Monsters & Mist

by Taylor Fenner

  “That is what I have returned to tell you, Your Majesty,” Daegan clears his throat to get Carina’s attention.

  Carina inspects him like he’s a bottom feeder who has no business interrupting her speech. “Oh?”

  “I have news regarding the movements of Queen Lyra of Vacantia.” Daegan shifts his weight on the rough coral chair he’s seated on.

  Carina glances at Andromeda, trying to determine whether she should send her back to the infirmary or let Andromeda hear what Daegan has to say.

  “It’s all right,” Andromeda sighs. “Daegan has already filled me in.”

  “Very well,” Carina clenches her jaw and motions to Daegan, “continue.”

  As Daegan fills Carina in about Andromeda’s mother, erm, Lyra stealing the throne and ordering the deaths of all Perscesians Andromeda drums her fingers against the prickly coral armrests of her chair and looks around the strategy room. Like much of the rest of the underwater palace, the strategy room is constructed entirely of luminous blue sea glass that requires no internal lighting in the room because the glass casts its own form of light. Carina’s seat at the head of the table is a massive glossy black and red lava stone replica of her throne, much more comfortable than the coral chairs lining the rest of the table. Two guards stand at the entrance to the room, each holding a trident whose prongs glisten in the light. The only other furniture in the room is the massive table, one of the most unusual things Andromeda has ever seen.

  All Carina has to do is sweep her arm across the surface of the smooth glass tabletop and the clear glass fogs and shifts into a moving picture, showing Carina what she desires to see within the palace, out in the city of Faeloria, and the sea beyond the city walls. It is strange magic indeed.

  “Andromeda,” Carina says her name, possibly not for the first time, to get her attention.

  “Yes?” Andromeda snaps her eyes up to Carina’s golden stare.

  “I asked if it would be acceptable to you?” Carina repeats what Andromeda has missed. “In light of the news from Vacantia, for your safety I insist that you have a guard with you at all times, even stationed outside your door while you sleep.”

  The shock and horror must show on Andromeda’s face because Carina is quick to add, “I’m promoting Daegan to guard you since you’re already familiar with him.”

  “What?” Daegan sputters as Andromeda echoes the sentiment. Daegan grips the coral armrests so hard the coppery scent of blood hits Andromeda’s nostrils. “But I’m a hunter, not a bodyguard.”

  Carina arches a slim eyebrow, “Do you dare question your queen?”

  “No, of course not, Your Majesty,” Daegan replies quickly, chastened.

  “Good.” Carina flashes a predatory smile. “Then it is settled. Daegan, please escort Princess Andromeda back to the infirmary. You need your rest dear, but don’t worry. You’ll be up and about before you know it.”

  Andromeda purses her lips as she allows Daegan to help her from her seat and escort her from the strategy room. Something makes Andromeda pause at the doorway and look back at Carina. The queen’s confident countenance has rushed from her the moment Daegan and Andromeda turned their backs to leave the room and now the queen sits slumped in her seat dabbing at wet eyes. Andromeda’s stomach clenches and she feels horrible for wanting to leave the palace.

  The doors click shut behind Daegan and Andromeda as they move into the hallway. The man and the boat that brought them from the palace entryway to Carina’s strategy room waits, the boat tied to the floor where the corridor meets the waterway and Daegan lifts Andromeda gingerly and places her in the vessel before sliding in across from her.

  They don’t speak as the ferryman unties the boat and pushes away from the floor. Even the ferryman remains mute as he dips the oar into the water and propels the vessel toward the infirmary. Water slaps the side of the boat and Andromeda marvels at the sound, surprised to hear it when they are completely submerged in water and yet the only liquid that acts as water lies in the waterway beneath the boat’s hull.

  “I’m not any happier about this than you are,” Daegan finally says. He refuses to look at Andromeda as he watches the corridors pass at their sides.

  “I don’t mean to interfere with your important… whatever it is that you do.” Andromeda curls her lip in annoyance at his churlish words.

  “I’m a hunter, thank you very much,” Daegan retorts as he glances in her direction then looks away.

  “Oooh,” Andromeda draws the word out sarcastically. “You kill things.”

  “No,” Daegan snaps, “I search for things, for people, and gather information for Queen Carina.”

  “I see,” Andromeda snorts. “I guess you didn’t do a very good job if it took you eighteen years to find me.”

  “My family suffered greatly for not finding you sooner,” Daegan looks down at his hands. “We were once regarded with respect and honor throughout the kingdom but when my father and uncle were unable to find a trace of you after you were taken we were scorned and ostracized. I was just a wee thing at the time myself, but growing up I could see the way some people treated us.”

  Andromeda frowns feeling like a jerk. The raw vulnerability shows clearly on Daegan’s face even though he tries to hide it from her. “Tell your father and uncle not to punish themselves for not finding me. My mother, erm, Lyra would have made finding me impossible. There’s something about her, the way she wins people over and manipulates others that I don’t think she is what she appears to be. There’s something… more about her.”

  “I’ve written to them about your return,” Daegan admits softly. “I’m sure they are rejoicing that you’ve been located.”

  “Do you see them often?” Something about the way Daegan talks about his family, the hushed reverence, tells her he doesn’t.

  “No,” Daegan shakes his head. “When the title of Royal Hunter was stripped from my Father we moved to the outer reaches of the sea, far away from Faeloria. We took odd hunting jobs and information seeking excursions from time to time and a year ago I took over from my father, manning the Internment as general of my own crew. I wanted to make my father proud and redeem our family in the eyes of Perscesia and Queen Carina so every free moment that my crew was not on a job I was out searching for the lost princess, for you.”

  “I bet I was far from what you were expecting to find,” Andromeda chuckles darkly.

  “Were you ever,” Daegan laughs and whistles. “You haven’t made it easy on me so far.”

  “I’m sorry,” Andromeda bites her lip. “I’ve always been a bit of an odd one and I learned my fierce independence from my da.”

  “Do you ever think you’ll accept your place here?” Daegan looks at her for the first time since they left Carina’s strategy room.

  Andromeda shrugs, “I can’t answer that honestly. I’m still trying to figure out who I am here.”

  “Okay,” Daegan nods. “All I can ask is for you to try. For the queen’s sake, and for the kingdom. We’re not the monsters you were raised to fear. Sometimes the scariest monsters are those that wear the skin of your loved ones.”

  ❖

  Daegan

  The princess falls silent as the ferryman pulls the gondola up against the corridor leading into the infirmary. Something has shifted in her demeanor since Daegan told her about his father and uncle. He knows things are difficult for her since she found out who and what she is but she needs to give a little. Maybe she’s finally starting to see that.

  Daegan still can’t believe the princess stole a seaskipper and tried to fly it over the gate to the city. When she crashed into the sand Daegan had to be stern with her but inside he was in awe of her. The girl has a spark within her, a fight, a drive. It’s the type of spark that will make her a force to be reckoned with someday.

  Before Daegan can assist her, Andromeda hops from the gondola onto the tile floor and strides to the infirmary door. Daegan nods his thanks to the ferryman and jumps to the floor to join her. H
er long, glossy hair has been plaited into a long braid and it swishes back and forth slapping her retreating back as she shoves the door open and stalks inside.

  “Back to the white abyss,” Andromeda sighs.

  Daegan glances at the infirmary, taking it in for the first time. While the rest of the palace is made of blue sea glass, the infirmary walls are made of sculpted whale bones smooth to the touch. The ribs of the massive beasts arch across the ceiling like the underside of a ship. Polished white stones cover the floor and large shells converted into sconces line the walls. The room is filled with two rows of cots from the door to the far wall.

  Andromeda runs her hand across the foot of every bed before stopping in the middle of the row and sitting down at the head of the bed.

  Pulling the covers over her legs she closes her eyes and lets out a pleased sigh, “At least the bed is comfortable.”

  Daegan sits down on the side of the bed next to hers and slips off his boots.

  Andromeda opens her eyes and says, “What are you doing?”

  “Taking my boots off,” Daegan states the obvious. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

  “I see that,” Andromeda narrows her eyes. “But why? Carina just said she’d place a guard at the door to the infirmary.”

  “Were you listening at all?” Daegan smirks. “Where you go, I go, Princess.”

  “But-" Andromeda’s eyes widen in horror.

  “While there is indeed a guard at the door,” Daegan says slowly just to annoy her, “I’m not to leave your side day or night.”

  “This is a nightmare,” Andromeda rubs her eyes furiously. “It just has to be.”

  “Nope,” Daegan laughs.

  “So what? You’re just going to sit there and watch me sleep?” Andromeda wrinkles her nose.

  “Pretty much.” Daegan grins. “It will be just like we’re back on the Internment.”

  A pillow smacks him in the face giving him Andromeda’s opinion on the situation. Daegan laughs and tosses the pillow to the floor as Andromeda sinks further under the blanket and turns her back on him.

  “Good night, Princess,” Daegan says hopping further onto the bed and laying down. He laces his hands behind his head and takes a deep breath. Andromeda was right, these beds are fantastic. Just like sleeping on a cloud in the sky.

  ❖

  Thane

  Thane’s high from the Warrior’s victory against the rebels fades with Octavia’s words. There’s something I need to tell you. He’s not sure he can handle any more surprises or betrayals at this point. He went from being happy that Octavia had made it through the uprising relatively unscathed to nervous about what she’s about to say.

  “What is it?” he asks warily.

  “It’s something I’ve never told you about my past,” Octavia fiddles with a hole in her sleeve. “About where I came from.”

  “I don’t follow,” Thane says slowly as he narrows his eyes.

  “You know how there are Mistborn and then people born on land and the old ones, the Waterborn? I’m different, I’m not any of those things.”

  “Um,” Thane blinks down at her unsure of what to say. “Spit it out, Octavia.”

  Octavia tugs a chunk of her hair back into her long plait and stares off into the distance, “My people come from the clouds and the land of the gods. We are descendants of the celestial goddess, Adventrya which is why I was born with this cluster of stars on my face. It’s a map showing me the way back home. We call ourselves Starborn.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense. You,” Thane shakes his head as he sees his friend in a new light. “I don’t know what you’re telling me or why. You’re telling me an insane story, that you’re a descendant of a goddess I’ve only heard of in myths, but for what reason? Why tell me now? What good will it do?”

  Octavia’s face shutters and Thane feels a pang of guilt. “I doubt this is the last we will see of Garlyn and I foresee trouble ahead from Queen Lyra. I’ve had a bad feeling about her for some time now. I was merely telling you about my heritage because my people were blessed by our mother goddess with certain affinities. Abilities to bend and mold time and elements and twist the minds of man. They could be a great asset if we had to defend ourselves against Garlyn or the Queen in the future. I wanted to be useful, but I can see you’re not interested.”

  Thane watches in shock as Octavia stalks away.

  She gets maybe ten paces away before she turns around and storms back to him eyes ablaze and skin abuzz with a bluish energy. “No, you know what, you’re going to listen to me. We’ve been friends since we first arrived at this place. I’ve looked up to you and looked out for you. I’ve kept your secrets and included you in all of my adventures. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I just thought that someone with origins like yours would be able to understand me wanting to keep my heritage a secret unless the knowledge would be beneficial. But you know what? Believe me or don’t believe me, I don’t care. Perhaps I should track down Prince Cygni, I’m sure he would be grateful for what I know and what I could bring to the table.”

  “Octavia,” Thane reaches for her but she moves out of his reach. His face darkens, “There's a difference between being the son of a slave and a Vacantian noble and being what, a junior deity?”

  “Forget it,” Octavia shakes her head angrily. “You don’t deserve me anyway.”

  Thane shakes his head and stalks toward Rian’s destroyed workshop. The bladesmith is helping the other warriors assess damages so nobody is around to witness as Thane throws his entire weight into punching the solid wood column holding up the roof overhang. The wood splinters and cracks beneath Thane’s already bloodied knuckles and he feels a crunch in the bones of his hand but ignores it as he sinks into a crouch and grips the thick, long hair at the back of his head in his fists.

  Everything is going to shi’ite around him, from the rebels and Andromeda’s disappearance to Octavia’s moodiness and expectations. Why did she have to bring up his parents? Yes, his mother was a Losteroan slave which accounted for his sickly pale skin and eyes that shifted from lavender to black but growing up as his father’s son, the son of one of the richest men in Vanyia had meant that people didn’t question his lineage, and for good reason. Thane’s father had enough money and influence to destroy people, and the fact that he had had two sons with one of his slaves was a scandal he challenged people to gossip about.

  Thinking about his family always made Thane angrier because thoughts about his parents always turned into thoughts about his brother who’d been taken so long ago. The image of Andromeda’s face flickered at the forefront of his mind. He should hate her. He should want her dead. He should declare her his mortal enemy, demand that she tell him what had happened to his brother, and so many other things but all Thane really felt was the sharp sting of failure. Everyone that ever depended on him disappeared. And King Pavo had thought it was wise to make him General of the Watierai Warriors - and now he was dead too.

  Chapter 14

  Andromeda

  “You appear to be healing as expected,” the royal physick decides as he examines Andromeda. “Even with your setback last night, your ribs are nearly healed and I only see a little tenderness around your coastal cartilage and inter-coastal muscles.”

  “Coastal cartilage? It sounds like the sea is inside my body,” Andromeda jokes as the physick uses a large shell to listen to her heart.

  “That it does, Your Highness,” the physick indulges her. As he finishes his examination Andromeda shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Daegan who sits on the bed opposite her narrow infirmary bed and polishes off a bowl of octopus egg and seaweed broth. “As for your scars, Princess, they will fade over time. Your skin has knit itself together nicely, but unfortunately other than the reduction of swelling on your face, the scars from the burns you sustained will never fade. Even with our advanced techniques and tonics, there is nothing we can do to make them less noticeable.”

  “I understan
d,” Andromeda sighs. “So much for being beautiful.”

  The physick startles not realizing that she jests. “Surely Your Highness will be beloved by your people, scars and all. It’s a sign of your bravery and endurance.”

  “I think the princess is more concerned about male suitors finding her attractive,” Daegan snorts as he uses sea sponge bread to scoop up the last of the octopus eggs in his bowl. “But don’t worry, Highness. Most men will marry anyone for a title, even the most horrifying creature they could behold.”

  The physick looks at Daegan in horror, no doubt shocked that anyone would dare talk to a member of the royal family in the manner Daegan just did.

  Grinning humorlessly Andromeda says, “Why thank you, that’s very reassuring indeed.”

  “Glad to be of service.” Daegan smirks.

  The physick clears his throat, “The point I was trying to make, Your Highness, is that you’re clear to move to your own quarters in the palace. You no longer need to stay in the infirmary.”

  “Thank the gods,” Andromeda sighs as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and places her bare feet on the cold tiles. The physick stands and bows before excusing himself. Andromeda looks at Daegan and raises an eyebrow in challenge, “So, where to next?”

  Daegan opens his mouth to respond at the same time Carina glides into the infirmary. Dark blue stones glitter against the twisted gold of her crown, beautifully complimenting the long, flowing gown she wears. The material sparkles, its’ color so dark purple it’s nearly black with a thin gossamer overlay that makes the gown look like a sea of stars swathing her body.