by Plum Pascal
“Bastion?” she starts but I interrupt.
“I’ve loved you since I was a boy, Aria.”
“Why have you never told me this before?”
I take a deep breath. “Because the time was never right. And it’s not right or fair to bring it up now, but I must. Opeia has been pushing me to tell you for years, but I couldn’t.”
“Why?” Her voice sounds haunted.
“I couldn’t tell you when you needed your focus to be on protecting our people. I couldn’t divide your loyalty. It wasn’t my place, not for a lowly guard. But now...” I suck in a deep breath. “But now, we’re going to face Triton. There’s every chance I may die protecting you.” I take another breath, and then expel it. “I wanted you to know the truth, Aria. Even if nothing ever comes of it, I want you to know I love you and I always have.”
I lean in, unable to help myself, and steal another of those tingling kisses. She meets the kiss and her eyelashes flutter closed. When I spot the rest of our crew approaching, I pull away.
I stride away from her before she can formulate any kind of response. Because I can’t stand the idea of her trying to tell me she feels the same way. Even if she is fond of me, even if she does love me…
I already know she loves him more.
THIRTEEN
ANDRIC
I’ve always thought I knew the sea.
I was born on a boat, thirty miles off the shore of Delorood, to a woman who was known colloquially as the next best thing to a siren. My mother taught me to swim only weeks after I learned to walk. As such, my hands know the feel of rope, canvas, and wood of the Ashray, my mother’s ship, better than the feel of my bedsheets in the castle.
But, truly, I may as well be considered a mere hobbyist, because I’ve only grazed the surface of the ocean’s wonders.
I can’t help but stare as we paddle farther and farther outward, propelled along by the aquatic suits we’ve purchased from a merchant. They were Geppetto’s design, originally, I believe. A brilliant man, though his predilections are warped. I wonder if he’s still trying to create the perfect boy out of metals and wood—a boy to act as his son. The most recent of his creations, named Dolion, was Geppetto’s best yet, but the wooden boy was still banished.
We’ve been going for almost half a day now and we’re making great strides, though my muscles burn. We’ll need to surface soon.
The journey is planned out in three jaunts. Aria estimates it will take us quite a while to reach a strategic point from which to strike, owing to the slow pace these aquatic suits enforce. We have to surface every now and again to allow the suits to replenish our air supply. We float on our backs and sleep in shifts, with at least three of us awake at a time to be on guard against sea monsters or hostile merfolk.
This journey has been, in short, incredible. Awe-inspiring. Unbelievable. And I don’t want to miss a single, breathtaking moment, especially not to sleep.
We traversed the thick kelp fields hours ago, staying close enough to the surface that the heat of the sun still burned through the water to lick at our backs. It was almost peaceful, even watching small predators wind through the leaves beneath us in search of prey. None big enough to challenge us or strong enough to break through our suits.
Now, we swim deeper, where the cold is more pronounced. Not so cold as the depths, Aria assures us with a light laugh, but still colder that we’re used to. We’re gliding over a reef and the vegetation is so colorful, it almost hurts the eyes. Lurid reds, oranges, and yellows are splashed onto the ocean floor with abandon and the curling shapes of the plants are intriguing. I wish I had longer to study them. I can only imagine how much richer our knowledge of the ocean would be if I could commit all of this to a journal.
But this isn’t the time for science or mild artistic appreciation. We have a king to overthrow, and in order to do so, we have to rest. Aria plans to send Bastion down to the trenches to retrieve still more soldiers to aid us. As many soldiers as the deeps can spare, which will lift our total from twenty-one to twenty-eight. I wish the hike in numbers brightened my outlook, but alas, the only sense of joy I can muster comes with the thought that at least these final days will be pleasant—the sea spread out before me in glorious color and my lovely siren bride gliding through the water beside me.
It’s hard to keep my eyes off her for any length of time, even with the splendor of the ocean to distract me. Having regained her true form, she’s just as captivating in her mermaid form as she is in her human body. She has a long, sinuous tail that’s the same color as the markings on her cheeks and nose. Her hair is colorless now, the magenta having drained away the second we hit the water. Too garish I suppose, to wear in the ocean, where predators might take notice of it. Instead, the long mass shifts color as the light and surroundings change. It’s like watching a beautiful mirage.
And then, there’s her upper body. The slender waist, the sultry curve upward toward her slim shoulders and full breasts. She doesn’t seem embarrassed that they’re completely bare. She even went so far as to scoff at the suggestion from one of my men that she cover them. Not that I blamed him, as they are quite distracting.
“Cover them with what?” she asked him with a frown. He proposed shells, to which she responded, “Shells? I can’t swim with shells on! Algae will give me a rash. And Hook asked me not to cut them off, so you’ll just have to deal with them.”
Cut them off? Just the thought makes me shudder.
She catches my expression and answers it with one of her own: a grin. I love her smiles. Tentative and unsure, as though she’s not quite comfortable with relaying information through gestures and facial expressions. I gather merfolk don’t use facial expressions to communicate in the same way humans do.
I envy the bond that Hook has with her. Not only for the fact that he so very clearly owns her heart, but for the physical advantages it presents, as well. He seems to have gained the same abilities as merfolk without developing the attributes of a tail and gills. He can stay submerged in the water without breathing—the only concession he has to make is a pair of goggles, so the saltwater doesn’t sting his eyes. I should quite enjoy being in his position.
Aria swims closer, and the motion of her body is absolutely stunning. The motion begins in the tips of her fingers and rolls down her body, moving those lovely breasts in time, aiding her tail and pushing her several yards in one go. It’s a shame we’re swimming so closely together—I should rather admire her from afar, when I can see all of her at once. I can—and have—watched her move all day long.
“Is something wrong?” she asks, her voice still somehow carrying through the water. I’m not sure how she does it.
“Wrong?” I ask, through the bulbous swimming mask that looks more like an upside-down fishbowl atop my head.
“You’ve been quiet the entire extent of this trip. I don’t think I’ve heard you speak since we left Bridgeport, except to give orders to your men.”
She drops her voice and scans the shapes moving around us. The rest of the crew have pulled ahead, led by her second-in-command, Bastion, and the Chosen one, Kassidy.
“Are you anxious, Andric?”
“No, I’m in awe, actually,” I say with a laugh. My voice comes out sounding like static, owing to the nature of Geppetto’s invention. Still, we’re lucky we can communicate at all; most underwater models don’t have this advanced a system.
Her smile grows and she tentatively tugs one lip between her teeth. I almost groan. The kittenish look on her face never fails to make me hard. Damn my chivalry. I promised not to touch her unless she wanted it and asked for it. Thus, I suppose I’ve promised to maintain a distant, loveless marriage, if that’s what she wants. But the truth is, I want her. The evidence of just how much presses urgently against the front of my swimming apparatus. It’s fortunate the material is thick and doesn’t give easily, or else she’d see the proof of my desire.
“Oh?” she asks. “In awe of what?”
&nbs
p; “The ocean.” I turn my head and take in my surroundings. “I never knew it could be like this. Such wild beauty. Untouched by man. I knew it was beautiful but...” I trail off, a smile of my own tugging up the corners of my mouth. I’m sure it must look strange through the bubble of glass that protects my head.
Aria’s truly grinning now, the color in her markings brighter than I’ve seen it to date. She’s so goddamn lovely. Someone should really capture her essence with oils on canvas. Unfortunately, I can’t paint.
“I’m glad you like it,” she says as she studies her surroundings, as if seeing them for the first time. “It used to be even lovelier.”
“Used to?”
She nods. “Some of the reefs are suffering due to Triton’s negligence. The venom a kraken releases is toxic to most of the plants here, and they’re slow to recover. There’s a reason krakens are meant to stay in the lowest depths.”
I can’t imagine this place being more stunning than it is now, but I take her word for it.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
She turns her attention back to me. “Sure about what?”
“Your plan to overthrow your father. Are you certain it’s what you want?”
Aria’s shoulders hunch forward a little, as if the reminder is a physical blow. Pain spasms across her face for an instant before she’s able to hide it. She steels her expression and nods. “What I want doesn’t factor into it, Andric.”
“Why not?”
“My people and yours are going to continue to suffer if nothing is done.”
I shrug. “Still, he’s your father. I get along well enough with mine, yet it’s still difficult to disagree with the old man. It must be far, far worse for you.”
The rest of our party has paused almost a mile up ahead, casting curious glances back at us as though they wonder what we could be conversing about. We should start moving before one of the curious sorts comes back to eavesdrop, but still, I don’t move. The look in those pale eyes of Aria’s is haunted and the expression on her face belongs to a small girl, not the beautiful and capable woman in front of me.
“My father cast me out, Andric. He banished me over a disagreement. And I was so young. I wasn’t even old enough to vote on a council yet. And he cursed me, by Poseidon’s name, to die alone and afraid.”
Her face twists, and I’m sure if she could shed tears, she’d have been weeping.
“I am truly sorry to hear that.”
She nods. “What sort of father could ever...?” she begins, but trails off. She can’t seem to find the words.
I have none to offer her, either. Wonderful timing, Andric. Become uselessly tongue-tied when a maiden is in distress.
I take her hand in mine and twine our fingers together as best I can through the mitt-like glove I wear. The attempt is not as comforting as it ought to be, because the fingers of the suit are heavy and cumbersome. I dislike the suit intensely, more so than I have yet. I think I’d trade all the air left in the apparatus for the opportunity to hold her close at this moment.
“Your father doesn’t deserve you,” I tell her gently. “And you’re going to make him regret every terrible thing he ever did to you. We all are.”
Aria’s head bobs, though I’m not sure she even hears me at this point. She seems to be mulling over silent, secret thoughts to which I’m not privy.
“We should surface,” she says finally, glancing up at the night sky. “Your air tanks will need to be replenished and your men will need rest.”
“If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you, Princess,” I tell her quietly. “You’ll find when I’m not being painfully obtuse, I’m a good listener.”
A laugh bubbles out of her throat, and it’s incredibly pleasant to listen to. It’s tempting to stay under for as long as the suit allows, watching her and listening to her until my lungs burst. I’m beginning to understand why sailors throw themselves off the sides of ships for these women, these sirens of the deep. The last moments are worth the sacrifice.
“Thank you, Andric,” she says, but the emotion on her face is gone and now she’s all steel once more. “But let’s hurry to the surface. You’re going to expire at this rate.”
She wraps a long-fingered hand around my bicep and tugs me upward. We move quickly, with the strength of her tail propelling us. It’s no time at all before we crest the surface of the waves. The dome of my suit slides back automatically when exposed to open air, and I suck in a cool, relieved mouthful. After so long underwater, the taste of the air in my suit has grown stale.
Aria releases me and bobs in the water nearby, watching me with a smile on her face. There’s only a half-moon in the sky tonight, casting white-gold light down on us. The others begin to surface a mile off, bobbing like wine corks on the surface.
Aria opens her mouth, about to say something, but she never gets the opportunity. Because a shape appears just below her in the water, hulking and dark.
It seizes her by the tail and, before I can fully understand what’s happening, she’s yanked beneath the waves and lost to the inky darkness seconds later.
FOURTEEN
ARIA
My captor’s grip is so tight, it nearly splits my tailfin in two when I attempt to buck out of his grasp. Bubbles stream out of my mouth, the air required for speech spiraling up toward the rapidly receding surface. Breathing air isn’t necessary for my survival underwater, but it’s still uncomfortable when the sea fills my mouth and water tries to choke me.
Something sharp runs along my scales, sending prickles of panic up my spine. My entire body seizes in alarm and I redouble my efforts to free myself.
But it’s no good.
Arms wind around my tail and I know, with a feeling of intense panic, exactly who has me. I’ve never seen or felt arms so muscular on a man other than my father. And since the shape pressed into my side has one tip instead of three on his scepter, I know this isn’t Triton.
“Sen,” I hiss.
He smirks back at me, his broad, rough-hewn face made somehow cruder by the expression on it.
“Arianwen,” he croons, “we’re alone at last. Such a naughty girl, bringing so many others with her into her father’s territory. Triton will be very displeased.”
What displeases my father should really amount to fish toss to me, in the end. But my conversation with Andric earlier brought so many of the ugly, hidden feelings I’ve denied for so long to a painful head. Afterwards, I wasn’t sure I was ready for this mission. Could I truly drive a blade into the heart of the man who’d sired me?
But in this moment, at the realization that Sen means to drag me off to rape me with my father’s tacit permission, a layer of frost settles over my tender feelings. It will hurt when the time comes, but I can keep my emotion under a layer of ice until the deed is done. And the deed most definitely needs to be done.
I turn, launching a fist into Sen’s face the way I’ve seen humans do on land. The attack is so sudden and unexpected, it loosens his grip on me just long enough that I can squirm out of his grasp. When I dart away from him, one powerful downstroke of my tail hits him on the side of his face, hopefully dazing him for a few seconds. My knuckles sting and there’s definitely a tear in my tail somewhere, but I’m alive and unmolested.
For now.
I have to get away.
If Sen is here, that means more of my father’s soldiers are on their way, if they aren’t attacking my friends already. Sen’s the most dangerous of their number, so I have to keep him busy.
He’s after me in seconds, recovering his equilibrium with a curse. He’s strong and fast and the edged weapon in his hand looks absolutely lethal. A glance down at his tail reveals his glans painfully exposed.
“You traitorous bitch,” Sen snarls, all good humor gone. “When I catch you, I’m going to fuck you raw. Make you scream for days before I finally give you the mercy of death.”
I shudder. I’ll kill myself before I let him catch me. If my only choices a
re rape or death, I know which one I choose.
I dive, faster and with more precision than a man of his size can ever hope to achieve, aiming for a network of caves nearby. I don’t know these caves as well as some of the ones closest to the trench. My forays into the world above have been few and far between; it’s usually safer for others to emerge and forage for food if there’s a need. But I’ve found myself in enough scrapes to know where the handy hiding spots are. I’ve hidden in this particular network before, and from Sen, no less. My eyes are adjusted to the pitch darkness, his are not. The halls are narrow here, and there’s an exit near the back. I can keep him swimming in circles for several minutes and then slip out the narrow back entrance before he knows he’s been had.
It’s almost disorienting to enter the caves again after weeks of light and heat. Part of me hopes to escape the dark and cold for the rest of my days. Perhaps Opeia will be strong enough, after seizing power, that she can make my legs permanent? I could return to the sea in one of Andric’s boats? He surely has enough affection for me to grant me a boon. We may never love each other, but I think there’s enough affection between us to guarantee kindness.
And there’s always Hook, right? Perhaps we could work something out? Some type of agreement?
But even as I delve into the frigid blackness, waves pelt against me. There’s one complication that keeps me from deciding to live the rest of my days (if I have any left after this) on land, and it comes in the form of my oldest friend and ever-loyal protector.
Bastion.
The mute frustration and bouts of temper make sense now. Bastion has been in love with me for years, as he admitted. No wonder he’s been cold with me since we came here! First he dealt with my fascination with Hook and now Andric. I must be the most callous woman in all of Fantasia to have been blind to Bastion for so long. I’ll admit I’ve always found him to be the most attractive of the mermen, but...
