Chapter Three: Of Hope Sings Heartbreak
The council room was stifling. Torch glow spread across the walls, illuminating the pocks and grooves that reminded Nadine of eyes. The queen had chosen a tiny chamber off the Grand Hall in which to hold the meeting, as it was one of the few that had remained intact after the Battle of the Coral Castle.
Nadine gnawed at her nails, gaze flickering from one face to another. Most she recognized, if only from afar—Serna, one of the oldest Sea Sisters, the head women of the tribes; Jialel, another Sister… and Mara. Of course. The sea-witches had to have their representative.
Mara met her gaze, her upper lip curling. A stone settled in Nadine's stomach.
The queen sat at the head of the table, the Vizier by her side. He had claimed the seat before Nadine could grab it, and she hadn't wanted to make a scene in front of the most powerful Mer.
Now as she watched Elealeh swallow and search for words, she wished she'd had the courage not to care.
As Nadine had expected, Serna spoke first. Her low voice grated, shell against stone. Why have you called us from our duties?
The queen glanced at Nadine, brow furrowed. Before either could speak, the Vizier did. I have a proposition.
I'm sure you do. Serna glared at him; he smiled back, as cool and calm as a shark. The old Mer woman's shoulders stiffened. She drew herself up, her long moon-white braids sliding across her arms.
What is it? Jialel asked, leaning forward. She was too young and her tribe too isolated to have much experience with the Vizier; from what the queen had told Nadine, Jialel had only come to power because the rest of her tribe were children, orphans with no one to lead them but a girl hardly much older than themselves.
Just like the rest of the kingdom, Nadine thought, tensing. She watched the Vizier from the corner of her eye, trying to avoid catching his attention but too intrigued to look away.
The Vizier sat back, resting his head on his arms with a lazy smile. Serna inhaled sharply. Nadine sank lower into her seat, dread tickling her fins.
The Merteri amulets.
A cold blanket of silence soaked the chamber, along with a chill that sank deep into Nadine's bones. Insanity, she thought. Utter insanity.
What for? Serna choked out.
Jialel sat blinking and scratching her head. She looked from Serna to the Vizier and back again. Then, blushing, she murmured, What—what are the… the… Merteri amulets?
The Vizier nodded his head at Nadine. I believe you can explain it better than I, can you not, daughter of the Crystal-Keepers? Serna clenched her jaw. Jialel giggled nervously. Nadine half-rose in her seat as something within her surged, pushing and tearing at her skin.
Mara stared down at her hands, cheeks stained red.
Yes, Nadine choked out at last, past the grief and the anger pulsing across her tongue. She stood, fingers clenched at her sides, fins grazing the coral floor. Everyone turned to her, eyes black and searing. Waiting. For her to talk, to listen to her words. A strange sensation filled her—it wasn't just fear and it wasn't just suspicion. Perhaps… gratitude? In some sick, twisted way, she was glad he had pointed her out, because it meant they saw, and now they would hear, and maybe, just maybe, one of them would care.
She poked herself. She had to focus, had to shove the thoughts into words. It was so much easier one on one. The queen was so easy to persuade, to condescend to… she couldn't do that with these Mer. She winced. These Mer were power, more powerful than whatever was hiding in her. They were confident, certain. Her power… it wasn't even really hers, and it was erratic.
Consistency. That was all she wanted—stability. She bit her tongue. She couldn't tell them that. What was she thinking? Of everything that was nothing.
Well? Serna's tail thumped against the floor.
Long ago, Nadine squeaked. Jialel tittered, then yelped as Serna pinched the back of her hand. The Vizier's lips twitched. Nadine flushed. What a pleasant beginning. She'd strike fear through their hearts; if they didn't drop down dead from terror, she didn't know what she'd do.
Serna turned to the Vizier. The child obviously cannot—
The Merteri, Nadine said, are the amulets of our ancestors. Mer for sea, teri for land. They consist of a combination of earth and sea magick. They were supposedly given to seven Mer lords, so they could act as ambassadors between the humans and us in the days when we could stand the sight of each other, if ever such times truly existed. During the Dark Seas War, they were used by the Seven, Mer warriors who walked the land as humans and who both brought intelligence and acted as assassins. She paused, panting a little, trying to ignore how shell-struck she'd sounded. Nyla had teased her about listening more to the stories shells told than her adopted mother's polite requests for Nadine to fix her hammock.
The Council stared at her, mouths agape. Serna was the first one to react. And what's your name?
Nadine Nandernine, the Vizier said smoothly, patting Serna's hand. The older Mer woman yanked it back, scowling.
I wasn't asking you, she said. With narrowed eyes, her attention returned to Nadine. How do you know so much about the old ways? You're too young to remember, too young to be interested in the affairs of the past.
Nadine's mouth went dry, though she felt a prickle of irritation at the old Mer's assumptions. Her throat closed. The Vizier's expression hardened. I—I come from the Crystal-Keeper clan, Nadine said at last. She wanted to add that her earliest memories were of sitting on the floor of her parents' hut, listening to stories and committing them to memory. But she didn't. It might lead to questions, some of which she wouldn't be able to answer, because even her memories had holes…
Serna glanced at Mara. The sea-witch had been strangely silent. Now she looked up, lips quivering, but she didn't say a word. I suppose you don't know what happened to the Key, then, Serna said. When the rebels and the sea-witches attacked. Mara flinched.
No, Nadine said, shifting and wishing she could sit down. Elealeh's eyes had lit up at the mention of the Key, and the Vizier looked so smug that Nadine knew something terrible was coming.
Shame.
Not a shame. Mara rammed her fist against the table. Nadine jumped, then took the opportunity to slam herself down in her seat. Nobody told her to rise again, much to her relief. We don't need the Key—and we don't need the Book of Creation, either.
That's where you're wrong. The Vizier's hand crawled from Serna to the queen, wrapping around Elealeh's fingers with a tight squeeze. Nadine's teeth gritted. Serna's nostrils flared. Jialel and the others exchanged glances, some with puckered brows, the rest with barely concealed scowls. Do you think we'll be able to rebuild with the humans constantly picking at our resources? And what about those, even within our own circle of… friends… who are growing antsy? His gaze trailed from Mara to Serna. Mara went white; Serna puffed out her chest and curled her lip.
Then the Vizier's smile turned on Nadine. She froze, shoulders slumping in a vain effort to hide. She had never felt so naked than with his keen gaze upon her, his eyes poking and prodding, digging underneath her skin.
Yet whatever it was that slept inside her, it stayed quiet. Whatever he searched for, he didn't find it. There was no treachery in her, unless being a liar made her a traitor as well. She scratched at her brand, the flames of pain distracting her from the worry.
And what will the Book do that the sea-witches cannot? Mara snapped, eyes flashing.
Other than give us a trustworthy ally?
The veins in Mara's neck bulged; her eyes glowed. One of the burlier Mer men threw himself across the table, grabbing her wrist. She whirled with a hiss, and hot red sparks shot across his arm. He yelled, lurching back. A gross red burn splotched his skin. You have no better ally than us, she said. We, who captured the sea's magick and know how to control it—
But it is not the most powerful magick of all, the Vizier said, spreading his arms in a gesture of supplication. The most powerful is that which made the sea's magick, that which might free us of all our enemies—and inner conflicts.
Wouldn't that be nice, Serna grumbled, but she crossed her arms. Is this your little proposition, then? Send out Seven warriors to search out the Book of Creation—a suicide mission—that may be little more than chasing after a myth? She snorted. I may be old, but I am far past being stupid.
Nadine stared at her cousin, begging her to say something, anything to contradict the Vizier. But Elealeh was watching the Vizier, leaning into him as though she wasn't strong enough to support herself. Grow up! Nadine wanted to scream. This is your kingdom! Act like it, before he destroys us all!
Forget about the Book, Mara spat. You want proof that my people are loyal? Lead us in a war against the humans—we'll wipe them out the way we—She broke off. We'll make them wish they had never existed, she said.
Nadine choked. That was even worse! A war, when the Mer couldn't even feed themselves?
And how is war supposed to save us? Serna asked. It may save us from each other, but only because we'll all be dead!
Shut up, you old hag! Mara snarled. Why do you think the rebels tried to overthrow the king in the first place? Because he'd rather be friends with the creatures that have been slaughtering us since time immemorial, because—
Quiet. The Vizier's voice cut like a blade.
Mara faltered, pressing her lips so hard they burned white. She rubbed her forehead, tail lashing against the floor. I—I didn't mean—
Of course you didn't.
I—I like the Vizier's idea, Jialel whispered. There was a murmur of uneasy agreement. Mara gripped the edge of the table.
Nadine rubbed her arms. Either a Book that gave the Vizier even more authority, or a war led by sea-witches. The queen bit her lip, gazing from the Vizier to Mara and back.
Mara leaned forward, voice pitched low. I mean no disrespect, my queen, she said. But we need this war, if only to prevent a new one. Perhaps it will bring us unity, will make us prosperous. With the humans gone, we can follow the freshwater rivers, perhaps find inland seas of plenty—
The Vizier guffawed.
—but any war is better than chasing after old men's myths. We need all the warriors we can get—
Do you really think a war will save us? The queen's question was so childlike, so desperate, that everyone stared down at the table. Perhaps they realized just how inexperienced a queen she was, how unused to the burden of responsibility. She had been the spoiled princess, the seventh child and only daughter of a wealthy king. Her brothers had been the warriors, the heirs to the throne. She had spent what little childhood she had in seemingly trivial pursuits—but at least she had been happy.
But now her father and brothers were gone. And if the queen didn't make a choice, the few Mer that remained might follow.
Nobody answered the queen's question. Elealeh sighed, tearing at her hair with her fingers. Give me some time to make a decision, she said.
After that, the Council could talk of nothing else, and soon dispersed. Long after they all were gone, Nadine sat alone in the chamber. What about restoring the sea? she wondered. Why couldn't they focus on that?
She didn't ask because she didn't know the answer. She pondered, because she wanted a different one than the truth.
War was just—easier. Killing shared enemies was simpler than forgiving the past and making friends of old ones. In a war, everyone—sea-witches or magickless Mer—was the same. In peacetime, one was obsolete and the other was cherished.
She had to help the queen, had to convince her—of something. Anything. Anything that would alleviate the weight bearing down on Nadine's chest, the desolation that tasted so sadly of hopelessness.
She found the queen in bed, face buried in her pillows, scales scattered across the mattress. Perching on the edge of the bed, Nadine gathered the long silken strands of the queen's hair and began to braid, fingers deft and quick. In, out, in, out. The rhythmic motion, so much like the lap of waves, soothed them both. Soon Elealeh sat up, sweeping the scales off the sheets. They sparkled sunlight-sea green before rolling under the bed.
You must think me such a child, Elealeh said with a trembling smile.
Nadine patted her hair. Not as much a child as I. The queen's shoulders lowered and the pucker of her brow smoothed. Nadine hesitated. There were so many questions she wanted answered, so many pleas building up inside. She felt as though a wave were pressing against her tongue. You…you don't truly believe in the Book, do you?
The queen picked at her braid, plucking strands of copper hair from their niches. What a surprising question, coming from you, she said. Don't you believe in it?
Nadine didn't know what to believe. She might have memorized the stories and the history, but that didn't mean she accepted all of them as unadulterated truth. Part of her strained to hope that the Book existed, that perhaps the past—and maybe the future—was not completely set in stone. But yet another part of her resisted, scolded her to think in the now and not in the dreams. She shrugged. It seems… fantastical. A bit… crazy.
Maybe we need a bit more crazy in this world. The queen grabbed Nadine's hands and squeezed. I know the sea-witches would rather have war than an impossible search for the Book, but… Can you imagine what we could do with it? We could rewrite history! My father, my brothers… Her voice choked. Rurriel…
Nadine flinched. What's done is done, she said sharply, though her heart did not believe it. It pounded and danced, threatening to burst from her lips in song. Nadine had not sung since…since before Nyla's disappearance.
The queen shook her head. We could rebuild with one word. We could… She stopped, flushed, and turned away. We could end the war, make peace between ourselves, destroy our enemies… the possibilities are endless!
Peace between themselves. Did that mean Nadine would be forced to like the Vizier? She shuddered at the thought. But Esli. They… they could be true friends, sisters, the way Nadine had always wanted it. Her pulse quickened.
But do you think you could get those who want a war to hold off until—Nadine corrected herself—if, the Book is found?
I have to try. I can't sign us all to a death sentence without first trying at life.
We could focus on simply rebuilding, Nadine said. Without all this war and searching and—
There's only so much longer we can do that, Nadine. The human nets are straying closer. They must be getting as desperate for food on their coasts as we are. One day they'll find a way to fracture the dome, just as they found a way to nearly annihilate us during the Dark Seas War. We can't afford to simply wait—there's no time to rebuild in peace. It would take us years.
So I guess it's settled then, Nadine said, tail sagging. There was no way to win. It was either the Book, or another war.
I guess so. The queen shifted, sheets crinkling under her weight. It's time to call the Seven.
Author's Note: Thanks so much to MertleYuts for your wonderful reviews for every chapter, and Athena Goddess of the Wise for your feedback on chapter one. It's very much appreciated! Sorry that there was so much talking in this chapter; I promise that the action definitely picks up in the next one! I'm so excited to share it with you, but first, please review!