Fallen Princeborn: Chosen

by Jean Lee

  Liam searches for an end of the structures, but they sprout in clusters across the lake floor, visible with sunlight’s most distant reach. “What did you do…” He trails off, voice cracking before he can utter Father. Mother. What could possibly be gained from this?

  Charlotte scans the water above them—yes! A wobbly yellow dot! But she’s so thrown by Liam’s sudden odor of shame that she’s afraid to tip his chin upwards to show him. He gave me time to open. I gotta…gotta give him the same. Beat back The Lady, take him to skip some stones. That helped him open up before. The wobbly yellow dot grows, and grows, and—

  —Sky! Honest-to-golly-darn-goodness sky with clouds and sunlight, sandy shores and distant trees. Charlotte can see it all through the net and bubble’s membrane, even though it’s all a bit greasy looking. Liam sidles up alongside Charlotte to see whatever’s visible on either side of the nautili. “We’re on the northwestern side of the lake’s shore. The beach runs a very great distance here, in length and breadth. The Wall’s a short flight away.”

  “Wish we could pop this thing and breathe land air.” Charlotte prods the membrane as their bubble slows to a stop next to Captain’s nautilus. “Stupid electro-net.”

  With that, the net slips off the bubble with a slurping that puts Charlotte in the mood for a milkshake. Captain’s long finger presses into the top of the bubble aaaand Pop!

  “H-h-holy shit, I forg-g-got how c-c-cold this is!” Charlotte’s legs kick in, her arms tread, she’s still got air in her gill-less body, thank god—oh no, Liam! He’s flapping his arms like a desperate ostrich, his head already under water—

  Captain clicks with annoyance but holds out her hand. Charlotte grabs it and then reaches beneath the surface to find Liam’s forearm. “Hold me, Liam!”

  With a burst of water à la Little Mermaid, Liam whips his curls back and faces her with wow eyes, smile, the lot. “Thought you’d never ask.” And for all the clumsy flailing of his legs beneath the water, Liam’s arms wrap firmly around Charlotte’s shoulders and his mouth—his mouth is on her hair, she can feel the impression of his actual lips on the actual her.

  Just swim, Charlie! “Sh-shut up.”

  “I swear upon the crown, you two are the most bizarre gill-less folk I’ve ever met.” At least Captain sounds more amused than irritated. But the lightness of her voice is garbled now, too, like a tangled windchime. With one smooth motion she pulls Charlotte and Liam up onto the nautilus and slides herself down into the water. “Be silent now,” she instructs as they maneuver to sit. “Our ears and voices are meant for water. Land’s air carries far too much noise for us.”

  “Land-folk, do not dismount until ordered,” Queen Avo commands as sunlight sets the water droplets ablaze in her kelp hair and crown.

  Obsidian Mouth moistens his drying eyes with a handful of water. Guess these guys can’t stick around above water too long. Where is the She-Bear? Charlotte tries to find the lake’s southern shore, the small bit of River Vine she knows. The branches move as though playing in a breeze, all very innocent and picturesque for a vacation commercial. Or a slasher movie, take your pick.

  Liam, however, has spotted movement in a thicket two dozen stone skips away. Out of the coverage steps a mountain of fur—a horse-drawn chariot would surely be dwarfed next to the beast that’s haunted River Vine these past three centuries. She moves with a slight limp in her back leg—Charlotte had stabbed her with the blood dagger to save Liam’s life before freeing the bear cub from its snare. Oh yes, he knows those claws, those teeth, those penetrating eyes. He knew them that first night here, his father’s lips snarling with anger. Oh, you’ll have plenty to do here, boy. These commoners need a strong hand. His mother’s hand letting go only to show the thorns rooting themselves in his arm. There is also a beast wreaking havoc near the lake. It’s set a trap for you, but if you don’t kill it soon it will find a way to undermine you. Or leave it alone, coward you are.

  “Liam?”

  Listen to your mother. Kill them; prove yourself.

  “By Aether’s Fire,” he says, shivering against cold memory’s whispers, “she’s come after all.”

  Charlotte spits hair out of her mouth and whips it behind her head without spraying Liam (too much). “And there’s Arlen, too, with the cub!”

  Liam stares hard in disbelief at the thicket’s edge, where the gaunt man with peppered hair and beaming face hugs the scrawny, yelping cub like a child.

  All watch Queen Avo and Obsidian Mouth dismount and swim to the shallows. With legs and translucent fin-arms, Obsidian Mouth holds his rope-net in readiness for a quick capture. The queen, however, continues to walk unarmed until she is knee-deep in the water. The She-Bear enters the water in kind until they stand face to face.

  “Hail, Queen Avo, Monarch of Stellaqui.” The She-Bear’s nose graces the lake’s surface when she bows. Her voice has a deep richness to it, like a silver screen femme fatale. “I am grateful for your audience.”

  The queen, too, bows her head. “I swore to you I would watch over your child. When my patrol found her absent, I feared the worst.”

  “As you can see,” the mother bear nods her head, “my child has been returned to her element at last, thanks to those whom you hold prisoner.”

  “They,” the queen’s mouth swirls for a moment before returning to a thinly pressed line, “trespassed. And assaulted my people.” She motions towards Obsidian Mouth.

  Obsidian Mouth gives his eyes another quick splash of water before squinting angrily.

  A low laugh rumbles in the She-Bear’s throat.

  “I agree these two prefer combat to diplomacy. But seeking sanctuary from the wicked is no crime.”

  “The wicked of your kind breed like worms.”

  “We know,” Arlen says as he sets the cub down to take slow, careful steps with open hands.

  Obsidian Mouth pulls back to throw the green rope.

  “Wait!” Charlotte almost falls off the nautilus to reach out, but Liam holds her back, silent and mystified that Arlen would be here with the beast, would treat the cub with such familiarity.

  Captain clicks a few words at Obsidian Mouth, then quietly adds, “Merely a defensive protocol. The princeborn is familiar to us all.”

  “It’s all right, Charlotte,” Arlen calls across the water. He wades closer to the She-Bear. “Your highness, you know our sad history. You know we’ve suffered under the wickedness of our own kind. Those you hold now are not responsible for the pain you suffer. They…” Arlen’s eyes reach out to them, and Charlotte can almost feel the gentle scratch Arlen had her given behind her ears that night in the music room as she cried about her sister, life, everything. “They are family.”

  Liam’s throat twists. Did he truly call me…after all I’ve done…

  The She-Bear growls in agreement. “And we ask, on good faith and shared pain, that you return them now to us.”

  Queen Avo double-blinks as her fins fold over the pearl amulet. A breeze carries kelp-hair across her face. The lake water itself seems to bubble up and around her as she half-speaks, half-clicks. “I want blood. I want reparation for the horrors done to my people.”

  The She-Bear moves closer, her black nose one snort away from the queen’s crown. “As do we. But not here. Blind bloodshed,” she finds the queen’s eyes, “begets nothing but pain.”

  Queen Avo lowers her head. “I know.” A high buzz to Obsidian Mouth. He lowers his rope. To Captain she says, “Have the land-folk dismount.”

  Captain’s sigh comes out like wind through a hollow trunk. “Right. The nautilus cannot move any closer, so you’ll have to swim. If you can swim.” Wry gesture at Liam.

  “We’ll be fine. Just wishin’ for a space-heater.” Charlotte waits a couple breaths before sliding in. C’mon, Liam, where’s the little impish comeback? Where’s the “I’ll be your heater”? Where the hell ARE you in there? C’mon, it’s Arlen, your teacher. You should be stoked to see him okay. But Liam says nothing, the air turn
ing acidic around him. Why are you so apprehensive?

  Arlen wades in, past the queen and She-Bear.

  Charlotte finally pulls Liam into the water. “Thank you, Captain,” she says, kind of struggling, because Liam’s kicking sucks and he ain’t exactly light as a duck on her back. “Sorry about, the, you know, ‘Blinkey’ thing.”

  Captain double-blinks, and smirks. “At least you are honest. Rude, but honest.” She holds Charlotte’s arm and pulls them both into the shallows, where their feet can finally touch the sand. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see if the librarians can find a cure for,” she watches Obsidian Mouth mount up, slide off, mount up again, “whatever you did.”

  “Y-yeah, sorry about that, too.” Charlotte wants to wave, but Liam’s arms are still tight around her shoulders. Even with the sand in her toes she has this feeling from his rapid, shallow breath on her left ear, so full of sadness and shame, that if she lets go of him, he’s going to sink right back into the water. Why, why are you so heavy like this? I don’t care that your head’s resting against mine…well okay, maybe I do, a whole lot, GAH. Just please, get that shame out of you.

  While Captain and Queen Avo both swim back to their nautili, Charlotte can at last press through the water for the gaunt man she’s missed as much as her father. “You’re okay!” Charlotte waits until they are waist-high in the water before gently prying Liam’s arms away. “C’mon, Liam, you don’t need a tugboat. They’re not gonna net us now.” She makes a few more leaps in the water before lunging the last stretch into Arlen’s hug. “I was so worried The Lady’d find you,” she says, her arms tight about his neck.

  “Good Charlotte, you have been dearly, dearly missed.” His dark eyes sparkle with mischief, smile broad and full of a heart’s warmth.

  Then he looks at Liam.

  Liam’s gash from Captain’s spear is black from the dagger’s burning, and crusty, too. The bruises from his many falls have yellowed, purpled, spread: the sharpness of their lines surely dictate the breaking of bones, too many, yet he stands, whole. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, cheeks a frightening mix of bruise and crimson.

  “What…” Arlen sets Charlotte down and comes within a couple feet of Liam. He reaches out. But does not touch.

  Liam stands, shoulders and head drooping. “Why are you with them?” The question comes out with small, clipped words.

  Charlotte follows Liam’s gaze towards the She-Bear and the cub, who whines pitifully for its mother to exit the water, but the mother bear is aiding Queen Avo as she trades legs for arms to sit upon the nautilus.

  The salt of Arlen’s hair seems lost to the pepper, the lines of his face retreating as he speaks with armed, pointed words: “What have you done to him?”

  Queen Avo’s voice struggles in the wind. “Our nets are never kind, Princeborn. You find your own returned to you whole and unstudied. Be thankful.”

  Liam’s eyes are overcast with memory: Mother upon Rose House’s roof, hair flying like mad ravens. Father’s laughter echoing across scorched earth. Brother hiding from Mother’s critical hand. Arlen somewhere, at last, trapped with nowhere to hide. Always hiding where I could not find him in those black. Painful. Years. Mother speaking as the black thorns make themselves at home upon my arm: “Listen to your mother: those bears are a gift to you. Bring a swift end to them, and you will return to my good graces once more, my son.”

  Listen to your mother

  “Hey!” Charlotte flicks one of Liam’s ears. “Dammit, now I made one of your last uninjured bits go red.”

  The She-Bear moves forward in the water, eyeing Liam skeptically.

  Dark golden hair whips into Liam’s face—Charlotte, muttering, “Dumb braid. Hold on.”

  Arlen’s fists clench at his sides. Sinews taut, voice a growl. “I was assured they were uninjured.”

  Obsidian Mouth clicks and points to his melted mouth. Captain lobs a ball of water at him to shut him up.

  “Arlen, they are whole and with us. We must return to the others.” The beast wades up alongside Arlen and nuzzles him like…like…

  “Hey hey hey, Liam, use your legs, come on. Arlen, I think he’s gonna faint.”

  Arlen backs into place at Liam’s side, eyes wide and flaring upon the queen. The smell of righteous anger fills Charlotte’s nostrils, drowning out even Liam’s shame.

  The She-Bear speaks. “You have always treated the House of Constantine with kindness. On behalf of my family, I thank you.” Bows her head.

  Queen Avo watches Arlen and Charlotte carry Liam to shore. The bear cub clambers up Arlen’s leg the moment he touches sand. Liam sits, indifferent to the earth, gaze somewhere between the She-Bear and the past.

  “Your family grows in strange ways,” Queen Avo says.

  “Far better strange than lost.”

  Captain and Obsidian Mouth sidle up to the queen’s nautilus. Queen Avo holds a hand to her mouth as though to kiss it, then draws a circle in the air and remains palm upward. “May you be stronger than the storm.”

  Charlotte’s heart swells with the Voice’s glee. You know those words.

  Queen Avo continues: “May the sea-song guide—"

  “—guide you to safe waters, and may the stars bring life to your spirit!” It’s like Charlotte’s dad had come into the present, for just a moment, but in a good way—not like the fucked-up doll-lure in the Pits. Just the sound of those words, the care they always carried from her dad when he saw the old crew—Charlotte felt like she just got a hug through time. If only she could just pass that warmth to Liam, who shivers next to her, eyes wow-less. “I thought that was a Navy thing for goodbye.”

  Obsidian Mouth double-blinks in surprise before sliding off his nautilus in a slew of click-curses. For the first time—of course, in parting—Captain gives a genuine smile. “I warrant the High Sage will want to hear of this, your highness.”

  Queen Avo taps her swirling lips with a single, spindly finger. “Indeed.” She clicks her nautilus to bob down and up to moisten her tail. The sunlight on her captured waterdrops blinds Charlotte, but she can hear a kinder tinkling in the queen’s voice when she says, “House of Constantine, may I request you watch over this girl of the familiar eyes? She intrigues the High Sage.”

  The She-Bear hesitates, then bows her head. “A small favor to repay for all you’ve done.”

  If it wasn’t before, Arlen’s anger is now washed away by curiosity. “It seems I have another reason to watch you for long, odd moments.”

  Charlotte just goes on squishing sand in her toes.

  Captain and Queen Avo give a final wave (while Obsidian Mouth crosses his arms and harumphs, if that is possible dolphin-speak). “Farewell to you, Princeborns. Farewell, Miss Charlotte Gill-less Meatbag.”

  The She-Bear rears up on her hind legs with a shocked gasp in her maw. “Never have I heard such rude—”

  But Arlen’s body convulses with restrained laughter. The bear cub rolls about in the sand, batting its paws towards Arlen’s legs.

  Even Liam wakens at last from his bruised convalescence. “What?”

  “The meatbag thing’s biting me in the ass again.” Charlotte stands up, dusts the sand off her tattered pants. “It’s just Charlotte. Of the, um, house of Aegir. Family name.”

  “I’ll tell the High Sage,” Captain says, nautilus sinking. “He’s a grand memory for names.”

  Obsidian Mouth rolls his stony eyes and dips below the water. Queen Avo smiles at She-Bear one more time before the water swallows her without a ripple.

  10

  Parlay

  “’Girl of the familiar eyes’? You’re developing quite a collection of titles.”

  Charlotte gives Arlen a quick smile. “They were about to make us part of their Library’s collection before She-Bear came a-LONG!”

  She-Bear stands at water’s edge RIGHT next to Charlotte. Her nose is the size of two fists put together, eyes boundless as the cosmos and just as overwhelming.

  “Sorry, I, er,
you surprised me.” Charlotte futzes with the blood dagger’s harness, now very, very aware of its weight on her shoulders, somehow heavier than Liam’s whole body in the water. “Is your leg okay?”

  She-Bear snorts.

  Arlen sets the cub running towards the thicket. “Come along, all of you. Dorjan and the others are waiting.”

  But She-Bear does not move. “Why do you wear his weapon?”

  Liam remains still on the shore where Charlotte and Arlen placed him, his speckled curls limp, his bruises painting an abridged story of the pain he felt in the nets. So Charlotte answers, “The dagger worked for me in Dissecto-Library-Horrorland.” Charlotte grips one of Liam’s arms and hoists him to his feet.

  The She-Bear bares her teeth, but Arlen’s hand upon her head silences her. “You…you worked land magic underwater?” he asks.

  “How do you think that one mer-dude’s face got melted?”

  Liam’s hand, as mottled as the rest of him, opens and closes as Charlotte wills. Her fingers press his own tightly about his own weapon.

  Leather, iron, blood. Then comes the touch of Charlotte—sparks rip through his frame. No more the beaten boy.

  “Try it now, Liam. C’mon, get some heartburn goin’. Blood firin’. You know. Flame on. Ppppffffooow.”

  Liam closes his eyes and feels his inner wings stretch to blot out the past, if only for a few moments. He wraps his other hand around the base of the blade. The dagger takes its blood, as always.

  This time, it pays back.

  The blade crackles as it lengthens, its feathers smoldering. The blood sword shines as it did in the forge so long ago, when Liam’s ambitions burned their brightest. He brings the blade close to his face to taste old victories in its heat. He sees the world in melting waves, as he did so often after striking the earth, commanding it to swallow armies and villages whole.

  There are no armies now. No villages. Only Charlotte dripping like a botched painting. Arlen halved on one side of the dagger; the beast halved on the other.