The Girl Who Chose

by Violet Grace

  ‘Your Majesty, I counsel —’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Jules. I’m officially dead, remember? It’s not like an assassin’s going to be lurking in the hope of finishing me off again.’

  She relents. On her signal, we all slip under the guard rope and walk towards one of the enormous pillars.

  ‘Attenzione!’ I hear the security attendant say behind us. But before he can catch us, Abby, in full view of everyone as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, carves a portal in the pillar and steps through into Iridesca. I chase her, with Jules and Tom following behind. I look back past Jules and Tom to the guard, who’s circling the pillar looking bewildered.

  Victor stands at the altar, delivering a speech. It’s an award-winning performance.

  ‘It is with heavy hearts that we gather in memory of my beloved Francesca of House Raven, Queen of the Fae of Albion, last in her line,’ he says. ‘Though cruelly taken from me – from us – before the full season, I feel blessed for the time we shared, for the love that grew between us and the promises we made.’

  He places his hand on his heart and looks wistfully out at the audience, who, sickeningly, seem to be hanging on every word.

  ‘The last thing she did before she was annihilated by the griffins –’

  ‘How convenient,’ I whisper to Tom. ‘Explains why there’s no body.’

  ‘– was beg me to care for her subjects,’ Victor continues. ‘“Rule over the people of Albion as if they are your own,” she said to me with the last laboured breath of her too-short life.’ He pauses, building the dramatic tension. ‘And it will be my privilege and honour to fulfil this obligation to her.’

  ‘He’s good. He’s really good,’ Abby says, almost admiringly. ‘There’s barely a dry eye in the place.’

  I scan the ceiling, looking for a clue. I spy a mosaic of Mary on the domed ceiling high above on the other side of the Basilica. Victor returns to his seat and a fairy dressed in a flowing black gown stands behind a golden harp. She plucks a single note and pauses. A gentle rumbling of footsteps courses through the building and a choir appears on the balconies on either side of the Basilica. All eyes look up towards them as the harpist plays and the choir begins to sing.

  Capitalising on the distraction, I take my chance and creep over to the section of the church under the mosaic of Mary. Baby Jesus is sitting on her knee.

  From my position under the mosaic, I’m bathed in reflected golden light. Excitement rises in me and I have to tell myself that it could just be a coincidence. But the energy from the Veritas seeping into my body, filling me with a sense of love and power, tells me that I’m onto something.

  Tom, Jules and Abby stay back, hidden behind pillars, covering me and ready to warn of danger. I take another step so that I’m standing directly under the mosaic when I feel something click beneath my foot.

  Tom and Jules move towards me in alarm.

  ‘What was that?’ Tom whispers.

  ‘I think … I triggered something.’

  I glance around to check if we’ve been noticed. The congregants are still transfixed by the choir and the harpist.

  ‘The Veritas,’ I say, looking down at the book in my hands. ‘Something’s happening.’

  It’s trembling, agitating to be released. I hold my breath and then slowly, carefully, lift my foot. The mosaic tile I had stepped on slides into the floor, making a harsh scraping sound of stone on stone as it disappears from view.

  No, no, no, no, I think, willing the stone to come back. But it’s too late.

  A moment later, water burbles up from the hole, leaving an expanding puddle on the floor. San Marco has sprung a leak.

  The whole floor groans to life. Small plumes of dust explode, like steam suddenly released from years of pressure. The music dies quickly, the harpist stops playing and the choir voices peter out.

  ‘Queen Francesca?’ Somewhere at the back, someone says my name. I hear alarmed voices and shuffling feet. Someone just fainted, would be my guess. Every pair of eyes turns to me.

  The congregation is stunned, frozen, as if everyone has drawn a collective breath and is holding it. Some are looking at me like I have descended from heaven. Others as if I have crawled my way out of the pit of hell.

  The Chancellor is the first to break the silence.

  ‘Your Majesty!’ He steps through the crowd. ‘You live. Praise the Goddess.’ Real tears fall from his eyes.

  Victor shoves the Chancellor out of the way and strides towards me, veins pulsing in his neck.

  Jules body-blocks him, sparks flashing across her knuckledusters. ‘You will stay back, Your Highness.’ Her tone makes me want to give her a high five.

  ‘You … you’re alive,’ he stammers. ‘But how?’

  Hardly the response of a grieving husband.

  Jules raises her arm and issues a series of hand signals. Moments later, over a hundred Protectorate guards thunder in. But my eyes are on the floor. Whole rows of tiles are beginning to move, grinding against one another like teeth in the cogs of some ancient machine.

  The Basilica bursts into panic and screams as the congregation stumble back from the edges of the fast-disappearing floor.

  I step back too, my heart thudding as lines of tiles lower around me, disappearing into the depths of the Basilica.

  Other tiles in the church turn and click mechanically, flipping over and shuffling under one another, folding away in an intricate symphony of predetermined movements. Whole sections of floor sink beneath water that’s now washing freely between the sections of the floor that remain intact. Pews, not all of them empty, topple into the water. A few Fae reach down to save the fallen, but most of them are rushing for the exits, others transferring to safety. Grigio guards form a wall around Eleonora and Salvatore and shepherd them to the exit, slamming panicked Fae into the pillars and into the water to clear their path. Eleonora looks back at me accusingly from her passing wheelchair as if I did all this, as if it were my will and my magic that carved deep, watery canals through the Basilica.

  I peer into Volgaris and see the panic mirrored there, as tourists rush to safety amidst shouts about earthquakes.

  By the time the floor stops moving, I’m left stranded on a small island of marble, surrounded by a deep pit of water. Tom, Abby and Jules are on the other side of the ravine. My Protectorate guards have remained in the church. So has Victor and most of the Grigio guards. I’m shocked when I see that the Chancellor and Luminaress have also remained. I would have expected they’d be the first to save their own skins.

  The water surrounding me begins to swirl and slosh violently, splashing up onto the floor. Seconds later I see a flash of tail the colours of wildflowers. Melusina’s silky black locks break the surface of the water. Rena’s head rises to the surface next, followed by another mermaid, and then more. A small armada of them appears in the canals all around the church.

  Rena hisses and snarls at the terrified people in the water and those who have remained in the church, baring her razor-sharp teeth.

  Melusina glances at them without interest, then plants her eyes on me. ‘You have done well, halfling.’

  ‘Not me,’ I say, tightening my grip on the Veritas, which is still shuddering. ‘I think it was her.’ I nod in the direction of the mosaic of Mary.

  Melusina rises up on her tail beside me, staring up at Mary. The mermaid queen’s face is a portrait of awe, excitement and hope. ‘The font of feminine power.’

  I loosen my grip on the writhing manuscript, permitting it to move freely within my palms. The book springs open and Melusina takes one side of it while I hold tight to the other. The pages of parchment flip all on their own, stopping on a page of text. The unreadable words are separated by illustrations of naked women bathing in water.

  The letters momentarily lift from the ancient parchment before settling back on the page. As they do, I see a transformation. Not in the words, but in Melusina. Her skin is brighter, her eyes clearer as she stares at
the jumbled letters. The words are gifting her with spirit, meaning and knowledge.

  ‘You can read it now?’ I say.

  ‘I can, halfling.’

  Goosebumps prickle up my arms. ‘Is it the song that will free my mother?’

  ‘Patience, halfling.’ Melusina flashes her canines at me. I think it’s a smile.

  ‘What have you done?’ I hear Victor bellow behind me. ‘You impetuous, ridiculous child. You are playing with forces you have no hope of understanding.’

  He looks at me with such unadulterated hatred that I feel my blood turn to ice.

  ‘You didn’t actually want me to find it, did you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Victor says, as if I’m a fool.

  ‘Then why did you help me?’

  ‘Because if the legend of the scroll was actually real I did not imagine you would succeed in uncovering it,’ he replies with a sneer. ‘I will not share my power with bottom feeders.’

  Rena and her sisters flash their teeth at him.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that.’ There’s a glint in Melusina’s eye, and she begins to smile. Something about it makes me uneasy. ‘There will be no sharing of power.’

  She opens her mouth and lets out a high-pitched note, then a banshee wail. Following her lead, the other mermaids join in, a choir of voices, frequencies crisscrossing, creating a wall of formidable sound. The mermaid song reverberates off the water and the ancient building.

  I cover my ears with my hands, and watch Tom, Jules, Abby and all the remaining congregants do the same, their faces contorted. Victor falls to his knees, the colour draining from his face.

  ‘Stop!’ I yell, but my plea is swallowed by the sound of the mermaids.

  The mermaids turn in the water, surrounding me, directing the full force of their choir onto me. The water surrounding me ripples and vibrates. I press my hands more tightly to my ears, trying to block it out.

  My knees buckle and I crash to the cold marble, soundwaves pulsing through me, ripping me to shreds.

  Molecule by molecule, I’m being torn apart. Every fibre of my being is vibrating.

  Compared with the mermaids’ song, the Agency’s weapon was a mere tickle, a mild inconvenience.

  ‘Chess, Chess, get out of here!’ I can barely make out Tom’s voice above the singing, beyond the pain. ‘Fly. Use your wings.’

  I open my eyes to a squint, trying to see him. But the pressure of the sound on my eyes is too much. I’m paralysed by the agony and my heart aches from my failure.

  I’ve let him down. I’ve let them all down.

  No one will save my mother now. I will never see her again. Or my father. House Raven will be destroyed.

  I am empty as I sink into the void where I exist beyond pain, beyond physical sensation.

  I should have listened.

  Jules.

  Abby.

  The Luminaress.

  Even Victor. He may despise me, but at least he told me the truth about mermaids. Or tried to. They all tried to tell me. But I didn’t listen. The mermaids preyed on me, used me to find their scroll. I was blinded by the possibility – the remote possibility – that their power could free my mother. How could I have been so stupid, so gullible? They knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it. And I fell for it.

  The mermaid aria is reaching a crescendo. The frequencies are aligning, the sounds merging, pulling me back to full, awful consciousness as the harmonies set off fresh waves of agony that sear through me. My body ripples with explosions of pain. My blood burns.

  It won’t last, I think.

  Finish me, I pray.

  The Basilica is rumbling. Dust and crumbs of stone fall down onto me.

  And then the pain stops.

  Just like that. It’s gone.

  Warmth floods through my body. I’m still vibrating, but not with pain. It starts with peace, a gentle quiet within me, and then, wave by wave, the feeling builds to ecstasy and light.

  Melusina’s voice comes to me, speaking clearly through the wall of sound.

  ‘Become whole again, halfling. You are reborn.’

  The mermaids’ song is not killing me. It’s saving me. Reigniting the Art within, reconstituting me, one chromium molecule at a time, settling, realigning. Coming home.

  The Art gathers force, coursing through my veins. It’s like a sudden injection of energy.

  My eyes spring open.

  I look up. Golden light shines into the Basilica. It’s so beautiful; the colours are richer, more luminous. The aromas of ancient incense absorbed by the walls fill my nostrils. My skin tingles, registering every eddy and micro-current of the air.

  I’m back.

  I’m alive. No, this is better than alive. This is alive, version 2.0.

  The mermaids’ song is within me. Their stories, their struggles and triumphs are melded with my being.

  The singing stops. Sounds echo and reverberate around the ancient chambers and then die out. The silence is deafening.

  I get to my feet, all of my senses singing.

  Melusina and her sisters look up at me from the canals.

  ‘I thought you’d … Thank you.’

  ‘You doubted us, halfling,’ Melusina says, a knowing smile in her eyes. ‘We knew what had been taken from you. And it was ours to put right. Know this, too, of our sisterhood: a bargain struck is a bargain honoured.’

  I look around the church. Tom, Jules and Abby are on their feet, still orienting themselves. So is Victor. The guards and the few remaining congregants are slower to rise, still recovering from the mermaids’ song.

  ‘You dare to overturn the natural order? You will pay for this treachery.’

  It’s Victor, shrieking as he stalks towards me and the mermaids. Grigio guards move in formation, readying for an attack, some around Victor, others facing off with my Protectorate.

  Jules and Tom step towards Victor as he approaches, but I motion for them to hold back.

  I turn to Victor. ‘You said the mermaids posed no threat to House Grigio.’

  ‘If the natural order is maintained!’ he spits at me. ‘I should have realised. You – all of you –’ he gestures to the mermaids ‘– are abominations.’

  Mid-stride, he transes to unicorn, his sleek brown body covered with plates of battle armour. His huge wings flare from his wither before pounding the air, launching him up towards the domed ceiling.

  Roberto and three other guards follow Victor’s lead, transing and taking to the air. Their giant equine forms are also covered in heavy battle armour.

  My stomach knots as I scan the church and realise just how badly the Protectorate is outnumbered against Grigio guards. My guess is three to one. I spot the Chancellor and a few other members of my court crouching behind upturned pews, slinking further from view, and conclude that I won’t be able to rely on them for anything. The only way to win this battle is to make sure it doesn’t start.

  ‘Don’t engage the Protectorate unless you absolutely have to,’ I instruct Jules.

  From the look on her face I can tell she’s come to the same conclusion. If this turns into a full-on brawl it’ll be a bloodbath.

  Victor and his guards fly towards the entrance to the Basilica, circling back to face us, their horns sparking.

  My wings flare and I spring into the air, still hoping that I can talk some sense into Victor.

  Tom transes and joins me. Jules orders her team to hold their positions.

  More Grigio guards trans to unicorn but remain where they are, also awaiting orders. The mermaids jostle in the water below, preparing for an assault.

  ‘Don’t do this, Victor. Enough blood has been shed.’

  ‘Not. Yet.’

  He and the four unicorns flanking him unleash deadly blazes from their horns.

  Tom blasts out a protective shield that wraps around us both as I hesitate, struggling with the idea of killing Victor.

  But we’re not the targets.

  The blazes of five unico
rns fuse into a viper of fire, slithering through the air and then, at the last moment, diving down to deliver its bite of death.

  Melusina.

  Two puncture wounds smoulder on her neck.

  ‘No!’ I scream. Melusina’s body convulses before slumping back into the water.

  Abby sprints towards her, flying over one of the watery ravines, her hand on the apothecary charm hanging around her neck.

  The Art explodes through me, stronger and more potent than I have ever known before. I go to swoop down towards Melusina but Victor and his unicorns train their powers on me. I dodge the barrage of shots, throwing out bolts of blue energy to deflect them. Tom returns fire from the air, and Jules from the ground.

  Victor darts away, letting his guards take the full brunt of our attack. The three of us target the guards, but their heavy armour deflects the first round.

  Tom and I break away in opposite directions, flying around the giant pillars holding up the domed ceiling. Angling from either side, we fire in unison at Roberto and his henchmen. Our blasts merge together over Roberto’s amour, uniting, amplifying. There’s a sickening sizzling sound, a smell of barbecue, as both Roberto and another of the unicorns flail in the air and then plummet down into the water.

  Sound fills the church, distracting Victor and everyone else. The mermaids’ song. I look down to see a choir of mermaids, directing their song toward Victor’s remaining two guards in the air.

  It’s only then that I truly understand its power. Victor’s guards aren’t so much struck by the sound as spellbound. They stop their attack on us, writhe in the air, rearing up on their front legs. Fighting some irresistible force, they begin to glide down towards the mermaids.

  ‘Hold your positions! That’s an order!’ Victor’s low growl echoes throughout the Basilica.

  One unicorn beats his wings and twists his body around again but he cannot fight the lure of the mermaids. The other’s head rears up, his ears plastered back and his teeth gnashing, eyes bulging with terror. He manages to direct a bolt of energy from his horn in the direction of the mermaids, but their sonic waves effortlessly deflect it, sending it smashing into one of the huge pillars, loosening stone and marble that crashes to the floor below. Both guards continue their descent towards the mermaids singing in the internal canal below.