Maelstrom

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Maelstrom Page 19

by Nadia Scrieva


  Visola’s heart soared as she gazed at her friend. This was what she had been seeking; this was the defiance she had thirsted for and expected to see on the face of her lover. This was what it truly felt like when someone loved her and stood up for her. Her chest swelled with adoration and admiration for the princess.

  Feeling Visola’s eyes on her, Aazuria turned to look at the redhead. She smiled.

  Visola smiled back.

  “You will not embarrass me!” Kyrosed roared as he swam after Aazuria. “You will marry this boy.”

  Aazuria made a face of derision. “Frankly, Father, I would rather marry an octopus.”

  With that, she turned swiftly, and swam out of the room. The crowd erupted in a tumult of horror, laughter, and general disbelief at the unexpected drama.

  “This is the respectful and dignified daughter you promised me?” King Atlas asked Kyrosed with a sneer. “That ungrateful, insubordinate wench has insulted my son!”

  “Your son is going around fucking other women and promising to marry them!” King Kyrosed shot back. “You expected my daughter to tolerate such indecorous and indecent behavior?”

  “Yes!” said King Atlas. “My son is a crown prince, and he has the right to entertain himself however he pleases. A good female knows her place and ignores such dalliances!”

  Visola pressed a hand against her stomach, for she was feeling sick again. She thought she might vomit right there in the ballroom, and send chunks of her previous meal floating all over the party. Entertainment, she thought to herself. He used me for entertainment. I was nothing to him. The true nature of the situation was becoming clear to her. Her pride had never been so wounded.

  “Your son is an uncivilized, vulgar boor!” King Kyrosed was saying. “You would think you raised him in a fish-pen instead of a palace!”

  Visola could no longer listen to the arguing monarchs. She was emotionally exhausted. She began swimming out of the room, to look for Aazuria. However, when she was in the corridor, she sensed someone behind her. She swiveled, and came face to face with Taranis. Even though she was furious at him, she still had an urge to throw her arms around him. Even though she felt concern for the bruises on his face, she greatly yearned to give him some more.

  “Please,” he begged her, mouthing his words into the water. “Please understand that I did what I did for my country. My father… he was very harsh and persuasive this morning…”

  “I don’t care,” she told him. “You are not the man I thought you were. You filled my head with lies. Every word was false, just meant to secure your own pleasure.”

  “I meant every word I said to you,” he said, and Visola could tell from the shaking of his torso that he was crying. “I want to be with you. I want to run away with you.”

  “After what you just did?” Visola could not reconcile all the conflicting emotions in her breast. She knew that she could not think about this situation too much, or she might forgive him. She needed to be strong. He was weak, but she would never be like him. “You said that we would be together. You… you laid with me.” Unable to resist the urge any longer, Visola flung her fist out and hit him. It broke her heart when her fist connected with his already wounded black eye. She did not want to hurt him, for she genuinely cared for him. But he had hurt her.

  He clutched his eye in pain. “Visola…”

  “I never want to see you again,” she told him. It was a lie, but she would make it true. “If you come near me, I’ll kill you.

  “Visola… I love you.”

  “Oh, please. Save it for your next insignificant conquest.” She began swimming away, but she turned back to deliver a final sentiment. If she did not see him ever again, for the rest of her life, she needed to leave him with an inspiring piece of wisdom. She needed her last words to be profound and memorable.

  “One more thing,” she said. “You can go fuck an octopus.”

  “How could you do this? How could you do this to me?” King Kyrosed roared. They were on the ship, returning home to Valhalla. He was advancing on Aazuria menacingly. “We only went to Atlantis to get help with the war on the Ker-ys. What are we going to do now? You have fucked me over!”

  “I am sorry, Father,” Aazuria said.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough!” he yelled, putting his face very close to hers. “You have ruined everything!”

  “I was not born to be your perfect little bargaining chip,” she told him quietly. “You created me and raised me, but you do not own me. I am ready to endure whatever consequences you deem fit.”

  “Oh, there will be consequences,” he whispered. He reached out to grab her neck, but instead, found his hand connecting with sharp metal. He drew back in surprise, seeing blood covering his hand. Another sharp object was shoved up against his neck.

  “Step away from the princess,” Visola told him. “You can talk to your daughter once you’ve calmed down.”

  “I am your king, Visola. You are not allowed to threaten me,” Kyrosed said darkly. “That is treason.”

  “Trust me,” Visola told him, “I’m in the mood for a little treason. Get out of this room. Now.”

  “If I didn’t have a massive war to plan for, I would have your head taken off, Lieutenant Ramaris.”

  “If Aazuria didn’t love you, I’d take yours off right now,” she replied, shoving her sword against his neck harder.

  With a frustrated growl, King Kyrosed left the room.

  “Thank you,” Aazuria told her friend, with a sigh of relief. She moved to sit down on her bed.

  Visola immediately returned her sword to its sheath, and dropped down to one knee in respect. “Princess Aazuria…”

  “Please do not do that,” Aazuria told her gently. “I’ve had enough people kneeling before me today. Rise to your feet, Visola.”

  The red-haired warrior did as she was told, but her lip quivered with emotion. “You stood up for me,” Visola whispered. “You turned him down.”

  “Yes,” Aazuria said, gazing at the taller woman fondly. “We are friends, are we not? It is my understanding that you are supposed to do such a thing for a friend.”

  “But Zuri,” Visola said weakly. “I think you just started a war because of me.”

  Aazuria nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “I can’t stand right now,” Visola said. She moved forward and collapsed on the ground near Aazuria’s feet, and leaned her cheek against her friend’s knees. “This has been the most awful day of my life.”

  “I want you to know something, Viso,” Aazuria said quietly, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I would gladly start a thousand wars for you. To defend your honor, I would fight any battle. If you are hurt or troubled, that is the most important thing to me in the world. Please remember this. Someday, when I am queen, if you ever think your problems aren’t important to me—you’re wrong. You defend me and protect me on a daily basis, and I will always do the same for you.”

  “I don’t deserve this loyalty,” Visola said, fighting back tears. “A few minutes ago, I was going to abandon you for some guy I just met.”

  “That is because he was the wrong man,” Aazuria told her. “The right man encourages you to be closer to your friends. He grows to love them and consider them family. He doesn’t ask you to run away in the middle of the night and leave everyone and everything you love behind.”

  “I understand that now,” Visola said. She hugged Aazuria’s legs. “You know, that if you had agreed to marry him, I wouldn’t blame you. I wouldn’t love you any less. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

  “I did. If I can avoid hurting you, I must. At all costs.” Aazuria was quiet for a moment. “I know that I said some things that upset you lately, but I did not mean them. I do need you, both as my guardian and as my companion. I will never turn my back on you, and I will never break a promise to you, Visola. You are my dearest friend, and you will never be alone. Your causes are my causes. Your pain is my pain. Your victories are my victori
es. For as long as I live.”

  Visola sniffled. “I’m not that great with words, but… take everything you just said, and multiply it by 34, and that’s how much I love you.”

  Aazuria giggled. “Why 34?”

  “I don’t know,” Visola said, sniffling, and wiping her nose on her sleeve. She was trying very hard not to bawl like a baby. “I’m not thinking clearly right now. How could I be so stupid? How could I think that you didn’t care about me? How could I think that he loved me?”

  “Maybe he did love you,” Aazuria said thoughtfully. “Love is not that important, Visola. It’s not that rare, either. It’s human nature for us to love each other. However, a man can love you and still treat you like dirt. The way my father loves his daughters. Choose a man who respects you. Respect is far more essential and precious than love. Choose a man whom you respect, and it will be easy to always honor him. And, if you’re willing to be a little patient, maybe you can even find a man whom you love, who loves you in return. But please, please put respect first.”

  Visola seemed pensive. “I thought I respected Taranis, but when he proposed to you, I lost all respect for him. I think my love disappeared along with the respect.” She leaned back to look up at Aazuria with a frown. “I guess you’re right. Respect is very rare. The only men I can think of whom I respect are my father and Uncle Sigarr.”

  “Maybe we will meet the right people someday,” Aazuria told her.

  “Yes. Taranis was just a mistake.” Visola made a fist and slammed it into the palm of her hand. “He was a mistake I will never make again! From now on, I’m detaching my body from my brain. I’m never going to let someone hurt me like this in the future. I’m never going to be so stupid.”

  Just then, Sionna walked into the room. “Hello, ladies.”

  Visola bounced off the floor and threw herself at her sister, enveloping her twin in a colossal hug. “You were right. You’re always right.”

  Sionna returned the hug. “I did not want to be right.” She sighed. “I may have some unsettling news. It looks like we are returning home to a country on fire. Father sent me a letter, and he said we’ve had three villages attacked and ruined since we left home. I just spoke to King Kyrosed… and he said that since we did not get the alliance with Atlantis… we may need to leave our home and flee to safety somewhere distant, in the next few years.”

  There was a silence in the room as the other two women absorbed this information.

  Visola shivered slightly as she thought about the implications. “Princess Aazuria…” She looked back at the young girl with distress. “What if we lose Valhalla because of what you just did?”

  “It will be worth it,” Aazuria said solemnly. “It will be worth it to me, for you.”

  Chapter 11: He Torments Her

  Present Day

  Visola felt a slap across her face. She groaned. Another slap connected with the other cheek. She opened her eyes, and was startled to find herself in the back of an armored truck.

  “Tell us what you know about Leviathan!” shouted the CIA agent.

  Visola blinked. “Um. I’m confused. Didn’t I just tell you guys everything I know?”

  “No,” said Agent Karen Kilham. “You just mumbled something about an octopus. Is that the name of one of Leviathan’s cohorts?”

  Visola chuckled. “Oh, yeah. The Octopus is Leviathan’s right-hand man.” She snorted a little in laughter. “Or… maybe that’s just what he calls his right hand.”

  “So… the Leviathan was your boyfriend?” asked Lewis.

  “Wow. You weren’t even able to get that much out of me?” Visola shook her head. “Your truth serum sucks. You should call it a bad-memory serum. I did not want to take a swim in that memory pond.”

  “Why did you date him?” Agent Joyce Dearborn asked in a sensitive voice. It seemed like she actually cared.

  Visola smiled at her. “I’ve always had a thing for a boy with an artistic side. What can I say? I was only 132 years old, kind of innocent, and way too excited about life. I didn’t know how awful it could get.”

  “What was he like?” Joyce asked.

  “Let’s see,” Visola said thoughtfully. “Do you guys know my husband?”

  A few of them nodded.

  “I can’t confirm what Leviathan is like today,” Visola said. “But back when I met him… he was basically a younger, dumber, weaker, less successful version of my husband. And though he was great with his guitar, it never quite made me feel as great as reading Vachlan’s stories does. Or watching movies made from his books. Have any of you ever seen my husband’s movies?” She sighed. “They’re pretty great.”

  “They actually are great,” said Karen, with a small blush. “Do you know what he’s working on next?”

  “I haven’t spoken to him in a while,” Visola said. “My guess is an action flick with a bit of romance, or a romance flick with a lot of action. You should talk to him. He might be able to write in some characters for devoted but misguided CIA agents who can’t successfully perform an interrogation, and end up chatting about movies and their target’s love life, because she’ll only talk about superficial things freely to waste their time.”

  “That’s it,” said Agent Lewis. “I’m going to kill this bitch.” He lifted his gun and pointed it at Visola’s head.

  “No!” said Joyce, diving for the weapon. She knocked it away just as he fired, and the bullet went into Visola’s shoulder. The sound of the gunshot echoed loudly in the small enclosure.

  “Ow,” Visola said, looking down at the new bullet hole in displeasure. “That’s uncomfortable.”

  “I’m sick of this!” Agent Lewis said as he wrestled with Joyce on the ground for his gun. “She’s so fucking annoying.”

  “She has information we need!” Agent Dearborn reminded her colleague. “Keep it together! She’s trying to upset you on purpose.”

  Agent Lewis twisted Joyce’s body and slammed her head against the bottom of the truck. The female agent passed out.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Karen Kilham asked. “She was trying to help us. She was the only one getting anywhere.”

  “She was a charlatan,” said Agent Lewis. He reached for his gun again, and went to shoot Visola once more. This time, Karen Kilham kicked his gun, and the bullet ricocheted off the truck walls. The bullet hit Agent Lewis in his leg, close to his hip.

  “Dammit!” he swore, grabbing his thigh.

  Visola and Agent Karen Kilham looked at each other in surprise.

  “Did he just shoot himself in the ass?” Visola asked in an incredulous whisper.

  Agent Karen Kilham nodded. Then she began to giggle. She clamped her hands over her mouth to conceal her laugher.

  With a roar of rage, Agent Lewis leapt forward and punched Karen Kilham in the face. When she stumbled backward and fell, he moved toward Visola and positioned his gun against her chest.

  “Say hello to your sister, bitch,” said the man, as he began to pull the trigger.

  “Mmkay,” Visola said, with a little shrug.

  Before the gun could be fired, an explosion was heard, and the armored car was flipped on its side. Visola’s head slammed into the back of her chair, but because her body was strapped down, she was the only one wearing the equivalent of a seatbelt.

  “Ow,” she said again, blinking away the stars that seemed to be spinning around her head. Then she frowned. It seemed unusually cartoonish for there to be stars spinning around her head. She was still staring at the little yellow shapes when the door to the armored car was ripped open. Several figures in black entered the vehicle, and retrieved her from the wreckage. She was still dazed as she was carried out and laid on the ground. She saw that she had been traveling in a small convoy of armored vehicles, and that none of these vehicles were standing upright, on their wheels.

  When a flashlight was shone into her eyes, Visola realized that the drugs had not completely worn off yet. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Who’s d
oing this? Vachlan?”

  “It’s me,” said a dark-haired woman, crouching at her side.

  Visola squinted, and was able to make out the face of Princess Yamako. She closed her eyes. “Don’t kill the CIA agents.”

  “Why not?” Yamako asked. “Most of them are already dead.”

  “The ones in my car… they’re with me.” Visola felt the bullet being removed from her shoulder. She was receiving proper medical attention from an ally, and she should have felt safe and relieved. Instead, she just felt annoyed. She allowed herself to pass out for a few minutes while Princess Yamako ensured the survival of the people in her vehicle. She felt the doctors examining her wounds and treating them with speed and efficiency. Once more, she imagined her sister’s ghost crouching over her. This time, Sionna was wearing her white lab coat. You’re a mess, Viso, the ghost said, shaking her head fondly. Here, lie still and let me fix up this broken body of yours.

  When the Japanese woman returned to her side, Visola felt a soft hand caressing her cheek. “You’re okay, Viso. You’re going to be okay. The CIA agents are all alive too.”

  Visola grunted her acknowledgement.

  “I have a plane waiting nearby,” Princess Yamako told her. “Wanna get out of here and go somewhere safe?”

  There was no response.

  Yamako frowned. “Viso, you need to accept my help. You can’t one-woman-army everything.”

  The redhead sighed.

  “Please say something, Viso. I just saved your life…”

  “You fucking dumb whore!” Visola finally shouted, opening her eyes and glaring at Yamako. “You think I’d let myself get captured if it wasn’t intentional?”

  Princess Yamako stared at her with raised eyebrows. “They were torturing you. They could’ve killed you.”

  “You call that torture? It was child’s play!” Visola hissed. “On my 200th wedding anniversary, my husband crucified me to a wooden trident. He left me up there for days. He broke my kneecap with a pickaxe. This was nothing! The Americans just slapped me around a little. They were chatting with me about movies.”

 

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