by Plum Pascal
I become aware of a throbbing ache in my side. When I glance down, I find a neat semicircle of my flesh just gone, the edges blackened like a braised steak. It hurts less than I think it ought to, but every few breaths or so, the pain snakes a tendril up my side and reminds me I am, in fact, injured.
“Thank you,” I murmur, still panting. “That was... something.”
Her breathing comes quicker. “I felt it too, just so you know. It was a... meeting of the minds, so to speak.”
“A meeting of the minds?”
She nods. “I felt you just as fully as you felt me.”
“Any possibility of an encore?” I ask, only half-teasing. If being inside her was that incredible in my head...
Her grin is positively impish for a moment. “Someday soon, I hope.” She pauses, and her expression drops slightly. “If we are victorious against my father.”
It’s a sobering reminder that there’s still a mission to complete and a tyrant to depose. But there’s a possibility of someday waiting for me if we win.
“Good enough for me.”
SIXTEEN
ARIA
“Gods, grant me patience,” I mutter as I swim away from our gathered forces.
The rest of Sen’s guard had been dealt with by Bastion, Hook, and the others, while Andric and I handled the threat of the general, himself. Though we were successful in fending off this attack, I’m wary of such a small defeat overly bolstering our bravado.
We’ve been given at least a few days reprieve, and we’ve used the time to strengthen our numbers, camping outside the trenches for a day and a half while the humans rest and the remainder of us arm ourselves for the coming war.
With what’s looming on the horizon, one would think men could let go of trivial things, like their dislike for one another and their petty differences. Apparently not.
Bastion scented Andric’s release the moment we returned to the surface and hasn’t spoken to me since. His cold silence allowed Hook to very quickly deduce what had happened as well, and Hook started a silent protest too. The only friendly conversation I’ve had, besides Kassidy, is with Andric, who serves as a reminder of why the other two men in my life are presenting me with a glacial silence.
“Men,” I grumble.
“I hear you.” Kassidy’s voice comes out slightly muffled due to the glass dome on her head, but she doesn’t seem to have difficulty keeping pace with me as we swim away from our encampment. “And they say we’re moody.”
She and her bears seem to need less rest than most the others, and so have been assigned to guard me, since Bastion can’t be bothered to do it himself at the moment. At this point, I’m not sure if he’s more liable to strike me or just fuck me into a coral bed. I’d take either, at this point. At least it would be a change from the stoicism on his face and the constant silence of his tongue.
“I resent that remark,” Nash cuts in, the potency of his growling voice lost behind the layer of glass that covers his head.
Kassidy rolls her eyes as she looks over at him with an affectionate smile. “Seriously, Nash? I’m not sure whether you’re the worst offender or if Sorren takes the prize.”
“Wow.” Nash covers his heart, as if she’s offended him deeply.
She laughs, shaking her head. “I love all of you, but dealing with your moods can be exhausting at times.”
“Our moods?” he continues.
“Yes.” She nods. “Your moods were the worst in the beginning, owing to your jealousy, I guess.” Then she sighs, fogging up the glass of her helmet. “But I think Aria may have it even worse. At least you three had blood in common and were willing to share me. The men vying for her attention are nothing more than greedy bastards!”
“No, it’s just Bastion who’s that way,” I sigh.
Kassidy considers me for a second before making a shooing gesture at the three bears trailing us less than gracefully in their suits.
“The three of you can go now,” she says.
“We are not leaving you,” Leith says stubbornly. “Either of you.”
“Agreed,” Sorren seconds with a nod.
Kassidy’s huff of frustration is audible even from a distance. “I need to talk to Aria about girl stuff…” Her face twists momentarily in horror, and the words come out layered in the same sort of tone one might use to say, ‘I need to talk to Aria about a reeking pile of shit.’ But then she collects herself and continues, “And that doesn’t include three very masculine and headstrong and nosy bears!”
Leith’s laugh is a warm, touchable sound and his face lights up with a grin so utterly charming, it could part a mortal woman’s legs in an instant. “I don’t think there’s anyone less suited to giving feminine advice than you, Goldilocks,” he says, eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Oh, fuck you, Leith.”
“Soon,” he says, his tone making it a sensual promise. “But only after we’ve saved the world once again, shall we?”
Despite her irritation with the three of them, Kassidy shivers and her eyes glaze over for just a moment, focused on some erotic scenario he’s painted for her. I’ve never been more envious of her and her situation. Eventually, she makes another impatient shooing motion.
“Go, you brutes, before I come over there and kick every single one of your furry asses!”
They begin to retreat, but not before Nash jabs a finger at her in warning. “Stay in sight, reprobate. I’m not fucking losing you to a shark.”
“Not enough meat for a shark to bother,” I say, looking Kassidy over with a smirk.
She spears me with a glare next, then turns the withering stare on each of her laughing men in turn. “Fuck all of you,” she mutters.
Then she seizes my hand and tugs me away from the men. She doesn’t stop moving for another five minutes, until we’re floating lazily near the base of a rock formation half a mile from the trenches. She looks intensely uncomfortable for a second, as if she’s not used to this sort of thing. And knowing that she’s spent her life as a thief and a ‘reprobate,’ as Nash calls her, I imagine such is exactly the case.
“So... Bastion?” she starts awkwardly. “He’s the problem?”
I shake my head, nervously smoothing my hands down the planes of my stomach. In all honesty, I’m little better at this sort of communication. For years, I’ve had no one but Aunt Opeia to confide in. It’s not the same as having a female friend to swap secrets with—if that’s even what Kassidy and I can be classified as. I suppose she’s the closest I’m going to get to an unbiased observer.
Hopefully, someday, I can count her as a friend. I wonder if she considers me the same?
“No,” I admit with a sigh. “All three of them present problems. Hook’s willing to share with Bastion and even Andric, so long as I don’t marry the prince.”
Kassidy gives me an expectant look, as if she doesn’t understand why Hook wouldn’t want me to marry Prince Andric and is waiting me to explain, but I shake my head.
“It’s... really not my story to tell. But I understand why Hook’s reluctant. Andric understands this marriage between us would be political and he knows he’ll have to share me with at least one merman so I can have children to inherit my throne. Bastion understands we need the alliance with Delorood and knows I’ll probably have to invite Andric into my bed at some point to solidify the pact.”
Kassidy screws her face up in concentration. “So, if I’m getting this right... Bastion approves of Andric but not Hook. Hook approves of both your other admirers, but for some reason doesn’t want you to marry, and Andric is the only unselfish one of the lot?”
I knuckle my eyes, trying to scrub the fatigue from them. Kassidy is right. These men really are exhausting.
“I suppose I’m the selfish one,” I mutter.
“How do you figure?”
I shrug. “I care for all of them and I want all of them, but it’s not my place to feel the way I do. I should do right by at least one of them and allow the others to be f
ree to find themselves women who might make them happy.”
“Which man would you pick for yourself then?”
I shrug again. I’ve asked myself this question repeatedly and still haven’t come up with an answer. “I need Andric to unite our two kingdoms. He’s the most important connection. Bastion is my oldest and dearest friend and I love him deeply. And I know him the best, of course… I think we could be happy together.” I grow quiet as my mind turns to thoughts of Hook. “And Hook… if I have to let someone go, he’s the logical choice, I suppose.”
Kassidy shakes her head. “But he’s a fucking gorgeous pirate with a dark past and a roguish smile—and he’s a good man, beneath that rough exterior.”
“I know,” I reply dreamily.
“And you’re absolutely in love with him?” Kassidy guesses with a wicked grin.
“Yes, I am,” I admit, frowning. It would be so much simpler if my heart didn’t get involved in these sorts of things. If marriage and sex were simply unemotional.
“So, what’s the problem?” Kassidy asks.
“It’s selfish to ask Hook to stay,” I mumble. “He has rules about being with married women. And if I marry Andric, I’m asking Hook to compromise his morals for me. I’m not worth that.”
Kassidy jabs a finger at me, her face contorted into an expression of anger. She’s quite frightening, actually.
“What is it with you gorgeous, come-hither types?” she demands, shaking her head. “’Cause, I swear, you sound just like Neva.”
“Who?”
“Neva. One of the other Chosen Ten. I met her recently and I guess she’s become… a friend of mine. Anyway, it’s really fucking annoying when the average girl on the street has to compare herself to women like you and Neva. Never mind the fact that you have to go and throw your own humility into the mix!”
I have no idea what she’s going on about but she seems insistent, so I just let her continue.
“You don’t get to choose whether or not you’re worth it, Princess!”
“I don’t?”
“No! That’s up to Hook and it’s up to Bastion and it’s up to Andric.”
“Oh.”
“I’m a thief, so take it from me, Aria: Worth is in the eye of the beholder. Trust me when I say that those men think a great deal of you, and they obviously think you’re worth it. So, you tell them what you want and what it takes to be with you. And if they can’t handle that, then fuck them. Or don’t. Up to you.”
She makes it sound so simple, as if it’s just about asking and getting what I want. But I know better—maybe it was easy with her bears, but the three men in my life aren’t the same.
I scrub my face once more.
“Now isn’t the time to be sorting out the particulars of my tangled love life,” I say finally. “Now’s the time for decisive action.”
“Well, that’s true,” Kassidy agrees with a clipped nod.
The more I think about it, the more I decide I’ll shelve all this romantic angst and focus instead on the blossoming battle ahead of us. That’s where my thoughts should be, at any rate. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll sleep at the edge of the camp with you and your men, so I don’t antagonize Hook, Andric, and Bastion further. And in the morning, we’ll—”
A scream cuts the air and I go silent mid-babble, whipping around to find the source of the sound. It’s coming from our camp, but I’m too far away to be able to tell exactly who or what made it.
I’m off like a loosed arrow, churning the water furiously in an attempt to reach camp faster. If any of my men have been hurt because I’ve been sulking on the periphery, I’ll never forgive myself.
When I arrive, I’m dumbfounded and don’t even know in which direction to look.
Chaos reigns.
Our provisions are scattered, people fleeing in every direction. And at first, it’s difficult to tell who’s who in the writhing mass of shapes that converges on the camp. We’re being attacked by creatures I don’t recognize. They’re long, almost serpentine, but lack scales. At first, I judge the mass to be some sort of miniaturized and misshapen kraken, but that’s not it. Whatever the shadow figures are, they’re loose, moving freely of one another. It isn’t until I see one of their dorsal fins light up with sullen red-orange light that I’m able to realize what they are.
Eels.
But like no eels I’ve ever seen before. Most species tend to be six feet in length, maximum. Even the truly massive ones that swim in the grotesquerie only reach a length of about ten feet. Somehow, each individual eel in this throng is easily two times longer than the largest eel I’ve ever seen, some with a length three times that! They drive forward, faster than my eye can track, and I watch in horror as one descends on one of Opeia’s men, wrapping its muscular length around the man twice before squeezing tight.
The man’s eyes bulge and he thrashes wildly, trying to escape the creature’s grip. But instead of going for his throat as I expect, the eel’s fins begin to glow fire-red once more. The man lets out an otherworldly shriek, struggling in vain as enormous blisters begin to form anywhere the eel touches him. I can feel the heat emanating from my position a half-mile away. The water is beginning to ripple, threatening to boil as the eels continue to descend on my people.
The blisters spread like a pox, quickly enveloping the soldier’s entire body in angry red boils. His eyes—already fixed wide in fear and staring at me, pleading for some sort of rescue—begin to seep out of their sockets, liquefied by the extreme temperature.
I can only stare in horror, perched on the periphery like useless flotsam.
What are these things? What in the name of Avernus can I do to stop them? I can barely stand the temperature from where I float limply. I’m forced to stand by, watching, as the black shapes converge on our fighting force and decimate it. I see ten of our men at arms fall within the first minute of the attack, some burned to death by the eels directly and others bursting out of their suits like soup from a bag, the heat swiftly liquefying them inside the contraptions.
I have to do something.
But what? What the fuck can I do to these things? I’ve never seen them before. My tail feels like limp seaweed, my arms useless hunks of coral at my side. All my training flies out of my head and I’m just left with... terror. Pure, unfettered terror. For myself, for my human friends, and for my men.
Gods, my men.
Where are they? I know Hook and Andric don’t need the suits, so maybe they’ve been swift enough to escape the killing field. But Bastion? Is he one of the charred skeletons that litter the rim of the trench? Were my last words to him cruel? Has he died without knowing how much I truly care for him?
The eels’ frenzy seems to be winding down and they scatter, finally putting feet of space between their bodies so I can truly appreciate how massive they are. On average, they’re twenty feet long, with the biggest of the bunch topping out closer to fifty.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
One of the big ones turns its great slimy head in my direction, as if I’ve called to it personally. One luminous yellow eye bores into me, its animal gaze brimming with malice. It hares away from the group, crossing ten yards in mere seconds. I’m not going to move out of the way in time. It’s going to get those muscled coils around me and that will be the ignoble end of Princess Arianwen, exiled daughter of Triton.
She died while acting the part of a useless stump, too frightened to aid her friends.
I’m so scared, I can’t even think, can’t act. Instead, I just remain in place, staring at the hideous thing as it approaches me. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the pain.
And then, strong arms wind around my waist, yanking me backward then up, and up, and up, toward the surface.
I crane my neck to see who has me, my heart leaping into my mouth when I see Bastion’s familiar, hauntingly beautiful profile. I try to croak his name, but I think it comes out as more of a song.
He’s alive! Oh, thank the Gods, he’s
still alive!
He tucks me in tight to his body.
“Hold on tight, Princess,” he warns me. “This is going to get rough.”
SEVENTEEN
BASTION
My heart thunders, battering my ribcage with sledgehammer blows. I know what I need to do to stop its panicked racing: I need to be still and breathe. But there’s no time for that. No time for anything but escape.
Aria’s upper body goes limp in my arms the second she realizes I have her, and I’m grateful. She’s stronger than her lithe form would suggest, and it helps that she doesn’t fight me as I attempt to rescue us both. I can’t deal with that and guide us to safety.
I get a surer grip on her, sliding one hand to brace beneath her breasts so I don’t impede her movement. She begins moving her tail in time with my own, propelling us through the water double time. We’re outdistancing most of the survivors.
Gods, survivors.
I knew going into this battle that we’d have casualties. In a coup like the one Opeia suggested, such is inevitable. But our soldiers weren’t supposed to die like this, swarmed and torn apart like they’d been set upon by a shoal of piranhas. Where’s the dignity in a death like that? It’s senseless, tragic violence. Worse still, I have no fucking idea where these eels came from or how they’ve come to adopt such a monstrous form, and I’d thought I’d seen everything fighting for the grotesquerie.
Clearly, I was wrong. Unimaginably so.
“Stay with me!” I call over my shoulder to the others attempting to flee the death promised by the gargantuan eels below. “Link arms and hold on when you catch up!”
I see only six of our number still living, besides the princess and I. Kassidy and her three bears, Andric—now suitless and far more mobile, thanks to Aria’s mate mark—and Hook, trailing behind. As I watch, he takes a swing at the nearest eel, sinking the tip of his hooked hand in deep, parting the eel’s head from the rest of its body in one savage yank. As much as I hate the bastard, I’ll admit he’s not completely useless.
