Cursed Tides

by Jade Kerrion

  Varun stared at the control panel. The red indicator hovered perilously close to the threshold. He could not let Kalymnos go the way of Atlantis and Krakatoa, but how did the controls work?

  Something gripped his wrist and spun him around. A Beltiamatu warrior snarled in his face. Something sharp pierced Varun’s side, and he screamed out his last lungful of air. He reached for the sonic gun, but his aim was poor and his arm too weakened by his fading strength. He managed to jam the device into the merman’s arm. The Beltiamatu’s howl was more angry than pained.

  Varun flung the last of his strength into wrenching the Beltiamatu’s head back and jabbing the weapon against his throat. The pulse of energy was brilliant yellow. The Beltiamatu’s eyes went blank, and his head fell back.

  Varun staggered against the control panel. The lights wafted in and out of focus. What was he supposed to do—what could he do?

  The water currents stirred. Another Beltiamatu warrior appeared by the doorway. Their eyes met.

  This one Varun vaguely recognized as the young merman who had been with the mer-king.

  Zamir’s grandson. Kai.

  Varun had no words with which to communicate with Kai, and he was out of time. His lungs burned. His vision turned black around the edges. He shaped his last conscious thought into a plea. Please save my people.

  Chapter 25

  Ashe stared at the army of Beltiamatu warriors swimming forward to surround her.

  Zamir. Zamir was the key to saving Kalymnos. The Dirga Tiamatu had been activated. It could not be stopped—the energy churning within the Earth’s core demanded a release, but it could be redirected away from Kalymnos and into the open ocean.

  The Nereids would be furious over the loss of ocean life, but Kalymnos would be saved.

  Her gaze flicked over Zamir’s entourage—his bodyguards, elite Beltiamatu warriors. Zamir’s grandson, Kai, was not among them. He had been, hadn’t he? She had caught a glimpse of him when she freed Varun. Where was he now? She shook her head sharply. There were far more important things to worry about than Kai.

  Like Zamir.

  The mer-king’s gold-flecked eyes marked his royal blood, but his distinctive dark scales had been his father’s. Zamir’s father had been a Beltiamatu warlord who had earned her father’s favor. He had been honored to serve his princess, even if it would mean his death.

  When Ashe gave birth to Zamir, the Beltiamatu warlord, as tradition demanded, had been ceremoniously executed. The royal heir could not be raised under the influence of any other than the royal family. Her own father had executed all his mates upon the birth of his children. Ashe had been raised among her other similarly orphaned half-siblings. She had resigned herself to mothering her orphaned children.

  But her perspective of motherhood had transformed with Zamir’s birth.

  She drowned in the absolute trust in her infant son’s eyes. She wanted everything for him—more than she had had for herself.

  And everything included a soul.

  A chance to touch eternity.

  A hope of returning to the stars instead of remaining Earth-locked, trapped within its fading seas.

  She would have given her infant son everything.

  This Zamir, however—with the hard, cold eyes and even colder heart—she wasn’t so sure she would have given anything except, perhaps, a kick in the ass.

  The Beltiamatu warriors formed a large circle in the water around her. The circle peeled back for Zamir to enter. He sneered. His sonorous voice flowed with the current. “You have nowhere to run, little mermaid princess. Even air can be contained.”

  Ashe’s eyes narrowed. To begin with, I am not “little mermaid princess”—especially not to you. And second, the air can never be contained. Her astral energy scattered. Her physical body vanished into molecules of air. She surged toward the edge of the circle between two Beltiamatu, but crashed into something invisible.

  Shock jolted her back into her astral form. Shimmering, she reached out her hand. Energy fizzled up her fingertips, solidifying her into a physical form.

  Only then did she notice the tiny devices the Beltiamatu held in their hands. They linked to each other, creating an energy trap around her—no less effective for being invisible.

  The water trembled around the rumble of Zamir’s voice. “Air can be slowed, condensed. Crushed.”

  Intimidation and threats won’t work, Zamir. I already lost everything two hundred and ninety-seven years ago.

  “The only person who lost was me. You chose a mortal man over your only son.” He hurled his trident at her.

  Ashe dodged. The trident lanced past her and twisted around sharply in the water, as if it possessed its own will. She cursed under her breath and ducked beneath the weapon as it surged over her head.

  Zamir reached out and seized the trident effortlessly as the weapon returned to his hand like an obedient pet. “Was he worth it? Was he worth my two hundred and ninety-seven years of loneliness? Of asking why?” he snarled. “Without you, I had nothing! No mother. No father. No half-sister. No half-brother. No family! You left me with nothing.”

  Ashe stared at Zamir, stricken. She had underestimated the devastating impact of the royal traditions on her abandoned infant son. He had truly had nothing. Zamir, I… She twisted aside as the trident shot past her again. I left for you. As the trident returned toward Zamir, she grabbed it, and it yanked her straight to Zamir.

  He caught the shaft in his hand. They stared at each other—eye to eye—scarcely less than inches apart.

  His eyes were the same colors as hers—the gold-flecked blue-green that marked the Beltimatu royal family. The deep ache in her heart seeped into her voice. I left to find you a soul—for you.

  “So you say,” he sneered. “Where is it?”

  The human libraries hold no secrets of souls. And the dagger served no useful purpose. She shook her head. He was not worthy of you.

  “He? The human prince of three centuries past? What about his descendant—the one you have protected at an absurd cost to yourself. Was his soul unworthy too?”

  Ashe stared at Zamir without answering.

  That, however, was apparently answer enough.

  Zamir’s upper lip pulled back. His eyes narrowed into slits. “Once more, you chose a man over me—your own son! Even with the oceans dying for lack of my soul—”

  You don’t need a soul! No one needs one! Eternity is created by what you do while you are alive.

  “So you would let me die here, trapped forever on this doomed planet, unable to return home.”

  We are never returning to the stars. The Beltiamatu have been on Earth for eons! We’ve been here even longer than the humans on this planet. This is our home now, and you’re destroying it!

  “Then why do the humans get to leave?” Zamir’s sneer was softened by the anguish in his voice. The same agony resonated in her heart. “Why do they escape while we linger?”

  Her mind and her heart stumbled over the answer. Is it so awful to return to the planet that cherished and nourished us? To be part of the cycle that cherishes and nourishes others?

  “And yet, you—as a Daughter of Air—will earn your own soul. You will return to the stars while I perish here.” Zamir pushed hard on the trident shaft, flinging her back. “You’re a liar, little mermaid princess. Mother.” He flung the word out like a curse. “Do you think air cannot be destroyed?” His eyes narrowed. King became executioner. “It can. I can. You are no match for the power of the Beltiamatu. I will disrupt your molecules. Break their bonds. Scatter them so they cannot reform.” He grasped her neck; his grip tightened. The cold metal of his ring burned into her skin. “I will have my soul, but you will not have yours, Mother.”

  Ashe tried to shift back into air, but Zamir’s ring, its energy pulsing against the hollow of her throat, trapped her in her physical form. In her peripheral vision, the other Beltiamatu warriors raised their small black devices toward her.

  The water tremble
d as their combined power converged on her.

  The anguish was like nothing she had ever felt.

  Not in giving birth to Zamir.

  Not in having her voice ripped out of her.

  Not in having her tail torn apart into legs.

  Agony pulsed through every cell in her body. Dark energy shredded her. It would scatter the atoms of her consciousness beyond her ability to reform.

  Death in the most absolute sense of the word.

  Beyond the circle of Beltimatu, Nereids darted through the water, their motions jerky with distress, but no one dared challenge the Lords of the Abyss.

  Ashe clasped her hands around Zamir’s grip on her throat. “Turn the Dirga Tiamatu away from Kalymnos.” She threw all her strength into that final plea. “Claim your soul. Destroy me if you must. But leave the humans alone. You have no right to their world.”

  “Their world?” Zamir sneered. “It’s my world when you’re trying to convince me to save it, but their world when you’re trying to convince me to leave it alone?” His grip tightened. “You’re a deceiver, Mother. You always were a liar, most especially to yourself.” He turned her toward Kalymnos. “The Dirga Tiamatu is ready. Now, watch Kalymnos enter the annals of history and mythology.”

  The Earth heaved so violently that the ocean contorted into a massive tidal wave. Ashe stared at the island of Kalymnos. Grief and guilt thumped so loudly through her that she could hardly hear anything over its devastating, all-consuming beat.

  Far below, the ocean floor melted beneath the unstoppable energy of molten rock pulsing from the Earth’s core.

  Chapter 26

  Varun’s vision was fuzzy black, more shadow than motion. Something clamped around his face. He shook his head, but it would not come off. Panicked, he yanked in a sharp breath despite all his training to the contrary.

  Air—not water—flooded his lungs.

  Alertness rushed into his brain, and the world sharpened into focus. Sounds stopped booming through his skull. He found himself floating involuntarily, his lungs once again filled with air. A clear mask covered his entire face, and it was attached, by a thin hose, to an oddly shaped container.

  Varun twisted around in the water and stared at Zamir’s grandson, Kai. Would a merman save Kalymnos after all? Shoulders heaving, Varun joined Kai at the control panel. The energy indicator skimmed under the threshold. Can you stop it? Varun asked.

  Kai shook his head. His expression was calm, but the twitch in his cheek and the tightness around his jaw betrayed him. His fingers moved over the control panel, touching things, changing things, but the red bar continued to rise.

  The Earth’s rumble transitioned from pained to tortured.

  Kai extended his hands, and the dark cloud hovering in the center of the chamber shot toward him. For a moment, it nestled in his cupped hands as he brought them toward his chest. Its tendrils shook then unfurled, striking at Kai.

  The mer-prince gasped, his head flung back and eyes closed as the writhing cloud pressed against his skin, melting into it.

  Varun gaped. The cloud had the inkling of a shape, yet was formless. Although most of it seemed dark, its core was iridescent, like a mesmerizing blend of colors shifting across the curve of a black pearl.

  The cloud vanished into Kai’s chest, leaving behind no hint that it had ever existed. The mer-prince’s eyes flashed open. Kai spun around and shoved the container of air into Varun’s arms. His black-scaled tail undulating with swift, sinuous grace, he pulled Varun from the control room into a narrow underground section of the tower. The groaning of the Earth was even more ominous. The platinum floor grew hot beneath Varun’s feet.

  Wasn’t the Dirga Tiamatu supposed to erupt beneath Kalymnos? Why was it scalding hot here? Varun stared at Kai. What did you…? He shook his head. No, it can’t be.

  Kai nodded once, his eyes bleak. He tapped on a panel, and a door slid open, revealing a tiny space scarcely large enough for two. Kai pushed Varun into it, and crowded in beside him.

  Varun stared out of the door as the floor split to reveal a reddish glow so intense it bordered on white light. The crack in the floor widened as platinum melted into silvery droplets. Heat poured into the room. Water churned into a boil.

  Kai slammed his hand down on the glowing control panel inside the small room, and the door slid shut, sealing them within what seemed to be a tomb.

  What are you doing? Varun demanded, but his breath whooshed out of him as the entire capsule shot backward, away from the melting chamber. Varun suddenly found himself staring out through glass windows at the open ocean. Are we in an escape pod?

  Kai nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on the Oceans Court and the underwater city of Shulim.

  The magnificent mer-city did not explode. It crumpled, collapsing as if imploding from within. It sank into the ocean floor. For an instant, all seemed still.

  Then the Earth roared.

  A geyser of molten rock shot straight up from where the Oceans Court had been. The water around it evaporated into steam. The water farther out boiled.

  Ocean creatures within blast range perished instantly. None could flee a disaster so encompassing.

  The infected Beltiamatu within the Oceans Court were incinerated, utterly destroyed without spilling a drop of their poisoned blood.

  Devastating heat raced after the escape pod. The platinum walls of their sanctuary glowed.

  Varun held his breath.

  Kai’s jaw was a taut line, but his eyes were calm and focused. He tapped on the controls, and the escape pod accelerated.

  Then something changed with an audible pop, and Varun realized they had shot out of the water and were flying through the air.

  Flying wasn’t the problem. Landing was.

  No graceful bobbing down on the sea. The escape pod crashed onto the ground, then tumbled and rolled, apparently hitting every tree or rock on the way down. Within the pod, Varun and Kai were violently jostled, alive only because there wasn’t enough room to be tossed entirely upside down. When the pod finally came to a stop, Varun’s heart was thudding. His knuckles, gripping tightly on the ridges on the inside of the pod, were white.

  Kai glanced at Varun, and a shaky smile touched his lips. He pressed a button and the escape pod door lifted open. The water within the pod spilled out. Varun tugged the mask off his face and drew in a deep breath.

  The air was contaminated with the stench of steam, salt, and burned flesh.

  His legs quavering, he stepped out of the escape pod and looked around.

  Kalymnos.

  Varun squeezed his eyes shut. Gratitude drove him to his knees.

  He was on Kalymnos.

  He stared at the ocean, miles away, as it frothed and boiled. It was, possibly, the last visible marker of where Shulim had been.

  Varun turned back to Kai. “We’re at the bottom of a hill. The beach is about half a mile away. We need to get you back to the ocean.”

  Kai nodded.

  “Do you understand me?”

  An amused smile quirked up the corner of Kai’s lips, and he nodded.

  “Why don’t you speak?”

  Kai grabbed Varun’s wrist and held Varun’s hand in front of his mouth. He opened his mouth. Air vibrated against Varun’s hand.

  “Right…” Varun grimaced. “The higher frequency.” Kai was perfectly audible in water, but not in the air. “But you can breathe.”

  Kai nodded.

  “Okay, no rush then, except for the fact that Ashe is still out there, facing off with your grandfather’s army. Let’s go.”

  Kai pushed Varun’s shoulder and jerked his chin toward the ocean. The order was clear, even without words. Go. You go.

  Varun grimaced. Kai was right. Trying to carry a Beltiamatu who outweighed him half a mile to the ocean would take more time than either could afford.

  It demanded more time than Ashe—if she were still alive—could afford.

  Kai would likely be safe, for a while. The people had
all rushed inland. No one was within a half-mile of the ocean.

  Kai shoved Varun again. Hard enough send him staggering.

  “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll come back for you,” Varun promised. “I’ll get you back safely to the ocean.”

  If there was an ocean to return to.

  Varun grabbed the Beltiamatu diving mask and scrambled down the hill. Grassy patches gave way to sand as he raced across the beach and splashed into the ocean. Come on, Ashe. Give me a sign. Where the hell are you?

  Chapter 27

  Trapped within a circle of Beltiamatu, her body pulsing with wrenching pain, Ashe stared at Kalymnos as the Dirga Tiamatu surged past its energy threshold.

  Molten rock surged up from the planet’s core.

  But not through Kalymnos.

  The Dirga Tiamatu punched out its pent-up violence several miles southwest of the island

  Ashe’s mind registered its location an instant before shock rippled through the gathered Beltiamatu.

  “Shulim! The Oceans Court!”

  Most of the Beltiamatu scattered, their mournful cries surging ahead of them through the water as they darted back to their home. Zamir’s honor guard, too well-trained to abandon their king, remained. Their gazes, however, screamed with utter terror.

  Zamir’s grip around Ashe’s throat loosened. “No! It cannot be! I personally targeted Kalymnos! Shulim…gone! But how—?” His horrified gaze fixed on Ashe. Zamir drew back his other arm. The curved edge of his trident glinted in the shafts of light from the surface. “It ends here for the both of us. My loss. Your lies. They end forever!” His bicep muscles corded, poised to strike, to kill.

  A flurry of motion darted between them. Slender arms wrapped around Ashe’s neck. Long blue hair fanned out in front of Ashe’s face, blocking her view of Zamir. Galene?