Author's Note: Yay! Exciting chapter! Thanks to all who have read and reviewed so far! For those that read but don't review, I'm begging you, on hands and knees-please let me know what you think! PLEASE! Thank you!
Chapter Five: The Broken Promise
Darkness. It snaked across her vision, twined around her limbs, hissing, hissing. Why wouldn't it let her go? She thrashed, straining at the bonds that chained her. They gave way, thrusting her back into a world of wet air and trembling clouds.
Around her, the water churned, scattered with lumps of debris. She searched frantically for Esli, screaming her name.
There was no answer but for the howling of the wind.
She ducked beneath the surface, calling until her voice went hoarse.
Nothing.
Nadine didn't know what to feel, though her body seemed to. Her tail drooped and her heart pounded, but even it didn't know if she was more angry or sad. Angry that Esli had never given her more of a chance, or sad that now there would be no more chances. She tilted her head, staring up the surface and trying to understand herself.
It was then that she noticed the child.
He was struggling to keep his head above water, stubby little human legs kicking up foam. From below, he looked headless.
Kill him. The sea pushed against her, forcing her toward him. He wouldn't see her coming, though perhaps he sensed it. His legs pumped harder and his arms joined the fray, flailing through the dark sea surface.
To the queen, my heart, my sword. To my kin, my scales, my fins. If I ever this oath break, kill me for my honour's sake.
Nadine swallowed. This was her duty, retribution for Esli's life.
But wasn't that how the war had continued? Bitterness enflaming violence, cruelty disguised as justice?
The image of the starving Mer child with the limp gold hair floundered in Nadine's mind, uncertain whether to linger or disappear. She ordered it to cease, to fade, but it blazed all the brighter.
This child had nothing to do with the Mer children. Nothing. He had everything to do with Esli's death.
It was time to be brave, time to stop wishing for things and make them happen.
Nadine glided through the water, slipping into a current and allowing it to draw her closer to the boy's wild foot. She dodged a kick, then grabbed his ankle and yanked him below the surface. The water cut off his scream, strangling it into a gurgle.
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she sank into the depths. The wild pounding of his heart was the only sound she could hear. His arms twisted and jerked, an elbow catching her in the face. She hissed, her grip on him loosening.
He whirled away from her, a flash of lightening illuminating the gold of his curls—and his face.
She saw his eyes.
And choked.
Green. Green as seaweed, green as happiness, green as a promise…
A burning sensation erupted in her chest. She gasped for breath, clawing at the water as darkness speckled her sight. If she killed him, the promise would kill her.
But if she let him go free… she would be a… a…
To the queen, my heart, my sword. To my kin, my scales, my fins. If I ever this oath break, kill me for my honour's sake…
But no, she couldn't drown him. She'd die! And, part of her whispered, it's wro—
No! No, no, no! They were enemies. She'd seen what humans could do, had felt their cruelty against her skin.
And their kindness, a voice whispered. Almaira, Nadine.
It wasn't her voice; it wasn't her words. A chill seeped through the flames within, and she twisted. She thought she saw a glitter of purple from the corner of her eye, but then the voice crawled through her again. She wasn't just hearing with her ears and her mind. The words breezed through her, body and soul combined.
Save him.
No! She couldn't! Her people, her family—
What family?
Promise.
Blood.
The burning intensified. The boy's eyelids fluttered shut, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Death. He drifted deeper, yet another victim of the hungry sea.
She snagged his tunic and heaved upward, heart splitting as they tore through the surface. Traitor, the sea hissed, and the word echoed through her mind long after she had left the depths behind.
The current carried them along the far side of the reef, Nadine too exhausted to do much more than keep the boy's head above water. They were far from the southern No Man's Islands now, dragged along by the Northern Current. There were no places suitable for beaches along this stretch of jagged cliffs and coastal hills, and the few she did spot were guarded by the reef.
A few gulls jeered overhead, dotting the lightening sky like snails on sand. A soft shade of blue struggled between the lingering clouds. The air was heavy and gentle. A burst of colour arched across the horizon, a hazy display of yellows and reds and purples. Nadine found herself breathless with wonder. The storm was over. Now only the waves rollicked and dipped as they gradually appeased.
The boy coughed and choked in her arms, water streaming from his mouth and nose. Panic shot through her. Then he sank back against her chest and went still, his wet curls scratching her cheek.
An odd, warm sensation flooded through her. The only thing she could compare it to was the way she'd once felt in a parent's embrace, except now she was the parent and this child was her charge. It was nonsensical, and she almost let him slip through her fingers right then and there.
But the promise… Oh, if she had only known the power of a promise when she was twelve, she would never have made one!
Finally, the current swept them past the Northern No Man's Islands, just mere tips of rock peeking out of the sea. Nadine could make out a tiny cove in a place two cliffs converged. With some difficulty, she struck out for it, the lingering fingers of current tugging at her fins.
When she reached it at last, breathless and gasping, she hauled herself and the boy onto the sand. For once, she wished she'd been better trained to kill—more muscles would have helped. Pebbles and gravel bit into her scales, and she flopped down on the beach, too tired to move. She took the moment to rest. The cove was secluded, the cliffs sheltering them from view. A copse of what looked like giant stands of weed rolled back from the beach. A footpath wound up the slope, but it was narrow and Nadine was fairly certain that, despite the idiocy of the human race, they weren't entirely stupid enough to practically throw themselves off of cliffs.
If they were, it would make everything a whole lot easier. They could live off humans speared on a stick.
Delirium was making her silly. Mer that preyed on human flesh were myths—La Sirena had either died out long ago, or had never existed. Though it was possible they were the ancestors of the sea-witches…
A cry jolted her from her thoughts, and she looked up, hair standing on end. It was only birds as they circled, some diving to snatch fish from the shallow-water feeders. They were about the only kind that still thrived despite the Mer war, and it was part of a scout's duty to collect them. Such a job was saved for the food-gatherers, though—it was beneath a warrior's 'dignity'.
Other, more sombre thoughts prodded her mind. Esli… Her scales tingled, threatening to slip away. No. She flexed her muscles, determined no trace of her should be left behind, not on these human shores.
She distracted herself by observing the boy who had caused her so much trouble. He was young, even younger than she had first supposed; his face was chubby and pale, slightly green in pallor. For a moment she almost thought he was part Mer, but she remembered tales from the elders of humans who moaned of sickness from the sea. His green skin had nothing to do with having a sea heart. She looked at her own skin, veined with blue and green streaks that also wove through her hair. She was Mer, through and through. Even her eyes were different, void of the white rim these awkward humans boasted.
So how could she be lying on a beach, having just rescued one now? It went against her very nature. She feared—no, hated—these creatures.
Yet he looked so vulnerable, so helpless. She thought of their own children, how they starved on nothing but grains of sand and sickly seaweed.
She struggled onto her elbows, gasping with the effort. It was too soon. She crashed back onto the sand, enjoying its softness as it crumbled between her scales. It was quiet here, with only the gentle lapping of the waves against the beach, and the high, lilting calls of the gulls as they soared into the distance.
The boy's voice startled her with its hoarse, ugly croak. "Mo-other?"
He was waking. She was too weak yet to make her escape. He had to stay asleep. She opened her mouth, the rush of dry air parching her throat. But she had to sing, had to lull him into sweet oblivion, so when he opened his eyes, it was all a dream. She had never existed.
The words of her mother's lullaby trickled off her tongue before she could stop it, filling her heart with the sounds of laughter and the sight of smiles, a whole world different than the war. Her scales scattered across the sand in lament.
"I cry a song of the Sea
Of old and distant memories
When glistening waves in light of day
When peaceful was the lay.
Alas! Alack! How I mourn the time
When all the good in us doth die."
His eyes closed once more. But he shifted restlessly, legs swinging back and forth.
Her voice was hushed and croaking, but she sang anyways, desperate to keep him unconscious.
"The air is sea, and the sea is sweet,
Its brine in my veins doth throbbing beat.
A flick of fin, throng of scales glistening
And in my ears the whales doth sing.
Heart and soul, broken and whole, healed or beat
All of it belongs to the Lady Sea."
His legs stopped moving as her words swept him beyond her reach. She closed her eyes just enough that darkness eased her mind. As she rested, she could feel the strength gathering in her tail, flexing its muscles with a strain to return to the sea.
Sand crunched in front of her. She glanced up, horrified to see a tall human girl running toward her, face white as foam. White-blonde hair flew behind her, its ends pointing to the very copse that Nadine hadn't even considered could hide an onlooker. Nadine cursed her own stupidity. The humans might veer too close to cliffs, but they didn't fall into traps as easily as she did.
She scrabbled back across the beach, the effort in her aching muscles making her slow.
The girl's fingers scrabbled at the hilt of the sword thumping against her thigh. "Stupid Ithanor!" she was muttering. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! Come here, and the nuns only eat mud cakes and there're hardly any mountains and it's so damn hot. Not to mention the stupid Mer eating children and—"
The boy groaned.
The girl froze beside his body. She looked from him to Nadine and back again, ice blue eyes narrowed. Nadine didn't wait to see if she continued her attack; she crawled as quickly as she could to the water, splashing through the shallows until she reached the open sea. There, she tossed herself into the waves.
As she sank like a stone, Nadine prayed to the Creator that she would never again see the child's piercing eyes. She prayed that the girl would believe herself delusional. She prayed that she could keep this secret within her helm of secrets, a lie within her many lies.
When she opened her eyes, the prayers floated to the surface and beyond like foam, never to be answered.
Esli stared at the creature in front of her, at the Mer girl she had followed to a cove. At the Mer girl who had profaned every Mer sold into human hands, at the girl who had betrayed her own kind to rescue a worthless human child.
But why had she expected any different? She was just like him, and it made her want to scream. It was all hopeless—if she couldn't keep Nadine from straying, how would she ever have been able to save him?
What have you done? she whispered, pouring all the anger and the sorrow and the bitterness seething inside her into the words. You made a promise to the queen, to our kind, Nadine— The name tasted like sand. She spat it out, sickly satisfied at Nadine's flinch.
The other girl's face glowed white as squid. She said nothing, but her breaths were shallow, darting in and out like terrified schools of fish. Her lips trembled and her eyes were downcast, focussed on some sparkle far below. I—
Arrest her. Telm appeared beside Esli, an eel that slithered and hissed and would never go away. Nadine stiffened, her tail stick-straight.
You don't have to tell me what to do, she snapped.
Nadine bolted, her scales a flash of coral in the sun-streaked sea. Telm caught her by the arms, his mouth set in a grim line. Again, he looked so much like his father, so devout toward the business at hand, that Esli's stomach turned. Nadine shot her a pleading glance, but Esli stared elsewhere, beyond the surface to the beach. A human girl was helping the child to his feet.
He was beyond their reach now.
With one swift movement, Telm clipped Nadine's temple with the hilt of his dagger. She slumped against his chest without a sound, not even a whimper. Her chestnut hair tumbled across his shoulders. Esli had once envied such hair, for it was the type Nathanael had teased and tugged. He had never teased or tugged her hair, until she was old enough to learn that his love for her was a different type than that which he felt for Nadine. But was it deeper? Was it stronger?
He hadn't died for Esli.
Did you know she would do this? The question appeared out of nowhere. Telm started forward, Nadine's limp form in his arms.
Of course not! How could you ask— She stopped. Of course he didn't fully trust her; she didn't fully trust him, for all that he thought he knew her. Why else would he have trailed her here, just as she had followed Nadine?
I thought you were never going to betray me, she said.
He stared at her. I haven't.
You just did. In a place where trust was everything, his suspicion was worse than death. She didn't want his love or his friendship, and yet, she did. Because she was a fool and a coward, and she didn't want to feel so alone. Yet more than all of that, she feared that trusting someone else again would tear her to shreds, this time leaving nothing behind to heal.
And how could she ever trust him with anything, if he couldn't trust her?
Esli—He made to reach out and touch her hand, but Nadine nearly slipped from his grip. Readjusting his hold, he said, How?
You should have let me handle this by myself—you shouldn't have followed me!
He said nothing, staring down at Nadine's face. She's the traitor, not me, he murmured.
Yes, she was. And Esli would take her and she would kill her and she would watch her die slowly. And when she was done dying and Esli was left all alone again, she would be reminded of how much it hurt to hope in anyone other than yourself.
Death. The vote was unanimous, the Council's voices overturning the queen's sympathy. Nadine's fins wobbled, and she slumped forward. Tilting her chin, she looked from face to face, searching for mercy. A few looked away, but Serna's gaze was steady.
This has been the way of justice for generations, she said. Traitors die.
Nadine trembled at the word traitor. Telm tightened his grip on her shoulder. Esli's knuckles dug into her scalp, her fingers twisting into Nadine's roots.
When the sun's rays kiss the surface, she will be put to death. Are there any volunteers for execution—
I will! Esli's grip tautened and Nadine hissed through her teeth. Mara stood, her eyes glinting as she smirked. Tossing her head, she said, Sea-witches are loyal to the crown. What better way to serve than to eliminate those that aren't? Though she spoke of Nadine, she shot a sly smile at Esli.
Behind her, Esli's tail whipped the sand, stirring up tiny particles that danced in the current and grated Nadine's scales.
The Vizier sat beside the queen, who had gone whiter and whiter throughout the proceedings. Now she looked not only pale, but the fine blue-green veins that ran under a Mer's shallow skin bulged on her face.
Nadine's pulse spiked, distracted from her fear. She's going to—
The Vizier stretched out an arm as the queen slumped back, her head lolling to the side. A few guards rushed forward and escorted her from the room. Unspoken agreement hinted that Elealeh was not the one with the power here anyway. As soon as she was gone, the Vizier resumed his lazy pose, his fingers tapping against the table as he cocked his head at her.
What was he thinking? She wondered. With that furrowed brow, that puzzled frown? Her insides vaulted and she took slow, steady breaths.
Are you sure you're a good executioner? he asked finally.
Mara stared at him. Of course I am—
I mean you no disrespect, of course, he said in a voice that Nadine believed said he certainly did. But we need one who doesn't rush through things. His gaze flicked to Nadine and back to the sea-witch. Someone who draws it out, makes it as painful as possible.
Mara laughed. You obviously know little about us, then, if you thought we would do anything less.
Perfect. He smiled. Perfect.
They threw her in the jail off the Records Room, where she could glimpse the training fields where she would die. In the darkness Nadine could see little, but she didn't have to see to imagine. In her mind, the plain was stained with sunlight and blood, magic tingling in the currents and making them flicker yellow.
Nadine turned from the tiny circular window to the coral bars rimmed with anemones. If she tried to bend them or squeeze between, the creatures' sharp colourful tines would poison her.
She should know. She had been the one to suggest the anemones to the Head Gardener when she had been approached on the subject of ways to safeguard jails from escape. She scowled.
Beyond their spiny fingers, a guard loomed in the doorway that sheltered the jail from the Records Room. The jails had been slung together from shipwrecks in the day of the old king and held ten cells in all, though they'd never been properly fortified until now. This one off the Records Room had five, and but for her, they were empty.
She paced, tracing the walls that felt as though they had been constructed of sand. Their grainy texture bit into her fingertips, reminding her of a journey long ago—and a promise.
Note: Next chapter's going to be a flashback scene! I'm so excited to share it with you all! :)