by Dima Zales
Hell was eternal asphyxiation.
“Why do you call it drowning?” Trevain asked. “Wouldn’t ‘stabbing’ be a more appropriate description?”
Elandria considered this. She wished she could articulate the relevant spiritual significance behind the act, but Trevain would not understand without context. She could only explain it anatomically. “I suppose that death actually comes from the loss of blood more than suffocation with blood. This is just the way that our people refer to this… traditional method of execution.”
“Traditional,” he repeated. He shook his head, almost refusing to believe that it was true.
“You may consider my sister a murderess, but our people consider her a heroine. Aazuria is my champion. I needed you to know; she may seem sweet and gentle, but she is also incredibly strong. She is very important to many people. She is not the kind of person that anyone can ever get away with hurting.”
“I would never hurt her,” Trevain said hoarsely.
“Yes, but in the unlikely case that you did, there would be dire consequences.” Elandria gave him a forbidding smile. “I can assure you of that.”
“I need some time to process this,” Trevain said slowly. “Thank you for telling me.”
He nodded at Elandria before exiting the room. He went directly to the library, where he began to briskly pace back and forth across the length of the room. He continued to pace for hours, hardly noticing the passage of time. He was overwhelmed with trying to accept and understand this new information. He knew that Elandria would not lie to him.
He paced the library until his leg was terribly sore. He had not been on his feet for a few days, and his bad leg protested against the sudden vigorous exercise. His limp became very pronounced as he continued to pace, but he did not notice this. He did not know how to accept that the woman for whom he had developed a deep attachment, the woman whose family he already loved and considered his own—the woman whom he wished to take as his wife was a murderess. Regardless of how awful her father had been, death was not the solution. He did not know if he could ever forgive her for having done such a savage thing.
Part of him knew that he already had.
20
“Go at once, Naclana,” Aazuria ordered, in a tone of voice which could not be disobeyed.
Naclana bowed deeply, recognizing her for the first time in weeks. In the torch-lit volcanic caves of Adlivun, Aazuria’s silvery-white hair glistened as it hung down her back, woven with dozens of strands of pearls. Her stern eyes bored right through him, their color having returned to their natural, undersea azure; her namesake.
She was nothing like the fretful, lackluster girl he had seen when she came to answer Trevain’s door. His faith in her was restored. She was the same intelligent, refined woman he had always known; she was more than capable of leading their nation. Here at home, Aazuria was fierce, judicious, and capable of anything. The difference was palpable even to Corallyn and the twins, who felt great comfort and security in seeing Aazuria’s coloring return to the pale, albino-like tones she had sported for hundreds of years. With it, her fortitude seemed to return.
On land, they were all a little awkward and uncertain. Even the regal, confident Aazuria seemed overly-cautious and agitated above the surface.
“I will leave immediately, Princess Aazuria,” said Naclana, saluting across his chest with sincerity.
“I wish you a safe journey,” Aazuria said, inclining her head slightly in gratitude. Above the surface, her cousin was able to give her orders, but in their true niche, he was an emissary bound to serve her.
“Do not forget to give Queen Amabie my message!” Visola reminded him. “Tell her it’s urgent.”
“Yes, General Ramaris.” Naclana saluted Visola as well before turning and marching away.
“May I please go with him?” Corallyn begged. “I have always wanted to meet the Ningyo.”
“No,” Aazuria said firmly, and that was that.
“It is far too dangerous, Coral,” Sionna said in agreement. “Naclana will be safer and faster on his own.”
“I hope they do send reinforcements,” Corallyn said with concern. “I would feel so much safer.”
“They will, kiddo,” said Visola, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Don’t worry so much; I have scouts everywhere around the kingdom, so if anything goes sour we’ll have plenty of notice.”
“Since we’re nearby, I think we should visit the infirmary caves,” Sionna suggested. When Aazuria nodded in consent, the women began to walk there together. “Our warriors were able to save a few lives during recent attacks and we have about a dozen injured in the healing springs. We also have a few wounded captives.”
“The easiest kind to work with,” Visola said with a smile.
“Viso spent the last few days ‘questioning’ them and we found some interesting information.”
“How bad are our wounded?” Aazuria asked briskly as the three girls navigated the warmly lit caves.
“A few of them are unconscious, but some are not hurt quite so badly. I’m considering staying behind to help take care of them,” Sionna said.
“She thinks her talents are better expended in the hospital than in the strip club with me,” Visola grumbled.
“And you do not agree?” Aazuria asked her friend.
“There’s a war coming, Zuri. We know that now. We need weaponry badly. I’ve used the gloriousness of my boobs to single handedly triple our defenses. I’m working my ass off—literally, to prevent more people from being injured or killed. Isn’t that important?”
Aazuria nodded. “Yes, but we need more.” She turned to her sister. “Coral, go to the castle. Collect all of my mother’s jewels. Get the guards to raid the royal chambers so we can pawn anything of value. We need to tap every resource and give Visola some real funds to work with.”
“Your jewels, Zuri? But I thought…”
“We should have done this long before. We were not certain that it was war—we thought it might be just a few random attacks on our people when they happened to stray too far away from home. Even then we were largely unprepared. Now that we know we might be up against the Clan of Zalcan, we need to fortify to an immeasurable degree. Go now.”
“Sure thing!” said Corallyn, saluting across her chest. “I’ll go give the orders.”
Visola clapped her hands together in delight as the youngest girl left. “Aazuria, my beloved princess! I would grab you and kiss you right now if you didn’t have that serious, terrifying look on your face. Maybe I’ll do it later.” Visola winked at her friend, which caused Aazuria’s lips to twitch slightly into a smile. Visola grinned and pumped her fist. “Yes! I’m done with that club, although I can’t deny that it was fun and useful. Say goodbye to your pretty heirloom gemstones, and say hello to awesome American firearms. You won’t regret this, Zuri.”
Aazuria could not resist letting her face completely relax into a smile at her friend’s energy, but Sionna rolled her eyes. As they entered the infirmary, Visola immediately went off to the area where the hostages were kept. Sionna placed her hands on her hips and assumed her own air of command. This was her element.
“Right, so we have a dozen wounded; ten women and two men—about three are in critical condition…”
“Two men?” Aazuria asked with concern. It was disturbing to hear that two of the very few men in Adlivun were out of commission.
“Yes. One is Sidnigel, the chef. He was out fishing in distant waters with his wife—he saw her being attacked, and he barely managed to save her. Both of them are seriously wounded.”
“That is awful,” Aazuria said, her eyebrows knitting into a deep frown.
“Sidnigel said he thought he recognized some of the attackers. They might be some of ours—the people Kyrosed exiled probably want revenge.”
“I thought as much.” Aazuria balled her hands up into fists and scowled. “It is unfair we have to suffer for everything my father did and inherit his enemies! Who else
is here?”
“Here’s the funny thing—the other wounded man is not one of ours. He’s unconscious so we do not have a name. No one recognizes him, but he was impaled by an enemy harpoon. He was found floating in the middle of the sea, losing a lot of blood, and left for dead. Scouts took him in, figuring that the enemy of our enemy…”
“May I see him, Doctor Ramaris?” Aazuria was intrigued by the unusual situation. Perhaps he was a messenger from a nearby kingdom who had tried to bring them intelligence.
“Sure,” said Sionna, leading Aazuria over to the hot springs where the man was submerged. She motioned for a nurse to lift the man out of the water. The woman immediately complied, and entered the spring. She carefully lifted the man to the surface so that Aazuria could see his face.
The princess released a gasp. “Sweet Sedna!” Aazuria exclaimed. She reached out and grabbed Sionna’s arm in shock. “It is Callder Murphy! Trevain’s younger brother who we thought to be dead.”
Sionna stared at her friend for a moment in surprise. “Well, he’s not quite dead yet, although he might be before long.”
“Neither of you recognized him from the club?” Aazuria asked.
“I only saw him once, and he looks different wet and dying, sweetie.” Sionna sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any good news for you. This handsome stranger took a harpoon to the chest; I’m surprised he’s still breathing. I wouldn’t tell your captain if I were you—there’s no use in giving him false hope in case he has to deal with losing his brother a second time.”
“But he is breathing,” Aazuria said, watching as the healer eased Callder’s body back down into the hot spring. “He is breathing underwater.”
Sionna turned to face her friend and placed her hands on Aazuria’s shoulders. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, Princess. Stop that train of thought right now. Callder Murphy may have sea-dwelling traits but it does not mean that Trevain does. These are recessive genes. If both of his parents were our kind, then maybe—but if it was only one of them…”
“But he might, Sio. He might,” she whispered. Her heart soared, and she tried to calm her exploding insides. “Oh, Sedna, look at me. People are dying all around—yet all I can think about is the fact that this means I might be able to stay with the man I love…”
“You love?” Sionna questioned, staring directly into Aazuria’s cerulean eyes.
Aazuria felt a shockwave of horror course through her at having said the word aloud. She inhaled sharply and straightened, resuming her composure. “Possibly. Conceivably, though it is neither here nor there. It is wonderful news that Callder has a fighting chance at life; I will do as you recommend and conceal this from Trevain. It would be… so miraculous.”
Sionna sighed, knowing that Aazuria’s life had just become a lot more complicated. “Sure, darling. Now let’s see if any of our hostages are feeling chatty. I’ll take intelligence over miracles any day.”
Visola had already begun to terrorize the prisoners, and she grinned at her sister and Aazuria when they entered the holding area. “Hey girls, listen to this. Tell me if it makes sense to you!” she said, before jabbing an enemy woman forcefully in her already injured abdomen.
The woman screamed, and took several ragged breaths to assuage the pain and calm down before she spoke in an angry hiss. “Atargatis is coming. Do what you want to me. Atargatis is coming! She will avenge me.”
“Atargatis,” Aazuria repeated in confusion. “That is an ancient name. I believe it belonged to an Assyrian sea-dwelling queen, several thousand years ago.”
“Yeah, there’s no way the original Atargatis is alive,” Visola said with a frown. “My guess is that some young rebel mermaid chick named Jennifer or Molly decided to call herself Atargatis to make her shrimpy attack on us a bit scarier. Isn’t that right, honey?”
The hostage woman tried to spit on Visola, but Visola expertly dodged the flying lump of saliva. “Now, now, that’s not nice. Are you going to tell us why evil Miss Molly Mermaid is attacking us, or do I need to beat it out of you?”
“Her name is Atargatis! She is coming to exact vengeance because Kyrosed Vellamo stole her daughter!” the woman shouted desperately.
“That hardly narrows it down,” Sionna said. “King Kyrosed took the daughters of many women.”
“Atargatis is coming,” the captive repeated, rocking back and forth frantically. “When she comes she will kill Kyrosed Vellamo and take Adlivun for her own!”
“Ah, I see. It’s just your average run-of-the-mill divide-and-conquer attempt,” Visola diagnosed, looking up at Aazuria with a shrug. “Pretty standard stuff. Happens every century or so to any nation worth its salt. Keeps things interesting.”
“Viso, this is serious,” Aazuria said softly. “Our people are in danger; so many are already dead or wounded. We need to find out as much about this ‘Atargatis’ as possible.”
“It would be my pleasure, Princess.” Visola cracked her knuckles cheerfully. “I already know the most important thing about evil Miss Molly Mermaid.”
“What would that happen to be, sis?” Sionna asked.
“That I’m going to kill her. I’m going to toss a knife right into her left eye.” Visola pointed to the eye in question. “I’m going to bury it deep in her brain, right up to the hilt.”
“Let us see if some kind of diplomacy can prevent things from getting to that point,” Aazuria said. “Maybe if you release the hostages and send an ambassador to speak with her—if she knows that my father is dead, perhaps it will appease her. We could even invite her to see his body for confirmation.”
“Invite her here?” Sionna said with surprise. “That’s risky as hell.”
“Just her; not her entire army,” Aazuria said. “I fear she may be allied with the Clan of Zalcan. Perhaps Atargatis is their new leader.”
“You should remain in a safe location,” said Sionna. She glanced at the captive and lowered her voice. “Stay with Elandria until all this is over. You will be safe there, Princess.”
“I will,” Aazuria agreed, “but if I am needed you must send for me at once. Let me know of every single attack on our citizens, however small. Send me word about whether Atargatis accepts our meeting. If you wish—you may communicate with me by telephone. Also, Corallyn says that the ‘instant messaging’ on her computer is rather efficient.”
“I have Trevain’s landline and cell number,” Sionna said with a nod. “In all likelihood we will send a runner as well. Old habits die hard.”
“Diplomacy never works,” Visola said cynically, “but if you really want me to try this, I’ll give it a shot.”
“Atargatis is coming!” the hostage repeated with a hysterical screech.
Visola waved her hand in annoyance. “Duh. Of course she’s coming; didn’t you hear? We’re inviting her over for tea and crumpets.”
21
Trevain looked up from his book, startled by the interrupting sound of the doorbell. Elandria had just left to go upstairs and take a shower, so he would have to answer it himself. He pulled himself up from his armchair, and tossed his book against the cushion. He limped across the library, grimacing at the pain in his leg. He had really aggravated it with his endless hours of pacing over the past few days. He did not want to call a doctor, but he assumed that there was some kind of arthritis developing.
Slowly limping to the door, Trevain unlocked the bolt and turned the knob. When a crack of the sky became visible, he noted that it was already dark outside, heralding that the extremely long nights of Alaska had begun. When he saw who stood outside his door, his heart immediately began beating faster. He forgot about the pain in his leg.
“Aazuria,” he said, reaching out to gather her up into his embrace. She still carried no luggage with her, so she could use both of her arms to return the hug. He was glad that she clung to him just as fiercely as he held her. “I thought you wouldn’t return,” he breathed.
“How could I not?” she asked. She smiled against
his warm, dry shirt, rubbing her cheek against the fabric. “I have learned so much that I wish to tell you.”
“I guess you two are going to pick up right where you left off and continue smooching,” Corallyn said dryly from behind her sister. She had entered the house and shut the door, and was now leaning on it with crossed arms.
Aazuria gave her younger sister a playful look. “Coral, go find Elandria and tell her about our trip. Tell her all the important parts, okay? The ‘adults’ need to talk.”
Instead of saluting respectfully as she had done in Adlivun, Corallyn stuck out her tongue at her sister before obediently scurrying upstairs. Fundamentally, it meant the same thing.
“Will you come and sit down with me?” Trevain asked Aazuria, as he caressed her dark hair. “My leg has gotten really bad lately. I haven’t been feeling so great.”
Aazuria pulled away from him and looked down at his leg suspiciously. “Your ‘fishing injury,’ right?”
“Yes, that’s right…” he began.
She saw it in his face again and stopped him by raising her hand. “Why do you deceive me, Trevain? You did not really injure your leg while working, did you?”
“How do you know that?” he asked. “I haven’t told anyone. It’s a congenital bone disorder. I’ve had it since I was a boy. I just tell people it was a boating injury to make them more cautious.”
Aazuria’s face was lit with a giant smile, and she laughed. She had to restrain herself from throwing her hands up in the air. “I knew it! This is wonderful!”
“You seem awfully excited about my defects,” Trevain commented, but he was enjoying her laughter.
“I have the exact same problem with my legs! I know just how to ease the pain,” she said, taking his hand. She beamed in delight. “Do you trust me?”
Trevain looked at her innocent face, and remembered Elandria’s words. He tried to imagine that this smiling young girl before him was capable of murder. He inwardly scolded himself for the thought, and easily pushed it away. It did not matter to him.