Chapter Two: The Unwilling Warrior
Morning seeped gold into the sea, the surface glimmering finer than pearl. Nadine never tired of staring at it, though to its ceiling she dared not go. Unlike many of the queen's guards, she had seen the land of men, and barely survived to tell the tale.
She didn't like to think about it, or the means through which she had escaped. Yet as she travelled to the palace to report for her training, heavy thoughts muddled her mind. It was a matter of which evil she would rather consider—one she might forget about, or one that would haunt her future.
She closed her eyes and sighed. Rurriel's face hovered in her vision, green eyes and wide smile.
Green eyes... Shaking her head and trying to dislodge the memory beating at her temple, she flexed her tail in an effort to quicken her pace.
As she approached the training fields, she passed the Queen's Dome. She slowed, stopping to watch the gardeners in their work. Sea magick engulfed the dome in a protective wave, shielding the plants from rebel destruction and the fish from human nets. Her gaze trailed the dance of the wavering red sagari trees, their leaves scratching the outer perimeter like claws.
The restorers fluttered to and fro, shooing baby sharks out of their way as they struggled to ease life out of death. Other than that in the Dome, there was nearly no wildlife left.
Nadine almost swam over to the entrance and knocked on the door. It was too early for the sea-witches to rise, so many of her fellows started work before the sea grew light in order to avoid as much of their petulance as possible. She should have been one of them, coaxing sea-flowers from their sleep and singing them into health.
Her brand throbbed like lips after a kiss. She rubbed her fingers across it, frowning. There was no choice—just duty; duty to her queen, to her people. If duty said she must abandon one job for another, she had to do so. That was how it worked, if she wanted to survive to see the dawning of a new age.
And she did want to survive, to see the sea unfurl its true colours once more. Perhaps… perhaps even to be the hero who brought the sea's glory home on her shoulders, to be the Mer brave enough and clever enough to find the Book of Creation…
She banished the idea as soon as it entered her mind, laughing at herself. The Book was a myth, a hope whispered by elders to their tribes to give them something, anything, to believe in. Still… it was nice to hope, sometimes.
One of the Mer within the Dome noticed her watching and waved her over. She recognized Adna, a pretty young Mer girl who disliked Mara and the other sea-witches as much as Nadine. Adna pressed her face against the Dome's wall, her lips and nose mashed like seaweed pulp. You can come in, you know, she said. Don't stand out there like a spy. It gives me the chills.
Nadine traced a finger across the shimmering glaze of the wall. I'm not coming.
What? You don't mean— Adna's gaze fell on the curling welt of Nadine's soldier brand. Oh.
Nadine nodded.
So you're a solider now. I wonder how that will go.
Who knows? Maybe I'll stab the Vizier in the eye and get demoted again.
Adna paled, and Nadine scolded herself for being so flippant-tongued.
They stared at each other in silence, Nadine flushing for her error and Adna gnawing on her lip. Her eyes darted, fish scale silver and frightened. Her brother had been part of the rebel cause; but, unlike the sea-witches, he had had no magick the queen could use and the Vizier could manipulate. He had been executed after the royalists regained their power, his sister left to grovel for mercy.
Well, good luck, Adna whispered, her tail drooping. I hope—She paused. I hope they are good to you. With one last perfunctory smile, she returned to her flowers. Nadine rubbed her pounding temple and tried to ignore the ominous twist of her stomach.
When she reached the training fields behind the castle, the guards had already filed from their barracks. They wandered about, stretching and jabbing half-heartedly at one another. A few whispered amongst themselves, filling the seas with their high-pitched murmurs.
Esli was by herself, staring out beyond the castle, toward the mountains that shielded the Dark Seas in their gloom. What out there captured her attention? Nadine floated up behind her in time to hear the deepest, most mournful sigh breeze through her lips.
Nadine's heart dropped at the sound, so full of longing and despair that she hardly knew what to think. She was about to say something when Esli turned around, startling as the scabbard of her sword grated across Nadine's scales. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, and for the first time in a long while she was without a sharp remark.
Then she pressed her lips together and stared over Nadine's shoulder, the atmosphere gone cold. Nadine glanced behind her. The knot in her stomach coiled tighter, an octopi curled up and heavy.
From the ruins of the castle's record room came the Vizier, the young head of the sea-witches, and the even younger queen. The soldiers fell silent, their faces alert and watchful.
Welcome to all our new recruits, the Vizier said, his smile long and thin. He nodded at Nadine, and all the warriors turned to stare at her. She flushed at their hard-eyed appraisal, their amazement coursing through the currents curling past her ear. The Vizier's gaze stayed on her long after the others' had all fallen away. She forced herself not to cower, to meet his gaze without a flinch. But all she wanted to do was wrap herself in seaweed and burrow beneath the sand, lost to time and tyrants. The intensity of his eyes made her feel as though he could see right through her, past her skin to the blue glow burdened in her chest.
The queen smiled at her, the pearl crown sliding down her brow. She didn't say a word, hovering behind the Vizier as he inspected the guards.
You're looking thin, Danal. Be not afraid to swallow the entirety of your meals. The queen's warriors are aptly provided for, are they not? He watched the guard, eyes narrowed. Danal gulped and nodded, the human bones braided into his hair clacking against each other.
The queen's lips trembled and her brow furrowed, yet when the Vizier asked her what she thought, she said, You know best, certainly.
Anger surged in Nadine against the queen for allowing the Vizier to be in such complete control. She quashed it, however, so when the Vizier and the queen reached her, she could bow low without her quivering shoulders.
Nadine Nandernine, the Vizier commented. It is wonderful to have you with us.
Nadine forced the words past her lips, and her anger against the queen turned on herself. It is wonderful to be here. She could feel Esli's eyes searing her spine. When she straightened, she noticed an odd look on the queen's face, something between pity and disturbance.
The Vizier interrupted before Nadine could probe her cousin's features further. Esli.
Yes? The Mer girl swam up beside Nadine, their fins grazing.
You will help her train.
Esli's lips twisted, but she gave a curt bow. The Vizier, the queen trailing behind, moved on to the other warriors. Mara lingered, her bright red scales pulsing the same sheen of blood that marked her eyes. Would you like any help, Esli? The question might have been innocent of itself, but the sneer that twisted it was anything but.
Esli glared. I'm surprised you're up so early.
I wouldn't miss a chance to show you that you should have stayed amongst your own kind, Esli. Sea-witches aren't common, throwaway warriors. You should have stayed with us and honed your magick.
Esli stared down at her fins, clenching her jaw. The sea-witches were wrong in the civil war, she said. Why should I have anything to do with you?
Mara opened her mouth to protest, but Esli plunged on. And you know that we only surrendered to the royalists so we would survive. How can you know that the Vizier will trust—or need—you much longer? If he ever finds what he seeks… She looked up, a vicious smile gnarling her mouth. You will no longer be necessary.
Mara's pretty face mottled purple, her eyes flashing, her lips pursing. Her fingers curled into claws. Her tail lashed, her fins a whisper through the sand.
Nadine's heart dropped, her pulse pounding against her eardrums.
Esli froze.
All three hung over the field, Esli and Mara staring each other down, Nadine's muscles coiling in fear and anticipation.
Mara lunged, a snarl ripping from her throat. Esli lurched back, tail pumping and arms flying. There was a shout from behind them. Nadine's sight blurred into a convulsion of crimson and blue, blood and ocean threatening to consume her. She threw herself forward, knocking Esli to the ground as Mara's hands wrapped around her throat.
Nadine choked, thrashing and scratching at Mara's face. The other girl hissed and released her, whirling back to her prey. Nadine tossed her hair from her eyes and snatched Mara's fins, yanking her to the sand. Mara shrieked in outrage. You want to fight me, you stupid little gardener? Then fight!
Nadine—Esli sputtered. Stop it, you little idiot—
Her words were lost to the roar in Nadine's ears as Mara yanked her upright by the hair. The sea-witch's grip was stronger than weed that tangled around your tail and dragged you to your death. Nadine twisted, dragging her fins across Mara's tail. A few scales ripped open to expose the tender blubber beneath, but it was nothing compared to Mara's attack. She slashed Nadine's fins and tail and drew her claw-like fingers across Nadine's stomach, reopening old wounds that festered and oozed. Nadine's blood began to steam, the pain zipping through her like lightning through water.
Nadine gasped for breath, blinded by the blood dripping into her eyes and the dizzy sensation whirling through her head. Instinct took over. She rammed into Mara's body with all her weight, pinning the slender sea-witch to the sand. When Mara could no longer slash, her claws turned into fists that pummeled and bruised. Nadine focussed on keeping Mara down, panting with the effort. Her chest was stretching, the power within no longer asleep. Panic mingled with pain as Nadine struggled to keep it inside. If it burst forth now, all would know her secret. Mara would turn into her overseer, a constant tormentor.
A fist knocked Nadine's cheek. She flew back, landing on the sand with a thump that reverberated from the top of her head, through her neck and right down to the tips of her fins. Mara jumped on top, digging her elbow into Nadine's ribcage.
Faintly, Nadine could hear the queen begging them to stop. She could feel the cold currents gusting past her cheek, murmuring of death and destruction.
That is enough. The Vizier's voice cut through the chaos. Suddenly Nadine could breathe again. Hands wrapped around her arms, pulling her up. Voices, quiet and soothing, trickled through her consciousness. But it was darkness that won, darkness that pushed her down again, darkness that overwhelmed everything.
That was ridiculous! Esli snapped, tail whipping back and forth as she paced the Vizier's private apartment. The Vizier watched her as he sat at his table, his head cocked to the side. A smile crept across his handsome face. She shot him a murderous glance, though her fingers shook. Why didn't you say something earlier?
He shrugged. I wanted to see if her power would manifest itself.
I already told you about the flower I saw in the grotto!
He sneered. Flower. Sea-witches can make flowers grow. What I'm looking for is something far more powerful than a sea-witch's little tricks. Something that has been around since Time began.
Well, then why don't you just ask her? Why make me follow her around like a little spy? I hate having to pretend to be her friend! Part of her wanted to be more, but you couldn't build a relationship on lies. Besides, the other half of her balked at the notion of being Nadine's friend. Nadine, cowardly little Nadine!
Who fought for you, somewhere within her whispered.
Pretend? The Vizier's brows rose. Considering your relationship with Nathanael— Esli stiffened. Oh, you don't like me bringing that up. I see. Anyways, considering what you felt for him, I would have thought you would be kinder toward his poor little sister.
Adopted sister, Esli said automatically. Adopted sister. It made her feel less guilty. What would he say if he knew how she treated Nadine? Esli shook her head. It didn't matter. He had loved her long before Nadine had entered the picture—they had grown up together, surfing waves and hitching rides on sharks. Then Nadine had come, orphaned and inexperienced. She had become their tagalong. But no matter how much Nathanael doted on his sister, he had loved Esli best. She jutted out her chin.
He loved you best, she told herself.
The Vizier's laugh startled her from her reverie. You're still lovesick after that traitor, aren't you? Not surprising, since you're a sea-witch. Hmm, maybe she is one of you—
Impossible, Esli snapped. The Crystal-Keepers hated the sea-witches.
Must have given you quite the pleasure to destroy them, then.
Esli flinched. Not all of us were rebels—
Of course. The Vizier nodded, his tone falsely sympathetic. But not all of them were royalists, either. Which side were you on? I would hate to have to suggest to the queen that perhaps your allegiance lies more with your sea-witch sisters than…
Esli went quiet, gooseflesh shuddering up her arms. Sometimes she forgot just how powerful the man before her was. With one word, he could do to her what he had done to Nathanael's mother. He could strip her of everything—her past, her present… her hope for the future. In that moment, she remembered just how much she feared him—and how much she wanted to kill him. What do you want from me? Esli whispered. I've already given—
Keep watching her, and report everything back to me. I have a plan in place that may help flush her out.
If she is what you want her to be, Esli murmured, it's dangerous to keep her around.
He shook his head. It'd be more dangerous to let her go.
Nadine woke to softness at the back of her head, a sensation so familiar yet unfamiliar that it was startling. Above her, the coral had been etched by coral-patchers into intricate designs of dolphins and whales, octopi and sea-flowers. It was a dying trade. The colours and the dazzling beauty of it all sizzled between the spurts of pain that shot through her limbs.
She struggled to sit up. A gentle hand pushed her down. Stay, cousin. You will be doing no fighting for weeks. The voice sounded relieved. Nadine blinked and glanced over into the queen's pale, gaunt face.
Elealeh, she whispered. Was it all right for her to call the queen by her first name, as she had done when they were children? It must have been, for the queen had called her cousin. Nadine couldn't remember the last time the queen had acknowledged their kinship.
Elealeh smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. It unnerved Nadine to see her looking so old, when she was barely two winters ahead of herself.
I thought Mara had killed you for a moment, the queen said. I wanted to execute her, but Ithamar told me we couldn't risk upsetting the sea-witches. She sighed, stroking Nadine's hair from her brow. You and Ithamar are the only ones I can trust.
Nadine wanted to tell her that the Vizier couldn't be trusted, but she held back. The queen wouldn't believe her, and after losing her father and twelve brothers in the Battle of the Coral Castle, she needed someone. The Vizier had saved the princess's life that day and crowned her queen the next. Nadine knew the Elealeh wouldn't take kindly to anyone who slandered her saviour.
How long have I been here? she asked.
One day and one night. Mara's bruised you up quite a bit. The queen clucked her tongue and adjusted the seaweed wrap around Nadine's temple. I can't understand why Ithamar thinks you would make a good soldier.
Perhaps I'll be the training dummy, Nadine whispered. After all, Rurriel's gone. She winced at the acid in her voice.
The queen's fingers paused, trembling against the bandage. I am so sorry, Nadine, she said quietly. If I could have saved him—
Nadine shook her head and closed her eyes. Forgive me, she whispered. I'm just tired, is all.
Of course. Get some rest. She began to sing, the words weaving through Nadine's thoughts and into her soul, settling into her bones and beckoning sleep.
I sing a song of the sea
Of lonely desert wanderings
Of fin and tail, ship and sail
And love that forever prevails.
I sing a song of the sea
Of losing what was everything
Taken to a land of burning sun
Where suffering has just begun.
You may cut off my tail
Or take my precious scales
But you will never win a wish.
For a Mer is always a Mer
From the sea we were born
And to the sea we will always return.
The human boy with the bright green eyes stood over her. Heat dripped from the sky, wrinkling her scales and searing the blubber beneath. Her lungs heaved with every breath, choking on air so dry and crackling.
He cocked his head, curious.
She was trapped, trapped. She would die here in this cage, separated from family and the sea. Die here, to crumble into dust, without even the ocean to remember her. Gripping the iron bars, she struggled to gather the strength to snarl.
The scent of the sea tingled in her nostrils. So close, so close…
The cage clattered to the ground.
Nadine startled awake with a gasp. Beside her, the queen rolled over, the seaweed-braided blanket wrinkling under her weight. Are you all right? A sea-fire light glowed on the bedside table, illuminating the guards at the door. Neither moved a muscle. Nadine wondered if they were listening; if they were the Vizier's favourites, hand-picked for their fighting and eavesdropping skills.
She swallowed. Only a nightmare, she whispered.
The queen nodded. Her fins patted Nadine's tail and she squeezed her hand. Do you wish to talk about it?
Nadine shook her head. No.
The queen paused before whispering, All right. Good-night. Too late, Nadine realized that perhaps the queen had asked because she had nightmares that haunted her too.
As soon as she was well enough to move yet too pained to fight, Nadine determined to be the queen's aide. It wasn't healthy that all her advice came from one source—before the war, the King had gathered a Council consisting of the elders of the twelve Mer tribes. The Vizier had subtly avoided reconvening the Council with the excuse that the elders were all dead, or turned traitor.
One morning while the queen helped Nadine to rise, Nadine posed the question. Perhaps the Council should be brought back.
Elealeh paused in tying a string of pearls around her tail. For what purpose? Her fingers fluttered to twist her light brown-red hair into a knot.
If the kingdom is to continue its rebuilding process, Nadine said, choosing her words carefully, the tribes must be in complete unison. Gathering representatives from each one will help you to sort out what needs to be done where to ensure all are kept happy.
Elealeh pursed her lips. I suppose I could ask Ithamar—
Or you could surprise him. I'm sure he would be very pleased to see you growing into your position. Having the Council reconvene at your order would help establish your rule, as well.
Elealeh nodded, tearing the knot from her hair. The long shiny locks tumbled around her shoulders, and she raised her chin, a stony look in her light green eyes. Thank you, cousin, she said.
Nadine smiled. The guilt that prickled her for being so cunning in a world where the queen could trust so few was assuaged by relief. Even this small victory somewhat protected her cousin from the all-consuming influence of the Vizier, and whatever secrets infested his mind.
Advising the queen in certain matters helped distract Nadine from other pressures bearing down on her. Throughout the weeks of her incapacitation, she neither saw nor heard any hint of Esli. It was as though Nadine had risen to the surface never to return.
She masked her hurt by making herself not only Elealeh's aide, but also her companion. When the Vizier arrived to steal the queen's attention, Nadine invented an excuse to force her to stay—or for Nadine to go along.
The Council awaits you, the Vizier said, leaning against the doorframe. The queen lay sprawled across her bed, braiding her hair with flying fingers. Her eyes kept darting around the room, focusing on nothing, blinded by her own inner turmoil.
Nadine rose from where she had been weaving seaweed into rope, wincing at the spasms of pain that rushed through her tail.
Only the queen.
She, Elealeh squeaked. The Vizier turned to her, eyes narrowed. Elealeh swallowed and sat up, back rigid. She may come.
Nadine met the Vizier's thinly disguised glare with a polite smile that masked her own trembling within. The queen looped an arm through hers, and together they followed the Vizier out of the room.