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THE DAWN CAME HEAVILY, muffled in fog which hung over the sea some miles out from the shore. It seemed to be waiting. By the time Pharinet went down to the beach, the others were already there. Along the clifftop, the prince’s guards were a line of immobile silhouettes. Khaster had barely spoken to Pharinet since the previous evening. Again, she knew he’d been awake as she’d quietly dressed, but his back was turned to her. At that moment, she’d despised him. He seemed weak and ineffectual. The men upon the beach were very different: powerful, charismatic and slightly dangerous. Ellony did not look at all comfortable, but Pharinet expected nothing else. Valraven appeared to be the most cheerful. Pharinet studied him. Who was this man? How could someone be so familiar, yet a complete stranger? Bayard’s people had built a fire, which leaned away from the soft wind coming off the sea. The tide itself was tranquil, perhaps unusually so. Small wavelets fanned over the sand, barely on the retreat. Bayard wore a belted robe of dark red fabric. He was confident, in control, and clearly stimulated by what they were about to do. Pharinet was still astounded that Bayard dared to meddle with the sea dragons, and yet he appeared to have knowledge she did not, through the book of her ancestors, which his mother had kept hidden. Bayard?s own ancestors had once instigated the banishing of the dragons. Perhaps only a person of his tribe could reverse the process. “Is everyone ready?” Bayard asked. “Just get on with it, Bay,” Valraven said. “It’s cold out here.” He seemed to be faintly amused by the proceedings, but not entirely at ease. Bayard glanced at Pharinet. “I will instruct you in what to do. Are you happy with this?” She shrugged. “You know more than I do.” Ellony coughed quietly into a handkerchief, shivering in her cloak. Bayard stood before the fire and raised his arms. The wind caught in the folds of his sleeves, made wings of them. “We meet here to recall the ancient covenant,” he said. His voice was not loud, but carried far above the sounds of wave and flame. “Lady Pharinet,” he said, and held out his hand to her. She went to stand before him, and he put his hands upon her shoulders. She was conscious of his body behind her, its male heat. “Call to them,” Bayard said in a whisper. “Summon the Dragon Daughters of Foy, the Three: Jia, Misk and Thrope.” “How?” she murmured back. “With your body, with your blood, with your energy,” he answered. “I will direct into you the breath of the dragons, the life force, which is in all things.” His hands were hot upon Pharinet’s shoulders. Her flesh began to tingle as if an unheard tone resonated through it. “I want you to make a journey in your mind,” Bayard said. “Close your eyes.” Pharinet did so. She could hear the crackle of the flames, the slow heave of the sea, and somewhere a bell was tolling mournfully through the sea mist. “You are travelling out of your body,” Bayard said. “You are entering the water. Feel it swirl about you. Feel its power.” Bayard’s lilting voice was hypnotic. Pharinet found it easy to follow his instructions. He told her what to see, what to feel, and the sensations in her mind were so acute, it was as if she was experiencing them physically. She became oblivious of the presence of Valraven and Ellony. Her mind was drawn out over the gentle tide and plunged down beneath it. She rushed downwards, streaming a trail of bright bubbles. There was only chilly murk beneath her, yet dim glows pulsed through it. She imagined stately jellyfish, with trains of deadly rags and spines. She thought she saw great sinuous fishy tails undulating beneath her. She hung in this night water like a jellyfish herself, faintly pulsing. “Call to them,” Bayard said, his voice a plash of water, hitting a heated rock. “Call to the creatures who attend the dragons’ court. They dwell in the great abyss, where the black steam of the earth rises from vents encrusted with grey barnacles. They sleep among the darkened coral. They breed in caves. They are the anointers of the old ones, and sing secret songs to appease great Foy in her repose. Their fingernails are daggers of ivory, and their teeth are the teeth of sharks. Their blood is black. Their voices have the sweetness of death, yet they sing of life. They hate those who walk the land, yet are subject to them, for their souls are smaller. See their pearly eyes. See their waving hair. They are Ustredi, the merfolk, and they will hear you. As you call to them, so their city will appear before you. I want you to see them swimming in their dark, ruined temples in the deepest abyss of the ocean floor. See them become aware of your presence. My voice will aid you, but you must be the channel.” He began to croon a wordless chant, which gradually rose in timbre. The sound blended with the soft cry of the wind and the sussurus of the waves. Pharinet leaned back against Bayard’s body. In her mind, she could see the milky eyes glowing through the dark ocean. They watched her with apprehensive hostility. Pharinet opened her mouth and expelled a sound, a sound which derived from the song that Bayard sang around her. This agitated the Ustredi, who began to swim around her swiftly. Some were fish-tailed, while others had what appeared to be boneless legs equipped with fins. Some did not have arms, but great flippers. Some had beautiful faces and hideous bodies, while in others these aspects were reversed. A few were too lovely to gaze upon, and these Pharinet sensed were the most dangerous. The murk cleared, or perhaps her inner eye had become accustomed to the darkness. She hung above a vast range of cliffs. Buildings were set into their faces, constructed of cyclopean stones. All the entrances were triangular, and the lines of the buildings were stark and symmetrical. Pharinet sensed immediately that they were deserted. The thousands of Ustredi, of countless variety, who swam in and around these edifices were not the people who’d built them. Pharinet wondered if this part of the ocean floor had once been above sea level, and what she looked upon now was the remnants of a sunken civilization. There was little time to ponder this. The Ustredi had begun to swim closer to her, brushing her with their fins. A couple peered into her face, their mouths hanging open like fishes?, displaying combs and coronets of spiked fangs. They raked her with their claws, but applied no pressure. They wanted to tear her limb from limb, but could not. Sailors who fell from ships were their prey, and those who dared to swim in the great ocean, but a daughter of the Palindrakes was safe from them. They could smell her warm blood and recognize it. “Ustredi,” she cried in her mind, and the sound of it flowed out into the ocean she imagined. “Ustredi, hear me. I am Pharinet Palindrake, and I am your mistress. I command you now to bring forth your dark sisters, the Dragon Daughters. Bring to me Jia, Misk and Thrope. They must awaken Foy, the ancient queen. It is time for her to rise. It is time for her to shake off the coral that encases her. Her daughters must swim beneath her belly and bring her forth from her black sleep. Oh Ustredi, do not ignore my command.” Pharinet did not expect the response to be so swift and violent. As soon as the summoning left her mind, the sea began to boil. The Ustredi swirled in confusion around her. She could hear their voices. Some hurt her ears, while others were sweet beyond imagining. The towering underwater mountains around her seemed to shake and huge oily bubbles rose up from the ocean floor. Something immense and powerful stirred beneath the rock, behind the facades of one of the buildings. “Foy!” Pharinet cried. Where were the daughters? A cry fluted out, like the call of a whale and a thousand seabirds combined. Waves of force erupted out of the abyss and hurled Pharinet’s body backwards. She was caught in a wild swell, tossed helplessly among the tangled limbs and fins of the mewing Ustredi. Then, with a gasp, she opened her eyes and found herself standing on the seashore, Bayard’s hands cold upon her shoulders. He was breathing heavily, and she had no doubt he had shared her visualization. The appearance of the sea had not changed, but Pharinet sensed a difference in the atmosphere. The air was so still, as if a storm was coming. The sea fog seemed nearer to the land. Valraven and Ellony stood apart some feet away. Valraven looked slightly disapproving, but puzzled. Ellony’s eyes were staring wildly, as if she too had caught a glimpse of Pharinet’s vision. “They are coming,” murmured Bayard. “Take their force into yourself and pass it to the sea wife.” “Will she be safe?” Pharinet asked. Whatever conflicting feelings she had for Ellony, the sight of her friend looking so vul
nerable and afraid pulled at her heart. Doubts wriggled through her, terrible doubts. “It is her true function,” Bayard murmured. “And as you told me, she was marked.” But for what? Pharinet wondered. She sensed something immense and invisible rushing towards her, like a tornado. It was a formless energy that could tear her body to fragments. It rolled over the ocean, twisting and spiralling. Had she called this? Was it the spirit of Foy? How could she tell? Bayard had not released his grip on her shoulders. His fingers felt like nails driving against her bones. “Bring the wife to you,” he said. Pharinet shivered and turned her head. Her eyes met Ellony’s gaze and she held out her hand. “Come here, Ellie.” Ellony frowned. “Why, Pharry? What’s happening? I can feel something. What are you doing?” “Trust me,” said Pharinet and waggled her fingers. Valraven merely watched, saying nothing. The strange light had taken on a greenish quality, which Ellony’s pale face reflected. She looked inhuman. “Come to me,” said Pharinet, and as if entranced, Ellony finally obeyed. She slipped her cold, slim hand into Pharinet’s strong fingers. When this is done, Pharinet thought. We will all be stronger, and Val will know his heritage. At that moment, she felt no jealousy for Ellony at all. “What’s coming?” Ellony asked. “Don’t you know?” Pharinet murmured. “Can’t you sense it?” Ellony frowned. “I don’t know what it is I sense.” “It is Foy,” Pharinet said. Ellony stared at her with wide eyes. “It can’t be.” “It is, and she’s coming to you.” “No!” Ellony tried to take her hand from Pharinet’s grip, but Pharinet only closed her fingers around her with greater strength. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “This is your moment, Ellie. You are the sea wife.” Ellony twisted in Pharinet’s hold. She turned her head and appealed to her husband. “Val, stop them. Please stop them.” Valraven’s face looked almost black. He did not move. Pharinet could see the fire in him, a smoky shadow all around him. He might not know what was happening, but something inside him did. “Prepare yourself,” Bayard said to Pharinet. “They are upon us.” Pharinet looked out at the sea. She could see nothing, but could sense an immense boiling energy that hovered close by. It was terrible, an utterly impartial force, with the potential for complete destruction. Filled with Bayard’s strength, she willed this force to enter her and to stream from her body to Ellony’s. She closed her eyes and waited. But no energy came. Her body remained unmoved. Ellony uttered a shriek. Pharinet opened her eyes. Her right hand, which had been holding Ellony’s was completely numb. She had not felt Ellony break away from her. Now the girl staggered and reeled on the spot, beating at her head. Hideous sounds came from her lips, sounds of pain and terror. Pharinet glanced at Bayard. “It’s gone straight to her.” “Yes.” He released her. “Do something,” Pharinet said. “She can’t take it.” Bayard strode over to her and tried to take hold of her, but Ellony slithered away. “Take control!” he shouted. “This is not Foy, but the presence of her daughters. They are yours to command.” Ellony suddenly raised her face to him and her features were set in an ugly snarl. She looked like an Ustredi, green-skinned with milky eyes. The sight of her appeared to shake Valraven from his stasis. “What’s happening to her?” he demanded. “She’s having a fit.” He went to his wife’s side, tried to embrace her. Ellony fought off all attempts to constrain her. She struck out fiercely with her hands, uttering guttural snarls. This isn’t going right, Pharinet thought. Bayard did not expect this. She glanced back at the sea and saw that the thick fog was now an impenetrable wall only a few feet from the shoreline. It was not natural. Something was inside it. Something of immense power and hunger. She saw movement within the fog, vague darting shapes. “Bayard,” she said. He was still helping Valraven with Ellony. He did not hear her. Shadows oozed out of the fog like black oil, slithered across the dirty foam at the water’s edge. “Bayard!” Pharinet’s voice was a desperate cry. The men turned towards her. She could not see properly. She was enveloped by a pulsing darkness that felt hot and cold at the same time. It was seeping into her, running fingers through her thoughts. She could hear laughter, cruel and low. Valraven and Bayard were surrounded by spinning columns of darkness that Pharinet saw with her mind rather than her eyes. She could not warn them. Whatever held her in its grip had frozen her tongue. Ellony’s body was lunging where she stood, as if she was underwater, fighting a powerful current. Coarse brutal sounds came from her throat, from somewhere deep inside her. She began to straighten up, and her eyes glowed with a faint green light. Then, someone was running across the hard sand towards them, from the direction of the cliffs. At first, Pharinet didn’t recognize who it was, but quickly realized it was Thomist. Behind him, Everna was clambering over the rocks outside the sea-cave. She appeared to be shouting, but the thick still air muffled her voice. Her fists were bunched and raised in anger. Whatever precautions Bayard’s men had taken, they had not known about the secret cliff entrance to the sea cave. Everna must have been watching the whole procedure from the shadows of the cave. Pharinet felt filled with relief, a reaction she had not expected. Everna knew how to deal with Ellony. She’d calm her down. Everna would make all this strangeness go away. Thomist had reached Ellony and wrapped a heavy cloak around her. She was moaning and sobbing now, while he offered words of comfort. Everna marched with purpose towards them all. “Are you insane?” she snapped, looking at Pharinet. “Can’t you see that Ellie isn’t up to whatever it is you’re doing. I’m surprised at you, Pharinet, I really am.” She turned on Valraven. “And you, you know how ill she’s been. I can’t believe you’d condone this!” While Everna continued to rail at her brother and sister, Pharinet saw Ellony’s head lolling against Thomist’s shoulder. Her face still looked green and the expression on it was one of cruelty and cunning. She was no longer moaning piteously. She was silent and smiling. It looked as if her teeth were broken and pointed. Her hair had come adrift from its confinement and hung in tendrils over her face, like mermaid’s hair, like weed. Pharinet experienced a stab of dire premonition, but then Ellony expelled a gust of evil laughter. With inhuman strength, she began to drag Thomist towards the waves. Everna shrieked out a warning, Bayard and Valraven rushed forward, but in the next moment, Ellony had disappeared into the sea. Completely, without leaving a ripple. She had taken Thomist with her. Valraven ran into the waves, until they reached his waist. He called her name. Everna stood in mute shock, her hands to her face. “Do something!” Pharinet gasped at Bayard. “Dispel the power. Bring her back!” Bayard looked dazed. A dark mist still hung around him. The air smelled strongly of rotten seaweed. “It’s not possible,” he said, and Pharinet was unsure of what he meant. She still felt strange in her body, but whatever alien thing had gripped her flesh seemed to have fled. Perhaps she had imagined it. She ran down to the sea. “Val, come back. Don’t go into the fog!” He was standing in front of it, splashing his hands in the water, as if he hoped to draw Ellony out of it. Everna stood screaming out Thomist’s name. Bayard’s men, alerted by the commotion, were now running across the sand towards them. “Val!” Pharinet grabbed hold of his arm. The sea sucked at her skirts, tried to drag her towards the fog. “Come back.” “We have to find them,” he said. “Pharry, they’ll drown. We have to find them.” Pharinet looked around herself frantically. There was no sign of Thomist or Ellony at the edge of the waves, and beyond that was the greeny-white wall of mist. “We can’t. Let the men look. We must go back to Caradore, get help.” He looked up at her, his face that of total vulnerability. He was a boy again, confused because the world had acted against him. “Pharry, what did we do? What was it all about? I felt something.” He rubbed his wet hands against his face. “It was so cold. It took Ellony, didn’t it? It went into her. We made it come.” He looked back at Bayard. “He did.” Pharinet took hold of his arm. “Come on, Val.” She felt sick now, and disoriented. Gradually, the implications of what had just happened were sinking in. Ellony had gone. You wished it, a spiteful inner voice murmured. Isn’t this what you want? “No,” Pharinet said aloud. “No!”
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