by Nikki Dean
Lahni could practically hear Celeste’s eyes roll in the water ahead. “He didn’t know it was me. He just knew something was down here when he saw my light.”
“So why drop anything at all?” Celeste demanded. “What did you do to encourage him, if he didn’t even know that you existed before tonight?”
“Nothing.”
Celeste squeezed Lahni’s wrist.
“I’m telling the truth. I swear. I was watching him in his little boat for a long time before he ever noticed me, and one night he just looked over the side and saw my anboll, I guess.”
“You were watching him? Why?”
They dropped down into an underwater crevasse that would lead them to the back entrance of Rylos, the capital of Morwen, and Lahni pulled them to a stop again. “Don’t make me go back yet, and I’ll answer all of your questions,” she pleaded. “Just let me enjoy the open water a little longer.”
Celeste bared her sharp teeth in a scowl, but couldn’t bring herself to put much heart into it. Lahni already knew how much she hated being in the city, as well.
“You have five minutes.”
Lahni crossed her arms and glared, meeting Celeste head on.
“You’re wasting time.”
Finally ceding the victory, Lahni sank onto a clear spot in the sand with a huff. She idly picked at a nearby urchin, cleaning a bit of algae off of one of its spines. “I was watching him because I like him,” she finally answered. “He seems nice.”
“He seems nice?” Celeste scoffed. “You’re nothing but a child, what would you know about someone seeming nice? And a human, no less? They’re not nice, Lahni. Just ask your father if you don’t believe me.”
Lahni flinched at the censure in her older sister’s voice. “I knew you’d say that. But he’s different. I’ve seen him bring food for the fish and gulls, and once he spent an hour pulling an abandoned net into his little boat.”
“Probably so he could use it later.”
Lahni shook her head. “He’s not a fisherman. He never brings anything like that, not even a pole. I think he’s someone important, like a governor or something. He talks to himself a lot, about problems his people are having and how he can help. He doesn’t know I’m listening.”
Celeste threw her hands up and turned away in disbelief. “Let me get this right. You’ve been sneaking out of the castle.” She held up one finger.
“To go to the surface.” She lifted a second finger.
“To listen to some human man talk to himself like a lunatic about problems that don’t concern you!” She held up her third finger. Lahni groaned at the implication.
“Why do you care about him and his ridiculous little moonlit chats with himself?” Celeste demanded. “And you had better tell me that you’ve only been doing this at night! If you’ve been going up during the day, I’ll lock you in your room myself!”
Lahni shook her head, her hair plastering itself against her face in her vehemence. She shoved it back to let it drift around her head. “No, only at night.” She held her hands up before her as Celeste scowled in disbelief again. “I promise! I just like his voice. The way he speaks, and the sound of it when he thinks no one is listening. Not like everyone else talks to me,” she grumbled.
That’s true. No one really talks to her, not like that. Because of me. Celeste drifted down beside her and put her arm around Lahni’s shoulders. “I know. But you can’t take stupid chances because of that. Pick a friend. Make them talk to you. No one can say no.”
The younger girl slumped in dejection. “That’s the whole point. They’d be talking to the princess, not me. You can’t force someone to be friends with you.”
“You are the princess.”
“But I’m not the only one. It’s not fair that everyone treats me like some sort of… ” she trailed off, studying her hands.
“Some sort of what?” Celeste forced herself to ask, even though she already knew the answer.
“Freak.” Lahni barely whispered it, but it hung in the water between them. “I know it’s not your fault, but everyone treats me like,” she paused, trying to find the right words for it. “Some sort of trap. Like if they aren’t careful, they’ll be pulled in and never get out. Never get back to their old lives - their friends and family, or anything.”
Celeste had to hold herself steady against the urge to flinch. “Don’t be dramatic,” she retorted. “No one thinks of you as a trap. And what is anyone going to be pulled into? Meeting the royal family? We wouldn’t exactly be adopting them. The opportunities of court? As though staying home in a little grotto is more fun. Possibly meeting rich, handsome mermen from around the world? You’re right,” she nodded, “I can see how that’s so scary.”
“Then why are you trying so hard to avoid it all?” Lahni demanded. The younger girl brushed angry tears from her cheeks. “You can make fun of me all you want, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. Having someone hang around to use me for the advantages that come with being the princess isn’t the same as having a real friend. Which you wouldn’t understand, since you’ve never wanted any!”
“At least that’s better than being so desperate that you’re going to the surface to find one!”
“I told you, I wasn’t ever planning to talk to him! I just wanted …” she looked away.
“Wanted what?! To be caught? Or killed?” Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “Or to kill him, maybe?”
“No!” Lahni whirled on her sister, her fists clenched and eyes flashing with denial. “I would never kill him!”
“Ah, that is it, isn’t it? You wanted to try out your Voice.” Celeste was sick at the thought, but couldn’t show it.
Lahni remained silent.
“Well, what did you tell him to do?”
“Nothing,” Lahni whispered. She floated a few feet above the ocean’s floor, her hair floating around her. “I wouldn’t have hurt him. I didn’t know the whales were there.”
Celeste swallowed hard, dreading the next answer. “Did you tell him to come swim with you?”
“He was still in the boat, wasn’t he?” Lahni answered, sullen. “I told you I wouldn’t have hurt him.” I think. I wouldn’t have hurt him on purpose, but he couldn’t hold his breath very long at all. Barely a minute. Why do humans even try to pretend they belong on the ocean, if they die in it so very quickly? And why didn’t my Voice work? The last question was by far the most important. Am I so very useless that I can’t even compel a weak-minded human to go for a swim with me?
Celeste stared at Lahni, taking in her darting gaze and stiff shoulders. “The boat was gone by the time I got there. Destroyed by the whales. Your human was already drowning.”
Lahni jerked her head up at the calculating tone in Celeste’s voice. “I didn’t make him get in, I swear! He had pulled me into the boat to save me, and was trying to get us out of there. We had to jump when one of the orcas landed on it! Why don’t you believe me?”
Because I know you, and what a temptation it is to connect with someone. Anyone. “If you say so,” Celeste finally answered. “He’s back on land now, and you’d better hope that he doesn’t say anything about tonight. It will be your fault if the humans come after us again.” Real anger infused her voice at the thought. “Their wizards are growing more powerful, and I’ve even seen a few fae in the water since the last time a human merely thought he spotted a mermaid.”
Lahni winced. “I know. You don’t have to tell me about it every single time someone mentions going to the surface.”
“No, Lahni, you don’t know. Humans are one thing, but the fae are completely different.”
Lahni cocked her head to the side, watching as Celeste swam to her spear and picked it up, a sure sign they were about to leave. “Why are fae so different? Isn’t,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “Ridley a fae?”
Celeste glared at Lahni. “Don’t worry about Ridley, and stay away from her grotto,” she ordered. “If I ever find out you’ve been there, I’m t
elling your father.”
Turning with a jerk of her head, Celeste led the way back to their city. Lahni trailed along behind her, deep in thought. Is she going to tell Papa about Sam? Or is Ridley somehow worse? She didn’t say, but it’s almost like she thinks Ridley is more dangerous than the humans, if that’s even possible.
“She needs a friend! More than one! You can’t keep her locked up in this castle all the time!” Celeste argued. “Sooner or later, she’s going to get desperate. And what will you do then? She’s going to be powerful, maybe even more so than you, and the last thing we need is for her to be ostracized. Friends would be her anchor.”
“Her anchor, ha! She doesn’t need anyone dragging her down! I’m the king, and she’s my daughter, so she’ll damn well stay where I tell her to!” Tidus shouted back. “She doesn’t need to be gallivanting around, getting up to who knows what kind of mischief! I’ve had reports of killer whales in the area, hunting merfolk, of all things! I’ve never even heard of them behaving in such a fashion, but now that they are, she’s absolutely not going beyond these walls.”
What about me? The thought flew through Celeste’s mind, unbidden. Aren’t I your daughter, too? She pushed it aside, already annoyed with herself for being dramatic. She knew her place and position was the best for everyone, and most days she didn’t mind at all. Was grateful for it, in fact.
Most days.
Occasionally, it was a little difficult getting up in the morning to the same routine, knowing that everyone whispered behind her back and wondered why she was allowed into the castle at all. As the bastard offspring of King Tidus, and prophesied Destroyer that would carry her people into battle, no one quite knew what to make of her.
No one but Lahni, that was. Celeste knew she owed her younger sister everything for saving her sanity. She had thought about leaving Morwen, with all of its problems and heartache, behind and going to the surface more than once, but the moment Lahni had been born, she’d only permitted Celeste to tell her what to do. The headstrong girl was constantly getting into trouble, even as a little squirt, leaving no one else capable of looking after her.
Which brought them to their current predicament.
“An anchor doesn’t just drag something down,” she said. “It steadies. Lahni is going to need someone to steady her in the coming years.”
King Tidus looked away, clearly dismissing the sentiment.
“You know she’s not going to listen,” Celeste felt obligated to point out.
“Then make her,” Tidus retorted. “Isn’t that your responsibility?”
Celeste gaped at him, unconcerned about showing her disbelief in court. “Isn’t looking out for her well-being supposed to be yours?”
He slammed one hand down on the table before him and glared. The water curled around her, agitated by his fury, even from up on the dias. “How dare you question me! My responsibilities include doing what’s best for the entire kingdom, not just one selfish child! I apologize if you find it so difficult to wrap your mind around the notion that I cannot bend to your every whim concerning Lahni, and feel as though some order is needed around here. Especially among my daughters!”
Celeste glared. “Perhaps if you paid a little more attention to your own heir, you wouldn’t have to handle everything by yourself! She needs direction, and if you won’t allow her out of the castle to find it, then you need to provide it here!”
“You do not tell me what to do, girl!” His voice thundered through the chamber, sending percussion waves through the water. “Now begone with you before I decide that you’re unfit even for the task of watching your little sister!”
Celeste bared her teeth at him in anger, uncaring who among the guards and attendants saw her. Whirling around with a flick of her tail, she took off, propelling herself out of the throne room and through the hallway beyond.
Chapter 3
Sam
Sam sighed as he realized that even though he’d been staring at the same piece of parchment for the last thirty minutes, his eyes moving over it by rote, yet he’d not actually read a single word. It could have been a spell for immortality, or a way to go back in time and somehow avoid the mess he currently found himself in, and he wouldn’t have an inkling of it.
He laid it down atop his desk and lowered his head to his hands, pressing his palms against his brow for a moment. The pressure did little to assuage the dull ache that had begun behind his eyes, and he wasn’t looking forward to the splintering pain he knew was coming next.
His head got like this if he tried to read too long, or in too little light. Which he knew, but hadn’t allowed it to stop him from staying up half the night, flicking through dusty old tomes that described life under the sea. Desperate to find something that would enlighten him about the gorgeous female that plagued his dreams, Sam had been searching for information for weeks.
Weeks.
All this time, wasted on something I probably imagined, he thought. “I have more important things to do than this.”
“More important things to do than what, my love?” Solange asked as she swept through the door, ignoring his multitude of requests that she not bother him in his study.
“How do you keep getting in here?” Sam asked, more bluntly than he’d intended. “I apologize, but the door was locked. We’ve discussed your penchant for coming in uninvited before.” And I discussed it with the guards as well, which doesn’t seem to have done much good. It looks like I need to replace someone.
Solange laughed as she waved her hand in the air, brushing his words away as though they meant nothing. “Nonsense. It wasn’t locked, and I can feel it when you need me, my king. Nothing would keep me from coming to your aid, no matter where you are.”
She set a hot cup of liquid on the desk before him, its steam wafting up with an acrid smell that he knew too well. Still, as awful as it tasted, it was the only thing that helped with his headaches.
He drank it in several large gulps, wanting to be done with it as soon as possible. “Thank you,” he grudgingly said as he set the cup back down. Tiny bits of herbs and sediment sloshed around in the bottom of the teacup, left behind with a few drops of liquid. He’d never asked what they were, not wanting to seem more interested in her than she already assumed.
“Of course, my king.” She walked around the desk, trailing her fingers over its surface in her wake. “What has been keeping you up this time? You have circles beneath your eyes. Perhaps I can be of some service.” Nearly purring her last words, she sat on the edge of the desk, putting her firm derriere within inches of his hand.
Sam leaned back in his chair, putting some distance between them. No matter how promising her curves or how helpful her tea, he could not get past the nagging feeling that she was not all that she appeared to be. Many people courted favor with the king, and he liked to think that he could discern between the genuine and false friends, but she continued to baffle him.
She treated his instructions with casual disregard that implied a familiarity between them, yet he had no recollection of how or when she became part of the court, much less so integrated into his daily life. No relatives or other acquaintances to speak of, Solange should have been an outcast, yet most deferred to her as easily as they did to him. Adding that to her wit, helpfulness and lovely visage, one could not help but be attracted to her.
At least, that’s what Sam told himself, even if he didn’t quite buy into it. Mainly because he wasn’t attracted to her, even a little bit.
There must be something wrong with me, he thought with a scowl. I shouldn’t get so annoyed with Solange. She only wants to help. But still, she has no right to be in here, and I don’t want it known that she treats my private study with such familiarity. People will talk. Perhaps that’s her goal.
That thought in mind, he rose from his chair and walked around the desk. Too late he realized that it looked as though he was running from her, so he selected one of the books he had been reading last night from the shelf an
d went back to his seat.
She leaned in, inspecting the title. “Mysteries of the Deep, eh, your majesty? I had not thought this would entice you at all. I suppose you have depths of your own, don’t you?”
Solange shot him a quick smile at her joke, then flipped the heavy tome open. It landed on a page about some monster fish with lights on its head and tentacles surrounding its face, presumably to snatch up prey and shove them into its gaping maw.
Fancy that, he could not help but think, Solange’s kin. Stifling his own smile, he glanced up at her to find that her face had gone pale, then splotchy in anger. It lasted but a fraction of a moment before the expressions were gone, leaving a teasing smile in their place and Sam wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I really am going crazy. Pere told me it occasionally happens to mortals with traces of fairy blood.
Like him. But he had more than just a trace, given that his grandfather was fully fae. Perhaps that was the answer to whether or not he had imagined Celeste and her little companion, the fairy blood was causing him to lose his mind.
“Have you ever seen the like?” she asked. “Imagine catching something like that on the end of your pole.”
“Wouldn’t happen,” he replied. “They live in the deepest, darkest part of the ocean. I don’t know of a fishing pole that could reach them.”
“Really, now? Then how did someone come to draw one in your book, if no one has ever seen them?”
He stopped, having to think about the question for a moment. She’s right. If they never come to the surface, how would we know? Unless someone saw one in its natural habitat. But who could go so deep? Who, aside from... Could someone like Celeste or her little friend have given us the information? But why?
“You’re right, of course. Someone must have caught one, or one washed ashore somewhere.” He stood, closed the book and put it back on the shelf. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Lady Solange, I have other matters to attend to. If you please.” He went to the door and held it open for her, a clear indication of his intentions.