Chapter 17: Black and White
Melody woke to the usual sounds of gulls and waves. The sunlight was blinding on her sleep laden eyes, forcing her to shield them against the glare. It was bright outside, the morning light streaming past the person sitting in her window.
She snapped to full alertness. Someone was in her room! Her unfocused eyes locked on the figure reclining in the corner of her alcove window. She was about to call for the guards when she remembered.
Lara was back.
Melody rubbed her eyes and looked again. What had been a blur became Lara with her legs folded and back against the wall, chin tucked against her chest as she slept on the cushioned sill. Her cloak was draped around her shoulders, the patched fabric spilling over the side of the window bench. Her long brunette hair covered her ears so only the tips of her spikes were visible. A few rebellious strands fell over her face, swaying with her steady breaths. She was wearing brown pants and a red shirt that had been torn to make a tank top. Her brown tunic and black pants were discarded on the floor, coated with dust and some sort of animal hair. Her pack lay on the floor below, no less dusty from the long road to the mountains. A sword rested against her shoulder, arms draped over the heavily scratched red scabbard and sunlight glinting off the weathered metal pommel. It was obviously a sword, though not of any design Melody had seen. It could not be very thick or heavy given the size of the scabbard. Such a blade must be as flimsy as it was fragile. A solid hit from a broadsword or ax would snap it like a twig. How was that going to do either of them any good?
Melody sleepily stumbled back through her memories of last night. Everyone was returning to their rooms from dinner when a guard announced Lara's return. The woman strode in with that strange sword on her back and enough dirt on her face and clothes to plant flowers with. Carlotta had chased her down and given her a scolding for tracking dirt through the halls. She might have gotten an ear tweaked for good measure were it not for Carlotta's avoidance of the spikes.
At her parents' insistence they held Lara's swearing-in ceremony that night, although they insisted Lara take a shower and find clean clothes first. The smell of horse and woodland around her was notable, to say the least.
Melody thought back to the ceremony. It almost ended before it even started.
Lara eyed the white crystal orb in her hand. "So, I just hold this?"
The incoming tide rose to swallow the setting sun. The beachside pavilion's glass canopy captured the falling light in a thousand fractals of red, orange, and yellow. Lara stood in the middle of the structure dressed in loose brown pants and a red shirt that had been ripped up to make a snug-fitting tank top. Guards dressed in full armor with spears and swords surrounded the perimeter. They stood smartly at attention, ready to act at a moment's notice. One held Lara's sword while another held her knives. Lara allowed them to take her weapons without resistance. Little did they know it would not have mattered if they took her blades to the outskirts of Seahaven. It would not be far enough to keep them out of her reach.
At the seaward edge of the pavilion stood Eric and Ariel, both dressed in their formal attire for this occasion. By Eric's side was Grimsby looking uptight, reserved, and especially disapproving of Lara's overtly relaxed attire. Beside Ariel was Melody, dressed in her favorite yellow sundress and the silver tiara signifying her status. Her garb was an ironic choice considering how gloomy her mood was.
Next to Melody stood Attina, Aquata, and Andrina, the princesses dressed in gowns reminiscent of their tail colors. Despite Ariel's insistence that her sisters did not need to bother with the ceremony, Attina insisted she be present as a representative of Atlantica's court and its future queen. Aquata was curious about seeing Lara up close for herself. She wound up staring a little too intensely, which Lara did not fail to notice. As for Andrina, she simply wanted something to cure her boredom. The remaining sisters had not wanted to risk the stairs just yet, still adapting to their two new means of locomotion. Sebastian was absent, gone to Atlantica to report on the mermaids' first days as humans.
Melody watched as Lara tossed the crystal to her other hand and held it up to the light. She knew this was all a formality, but a part of her was truly nervous about that crystal. If it did what her grandfather said, any lie Lara told would be revealed to them. What if it revealed Lara was an enemy? What if the whole purpose of her entering that tournament was to get close enough to kill her? What if she was a murderer or wanted criminal? Was she even the person she said she was? For that matter, who even was Lara to begin with? There was still so much they did not know about her, and Lara was being tight lipped about her life before Seahaven. She only divulged that she traveled abroad for a long time and decided to end her wanderings in Seahaven.
Lara held the crystal up to the royal family, suppressing a laugh at the distortions the globe caused to their bodies. Grimsby's was particularly amusing, especially when it made his waist six times larger. It was to hide her nervousness more than anything. She knew exactly what this crystal was, even if the king and queen were playing it off as a ceremonial orb. Her father had several just like it. He called them veritas crystals. They amounted to nothing more than simple lie-detectors, but they were completely infallible. The magic within them could not be cheated no matter what spell or expertise the user possessed. If she told a lie or tried to tamper with it the stone would change color, alerting all of her deception. Where Seahaven acquired one of these she could only imagine.
That she was being tested with one of these ancient relics made her anxious. She obviously could not refuse it. That would arouse as much suspicion as a false answer. If they asked the right question–or in her case, the wrong question–things could get ugly very fast. Those guards were not for show, and neither was the sword on Eric's hip. If they decided one of her answers made her a threat, she would need to get out of there fast.
Grimbsy folded his hands behind his back and stepped forward. "Miss Anclagon, we will now begin the ceremony. Please kneel."
Lara tossed the crystal again and caught it. "I'm gonna pass again."
Melody was not surprised given Lara's refusal to kneel in the arena, but everyone else was. Attina stiffened with a trace of indignation while Aquata looked shocked. Andrina had an expression somewhere between surprise and amusement.
"That was not a request. Kneel," said Grimsby with more firmness. It was an order this time.
"The answer is still no," replied Lara with equal firmness.
Grimsby marched smartly over to her until they were face to face. "Young lady, we'll have none of your insubordination this time. You will kneel."
"I will not, gramps."
Grimsby bristled at the jab. "Gramps!?"
Lara took a step forward, her nose almost touching Grimsby's quite larger one. "I'm not one of their subjects, and I'm not about to get on my knees because you expect me to. Not for you. Not for them. Not for anyone. Got it?"
The guards shifted, hands tightening on spears and swords as they looked to Eric for the signal to intervene. The king motioned for them to hold, waiting to see how the confrontation would progress.
"Finally, some entertainment," whispered Andrina to Aquata. "I bet five shells on Grismby."
"I'll bet ten on Lara," replied Aquata.
Attina gave her sisters a pair of sharp elbows. "Shh!"
Melody thought Grimsby was going to burst a blood vessel. His face turned as red as a tomato and a vein throbbed on his forehead. How there was not steam coming out his ears was beyond her. "How dare you–!"
"That's enough!" said Eric, his voice not a shout but hard enough to cut off Grimsby's words and the impending argument. Grimsby went silent immediately. Lara turned to Eric, fixing him with the same unshaking gaze she gave the advisor as he approached. "Lara, I made an exception at the arena because of your victory. But in this case, I also insist that you kneel."
Lara narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. "And if I don't?"
"Then you at least owe us an explanation," said Eric. "Kneeling is a simple enough gesture. And I don't think Ariel or I have done anything to warrant your refusal."
Lara's indignant expression suddenly turned sad and nostalgic. She touched something under her shirt, as though there was a physical memory beneath the fabric. "It's what my dad taught me."
"And what did he teach you, exactly?" asked Grimsby.
"Give respect to those who deserve it, not those who demand it." Lara lowered her hand. "Don't take this as an insult, Eric. But just because you're a king doesn't mean you'll get my respect by default. If you want me to kneel then you're gonna have to prove you're someone worth kneeling to. Do and I'll gladly take a knee, but not till then. And the same goes for you. Don't respect me because you're supposed to. Respect me because I've earned it. Simple as that."
"I see…" Eric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If that's really how you feel, then I'll hold you to it."
Grimsby turned sharply to Eric. "Sire, I must protest! This unwarranted show of disrespect is–!"
"Let it go, Grims," said Eric. "We'll discuss it later."
Grimsby frowned and gave a stiff bow. "As you wish." He shot a scowl at Lara and returned to the king's side. Lara gave him a look of her own and walked back to the center of the pavilion.
"Can we get this started already?" Lara asked, tossing the white sphere between her hands. "We're running out of daylight."
"Yes, can we?" said Ariel, wanting to Lara to stop juggling the precious artifact lest she drop it.
Eric stepped forward, holding himself taller and more dignified. Lara seemed to sense his intentions and stopped her juggling, taking the crystal in both hands.
"Is your name Lara Anclagon?" Eric asked.
"Yes," Lara answered. The crystal remained clear.
"Are you an enemy of Seahaven?"
Melody wrung her hands nervously as she watched the crystal, not noticing her mother do the same and the guards grip their weapons a bit tighter. If this crystal really was as incorruptible as Triton claimed they were, this would reveal very quickly if Lara was a threat or not.
"No," said Lara.
Clear. Melody let her shoulders drop in relief. Some relief, anyway.
"Have you ever conspired with enemies of Seahaven in any way, shape, or form?" continued Eric.
"No," answered Lara. "At least, I hope not."
Clear.
"Have you ever been to this kingdom before?"
"No."
Clear.
"Do you have any reason or wish to harm me, my family, or the people of this kingdom?"
"There was only one person in this kingdom I wanted to hurt," said Lara. "And he got what he had coming."
Clear.
"Are you a practitioner of magical arts for any unlawful or ill-intended purposes?"
Lara tensed. This was just what she feared–one of those questions that could turn the situation sour. Yes, she could use magic. Yes, she could cast spells. Yes, she was not a typical human. And yes, she had in the past used her magic for things she should not have. But she did not use it for the darker goals often associated with evil warlocks and witches. Nor was her magic remotely like theirs. Hers was a rare and ancient type, capable of great power when needed but also difficult to control. It took years of diligent study to reach her current proficiency, and despite appearances she still had far to go before she called herself a master of the art.
Lara was all too aware of the stigma attached to magic. The ability to violate the laws of the universe that the common masses were bound to was not only frightening, but in many people's minds as unnatural as it was unfair. Why should some have this power when they could not? Others saw it as heresy, the sin of treading into a realm belonging to the divine or the infernal. She experienced firsthand how easily people justified hatred and persecution because of magic. It could turn friends on each other in a heartbeat, and brotherly communities into destructive pitchfork mobs. She had been extremely careful with her magic since coming to Seahaven. No one knew about it. Not even Jenni. Until she had definitive proof that it would be safe to use it freely, her magic needed to remain another of her secrets.
She gulped nervously, mentally and physically preparing herself for the worst. "No."
The crystal remained clear. Everyone let out a sigh of relief, though none as relieved as Lara's.
"Will you protect my daughter from any and all that would harm her?" asked Eric. "Even if you must risk your own life to do so?"
Lara looked at Melody. She could see her tighten up under her gaze. Then she quickly looked away. Clearly the princess did not trust Lara. But could Lara blame her? Nightmares, witches, sea monsters, assassins, and then weeks of isolation inside the palace. Who would not be afraid or distrustful in her shoes? Just because one had courage did not mean they lacked fear. And she saw plenty of fear in Melody, like reading the words of one page through another. Whoever these witches were, she was scared of them far more than her.
Lara took in a deep breath, filling her lungs before releasing it. Peaceful as Seahaven appeared, there seemed to be no shortage of people that needed her help here. There was no way she could leave Melody defenseless against her enemies. Especially when those enemies were witches. The only true defense against magic was other magic. And Lara knew she had enough to be a veritable wall. These would not be the first witches she squared up against. She only hoped they would be the last.
"Yes," said Lara, turning her attention back to Eric. "I'll protect her."
The crystal stayed clear.
Eric walked over to Lara until he was standing right in front of her, beckoning her to lean close. Lara lent him her ear, curious what he had to say that needed to be private.
"I know we've asked a lot of you already," he whispered. "But I want you to promise me something."
"What is it?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
Eric placed a hand on her shoulder. She could feel the anxiety in his grip. "I don't know how this is going to play out. I hope we'll resolve this whole mess soon. But if things turn for the worse, promise me you'll protect my family. No matter what happens, keep them safe. Even if it means leaving me behind."
Lara looked past Eric to the princess and queen, both eyeing them with curiosity at their private conversation. Eric was hiding it well, but deep down he was just as scared as Ariel. He had no delusions about how powerless he would be against witches if his sword became their last line of defense. And he was wise enough to entertain the possibility he could have to make painful sacrifices. But he could not lose his wife or daughter. He was willing to do anything to keep them safe.
Even if it meant sacrificing him in the process.
Lara looked at him and nodded. "I'll do everything in my power to protect them. You have my word."
Both Lara and Eric hoped it would never come to that.
Melody rubbed her head as a dizzy spell took hold, a result of getting up too fast. She sat still for a moment to let it pass. A faint change in Lara's breathing drew her attention back to the sleeping brunette. She frowned scornfully. It was not even her first full day as guardian and Lara was already asleep on the job. Some bodyguard she was turning out to be.
Lara smacked her lips in her sleep, a brief smile flashing over her face before drifting away. The shift caused the light to reflect off her lip piercing, sending a small speck of glare skittering across the floor.
If there was one thing Melody inherited from her mother, it was her curiosity about the unknown. It got her into no shortage of adventures and mishaps of her own before William's death. Right then that curiosity was drawing her towards Lara, specifically the metal in her lip. She was still scared of her, albeit a hair less than before the ceremony. But her fear was at odds with an inexplicable interest in the young woman's facial jewelry.
Curiosity won over caution. As quietly as she could Melody slipped off the bed and tiptoed over to Lara, feet making the faintest of whispers against the floor. She froze when Lara shifted. She thought she would wake up, but Lara merely moved into a more comfortable position and left Melody free to continue her approach. She tiptoed towards her, trying to be silent as a shadow.
Her gaze quickly fell to the black tattoo bands around Lara's forearms. Each band was an inch across and spaced almost a hand's width apart. They were written in a strange script she did not recognize, though admittedly she skipped more than a few lessons in written languages. The writing flowed together in an elegant river of black, one form leading into the next and so on around her arm. She wondered what they said, or if there was any special meaning attributed to them. She once saw a man getting a much smaller tattoo on his shoulder at the docks. She remembered how tightly his face clenched up as the needle pierced his skin over and over. How much would these ones have hurt?
She turned her focus to Lara's face. This was the first time she got a close look at her. She could not have been much older than she was. She was actually very pretty when Melody discounted the facial shrapnel. Her skin was smooth and flawless. Even the shape and pale color of her eye scar had a beauty of its own, as though she was born with it instead of having it inflicted upon her. It was odd to see her so calm, not at all the tomboyish and outlandish woman she was awake.
Her eyes moved to the piercings in her eyebrows. They were smaller than she thought, the spheres on the ends of the rods no larger than small pearls. The piercing in her lip was the same. The metal was jet black and polished so fine Melody could see her distorted reflection in it. They were free of any imperfections, perfectly smooth and symmetrical. She winced as she followed the black to where it entered and exited her skin. How much had those hurt? Why had Lara gone through with it, much less been able to?
Melody had the sudden urge to touch one. Maybe if she was really careful, she could do it without waking her. Carefully she reached for the one in Lara's lip. She held her breath, afraid the nervous tremble would give away her presence. She froze when Lara shifted again, but she did not show further signs of rousing.
Only when she was certain Lara was asleep did Melody gently brush a fingertip over the metal. It was surprisingly warm and smooth to the touch. If felt like glass, yet it had a solidity to it that was completely unlike glass. What sort of material were these made from to make something so small yet so flawless?
She was about to touch it again when Lara's eyes snapped wide open. She lurched forward and bit Melody's finger, teeth clamping down on her. "Go'cha!"
Melody lurched backwards with a startled yelp, jerking her finger free. Her heel caught the hem of her nightgown and she tripped back, falling hard on her behind before scrambling back into her nightstand, almost knocking over a vase of flowers.
"Ha ha ha! I got you good!" laughed Lara, lips pulled up in a smile that crinkled the edges of her haunting golden eyes. "You should've seen your face!"
Melody scowled as she got up while Lara doubled over with laughter. The distrust welled up inside her stronger than ever, peeved at being the butt of a joke so early in the morning. Her heart felt like it would leap out of her chest and run away. She wondered if she would be able to sleep that night with how bad Lara just frightened her.
"Don't you ever, ever, ever do thatagain!" she snapped angrily, clutching the finger Lara bit. "You scared me half to death!"
Lara grinned lopsidedly at her, wiping a mirthful tear out of her right eye. "Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad! I didn't even break the skin! Can't you take a joke?"
The withering look Melody shot her said otherwise.
"Wow, tough crowd." Lara held up her hands disarmingly. "Okay, okay. Sorry I scared you and I won't do it again."
Her tone told Melody she was definitely going to do something like that again. She sat on the edge of her bed, still thinking bleak thoughts about Lara. She looked at her finger for bite marks but saw none. Now that she thought about its Lara had not bitten her very hard. It was the feel of teeth on her skin more than any pain that caused her to cry out. It still scared her something terrible though.
"What were you doing asleep?" Melody asked. "You're supposed to be protecting me."
"I wasn't sleeping," said Lara as she cracked her neck before setting the sword aside. She stretched her arms high overhead, leaning side to side to work the stiffness out of her back and shoulders. A loud pop from a tight vertebra made Melody cringe, sending a shiver of mild disgust down her spine.
"You sure looked asleep," said Melody.
"That's the idea." Lara removed her cloak and shemagh, dropping them next to her sword as she swung her feet to the floor.
"You're telling me you were awake the entire time?" asked Melody, not sure she believed her.
"The whole time." Lara set her goggles and knives with her things, brushing her hair behind her ears. Melody cringed at the sight of her heavily pierced ears. She definitely did not want to know how much those hurt. "You snore by the way."
"I do not!" snapped Melody indignantly.
Lara gave her an arched eyebrow as she started removing her boots. "How would you know? You're asleep when you do it."
Melody tried to think of a comeback but could not find one. She ended up gaping like a fish before closing her mouth and turning away. "I don't snore," she muttered under her breath.
Lara shrugged and pulled a boot off, revealing gray bandages wrapped around her foot and ankle in place of socks. "You know, if you wanted to touch one all you had to do was ask," she said as she slipped off the other boot, wiggling her toes as they enjoyed the freedom. She reached behind and pulled her pack over, flipping open the top and starting to dig inside.
Melody felt her cheeks flush, embarrassed at being caught. "I-I don't know what you're talking about! You had a bug on your face, that's all!"
"Right…" said Lara disbelievingly, pulling out a pair of dark brown pants and standing up. To Melody's disbelief Lara grabbed the bottom of her shirt and started pulling it over her head.
"Eeeek!" She clamped her eyes shut and threw her hands in front of her face. "What are you doing!?"
Lara stopped just shy of revealing herself. "What's it look like? I'm changing clothes."
"Not here!" squealed Melody in exasperated embarrassment, peeking between her fingers. "Use the vanity screen!"
Lara blinked at her. "The what?"
Melody pointed to where she knew an ornate blue folding screen stood by her wardrobe. "That! Go change behind that!"
Lara eyed the screen but made no move for it. "Why?"
"Why!? Because you're not stripping down in the middle of my room, that's why!" said Melody, trying to keep from shouting so as not to attract the guards. "Have some decency!"
"All right! All right! I'm going!" Lara blew hair out of her face, tucking her clothes under her arm as she went behind the screen. "Yeesh! Some morning person you are."
Melody lowered her hands to see a torn red shirt flop over the top of the screen, followed closely by a pair of pants. She groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Not five minutes awake and already they were arguing. But what did Lara expect her to do, just sit and watch her get naked? Melody may have been comfortable with the way merfolk dressed, but she drew a clear distinction between ocean and land attire. She was not as bold as her mother and aunts, having spent the majority of her years on land. Her merfolk heritage only came into her life after the fall of the seawall, by which time her ideas of normal attire had been well established. She wore a seashell brassiere like the mermaids did on one occasion. She was terribly uncomfortable the entire day, and it had nothing to do with fit. Having so much skin and cleavage exposed made her feel naked. Vulnerable. Defenseless, even.
She looked back to the screen. The foot wrappings had joined the pants and shirt on the screen. She could hear Lara putting on her new clothes and brushing her hair back. Hopefully she was wearing something more modest.
She discovered Lara being modest was about as likely as Morgana and Ursula showing up at the gates ready to surrender when she re-emerged. Lara had donned a pair of black pants identical to her brown ones. Her top was little better than that seashell brassiere she just reminisced on. The tan tight-fitting halter-top had been shredded below her bust, leaving a generous amount of her shoulders and toned flat stomach exposed, as well as the edges of her bandage breast warp.
Not alarming but still attention-worthy was her figure. Without the tunic Melody could see an hourglass in the contours of Lara's body, but it would be entirely inaccurate to call her petite. Ariel and her sisters were petite and slender. Lara was athletically lean in every sense of the word. Her body was not bulky and muscle-bound, but trim and defined. The lines of her arms and shoulders, the contours of her abdominals, and the way she moved spoke of subtle yet tremendous strength. Melody had to remind herself that Lara's strength could not be gauged on looks alone, as anyone who saw her match with the former Lord Avitas could attest. She punched through a wall with those arms.
"Where are your clothes!?" exclaimed Melody.
Lara looked herself over, confused by Melody's reaction. "I'm wearing them."
"You're half-naked is what you are!"
Lara walked over to the full-length mirror and looked herself over. Twice her eyes went from head to toe before turning back to Melody. "I don't see what you're making such a fuss over. I'm covered."
"You can'tgo around Seahaven dressed like that!"
"Why not? Is there a law against it?"
"Well…no! But that's not the issue! Don't you have a dress or something not so…?" She gestured to Lara for clarification.
Melody knew she hit a sore spot by the way the brunette frowned at her. "I don't wear dresses. Ever. Hate the things. Can't stand them."
Now Melody was the one confused. "How can you hate dresses? You're a girl."
Lara's frown deepened. "Just because I'm a girldoes not mean I want to dress like one. Or have to, princess." She walked to the window seat and began putting on her boots. "Dress code was not part of the job description. I've been covered head to toe for months now, and it got old really fast. It's gonna be gorgeous outside today. Wear what you want, but I'm gonna enjoy this sun in something other than a stifling dress. I might as well wear a straightjacket they're so confining."
"What confines?" asked Melody, her aggravation momentarily replaced by curiosity.
Lara sighed as she laced up the first boot. "Get dressed and I'll show you."
Melody marched to her wardrobe, her annoyance showing in the sharpness of her step and how she opened the doors. She riffled through her clothes till she settled on a deep maroon dress with matching sleeves and a light pink bodice. She took it down and went behind the vanity screen to change. Normally she would call for a handmaiden to help her with dressing, but Lara had her so flustered it did not cross her mind. She was vaguely aware of her new roommate putting her weapons back on from the metallic clinking of blades in their sheath, and then fishing something out of her pack.
Melody reached behind and pulled the back lacing tight, making sure to leave herself breathing room. Then she stepped out from the screen. "Okay. So what are you going to show me?"
Lara finished adjusting the shemagh back around her neck. Her goggles were back on her head and the knives secured on her lower back. The sword was clutched in her hand. She looked like a fighter now. Sort of. That look on her face was more "mischievous child" than "warrior woman."
She looked Melody over from head to toe. "Touch your toes."
Melody blinked. "What?"
Lara nodded to her feet, arms folded as she shifted her weight to one leg. "Bend down and touch your toes."
"Why?"
"Because it'll be funny and prove my point. So, if you please, your majesty?"
Melody sighed. "Fine." She straightened her legs and reached down. "This is so stupid. I can touch my toes just fine. I do it all the…all the…uh…"
She was suddenly reminded that the reason she could touch her toes was because she was not wearing a dress when she attempted it. Her hands barely made it past her knees when the dress started to work against her, the fabric not approving this little maneuver. It was made to emphasize a ladylike and regal posture, not stretching out her legs. She could feel it straining to keep her upright like it was designed to. By the time her fingertips were at her calves the dress had effectively halted her progress.
Lara bent over, her hair falling to the floor as she craned her neck to look upside down at Melody. "Having trouble?"
Melody scowled. She was not going to give Lara the satisfaction of seeing her defeated. That smug grin on her face only made her more determined. "No," she huffed. "Just…loosening…up…my legs."
"Should I get behind and push?" asked Lara teasingly, clearly enjoying the show.
"Shut…up," Melody grunted as she tried to force herself past the last few inches to her feet. She was rewarded by the sound of threads popping. Immediately she snapped upright, not wanting to damage her dress any more than she just had. She looked behind, seeing a small tear at the seam of the bodice and skirt.
Lara smirked at her. "You got further than I expected, I'll give you that."
Melody narrowed her eyes, peeved she not only damaged her dress but proved Lara right. "Oh, like you can do any better?"
"As a matter of fact, I can." Lara set her sword on the ground and straightened up. "Observe."
With as much flourish as an acrobat on a trapeze Lara spread her arms wide, straightened her back, and then leaned down and touched her toes. Then she kept going, bringing her front flush with the top of her legs, head resting just past her knees.
As irritated as Melody was, she had to admit Lara's flexibility was impressive. Even she could not do that. She scooted to the side to see if Lara was somehow cheating. She found no such evidence, but she did find Lara still had that victorious grin on her face.
"See?" said Lara. "No dress, no problem."
Instead of straightening back up Lara placed her hands on the floor and proceeded to move into a handstand. Her pant legs slipped down enough to reveal her bootlaces and the muscular calves they were tied around. Melody now knew why Richard flew so far when she kicked him. From there Lara moved into a controlled front flip, slowly bringing her feet past her head until they touched the floor. She snapped back up to standing position to find Melody watching her with a mix of awe and annoyance.
Lara stretched an arm over her chest. "I'll admit that took practice to learn. But I didn't learn it in a dress."
Melody was prevented from making a snarky comeback by a knock at the door. "Your majesty, breakfast is ready downstairs," said Carlotta.
"Thank you. We'll be down shortly," said Melody.
She sighed tiredly. She did not want to start quarrelling on their first day together, although part of her did. Lara was her bodyguard now and there was nothing she could do about that. She was probably the best defense against Morgana and Ursula next to the trident itself. She needed to make the best of this situation, or it was going to drag her down fast. She remembered her mother's words the night after the tournament. She was trying to give Lara a chance, but there was part of her that did not want to. Especially when Lara was not making it easy. Maybe she would feel better once she had something to eat.
Lara picked up her sword. "Well, you heard her. Breakfast awaits." She went to the window seat while Melody went to her vanity table. "So, what are we gonna do today?"
"What do you mean what are we doing?" asked Melody as she started brushing her hair, wincing as the bristles caught on a particularly stubborn tangle.
"As in where do you want to go, as in somewhere not in the palace? As long as I'm there you can go wherever you want."
Melody's vexation vanished instantly. Lara was right! Now that she had a bodyguard her house arrest was over. She did not have to stay in the palace anymore! She could go out into the world again. Granted she would have a sword-wielding watcher following her wherever she went, but she had her freedom back.
And there was one place she wanted to go more than anything.
Morgana knew of one place she wanted to go more than anything–anywhere but her lair.
The sea witch sat on a throne of ice in her wintry underwater chambers. It was much like the hideout she used in the South Seas so long ago. Even the black anemone cauldron and shelves stocked with various potion and spell materials were the same, many of them retrieved from the secret chambers in her former home. The only significant difference was the walls were now made of black rock and metal instead of ice, although there was copious amounts of it coating the room. A familiar touch of home to an otherwise dreary place. A large circular metal door marked the entrance.
On a platform in a far corner slept Undertow, her enormous and recently escaped shark henchman. He had grown a full five feet longer during the seven years of her absence, the food of Atlantica's Sandbar Prison doing little to stunt his persistent growth. He snored with low rumbling snorts, occasionally grumbling something about his size or words like "shrimp" and "guppy" before going back to whatever dream he was having. He yawned widely in his sleep, exposing a mouth filled with large triangular teeth. The ones he broke chasing that pipsqueak penguin had long since been replaced by several sets of new ones.
Morgana rapped her fingers in agitation on the arm of her seat, chin resting on a tentacle while the others tapped in rhythm with her hand. She had been stuck in this place for weeks now. The isolation was driving her crazy, or more so than she already was. She wanted to do something. Cast a spell, torture a merfolk, mess up her sister's potions, craft a new curse to miniaturize herself into a sea biscuit, turn Undertow into a sea biscuit—anything to cure the boredom. She scowled as her tapping grew faster, reflecting her aggravation at the lack of stimulation.
How had she ended up like this? She was once one of the most feared witches in all the seven seas. She never had the magical prowess her sister did, but she had enough to make men and merfolk tremble at her name. She very nearly forced Triton to hand over the trident using only a simple portal and his granddaughter. So how had she wound up here, trapped in her own quarters under threat of that hooded shadow freak?
To put it in the simplest possible terms, she died.
Morgana remembered the exact moment her life ended inside that icy prison of Triton's creation. She had no memory of what did her in first, asphyxiation or starvation. She only remembered falling into the dark depths of the ocean as the light of the sky faded to black. From there she lost track of time. She had no idea if it was three minutes or three weeks before she died. She remembered that eventually the cold slipped away, and the hands of Death pulled her into a darkness the likes of which she never thought possible. She spun for an eternity in the shadows, cursing the humans and merfolk with every hex she could think of.
She cursed none as vehemently as that little mermaid's brat. That puny half-breed Melody.
Triton may have been the one who killed her, but Melody was the true architect of Morgana's demise. She should have killed that sea louse when she was a baby. If she had been smart and killed the girl once she got the trident none of this would have happened. She would have the trident and no one to come climbing up her ice tower to ruin her day. But no, she was blinded by her newfound power. She should have known better than to underestimate the offspring of the ones who killed her sister. She merely sealed Melody away, thinking the end of her transformation would spell her doom. That arrogant mistake spelled the end for herself instead.
It seemed an eternity passed in that darkness between Life and Death. Floating without any sense of time or direction, her awareness slowly coming undone. She thought she would tear her mind apart it was so endlessly dull, plagued by her memories and hallucinations as her senses tried to make sense of the void. She was starting to lose her sense of self when something wholly unexpected happened.
He found her.
The Master called to her from the world of the living, his voice piercing the dark like a harpoon. He offered her an escape from Death, power greater than she ever had, and a chance at revenge upon those who caused her demise. All she had to do was sign the contract. Just a little signature and she could return to exact her vengeance. How could she say no?
Morgana scowled, grumbling in foul temper. Look what her decision had gotten her. She had gone from a notorious sea witch to someone else's lackey. She was little more than a pawn, not even in the top three spots of command and without any way to ascend the ranks. She hated to admit it, but the order of authority in Maelstrom was as clear as it was ironclad.
The Master was at the top. He was the beginning and the end of Maelstrom. The alpha and the omega. There was no questioning that, nor any reason to hope or think it would ever change. Hate him as she did, Morgana dared not defy much less challenge him again. His command was as absolute as his power. He had made that perfectly clear when he tortured her and Ursula for their subterfuge. That warlock was on an entirely different level from any mage Morgana had ever encountered. To stand against the Master was to invite a slow and tortuous death.
Then there was Riptide. The monster came into their folds shortly after she and Ursula were brought back, but in the four years since he quickly rose to hold the position of the Master's left hand and third strongest in Maelstrom's ranks. Ursula created him entirely on accident while trying to bring back her eel henchmen Flotsam and Jetsam. What she instead created was the ultimate sea monster. A predator of all who braved the ocean. But though he was born from the remains of Ursula's once loyal lackeys, Riptide was not them in form or persona. He had neither gratitude nor loyalty to Ursula. His devotion lay with his appetite, and that depended entirely on who was able to satisfy his voracious hunger. Only the Master had been able to sate it, and Riptide rewarded his efforts. He never failed his tasks, and he grew larger and more powerful with each meal.
But terrifying as those two could be, neither were the one that Morgana feared the most. That belonged to the Master's right hand and the second strongest in Maelstrom–the human witch Remora.
Just thinking about her made Morgana quiver. For all Morgana's wicked ways, Remora's villainy was of a degree that made her and Ursula seem civil. That woman was human in form and a monster in everything else. Never had a witch been more suited for evil. Her affection for ruthless cruelty and suffering was legendary in the Maelstrom ranks, as was her dangerously unpredictable bloodlust. Anyone with half a mind knew to stay out of Remora's way lest they find themselves missing a limb or head on a whim. Violence and killing were like a drug to her, and she continually found new and terrible ways to satisfy that itch. Her chambers were rarely guarded while she was "working" because of the screams and gruesome noises from behind the doors. That and the stench of blood. She was also an accomplished engineer, able to produce machines that were decades beyond anything the Alliance could produce. Her creations were as terrifying as they were powerful. Perhaps just as frightening was her loyalty to the Master. She obeyed his orders unquestioningly and executed them to the letter. She was often dispatched with Riptide as her partner, as they were the only ones each was willing to cooperate with. It was a guarantee that, wherever Remora went, blood would be spilled and Maelstrom would claim victory.
Morgana witnessed that savagery firsthand when she accompanied Remora to Sharkania to gain their allegiance. Remora led them into the fortress as though on a stroll, killing every sharkanian that got in their way without slowing a step. Morgana did not have to lift a finger, merely following the trail of carnage left in the masked witch's wake.
They arrived in the throne room to find the now aging Emperor Sharga upon his lofty seat. Remora made their demands simple and clear. Sharkania was to swear absolute allegiance and subservience to Maelstrom. Sharga laughed right in their faces, flatly refusing their demands with some colorful words of his own. Remora gave him three days to rethink his answer. They left, but not before she ripped the gills from ten of his guards as a warning.
When they returned with Riptide in tow, Sharga greeted them with three hundred of his best soldiers and orders to kill them. Morgana had been preparing to go until Remora ordered her and Riptide to stay back and kill any that tried to escape.
She was glad she obeyed, because what happened next was nothing short of a massacre. Remora butchered every soldier that came against her with devastating efficiency, laughing maniacally at their pleas for mercy. The water turned red as she cut them down. Those that tried to flee met their end at Riptide's jaws or Morgana's own hand. In less than half an hour the entire army lay in literal pieces at Remora's feet. She walked into the Sharkanian fortress and returned with Sharga's head in her hand and threatened the same to anyone who refused. Morgana did not see what happened to Sharga, but his screaming went on for a full ten minutes before it suddenly stopped. The sharkanians threw down their weapons immediately, promising absolute fealty to the Master and Maelstrom.
That was the terror of Remora. The witch who single-handedly conquered Sharkania.
So where did that leave Morgana? Right smack at the bottom with Ursula. At least, that was how it appeared. She and her sister were on equal footing now in terms of power, but Ursula was in better favor with the Master even after their stunt at Melody's party. The results of Ursula's knowledge of the biological concepts and applications of witchcraft were evident. There was a reason the Master charged her with building his army and crafting their needed potions. She hit snags with her work recently, but Morgana knew it was only a matter of time before her sister figured them out. She had seen the first specimens herself. It was a rough product, but also promising.
Morgana stopped tapping. She needed to get out of this hole she dug for herself. The only way to do that was to get back in the Master's favor. He had control over her, and he had two minions at his disposal that could crush her like a hermit crab under a boot. There was nowhere she could go, nothing she could do, and no one she could kill that he would not find out about. That much she was certain of now. Without his approval she would remain a prisoner.
The question was how did she go about gaining said approval? She was not a master of potions like her sister. She favored a more direct approach than trickster spells and ensnaring contracts. Yet she did not have the sort of power that Remora and Riptide had that allowed them to confront the enemy head on. But despite not being the strongest or most talented villain in Maelstrom, she had one advantage over all of them.
Morgana was smart.
She learned from her mistakes. She saw connections where no one else did. And she calculated for the contingencies others failed to anticipate. When she put her mind to it, she could be just as great a threat as any of Maelstrom's strongest. The world was her chessboard, and she was a master at moving the pieces. It was one of the very few things Ursula had never been able to beat her at. Her sister was good, but Morgana was better.
She leaned back into her throne, folding her hands together. It was time to set up the board for a new game.
She was not going to rush this. She would take her time, and she had plenty to spare. This needed to be perfect. She needed to cover every angle, every possibility, and every unforeseen interference. Her goal was not outright subjugation, but entrapment. Draw the valuable pieces out and crush them till only the king was left on the board.
She closed her eyes. A board appeared in her mind as she set the pieces, each with its own particular shape for the element it represented. On one side was Maelstrom: the Master, Remora, Riptide, Ursula, their army of sharkanians, the pirates, the experiments, the Factory, their spy network, herself, and the newly recruited Richard Avitas. On the other side was the Alliance: Atlantica, Seahaven, the other kingdoms, the merfolk, Triton, Ariel, her sisters, Eric, the trident, Melody, and Prince William. Off to the side was the fire-wielding sorcerer and Lara Anclagon, their roles in the game still uncertain.
She moved the first piece. Sharkanian takes William. Lara Anclagon fills his place.
The scenarios began to unfold in her mind as the pieces moved over the board. She would find an answer. She would find the checkmate. She always did.
All she needed was time.
The Master, Remora, and Riptide watched the enchanted black pool as Morgana sat still, eyes closed as she contemplated.
"Took the witch long enough," said Remora, folding her arms together.
"And it will likely take as long before she gives us a plan," hissed Riptide from the dark, his luminous eyes peering down from overhead.
"Then we wait," said the Master, turning the pool dark with a wave as he walked back to his throne of bones. "Now that her energies are focused where I desire, I'll leave her to the task. She will produce a strategy for our forces. It's why I've tolerated the damage her insubordination caused us."
"What're we doing in the meantime?" asked Remora as she followed him. "We've been quiet for over a month now. Those fish-folk and their human chums aren't any closer to finding us. The Factory's packed on slaves. It'll be a while before we need to collect more."
"The trade ships are guarded now," added Riptide. "Triton's mermen are scouring the ocean for us day and night. Movement will be harder."
"Let them scour, Riptide," said the Master as he eased into his throne. "You are to remain hidden for now. Take no ships closer than thirty miles to land. Continue to hunt as you need, but leave no witnesses."
"As you wish, Master." The monster's eyes closed as he bowed his head and then turned and swam away, his enormous form creating large wakes in the water.
"As for you, Remora," said the Master. "I have a special task for you."
"What is it?" she asked.
"A hunt of your own. Make land in Strihaven and head south. There are rumors of a creature there hunting the humans. Take the Avitas boy and capture it. You are to bring it to me alive. And intact."
Remora cocked her head to the side. "What sort of creature needs me and that whelp to catch it?"
The Master chuckled. "A man-eater."
A/N: As always, your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Little Mermaid," Disney, or any of its associated characters and intellectual property. Everything else, however, is mine =)
