Maelstrom
Book Six of the Sacred Breath Series
By Nadia Scrieva
Copyright 2014 Nadia Scrieva
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Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
-Sylvia Plath, Lady Lazarus
Chapter 1: She Needs Space
Aazuria unfastened the clasp of her heavy brocade robe and pushed the weight off her shoulders. Stiff golden threads grazed her skin as the garment fell from her body and draped itself over the corner of her bed. The queen sighed and reached up to rub the tension out of her upper back. Her thumb dug into the scar tissue of an old wound that had healed long ago, leaving behind only a saddening and somewhat bittersweet memory.
She was in the process of sitting down when a knock sounded on the door. Aazuria quickly retrieved her robe and arranged it around her shoulders again to maintain her modesty. Swiftly crossing the room, she grasped the knob and turned. She was somewhat surprised to see her husband.
“Trevain?” she asked with a furrowed brow. “Is everything alright?”
“No,” he said. The grey-haired man ushered himself into her room and closed the door behind him. He was so large that his presence seemed to cause the chamber to shrink. “We need to talk.”
“Please,” she said, shaking her head. “I just put the ashes of my friend’s body into the sea. Can we not save it for another night?”
“I’m afraid it can’t wait,” Trevain said in a firm tone. “If I don’t accost you now, you’ll be halfway across the world before the sun rises.”
“Yes, and for good reason.” Aazuria frowned. “I promised you that I’d bring your brother home. I have assembled a small squadron from my army to go after him tomorrow.”
“Forget my brother!” Trevain said sharply. “He’s probably off on a gambling bender. If only you knew what he put me through when he was younger—stealing my credit card for crazy Vegas trips. Now that we have real money, he’s probably fooling around in Monaco or Germany—Atlantis instead of Atlantic City, but it’s the same deal.”
“No. Callder changed when he had his daughter,” Aazuria said defensively. “My father mentioned something about instructing his ‘organization’ to deal with your brother. There is much more going on here, and even if you don’t care about his whereabouts—I promised Brynne.”
Trevain let his breath out in a whoosh of anger. “God, Zuri! How can you say I don’t care? I just know the hooligan better than you. We have many far more important concerns to focus on at the moment; governments are angry with us! The United Nations is challenging us with the Convention on the Law of the Sea. We haven’t gotten the CIA off our back. We’re being hounded for oil drilling rights, and harassed by environmental activists…”
“I know.”
“And what about Leviathan?” Trevain demanded.
“I know!” Aazuria said, fixing him with a serious glare. “Believe me, I know.” Her brow became knitted in frustration. “I do think that trying to rescue Callder could help us learn about Leviathan. His last known coordinates were in dangerous Mediterranean territory. But even if there is no connection, just because I’m at the helm of the Oceanic Empire does not mean I will forsake my family.”
“Really?” Trevain shot back. “Because it doesn’t seem to me that you’re spending enough time or resources on finding our daughter!”
Aazuria pulled her embroidered robe closer around her shoulders, letting her eyes drift to the ground. “You and I both know that Varia ran away. She doesn’t want to be found. Dr. Rosenberg said that she’s been through a lot of trauma, and it might be best to give her space…”
“Who cares what he says? We’re her parents and she’s a minor! She’s our little girl, in a world that is more dangerous than ever. She should be safe at home with a skilled security detail. She shouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without our permission and protection!”
“You’re very upset,” Aazuria observed with dismay. “Do not worry so much. Glais will take care of her.”
“I can’t believe you trust that boy,” Trevain said in exasperation. “Why would you send him after Varia? How can you know that he really has her best interests at heart? Who knows what they’re getting up to, wherever they are? Aazuria! I will not let that ungrateful orphan hurt my daughter! What if he gets her pregnant? She’s fourteen, Zuri. Fourteen. I know the kids think they’re adults, but they’re not.”
“Please,” Aazuria said, lifting a hand to her temple. “Maintain your composure. Trevain, it might be prudent for you to head to bed. We’ve had a miserable day. Sionna’s funeral was not easy on any of us. I think you should leave me be. We are both too exhausted to make progress on any matter.”
“You can’t mean that,” he said angrily. “This is Varia we’re talking about! There is no such thing as being too tired to be good parents.”
“No, but one can be too tired to realize they are being a bad parent,” Aazuria said with warning. Seeing the genuine concern and fatherly desperation on Trevain’s face, she felt her heart soften a little. “Look, Trevain. You had the misfortune of meeting my father. He controlled every aspect of my life with an iron fist. Sometimes, the best thing one can do for a child is to give her the freedom to find herself.”
He stared at her for a moment, before making the slightest of nods.
Aazuria reached out to place a hand on his arm comfortingly. “We have both taught her well. She knows right from wrong, and she knows a great deal more than most children her age. She knows how to pursue knowledge, and she has a passion for art. She’s a good girl. We should respect her enough to let her grieve in her own way.”
Trevain nodded again, with a bit more certainty. “I suppose you’re right.” He paused, cocking his head to the side sheepishly. “You’re always right, you know.”
Aazuria smiled weakly. “I try my best to be.”
“Just…” Trevain hesitated and glanced to the window. “Do you think she’s happy?”
“I truly believe that she is,” Aazuria responded without hesitation. “Happier than either of us.”
An awkward silence hung in the air for almost a minute. Trevain cleared his throat. “Speaking of which… that’s another subject I wanted to address. I would really like to talk about us.”
“Oh, no,” she groaned, turning and moving away. “Please. Not tonight.”
“Aazuria, you can’t keep ignoring our problems. You can’t brush our relationship under the rug like there was never anything between us…”
“I am not in the mood to have this discussion right now,” she told him.
Trevain reached into his jacket and removed a bundle of documents. “Well, I guess we don’t have to talk—but I do have to give you these papers. I’ve signed them already—and maybe you can consider whether or not you want to sign.”
Aazuria’s brow wrinkled. She reached out and took the documents from his hand, scanning them with surprise. “Are these…?”
“Divorce papers,” Trevain confirmed.
She stared down at the words on the paper before gla
ncing up at his mint-green eyes. “Oh.”
“You need…” He hesitated and fumbled for the words. “You need to decide. Either make a sincere effort to fix our marriage—or set me free.”
“Set you free?” she repeated quietly.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s not right for one man to be married to two women. I’ve hovered in limbo for too long, trying to do the right thing and screwing up a little more every day. I finally realized that it’s not my decision to make. It’s yours.”
“You—you want me to sign these papers?” she asked.
“I’m tired of chasing after you, Zuri. I fight so hard… but it’s obvious that you don’t love me anymore. I need closure. I need you to stop hoping that you’ll come around. My mind twists every small sign of affection you give me into evidence that we could still make it through. If it’s over for you—don’t leave me hanging. Sign these papers, and make it officially over.”
Aazuria felt like there was a great boulder sitting on her chest. She took a breath, but was somehow unable to fully expand her lungs. “I—I think…”
Trevain watched her reaction closely, with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension.
She could feel that he sought either her vehement denial or her despondent agreement to sign. Either answer would give him a direction and sense of purpose. He needed her to point him down the correct path, in order to have the certainty to continue onward. Just like everyone else, Aazuria thought to herself. They cannot be strong on their own, so they ask me to create the rules of what should and should not be. Why can people not make their own choices and determine their own paths?
“Aazuria?” he probed.
“Sometimes I feel that I have lived too long,” she said quietly. “Life just goes on and on for hundreds of years—and it never gets any easier.”
“What do you mean?” he asked with concern.
“Trevain, will you please leave so that I can get some rest?”
“Zuri…”
“Please.” She moved to open her door, and gestured into the hallway. “Leave. Now.”
Trevain seemed ready to protest when another large figure walked through the door and entered the room.
Vachlan made eye contact with Trevain before turning to stare at Aazuria. “We need to get everyone out of here. Now.”
“Out of the palace?” Trevain asked with dread apparent on his face.
“No,” Vachlan said. “Out of the city.”
Aazuria held her breath before speaking. “Are we under attack?” she asked.
Vachlan shook his head to indicate the negative. “No. But we will be.”
“How much time do we have?” Trevain asked.
“I don’t know,” Vachlan responded. “It could be days. It could be months. But I don’t want to have my children in harm’s way when they come.”
Aazuria squinted. “What has led you to believe that we will be attacked?”
“I have a bad feeling,” the dark-haired man responded. “Something’s about to go wrong.”
Trevain and Aazuria exchanged confused looks.
“A bad feeling,” Aazuria repeated. She shook her head in disbelief. “A bad feeling? Vachlan, I understand that you’re upset. We all are. Just go to bed, my friend. We’ll deal with matters of state in the morning.”
“Queen Aazuria! I’m your advisor, am I not? Well I’m advising you to evacuate every soul in Romanova. You’d be wise to do as I recommend.”
“My friend,” Aazuria said gently. “As much as I trust your counsel—which is usually implicitly—we simply cannot send thousands of people out of their homes in the middle of the night because you have a bad feeling. It’s not good for morale, to send everyone into a panic like that.”
“Panic is good!” Vachlan roared. “Panic will keep them alive when fire rains down from the sky. You need to send all your people back deep underwater, where they stand even the slightest fighting chance!”
Trevain cleared his throat and looked at Aazuria. “Should I say it, or do you want to?”
“I will,” Aazuria responded quietly. “Vachlan, you haven’t been yourself lately. You’re not thinking clearly, and you should probably take some time off. Your judgment has obviously been impaired by Visola’s disappearance.”
Something flashed in the man’s dark eyes. “This has nothing to do with her!” he almost shouted. “We are at war and none of you morons even realize it! You’re going to get us all killed! For God’s sake, they shot Sionna! Sionna! Do you know what that means? It’s the beginning of the end!”
Aazuria felt a chilling sense of alarm creeping through her spine. She could not seem to ever recall seeing Vachlan so emotional. For the first time in their acquaintance, there was something approaching fear in the man’s eyes. It was unnerving. Aazuria swallowed and glanced at Trevain. “Your grandfather is not well. Please take him to bed.”
“Not well?” Vachlan said in disbelief. “Being cautious and trying to save your people makes me insane now, Aazuria? Fine! You want to avoid making them panic? I’ll bomb the city myself and say that our enemies did it! I’ll show them what terror really is! I’ll put the fear of god in those puny little people!”
“Please don’t do that,” Aazuria said quietly. “I highly doubt that will help the situation. I will consider your advice and begin planning a calm and efficient method of evacuation for the future, in the event it will be needed.”
“It will be needed,” Vachlan spat. “Mark my words. It will be needed, and you won’t be ready!”
“Come now, Gramps,” Trevain said in a kindly way. “You could probably use some shut-eye. When was the last time you slept?”
“I… I don’t know. I guess it’s been a few days. But I don’t need any sleep,” Vachlan swore. “I’m being perfectly rational.”
“Take him to the infirmary,” Aazuria told Trevain. “Maybe Sionna can give him some…” She trailed off in mid-speech.
Both men stared at her in stunned silence.
Unable to bear the weight of their pain-filled gazes, Aazuria shut her own eyes. “Go,” she ordered them sharply, her voice breaking. “Both of you, leave my room and shut the door.” When they complied, she moved to the edge of her bed and allowed her body to sink down into the mattress. She let her head fall forward into her hands.
“Viso,” she whispered into the empty space. “Where are you? Please come back. We all need you so much.”
“Where’s Mommy?”
Vachlan was woken from his fitful rest by two tiny bodies jumping on him. He extended his arms protectively to catch the dozens of pounds of energetic toddlers that had catapulted onto his chest. Looking up into a pair of inquisitive little eyes, he could not, for the life of him, think of how to respond. “I… I don’t know, munchkin.”
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Is Mommy in outer space?”
Vachlan released a sigh. “Maybe. That woman… It’s just as likely that she’s in orbit as anywhere else.”
“Is she with Auntie Sio in outer space?” Ivory demanded.
The dark-haired man gave his daughter a puzzled look. “Who told you that Aunt Sio was in outer space?”
“Kaito told me. Kaito knows lots of things,” Ivory said with a solemn nod.
Ronan frowned, tugging on his sister’s pigtail in a cynical way. “Why would Auntie Sio be in outer space? She’s not an astronaut! She’s a doctor.”
“Oh Sedna, you’re so stupid,” Ivory told her brother with a groan. “There’s sick people in outer space too! They need doctors there badly, because everybody gets sick from the radiators. Right, Daddy?”
Vachlan nodded dumbly, unable to focus on the conversation.
“Radiators?” Ronan said with a puzzled look. “So Aunt Sio has gone to save everybody from the radiators?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Ivory reasoned. “Nobody will tell me anything, so I have to figure it out myself. I think mommy went to outer space too.”
Reaching over to the side of
his bed, Vachlan retrieved a bottle of painkillers. He popped three pills into his mouth and swallowed them down to attempt to combat his headache. “Okay, tidbits,” Vachlan said, with strained cheerfulness. “I think you should head back to your bedroom and let Daddy rest. I have a very critical meeting early in the morning, and some phone calls I can’t miss.”
“No,” Ivory said firmly. “We have important news, and we need Mommy.”
“What’s wrong?” Vachlan asked, sitting up and yanking his gun from beneath his pillow. “Are they here? Are they coming for me?” On second thought, he reached to his side and slipped his hand under the pillow that used to belong to his wife. Retrieving another gun, he handed it to his five-year-old daughter. “Here, take this. Just stay calm, and we’ll get out of here together.”
Ivory stared down at the gun in her hand. “What’s this for, Daddy?”
“He thinks it’s time for fighting,” Ronan whispered to his sister. “That’s why there are dark, puffy bubbles under his eyes.”
Vachlan reached up to touch his eyes self-consciously.
“Silly Daddy,” Ivory said, putting Visola’s gun back under the pillow and patting her father’s cheek. “There’s no fighting yet! I’ll be the first to let you know when the fighting begins.” She nodded gravely. “The important news is other stuff. We have a surprise!”
“A surprise?” Vachlan asked in a tired voice.
“Yeah! Ronan lost his tooth!” Ivory shouted. She pointed to her brother’s face with excitement. “See?! It fell out when he was eating a banana!”
Ronan gave his father a big smile to demonstrate the large gap where one of his front teeth used to be. He then removed a hand from behind his back, offering up the tooth to his father proudly. “I want to show Mommy,” Ronan told him. “She said I could play with the flamethrower when I lost my first tooth!”
“It’s not fair,” Ivory said, shaking Vachlan’s shoulder. “I want to play with the flamethrower too. Why did he lose his tooth before me, Daddy? Is he more growed-up?”
Maelstrom Page 1
