Sarai gasped and threw herself into a deep curtsy. “Your Highness!”
The queen smiled at her, inclining her head lightly. “Now, Marla, I was coming to check on the furnishings, and I overheard your conversation. I’m curious. What’s this about mermaids? You know they’re my favorite legend.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Your Highness, only some superstition from one of the townsfolk. I don’t even know how she got in.” Marla curtseyed, glaring at Gretchen and Carlotta surreptitiously, not even deigning to look at Sarai. Gretchen cowered. Carlotta edged toward the wall until she was half hidden behind a tapestry.
“Nonsense. I have a moment between my meetings, and I could use something to take my mind off the delegation from Allman due to arrive tomorrow. Send them in, please.”
Marla’s face went through a series of barely visible expressions. “Your Highness, I really don’t think wild talk is worthy of your royal notice.”
The queen’s brow furrowed. “I believe I will be the one to decide what is below my notice, Marla,” she said sharply. “This is the girl with the tale?” She glanced to Sarai, who blushed and nodded, still holding the curtsey. “Come.” She gestured to Sarai and glided through the open door.
“Go on,” said Gretchen. “She won’t hurt you; she’s very nice.”
“She’s the queen!” hissed Sarai, staring after her.
“And you’re keeping her waiting,” Marla muttered, venom in her voice, and Sarai gasped and hurried after the queen.
The room Sarai followed the queen to was cozy and gorgeous—a large window covered with glass and gauzy drapes open with a view of the ocean, and a thick, richly colored rug beneath velvet upholstered chairs. The queen sat in one, her gown arranged perfectly around her, and Sarai stopped and curtseyed again a dozen feet away.
“You’re from the town, aren’t you? A relative of one of my maids?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Sarai, locking her hands behind her back. “Gretchen Thomas, Your Highness. I’m her cousin.”
“She’s served me well. And you have some information you were trying to pass to the palace staff?”
Sarai nodded.
“Well. You have my attention now. What is this story you were so eager to tell?”
Sarai cleared her throat. “Do you remember the massive wave we had all those years ago?” She shook her head. “No, of course you do. I’m sorry, I know it caused damage in your land as well. I’ve gotten a message from the mermaids who live in the bay—they think there’s another one coming.”
The queen leaned forward, eyes intent on Sarai. “You spoke to one?”
“You believe me? I mean, yes, yes, I did. I visited their home. But the wave—”
“They can speak our language?”
“Some of them, from our books lost in shipwrecks, and from eavesdropping with their magic, but Your Highness—”
The queen leaned back in her chair and stared out her window at the ocean below. “I saw one once.”
Sarai froze. “You did?”
“On the journey here from my home. She swam alongside the ship.” Her voice was dreamy, remembering. “She waved to me, then disappeared.” She smoothed her hand over her skirts. “She had the most peculiar blue hair.”
“Your Highness, they track the waves across the world, and there’s a big one coming. Today.”
The Queen’s nostalgic expression snapped to alertness. “Today?”
Sarai looked out the window. “In just over an hour, they say. Please, Your Highness, we need to prepare the city.”
The queen frowned. “And how could they know that?”
“They’ve studied the waves,” said Sarai. “And they can speak to others of their kind far away across the ocean.”
“You believe them.”
Sarai hesitated. The queen had a complicated legend in the kingdom: a foreigner, a bringer of change, someone like no queen they’d had before. But she’d also gained a reputation as a trustworthy monarch, one who kept her promises and meted out justice fairly. “I trust Ydri,” said Sarai. “She wouldn’t lie to me. She wouldn’t risk everything she did to tell me, otherwise.”
“Well then.” The Queen stood. “We have work to do.” She went to the door. “Marla? Fetch me the head of the town guard, if you will.”
WITH SARAI’S LUCK, she ended up in one of the last groups pressed into the castle, squashed in a massive crowd, all sweaty from the hot day and their frantic hour of work building levees with sandbags around the town. The stink was oppressive, as was the surly mood of the crowd.
“What new magic have they got up there in the tower that makes them think there’s a wave coming?” snarled a man to her left.
“I figure it’s the queen,” said another. “She’s got some kind of witchy way about her.”
“I heard a soothsayer who lives by the ocean told them,” said a third.
“Bet it’s someone trying to rob us all while we’re trapped in here,” another interjected. “I shoulda brought the silver with me.”
“It was a girl,” said a man to her right. “My Callie saw her try to get the guards to evacuate people, but when that didn’t work, she must have gone to the queen. Bet she’s out there right now elbows deep in my gold!”
Sarai’s heart started to pound, and she glanced around at the speaker, a burly man in his forties she didn’t recognize. He was twice her size, the scowl on his face promising trouble. Her own gold hoard flashed through her mind, safely hidden in her mattress at the rooming house. If anyone tried to take it, by the time they found it all, they’d probably be too far from safe haven at the castle to take shelter before the wave hit. She tried not to panic at the thought; even if someone robbed her while the town was empty, their drowning wouldn’t be her fault. Plus, the furniture was sturdy enough–it would probably survive a dunking mostly unscathed, so if she wasn’t robbed, her gold was safe.
With nowhere to go, nowhere she wouldn’t be surrounded by angry, frustrated people, she felt the panic rising in her stomach and up through her throat. She pushed at the crowd, fighting her way to the edge until she was pressed with her back to the wall. She squeezed herself against the stone, trying to fit into as small a space as she could, but any room she made for herself was instantly filled by the crowd, expanding like water into every available crevasse.
Her hand hit a latch as she edged along, and she fumbled with it, finally tugging it open and taking a deep breath. She shoved herself through the crack into the small room.
She shut the door behind her, turning to rest her back against it as she savored the sudden silence.
The storeroom was dark, with a little light filtering from the high window above her shoulder, and a then shadow moved less than a foot in front of her face.
Sarai let out a small scream and groped for a weapon on the shelves beside her.
“It’s all right!” The shadow’s hands came up, placating. “I won’t hurt you! Please don’t scream again. I just wanted to get out of the crowd.”
The voice was familiar somehow, and Sarai took a tentative step forward, the light from the high window falling on her face.
“Sarai? Is that you?”
Sarai lowered the jar of preserves she’d picked up to defend herself with, suddenly realizing who the voice belonged to. “Nicholas?”
As her eyes adjusted, the shape of her painter friend emerged from the darkness. “What are you doing here?”
“Well,” he drawled, “I heard something about a mandatory evacuation—”
“Yes, all right, stupid question.” Sarai put a hand to her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart.
“Trying to escape the crowd, as I believe I mentioned. I assume you’re here for the same reason.”
“You were here first,” said Sarai, reaching for the latch. “I can go.”
“No need.” He smiled at her. “There’s plenty of room for two.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to judge his intentions. He tucked h
is hands behind his back, leaning against the wall, shrinking into himself, and she slid her hand away from the latch cautiously. “My mother always told me not to get in closets with strange men, you know.”
Nicholas grinned. “I’m certainly strange, but your virtue is safe from me, I promise.”
“Oh, a gentleman, then.” She kept her gaze on him but relaxed a little. “It’s getting bad out there,” she offered, and he nodded.
“Six thousand people trying to fit in a courtyard. Even if half of them were safe inland on the farms, it would still be a tight fit.”
Sarai nodded. “You promise you’ll not try anything?”
Nicholas placed a hand over his heart solemnly. “On my honor.” His focus stayed on her face, and he certainly looked sincere.
She nodded. “All right.”
“So what do you think is happening out there?” He asked. “Do you think there’s really going to be this disaster everyone’s talking about?”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“Well. I heard someone out there say the queen went mad, talking about omens and creatures. I understand caution and making sure the town is safe at all costs, but a whole day’s work is being lost while we’re all trapped in here. Plus, there’s the risk of theft and mayhem while the houses are all unoccupied if this is a trap of some sort.”
“I believe the queen.” Sarai looked at her hands.
“Just like that?”
“I do.”
He frowned. “You seem very certain about a woman who only came to this city a few years ago. Most people would say she doesn’t even know our land yet.”
Sarai shrugged. “She’s a good ruler. Better than her husband, I daresay. I trust her.”
Nicholas watched her for a moment, his pupils wide in the darkness now that her sight had adjusted. His scrutiny made her want to shrink backward, but she resisted the urge. Finally his eyes narrowed, and he leaned in, examining her face. “You know something, don’t you. Come on, what is it?”
“I know her information is good, that’s all.” She felt her cheeks getting redder as he leaned in, gaze fixed on her face.
“How?”
She looked up, meeting his eyes finally. “Can’t you trust me? I promise I know.”
“My dear, I don’t trust anyone.” His voice was sardonic, pointed as he leaned closer, and Sarai flinched. He’d come close enough that his breath felt hot on her shoulder, and he loomed large in front of her. Her heart started pounding again.
“Please, not so close,” she said, pressing herself back into the door and slipping on something on the floor, tripping and catching herself on the shelving.
“Oh!” He stepped backward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t enjoy being in the dark. Metaphorically or literally, actually. I didn’t mean to scare you, Sarai.” He shook his head. “Look, you have nothing to worry about from me, all right? Please don’t be frightened.” Sighing, he leaned against the shelves of jars beside him. “I like you, Sarai, but you’re not exactly my type, if you know what I mean.”
“Noble?” she asked. “I’ve heard that before, and it’s just marriage that’s out of the question for your kind of man. Certainly doesn’t keep them in their noble beds.”
He smiled. “I don’t care if you’re noble. I do care if you’re a woman. I prefer men, personally.”
She blinked and looked up. “Oh.”
“Yes,” he said. “Oh.” He reached out a gentle hand.
She took the offered hand and let him pull her upright. “I’ve never met a noble of your—” she searched for the right word “—persuasion.”
He grinned, more naturally this time, relieved. “Then you haven’t met many nobles.”
She blinked, flummoxed for a moment. “That’s very true,” she replied and hesitated.
“If you’re not comfortable, I can leave,” he said after a minute. “I know some people have certain feelings about people like me.”
“Oh, no!” Sarai chuckled. “I’d be the last person to judge someone.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve dallied with women and with men and—” Sarai stopped herself. “Anyway, I would never consider that a fault.”
Nicholas’s eyebrows shot up, but he was too well-bred to ask any more questions, for which Sarai was grateful.
“I, um. I should tell you why I’m so certain, I guess.”
He perked up.
“I’m the one who told the queen to evacuate the town,” she said, the words coming out in a rush.
“What?” he dropped her hand. “Why?”
“Because there is a wave coming, a big one!”
“How could you possibly know that?” He put his hands on his hips, staring down at her.
She sighed. “All right, this is going to sound a little strange, but what do you know about the sea?”
FROM INSIDE THE castle, the wave was nothing more than a rushing, muffled roar, the ground shaking under their feet slightly, throwing up dust from the stone walls and causing a jar of some sort of berry preserves to tumble to the floor and shatter. The next few hours had smaller and smaller disturbances, until finally there was quiet and stillness, and then the guards calling for the doors to be opened.
Sarai and Nicholas stumbled from their cabinet, blinking in the bright light, into a mass of people surging out into the town.
The cobblestones looked cleaner than Sarai had ever seen them, scoured by the assault of water, and up here on the hill the damage was minimal. Farther downhill, though, the smaller sheds were leaning at awkward angles, and down near the ocean, dozens of houses had been swept away into nothing. The water was still high, a hundred feet up the beach and into the trees.
Sarai stared out at the scattered wood and debris and rolled up her sleeves, joining in the effort to gather up the usable pieces. Nicholas disappeared inland toward his family’s lands to see if his help was needed there. After an hour or so, the guards appeared and began assigning people to work. A skinny, russet-skinned guard sent her to a crew on the western side of town to help repair the less-damaged, and thus salvageable, homes.
The work felt good, and the hours passed quickly, and when she looked up to stretch her aching back, the sun was already directly sinking low in the west, driving into her eyes.
“Why don’t you take a rest?” asked Klaus, the builder who had been put in charge of Sarai’s group. His voice was kind as he tugged the hammer from her hands. “The work will be here when you’ve had something to eat.”
Sarai considered arguing, seeing how much was left to do, but she looked at her blistering hands and contemplated her sore back. She thought better of arguing, instead thanking him and slipping away toward the water. It had receded to near its usual low tide level, leaving scattered detritus from the wave in the areas the crews had yet to clear.
The sounds of hammers and saws faded into the distance as Sarai wandered down the beach. The insistent lapping of the waves on the shore blurred all other sound, and she walked to where the waves brushed the sand at their highest point.
The shape of the dunes had changed, and the trees were battered where they’d stood tall before, but still, she recognized the place. This was the same spot where she saw the figurehead bobbing in the waves when she met Ydri and discovered a whole other world beneath the ocean; and the same spot where she returned, heartbroken, to the world she’d left behind.
The sun dappled the waves with red and orange light, cutting across at an angle and sending sparks through the hills and valleys of water. In the distance, a ship drifted on the waves, its white sails brilliant against the edge of the horizon. The sight sparked the familiar twinge of pain, but she welcomed it, remembering the feel of wet deck under her feet and hot sun against her shoulders. But the pain a little more distant. She’d found people who knew her as herself rather than who they wanted her to be or the persona she was hiding behind. That dulled the hurt a little.
Sarai closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion in her limb
s weigh her down as the tide came up to wet her toes. The water was sun-warm and she breathed in the salt smell deeply.
“Sarai.”
Without opening her eyes, Sarai smiled. “Hi.”
Ydri settled beside her, tail slapping against the waves now brushing Sarai’s ankles. She was in her true form, then, not the washed-out human version she’d worn when Sarai had last seen her. “How is your city?”
“All alive, thanks to you.” The sun warmed Sarai’s cheeks and she turned her face upward. “Thank you again.”
“I had to,” said Ydri simply, her shoulder brushing Sarai’s. “I could not let you and your people die.”
“Why not?”
Ydri was silent for a long moment. “I’ve never walked on two legs in the sun before today,” she said, instead of answering. “I felt strange, frightened. I was trapped, flattened, pinned to the ground, but yet—” she fell silent again.
“But what?”
“The sun.”
Sarai smiled and opened her eyes, turning her face to Ydri. “It’s different, isn’t it? The sunlight? You’re never quite warm when you’re damp.”
Ydri’s fern-colored cheeks shaded to olive. “That’s exactly it.” She took a deep breath. “I must give you an apology,” she said, eyes meeting Sarai’s. “I chose fear over friendship.” Her tail flicked the water, sending a warm spray over them both, and one of her long tendrils reached out, tentatively, and curled around Sarai’s waist.
Sarai shivered. “I understood. Your family needed you. We’ve only known each other for a week, really, though it seems longer.”
“They did not need me, not really,” said Ydri. “My sister is her own woman. You were right. My behavior is not hers to answer for.” She leaned back, powerful shoulder pressing against Sarai’s, hands resting in the sand behind them. Her skin was bare, warm and smooth even through Sarai’s sleeve. “We all carry the deeds of our clan, Sarai. Valor and cowardice, selflessness and pride. But one cannot base their self-worth on the works of others.”
“What does that mean for you?”
Ydri smiled, “It means I would like to see you again.” She leaned over and quickly pressed a kiss to Sarai’s lips, then slithered down into the waves, disappearing before Sarai could react.
Surface Tension Page 9
