“It’s a bluff—look how they fire across our bow,” she said.
“Are you willing to gamble our lives on that?” Tallyn asked. “Your daughter’s life?”
She swung around and stared at him before her eyes shifted to me. She looked caught, vulnerable.
Behind her, Valus came running. He braced himself against the door as the ship shuddered from another blast.
“Hail them,” he said. “That’s my father’s ship. If we run, they’ll destroy us.” He paused and sucked in a breath. “Hail them. Tell them I’m aboard.”
My mother turned her gaze on him, and to his credit, he didn’t cower beneath it. “Prepare to dive,” she said, still looking at Valus.
“Dive where? They’re right on top of us.”
She didn’t answer. She looked again at the ship lurking in the dark water.
“You’re making a mistake,” he snarled. “If we run, they’ll sink this ship.”
My mother looked from him to the ship.
“Do you want her to die?” Valus motioned at me.
My mother looked at her captain.
“Hail them. Do what he says.”
Silence settled over the cabin as the ship turned toward us. A shadow blocked the light.
We were surrounded.
~ ~ ~
Soldiers swarmed the ship. They bound our hands as we knelt at weapon point. My mother submitted to this in fierce, icy silence. The rest of us kept our heads down and likewise said nothing, except Garren, who struggled against his bonds and spat curses at the soldiers. One of them subdued him with a fist to the face, and he lay groaning on the ground, his legs splayed awkwardly and his bound arms pinned behind his back. Nol helped him up, using his shoulder to brace him.
“Do you know who I am?” Valus demanded when one of the soldiers put a hand on his arm as if to restrain him, too. “I’m the missing son of Governor Nautilus. I’ve returned to my father. Unhand me at once.”
After a closer look, the soldiers blanched and released him. “Sorry, sir,” the one who appeared to be in charge said with a bow. “We will inform your father at once. Come with us.”
Valus straightened his tunic and headed for the hatch. As he passed Garren, the Dron spat in his face.
“Traitor,” Garren said. “You signaled them. You betrayed us all.”
Valus didn’t reply or acknowledge the Dron soldier at all. He had transformed before these soldiers into something cold and marble-like.
“This one stays with me,” Valus said, pointing at me. “She’s mine. Put the rest of the scum in the brig.”
The soldiers listened to him, pushing me apart from the others before leading them away.
Nol twisted around, his jaw flexing as he struggled against the soldiers, but they shoved him forward, and then they were gone, and Valus and I were alone with our armed escort. We were ushered off the Dolphin and down a gleaming corridor, past windows that looked over the sea, past bronzed columns and sculptures of mermaids that clasped glowing red orbs in their cupped hands. Spiraling staircases led to upper levels. A rotunda of stained glass let in a waterfall of colored light that rippled over the heads and shoulders of the soldiers as they moved forward steadily, their boots making dull clipping sounds on the floor. I tried not to gape in astonishment at the lavish surroundings.
This wasn’t simply a warship. It was almost a small city.
A city populated only by people in gleaming uniform, however. The halls and staterooms were vacant, their lush carpets untrod. The sound of our passage echoed in the emptiness.
“My father’s flagship,” Valus explained for my ears alone. “He designed it personally, and made it his home while my mother and I remained elsewhere. After she died, I spent a few months living on this ship.” His mouth twisted at some memory, and I doubted it was a good one. “I think he designed it with his eventual overthrow of Itlantis in mind.”
The soldiers marched us to a pair of bronzed doors carved with tentacles. They halted. The doors swung open, and then I was staring into a pair of frosty, familiar eyes.
Governor Nautilus.
He was exactly as I remembered him—tall, with curly black hair, an elegant nose and jutting chin, full lips like his son, and eyes that seemed to strike me whenever they met mine. My stomach curled as a flash of a memory chased through my head, a memory of another ship, where I’d been a captive, this time just a bewildered slave, and Nautilus had sentenced me to be killed for seeing him.
Now, he wore a black bodysuit overlaid with the flexible, light armor the soldiers who had raided the villages had worn, and over that, he wore a cloak with a ribbon of red along the bottom. He stood behind a table strewn with maps, and his fingers curled as he beckoned me forward.
“Come in,” he said, as if inviting me for tea. He didn’t spare as much as a glance for his son.
The soldier behind me pushed me into the room. It was round, and thick fabric draped the walls in shining folds. Above us, light filtered down from a ceiling painted to look like a sky with clouds.
He clasped his hands behind his back. “Aemiana Graywater,” he said. “At last.”
I didn’t say anything.
He waved the soldiers away, and they withdrew, leaving Valus, Nautilus, and me alone in the lush chamber.
Valus stood straight with his chin up, but he seemed to wither when his father finally cast a glance at him.
“Father,” he said in greeting.
“Ah,” Nautilus said. “The prodigal returns.” He nodded at me. “Untie her.”
Valus moved behind me. His fingers brushed mine, and his hands were cold and whisper-delicate against my wrists. He unbound my hands and then stepped back, resuming his earlier position of attention.
“You,” Nautilus said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You had me once,” I responded. “Do you remember?”
His mouth twitched. “I almost killed you without knowing who you were. How fortunate for us both that the Mist intervened.”
He knew about that? About them?
My surprise must have shown on my face, for he laughed.
“I am not as stupid as you might think, my lady. I have eyes in more places than you might think.”
“What do you plan to do with us?”
He tipped his head to the side. “You, I’ll keep. The others, I haven’t decided yet.”
“I won’t cooperate if you hurt the others.”
“Hmm,” he said. “I think perhaps you will.”
He pulled a cord hanging along the wall, and the doors opened. The soldiers swept in and took Valus and me away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I EXPECTED A cell, but instead, the soldiers escorted me to a lavish sleep chamber decorated in similar style to the room where Nautilus had received us. Thick red carpet padded the floors, and a pattern of tangled gold embossed the walls. Thick furniture carved from coral was bolted down along the walls, including a bureau and a bed surrounded by columns.
No ports looked out into the sea. The room, while beautiful, was effectively a cell.
The soldiers locked the door behind me, but not before Valus slipped inside. No one stopped him.
“Well,” I said. “That was a fine display of your true feelings for all of us. ‘She’s mine? The rest of the scum?’”
“That was an act back there with the soldiers!”
I gazed at him silently.
“I didn’t do this,” he said. “I didn’t signal my father. I know you don’t believe me, but I didn’t. However, I can get us out of here.”
“Why? What’s in it for you?”
His smile was bitter. “I promised you, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I admitted.
He went to the door and hammered on it with his fist. “Let me out,” he said to the guard on the other side.
He gave me one last glance before he stepped through the opening, and I was alone.
~ ~ ~
Hours passed. Days? It was
impossible to tell. The room had no timepieces, and every moment crawled past as I paced between the bed and the bureau, thinking of plans and discarding them. I froze every time the stamp of boots echoed outside the door, but no one came for me. Finally, I lay down to rest.
Dreams came thick and fast, pummeling me. I was a child, holding a man’s hand. My father? We were on a ship together, and he hummed a song beneath his breath as we stood looking at the sea. Dolphins swam alongside us and played in the wake of the ship. They made me laugh, and my father laughed too. For some reason, the sound of him laughing left an ache in my chest, like I hadn’t heard it before and felt uncertain about getting used to it.
A hand shook me from sleep. I bolted upright.
A woman clad in a dark red tunic bent over me. “Calm yourself, my lady,” she said, more an order than a reassurance. “I am here to measure you.”
“Measure me?”
“For your wedding clothes.”
“I... what?” Sleep had fogged my brain. I stared at her, and she made an impatient sound and pointed at the floor.
“Stand there.”
I climbed from the bed, and she whipped a measuring stick from her sleeve and dropped to her knees beside me.
“Don’t move.”
I eyed the door. It was shut, and undoubtedly guarded.
She rose and forcibly turned me around to measure my back.
“What do you mean, my wedding clothes?”
“For your wedding.” Every syllable was clipped, as if she were hoarding words.
“I’m not getting married.”
“No? Your betrothed seems to think so,” she said briskly. “Turn.”
My betrothed.
Valus.
Trust me.
What sort of plan was this?
I turned fast to throw her off balance, bringing up one hand to her neck as I moved the other behind her foot, pushing hard enough to knock her down as I’d been taught in my defense classes with Tallyn. She went down in a tumble of red fabric, and I grabbed the first thing I could reach—a lamp made from a shell—to hit her over the head.
The door burst open and Valus strode in.
“Beloved,” he sang out, as if catching me in the act of knocking out servants was a daily occurrence for him. “Are you dressed yet, Mermaid Face? We’re dining with my father.”
I lowered the shell as the woman climbed to her feet with Valus’s assistance. He looked at the shell, and I tossed it on the bed and scowled at him. He tsked.
“She has a temper,” he said to no one in particular. “It’s all that exposure to the sun in her early days. Makes people a bit mad.”
He was acting once again, this time in an excessively cheerful way that grated. He was one “Angelfish” away from getting slapped again.
But I had to cooperate if we were going to do this.
“Beloved,” I said to him, grinding out the word. “You haven’t told me everything. You know how I am when I’m not told all the plans...”
“Excuse us, please,” Tallyn said to the woman, and she departed with a final sniff of disapproval.
“You were going to hit her with this?” He picked up the discarded shell lamp and turned it over in his hand before shooting me a twisted smile.
“Your servants are a bit commanding,” I said. “And I didn’t want anyone to think I was going to be pushed around even though I’m a prisoner.”
“Senseless violence. I like it.” He gave me a startlingly genuine smile. “Also, that is my sister. Do you think a servant to Nautilus would be so bold? They aren’t like your shock cook. They have manners.”
I bristled at that. “What are you doing, Valus? She mentioned a wedding.”
“Why, we’re getting married.
He held up a hand to quiet my furious bewilderment. “My father couldn’t possibly execute or torture the one I love, not when I begged so passionately for him to spare you.”
So this was his plan to keep me safe?
“I thought your father cared nothing for you.”
Valus winced. “You put it so kindly. Yes, my father thinks I am about as important as the barnacles on the side of this ship, but he does want my cooperation.”
“Cooperation for what?”
Valus smirked. “Someone needs to be the heir of his kingdom once he’s consolidated it.”
“You have a sister,” I pointed out.
“My father doesn’t approve of women in leadership. He likes them meek and quiet.”
He must hate every woman in my family, then.
I looked at the door that still undoubtedly had guards outside. “What about the rest of our group?”
“I can’t marry everyone,” Valus said. He leaned close, his eyes fierce as he dropped his mocking grin. “Never mind them. I don’t care about them.”
The intensity in his voice shook me.
“Valus,” I said, a knot growing in my stomach.
He turned away from me, looking at the door as if he meant to leave. I grabbed his wrist, and he flinched as if he expected me to hit him instead. I let go.
“Please,” I said. “Can I speak to my mother?”
It seemed like a reasonable request for a girl who was soon to be married to make.
He lifted his eyes to mine, and for a second, his face was naked and vulnerable before it hardened.
“We’ll be in Volcanus tomorrow, and when we arrive, I’ll do what I can,” he said, and then he raised his fist to bang on the door, and the guards opened it. He swept out, leaving me behind, filled with questions and fears.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SINCE MY LAVISH cell had no ports through which to view the city as we approached, I sat on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, thinking through things. Wondering if Annah had gotten my relay.
The ship shuddered and shifted. We were docking. My veins hummed with restless anxiety as I listened to every clang and guttural groan of metal against metal. I tried to remember what I’d learned from Merelus’s pryor about Volcanus. The military city, located in the depths of the ocean, it drew power from an underwater volcano. I didn’t know much else.
The door opened, and I sprang up.
Valus, accompanied by a pair of guards in black armor, their faces obscured by helmets. Instead of truskets, they carried spears with tassels dangling from the heads. They took positions by the door and stood stiffly as Valus stepped into the room.
“We’ve arrived, Angelfish,” he said.
One of the faceless guards spoke. “You will be granted the dignity of not being bound, but I warn you, it will be revoked if you try to run or do anything to escape.”
Valus stretched out his hand. His eyes bored into mine.
Trust me, he’d said.
I hesitated, swallowing my words, drawing myself into my best impression of my mother, cool and imperious in the face of danger. Slowly, I extended my hand to take his. He turned his wrist and slid his fingers between mine, startling me, but I supposed he had to maintain the ruse of affection for the guards. I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t. I could feel the tension in him as he drew me to his side and led me through the door.
The halls of the ship swarmed with soldiers. It seemed Nautilus’s flagship carried an army. I kept my head high even though my skin prickled with the expectation of a spear between my shoulder blades every time we passed one of the men in shining black and red.
Valus didn’t hesitate when we reached a pair of doors, round with a seam splitting them down the middle, edged with gold. He strode forward, and my heart pounded.
The doors opened, and with Valus at my side, I stepped through them into the city of Volcanus.
The air smelled like warm stone and singed metal. Our footsteps echoed. Gleaming, slippery walls arched above us, shining black like octopus ink, held aloft by columns. Everything was curved, sinuous, and sleek as the ripples of seaweed in undulating waves. Light shimmered across every surface as if the room around us were made of water. I felt small and los
t, as though I were floating alone in the middle of a great frozen, black lake.
Guards stood at every column, and they bowed as we passed. Lines in the floor glowed faintly, marking a path forward to a door in the shape of a shark’s fin. The guards who had accompanied Valus stopped when we reached the door, and two more fell into step behind us, taking their places. Every movement was precise, practiced, a militant dance performed in rigid silence.
Valus’s hand was tight around mine as we stepped through the door, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp.
The path led through a tunnel of glass, straight as a spear’s edge, but below lay a vast chamber filled with ships. Men marched in formation past them and others swarmed over the docked vessels with tools in their hands. I wanted to press my hands to the glass and stare, but Valus was still walking, and I forced myself to keep pace with him, watching only from the corners of my eyes as we passed over the army of Itlantis, which was now in the control of Nautilus alone.
The glass darkened as we passed the chamber. The walls became black and shiny again before we passed through a second tunnel of glass, this one looking over the cubes and domes of a city carved straight from the rock. Glass globes—the garden spheres, I realized—clung to the walls of rock like octopus eggs, and inside them, I saw the movement of figures and the gleam of low lights among shadowy spires of rock.
When we’d left the second tunnel of glass and entered another stone corridor, Valus stopped before a door embedded with blue stones.
“This was my mother’s room whenever she stayed here,” he said. “My family doesn’t receive many guests on Volcanus, but this is the finest we have. I hope you will be comfortable.”
He bowed slightly and swept a hand toward the room. I shifted my gaze to the guards, ever impassive, and then stepped inside.
Again, no windows to give a view of the sea beyond, although the ceiling was composed entirely of yellow and orange glass, with faint light filtering through and bathing everything in gold. A vast bed draped with curtains dominated the room, and through a door beyond, I saw a tub of black stone.
In Dawn and Darkness Page 12
