“Indeed. It sounds as if someone has caught his second wind.”
“Ready to release the jag then, Heracles?”
“Fuck yes. Let’s do this.”
Manu jerked his head up to stare at the rippling surface again. For the first time, he realized there was a large black bin beside Heracles on the bridge, right next to the commander’s left shin. “Wait, you’re—”
“You asked for a challenge worthy of a king, right?”
“I didn’t quite say that.”
Her stern face peered down at him as Heracles pried off the bin’s knee-high lid. Immediately, a dark tentacle struck out and curved over the side, the gleaming arm covered in suckers. The barbed stinger on the tip of it indented. “You thought it. I could feel it,” she said in singsong. “Now you can reap what you’ve sown.”
Jags were named for their surface counterparts, the devilishly hungry and voracious fish resistant to the domination of high mer and common mer alike. Only experts in the animal husbandry field kept the brutes as exotic pets. They were difficult to breed, far from hardy due to their dietary requirements, and all but impossible to escape. Evolution had a laugh when it designed the jag, an apex predator despite its body never growing larger than a dinner plate. A flexible bone structure and eight arms allowed it to mimic the cephalopods who dwelled in the deep abyss.
Elpis pulled herself onto the bridge and abandoned him in the water.
“Amerin won’t like this,” he called up to her, much to the pair’s amusement. Both laughed outright.
“Then, if you respect her work and all the progress she’s made in these gardens, you’ll harness the gift of Pontus, won’t you?” Heracles replied. “It’d be an absolute shame if she had to rebuild after all these years because you’re unwilling to expend the effort.”
“Unwilling to expend the effort?” Manu exploded, one second from bursting to the surface and wringing his friend’s neck. Easier said than done. His head was already throbbing, a fact he’d ignored before but become increasingly aware of, the pulse behind his eyes beating like a chisel against stone.
“The Manu I know would have uncovered this mystery by now,” El challenged him. “I’m not sure if becoming king has made you soft or—”
“Soft!” he barked. “Fuck both of you. I’ll do it. Are you going to at least give me a bloody weapon?”
“Can’t. You’re not allowed to harm him, I’m afraid.” Elpis reached into the bucket with a pair of long tongs then withdrew the beast with some small amount of struggle. Gills flared as its arms flailed and stretched toward her. Its body pulsed a multitude of colors, black as the void it originated from with spots of blue, green, then purple and other cool hues rising from the inky, smooth scales. “Belongs to Crixus’s little cousin. We borrowed it under the stipulation that his baby would be returned to him unharmed.”
“Then how in the world am I supposed to—”
“Ow!” Elpis tossed the creature pole and all into the water. One of its barbed arms had stung her.
By their very nature, mers were immune to almost all toxins and poisons created by the creatures of the sea. The jag were a dangerous exception, feared by Atlantians much like the wasps and hornets of the surface with their human counterparts. Unlike normal octopodes and lionfish, the jag possessed eight additional stingers on the tip of each powerful arm, weapons designed for debilitating large ocean-floor prey in the darkest voids. The potent mix could kill a human within as little as ten seconds of puncture.
A mer, on the other hand, would be in excruciating agony for hours. Manu had tangled with one once during a deep expedition to the bottom of the Puerto Rico Trench. The thing had pierced a weak point of his suit, and he’d spent hours in a state alternating between wishing he was dead to thinking he was dead. He didn’t worry much about El. She’d remove most of the toxin from her blood with magic.
If the thing weren’t flying toward the anemone bed like a starving rocket, Manu would have laughed at the way Elpis shook out her arm and danced in place, shrieking without dignity. Detecting minute movement from one escaped chuckle, the thing changed course then hurtled toward him. He rightfully gave it space, darting back and preparing for evasive maneuvers that wouldn’t be fast enough.
He tried anyway, wary of wrecking Amerin’s work, and equally reluctant to allow it to capture him. It took his flight as prey attempting an escape and gave chase, just as he knew it would.
“By the way, mate, I thought you should know Amerin planted that rare seedling in the gardens as well. I don’t believe the fae will take kindly to knowing you allowed a jag to destroy it.”
Amerin had planted the Vircilien seedling there too?
Panic flashed through his veins as he spun and searched for the delicate gift.
“What is wrong with you fools?! Why would you release that thing here?”
“Come on!” Heracles shouted from above, roaring with laughter. “Is the mighty King of Atlantis too much of a jellyfish to face down a jag? Do it for Amerin.”
“Do it for interkingdom relations!” Elpis finally called, appearing to be over the sting. “Don’t be a baby, Manu. Take it on!”
“Blow me,” Manu bit out, whirling toward the monster fish as it flattened like a parachute and aimed its body, mouth and all, towards his face while flying at him with the speed of a torpedo.
10
Justice Always Prevails
A healthy dose of guilt proved to be a fine motivator when it came to Kai receiving proper support from her uncle. Less than a week after their brunchtime reunion, Aegaeon came through for her by pulling off the impossible: he acquired a coveted meeting with the leader of the Loyalist party, even doing the heavy lifting for her when it came to arranging the time and location.
According to her uncle, it hadn’t been easy, the effort requiring maximum palm-greasing and calling in favors before the request ever reached Democrates. When she asked why he hadn’t started on it months ago when she initially asked, he insisted he had.
The mer had simply vanished from society and become absolutely unreachable. He had no message ID or points of contact. What had finally gotten through was Aegaeon putting out the informational equivalent of a hit by contacting a friend in the Keeper Corps who spent days driving his coral skipper up and down laborer neighborhoods tapping his informants wherever he could find them.
Kai couldn’t let all that hard work be in vain.
While counting down the minutes until her meeting with Democrates, Kai wasted time fretting over the assorted intel she’d gathered, as well as the notes she planned to refer to during the encounter. She knew the Loyalists’ demands and had pre-written counterarguments to each of their infeasible stipulations, with anecdotal evidence to support her decisions. Some, such as bridging the gap between laborer and nobility, weren’t impossible and would require compromise between all levels of citizenship.
The Loyalists built their party with the goal of abolishing both the monarchy and caste system as its core values. Had he asked months ago, she might have been eager to throw her weight behind his demands and relinquish her claim to the throne if it guaranteed the betterment of their underwater realm. What right did she have to rule over a civilization of millions with a role acquired by birth? Surely they could do fine without her.
Kai knew better now. They may not have wanted her as a ruler, but they certainly needed her aid. Recent events led her to believe no amount of Myrmidon training would be enough to halt the advance of the Gloom and that as the heir of Thalassa, it was a task only she alone could perform.
Otherwise, their enemy would have been defeated long ago during her absence while Aegaeon held the throne.
That didn’t mean she didn’t believe there weren’t ways to establish a people-oriented government.
“He’s here,” Amerin announced from the door. “He’ll be up in a moment after passing through the security checkpoints. Heracles insisted that the guards be as thorough as possible without actuall
y strip-searching him.”
Kai frowned. “Must they treat him like a criminal? I’m the one who asked him to visit me.”
Amerin’s face flushed pink. “Not a criminal, Kai. A potential threat. He’s a Loyalist, after all. None of them can be trusted when it comes to your safety, not while someone had the balls to send an assassin after you into a temple.”
“Amerin, that was one instance—”
“One instance too many. Heracles and I, as well as Manu, I imagine, would prefer if that remained the only attempt in history.”
“And we don’t know the Loyalists were behind it. Anyone could have directed that.”
“Anyone didn’t attack us in Jellyfish Gardens. They did.”
Before Kai could protest, Amerin reversed from the room, abruptly twirled in the chair, and rolled away.
Less than a split second later, Kai felt like an ass. If anyone had reason to distrust Loyalists, it was Amerin, who had lost the most to them. Loyalists had paralyzed her friend. Loyalists had beaten her within an inch of her life and cost her an unborn child. “Amerin, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”
The sound of wheels over carpeted floor faded, leaving Kai to sag into the chair behind the desk and wish she could arrange a do-over of the entire morning’s events.
I’m a queen. I should always be thinking.
While her stomach anxiously twisted itself into knots, footfalls approached in the corridor. Her green-haired visitor arrived first, a tall fellow with the enormous biceps expected of a laborer, both arms heavily scarred from battle or the rigors of work. Thin white lines crossed the fingers and backs of rugged hands.
Democrates was the very definition of a laborer. He had donned nothing fancy for the meeting, arriving in an inexpensive but clean sleeveless tunic belted above casual leggings of no particular brand. A leather belt studded with inch-long conch shell studs defined his waist, and he wore worn boots with scuffs and old, ragged buckles.
At that moment, Kai regretted that she hadn’t dressed down into something simpler. Her wealth and all those benefits that came with her title were not what interested Democrates, and ultimately, they did not matter. He wanted to see the true queen.
Or so she told herself. In actuality, she didn’t know what the man wanted or expected from her.
I only have to be myself. And if that’s not enough for him, he can get fucked.
With that in mind, Kai relaxed.
“Queen Kailani, your guest has arrived.”
Receiving an outside visitor in her personal study broke decorum and protocol, as it was typical for guests to gather in the conservatory or receiving parlor. Custom dictated they’d wait with empty plates and stoneware until royalty arrived, and then they’d stiffly stand by until the queen and her king bid them sit.
No more, Kai thought.
She had to show Democrates she was not above him.
“I truly appreciate that you were willing to meet with me today, Your Majesty, and it is my hope that justice can be served.”
He appreciated it? Kai had wanted to chat with the self-appointed leader of the laborer caste for so long she would have presumed him to be the royal figure. Still, a soft smile curved her mouth. “The feeling is mutual. Please, join me. We have much to discuss about the future of Atlantis and the demands of your party, do we not?”
“Very many, though I must say…” As his voice trailed, the mer glanced over a shoulder toward the silent guard standing watch, spine rigid and back against the wall adjacent to the open door. “I thought this was to be a private affair.”
“As did I. You’re dismissed, Nikos.”
“Your Majesty, begging your pardon, but—”
“I know what Heracles stated, and I am overruling him. I would like to speak in private.”
Her scepter leaned against the desk within reach. If she needed to use it, she wouldn’t hesitate to put Democrates down and hope that her critics didn’t believe it was politically motivated. Kai had everything to lose from meeting him in private and little to gain.
Except his trust.
Upsides and downsides to being royalty meant that the underwater world worked on her schedule and ultimately, at her command, whether or not that was to her detriment—a fact Kai both loved and loathed.
Nikos hesitated, apparently torn between obeying his superior officer or the queen. She didn’t envy him for the choice but took comfort in knowing Heracles couldn’t punish the mer for prioritizing her orders.
“I understand that you are following orders from your commander. You’ll have no choice but to report to him that I have overruled him in this instance and that my audience with Keerios Democrates requires no observers.” Keerios was as polite a title underwater as Mister was on the surface. “I am armed. He is not. There is nothing that you can do to protect me from that doorway that I can’t do for myself.”
“As you wish.” Nikos bowed to her, tipped his head to her visitor, as was expected, then retreated from the room. He even shut the door behind him.
“Contrary to whatever you must believe of me, I have nothing but the deepest respect for you, Queen Kailani,” Democrates said. “Thank you for that. We don’t know one another. You have absolutely no reason to trust me, and I have no reason to trust you, but fighting or attempting to harm you will damage Atlantis the most. This kingdom is my home. I would never do anything to jeopardize our survival.”
“Let’s not delay a moment longer then. Please, have a seat and tell me how we move forward from here.”
Palpable relief eased the mer’s tense features. “Our demands are outlined,” Democrates said, siding a tidy document across the desk to her. The sheet had been printed by a steady hand on seaweed parchment soft as silk. The professional appearance startled her as much as the meticulous attention to detail, each of their talking points followed by a detailed analysis of the benefits and drawbacks such decisions would inflict upon Atlantis.
Kai could appreciate their apparent competence.
First, of above all other requests, they wanted to abolish the monarchy. She’d expected that would be top of the list.
Next, they wanted an end to the caste system. Aegaeon and the Council of Lords would murder her if she gave in.
Then, they demanded fair wages for all of their labors and hard work, citing that Atlantis would be nothing without their carpenters and builders. All true. The average noble, with the exception of rare specimens of patriotism like Cosmas, knew nothing about even preparing their own meal, let alone building a structure with their own hands.
All that followed afterward appeared to be petty requests regarding matters she had no issue granting. Kai folded the letter and set it aside on the desk, assuming it was hers to keep. “No. I will not step down.”
“I didn’t imagine that you would. But as the leader of the party, serving my people by voicing the request was obligatory.”
“Then you don’t agree with dissolving the monarchy?”
“Far from it. There is no justice in removing a good queen from the throne. You’ve done more in weeks for us than Lord Aegaeon has given to Atlantis in years. Not to speak poorly of your uncle, Your Majesty, but the laborer caste has gone neglected long enough. Even put to a vote, there is no guarantee our people would do what is best for us all. You are beloved by most. I have studied human governments across the world. Atlantis is not yet ready to be without a queen. As long as the Gloom remains a threat, perhaps we never will be.”
“What of all that…” Trailing off, she searched for an appropriate word. “Insistence about votes and freedom and democracy then?”
“That I do believe in. As it stands, the prytaneion retains the greatest power over each of Atlantis’s cities, and in some communities, they hold all of the control. That must change. Our wellbeing must be prioritized until it is on the same level as merchants and nobility.”
“And priests?” Kai cocked one brow. “I notice they are absent from your criticism.”
&nbs
p; “Most are good and just people doing the work of the gods and goddesses. They have been our greatest supporters, while our nobles care only for their own profit. The scales of power are imbalanced. We don’t seek to be better than the nobility. We only want to be on their level. We want equality across the seas.”
Her attention wandered to times she’d witnessed men at the docks dragging in whale carcasses, their bodies drenched in sweat and covered in blood. The odor of whale oil practically infused their skin. She’d seen buildings repaired after the riot within days, new structures erected in mere weeks, and she knew the laborers who toiled and crafted for merchants were the backbone of Atlantis’s economy. “And that cannot happen for as long as Atlantis yields to a cruel system valuing birthright over effort and personal achievement. Then, I believe we are on the same page concerning many matters.”
Aegaeon would have a stroke, but it wasn’t his choice any longer. Before she could change her mind, she stretched out the parchment designated for royal decrees, plucked a pen from the desk, and she drafted a missive to be announced by Amerin and duplicated for print in the Atlantic Daily.
Years ago, her own mother had delayed progress by awaiting permission from the Council of Lords, a mistake Kai didn’t plan to repeat when they would only waste time or attempt talking her out of the decision.
“In the pursuit of full disclosure, I will only abandon this throne when there isn’t a breath of life in me. As for the caste system, its dissolution will become law tomorrow, with several other changes to our system.”
Genuine surprise dawned on the mer’s face, his mouth falling open for several seconds until he gathered his wits. “I… You have our thanks, I don’t know what to say, Your Majesty.”
“Anything but thanks will do. I don’t need gratitude for correcting an outdated system. For my own peace of mind, there is a matter we must discuss.”
Goddess of Sea and War: a Fantasy Romance (Kingdom in the Sea Book 3) Page 8
