you account for that…”
“Grandfather, it’s not worth it.”
“It has to be. She chose it over me.”
Kai shook his head. “What good is it? What will you do once you have a soul?”
“Find her.”
“Where? It’s insane. You’ve let her hurt you for so many years—for your entire lifetime—it’s time to let go. It’s time to give up this crazy pursuit of a soul. It’s not worth it! It’s not worth what you’re doing to the ocean—what you’re doing to the Earth.”
“It’s not a crazy pursuit. It can be done. Obviously, it was done, because she never came back.” The water rippled. “Obviously, it was worth something. Everything. She chose it over me. She gave me up for it.”
“Grandfather, please—”
“This discussion is over, Kai.”
“It can’t be over. What you’re doing is wrong. You’ll destroy the Beltiamatu, destroy all of Earth—”
Zamir flung out his trident. A blast of water slammed Kai back against the wall. The younger merman hunched over, his hand pressed against his chest. A muscle in his cheek twitched as a thin trickle of crimson leaked from his mouth.
Zamir extended his arm. The three glistening tips of the trident pointed at Kai’s throat. “I will not tolerate disobedience or treason. You know what I did to your father when he defied me.”
Kai’s breath shuddered out of him, and he lowered his gaze.
“I will not hesitate to do the same to you. Now, get out. Return to your duties as the captain of my guard. Leave the governing of my realm to me.”
Kai stiffened. “Yes, my lord.” He turned and swam away, leaving the mer-king alone in the corridor.
Ashe searched her son’s face, but could not find any hint of the child she had left behind.
Except for his eyes.
Eyes that stared daily into the face of abandonment.
She could still leave. She and Varun could wait until Zamir passed, then make their escape, but she had spent too long running away from the responsibilities she abandoned when she became a Daughter of Air.
Guilt had kept her away, but never, for a moment, had she imagined that her reunion with her son would be entwined with so much pain and death.
Ashe drew a deep breath and stepped out of the darkness. Zamir. Her mind threw out his name, although her lips instinctively shaped it, too. The memory of his name stumbled off the tip of her tongue even though not a single day had passed when she had not thought of him.
Zamir twisted around. His scales glittered in the phosphorescent lighting gleaming off the walls. His body was robust—merfolk remained strong and vital until the end—and his beard was full and white—a symbol of both age and wisdom. “Who are you?” His gaze narrowed on her legs. “What are you?”
I am Asherah.
“My mother’s…” Incredulity flickered over his face. “My mother’s name was Asherah.” His gaze flicked to the amber figurine she held in her hand. “What is that? Where did you find it?”
In the uppermost room of the eastern tower. Did you follow me there?
He stared at her. Shock gave way to anguish. “It can’t be. You can’t be her.”
What are you doing to the oceans, Zamir?
“You’re…” He shook his head and shoved out his hand. “Give it to me.”
Ashe touched the figurine’s algae-smeared face gently, then held it out.
Zamir snatched it from her. He stared at the figurine, then glared at her. “You can’t be her. She’s gone.”
Ashe shrugged. Her grace belied the ache in her heart. Who I am isn’t relevant. It doesn’t change what you are doing—what you have done—to the ocean.
“How dare you say that?” Zamir flung his trident out. A surge of water slammed into her chest and pushed her back. Air wrapped around her, cushioning her collision against the wall, but the impact still jolted pain down her spine.
Varun lunged out of the shadows and flung himself between Zamir and her. His hands curled into fists. The determined set of his jaw assured her that he—a human, desperately dependent on the air she supplied him—was willing to take on the mer-king himself.
Ashe’s heart stuttered. Anger was easier to acknowledge than fear. What the hell was Varun doing?
Zamir’s jaw dropped. “What…who are you? What are you humans doing here where I rule?”
Ashe tore her panicked gaze from Varun, and refocused on Zamir. There won’t be anything left of your dominion if you do not check this madness. What are you doing, Zamir? The destruction of the ocean will destroy the Beltiamatu.
“What do you know of it?” Zamir roared. “You are not one of us.”
I was.
“No…” He stared at her, disbelief giving way to grief. “You can’t be my mother. She left me… You left me. You left me in search of your soul.” His face twisted into a sneer, but his voice seared with anguish. “Was it worth it?”
She did not answer his question. Why do you want one?
“Because it matters. Because it’s the most important thing in the world.”
It’s not.
“It had to be. I screamed for you. I begged you to come back.”
I know.
“And you left me anyway.”
It’s a long, complicated story, Zamir. But a soul isn’t worth it, and what you’r
e doing is wrong.
“You know nothing about what I’m doing.”
It’s destroying the ocean.
“When you left, you gave up your right to comment on the ocean.” Zamir’s shoulders stiffened. “You do not belong here. Neither you nor this intruder.” He raised his trident. Water blasted toward Varun. Ashe flung up a wall of air in front of Varun, but her powers, underwater, were limited. There was simply less air to draw upon. Water churned against her invisible wall, pushing it backward slowly as air struggled against the inevitability of water. Get out! She screamed the order at Varun.
Instead, he reached for his sonic gun and fired off a shot at the decorated ceiling. The small seismic blast released cascades of gems and colored stones. They tumbled down toward Zamir and Ashe.
She vanished, her physical body returning to her element.
Ashe grabbed Varun and scarcely had time to notice the astonishment on his face as he was swept up by a column of air. She enveloped him, and heard his shaky inhalation as he dragged oxygen into his lungs. Close. Too damn close.
Varun was human. He did not belong in the ocean. Why wouldn’t he just listen to her and stay the hell out?
Ashe and Varun fled from Zamir’s outraged howl as he ordered his guards into pursuit. Beltiamatu warriors swarmed out of the eastern tower like schools of sharks. They raced through the water, armed with spears that they hurled at Varun. Tentacles of air swiped the spears away from Varun, but the guards kept up the chase.
Ashe could not lead them back to the ship. Her power was not limitless, and it was easier for her to defend one man instead of one ship. But where could she go—?
She darted through the water. Her air-form would have been faster than any Beltiamatu, even in the water, but carrying Varun slowed her down. The Beltiamatu darted close. She expelled a blast of air. One of them—Zamir’s grandson—reeled back, his eyes wide with shock. He stared at Varun, his eyes narrowing as if trying to see beyond a human propelled through the water at unnatural speed.