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"Where did you get that mark?"
"I . . ." It would be wrong to say she doesn't know. But he wouldn't believe her. "It appeared a few days ago."
"So you're going to lie to me?"
"I'm not lying!" She snaps. "Why would I lie?"
Complete and utter silence from Orm. "Then why did you delay telling me?" he growls. "All this time you knew that symbol was the one of your people. If they're finally back, you could have told me."
She doesn't understand. Why is he so angry? Why is he staring at her so coldly?
"Orm . . ." She reaches for him but where he normally leans into her, he brushes her off. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. So much for trust I suppose."
Before she can say another word, Orm is gone, leaving her with silence and the almost certainty that dinner is burnt.
For what seems like hours, Aeryn wanders over the island. Finishes cleaning up the books, and the kitchen. Inspects her own wounds. She hasn't really paid attention to them in months, Orm always checked them and he always said, she was "slowly" getting better. And she was. But now Orm doesn't trust her anymore.
"Why would he want you anyway?" She murmurs to herself. "You're just damaged goods and he's a King for goodness sake."
"Yes he is."
She almost leaps out of her skin! Swinging around knife in hand, she's shocked to see a familiar face.
"Daniel?" The young man nods slowly. Where is he from? She knows his name, everything. He used to . . . to do something? Somewhere? And suddenly she feels very very sleepy. Like a freight train it hits.
"I've been searching for you for years Aeryn." She steps back as he steps closer. "Don't you remember me?"
"Don't come any closer!" She hisses. "How are you here?! How the hell did you get here when no one knows where 'here' is?"
"All good questions, but . . ." As she's debating how to slit his throat, Daniel reaches into his pocket, and draws out a vial. A vial that makes her heart go stone cold. "Maybe we can just skip all the non essentials. This, right here, is why I was searching for you."
"To give me a useless vial?"
"Are you really as healthy as you pretend to be?" Daniel smiles. "You pretend you are. You hide the blood in the morning, you smile and laugh in the hope that it will quiet this loud roaring in your head. And your skin will heal. But your body . . . no Aeryn. . . You are sicker than you have been in years."
Now she remembers. The vial. One vial, every start of every week. There was . . . a lot of throwing up. A lot of headaches. The Captain would inject her with a vial, and she would be just well enough for the next few days, to go through with their little experiments. Just well enough. Until the next dose.
"You must be completely mad if you think anything you could say, could convince me to take that off you."
"Fine." He slides it across the table. "Call me when you're puking up your guts."
"Not bloodly likely."
"We'll see. If you change your mind." He snaps his fingers, producing a piece of paper with a scrawled number on the front. "Number's on the sheet."
As soon as Daniel is gone . . . well . . . Orm doesn't want her there anymore. And Daniel, creepy though he is . . . she used to dream of a life where she was in control. Always fighting to stay alive, no time to actually think about what it means to be alive. She wipes a tear from her cheek. Maybe she did give Orm just a bit too much of her heart. Maybe it is time to get herself well. She can take the medicine. Get the hell out of this place. And maybe finally, discover what it means to be Aeryn. There's just one final barrier. The ocean.
"Orm!"
Mera. Always appearing where she isn't wanted. And yet here the army encamps. Concealed. Outside the borders of the ruin of the eighth kingdom. It has been two days since he left Aeryn. Two of the most confusing days of his life.
Her face when he slapped her away . . . but for Atlantis. She will understand. When he returns, she has to understand. It all comes to now and this broken wreckage of a once great kingdom. The sun is low and the water cold. Could this be foreshadowing the days ahead?
"What do you want Mera?" Orm snaps.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hisses. "Bringing the army to the eighth kingdom?! This is not where our attention should lie. The surface dwellers . . ."
"Can take a backseat," Orm finishes. "You're out of your depth here Mera. Why don't you return to Atlantis and fix your hair or something."
"Can't you sense it?" she bites back without missing a beat. "The gods condemned this place. It is written . . ."
"No Atlantan shall ever set foot on the threshold of the eighth kingdom. Yes I know."
"Then you would risk the gods wrath simply on an assumption . . ."
"It is not an assumption!" Orm growls. "I saw their mark on Aeryn."
Mera looks as if she's been slapped. "That's not possible. They can't have come back. All this time . .."
"You would think not. But I know what I saw. And I will not allow this threat to carry on festering under our very noses. If they survived, then they are plotting. It ends today."
Before Mera can respond, Targus, the head of Orm's guard approaches adorned in darkened scales.
"My King. The gates are opening."
"Finally," Orm smiles sinisterly. "I was wondering when they would get the message."
"Is this about Aeryn?" Mera asks. "What they did to her? That's no reason . . ."
Orm is in front of her before the sentence leaves her mouth. "Do not speak of what you could not possibly hope to understand Mera. You and the other children, playing your games . . . making bets. . . " Her face goes as white as a sheet. "You have no idea what they did to Aeryn. Now go. Before I have a guard escort you back. It's ending today."
And the Princess is left to watch in stony silence as the gates open and the King descends with his personal guard to the doom not only of Atlantis, but of the world.
"Oh Orm," she whispers. "It has only just begun."