Crown of Coral and Pearl

by Mara Rutherford

  The halls were cold and deserted at this time of night. I passed the occasional servant, and they politely acknowledged me with a nod of the head and a quick bow or curtsy, but aside from the guards scattered along the corridors, I was mostly alone. The lunar moss torches glowed very faintly, bathing everything in their eerie blue glow. I felt like some sort of strange deep-sea creature sensing my way through the dark; someone could be standing right next to me, and I wouldn’t know it.

  I was starting to lose my nerve when I saw a pale light ahead in the gloom. It whisked past the corridor I was in and down a narrower one. I hurried to follow it, thinking it was another lord or lady who could direct me back to my chambers, but quickly saw that it was Ceren, carrying a lantern emitting a soft green glow. His white-blond hair trailed behind him as he rounded another corner.

  I only hesitated for a moment. If he caught me, I’d tell him I was on my way to visit Lady Hyacinth and had gotten lost. Fortunately, my slippers were soft-soled and made no sound on the stone floors, and my nightgown hardly rustled when I moved. Ceren took another turn, and I hung back long enough to peer around the corner before following him. His long black robes scraped the floor as he walked, like nails scritching at a door.

  We were deeper in the mountain than I’d ever been before, the floors sloping down more steeply as we went. The corridors were smaller here—I could touch both sides if I stretched my arms out, and the ceilings barely cleared Ceren’s head. I hadn’t seen a guard for a while now.

  I gasped when something fluttered in my hair: a moth, tangled in the strands. Ceren turned and raised his foxfire lantern, and I pressed myself flat against the wall, praying he couldn’t see me in the shadows. I had no logical excuse for being this deep in the mountain other than following him, and the realization that I had put myself in a very dangerous situation struck me. Ceren could do anything to me down here, and no one would hear. I may as well have been a dozen miles away from civilization. My heart rate quickened as I felt the weight of all the stone surrounding us press in on me.

  I could die in this tunnel, and my body might never be found.

  When Ceren turned back around and continued on, I slid down against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady myself. I couldn’t linger long—Ceren had taken the only light with him, and I was completely blind without it. I rose shakily to my feet and felt for the next corner, but I was too late. He was gone.

  I blinked into the blackness. He couldn’t have disappeared. It was just dark, I told myself, and there was probably another corner up ahead. I continued to feel my way along the wall, hardly daring to breathe. Suddenly the wall fell away, and the air around me was cooler, less oppressive. Ahead of me, I could see something shimmering on the ground.

  And then I heard it. Water.

  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw the green light of Ceren’s lantern bobbing in the distance. I took a cautious step forward. I was in a giant cavern, with a vast underground lake spread out before me. Farther ahead, I could make out more faint green lights and shadows passing in front of them. Ebb had made it seem like no one in the castle would willingly go near a large body of water, including Ceren, but there were other people here. Why?

  I kept my hand against the wall of the cave, which was only a foot or two from the water’s edge. Several times I could feel the coldness seep into my slippers as the water lapped gently against the stone shore. The green lights were closer now, but I still couldn’t make out the voices of the shadowy figures. I crept as close as I dared, until I could just make out the people’s silhouettes in the dim light, and crouched behind a column formed by a massive stalagmite.

  “How long were you under?” I heard Ceren ask.

  “Seven, maybe eight minutes, Your Highness.” The voice was that of a child, thin and high-pitched and frightened. “Please don’t make me go again. It’s dark down there, and so cold.”

  I couldn’t make out Ceren’s next words, but they were gruff and angry.

  The child spoke again. “Ten minutes? But my brother—”

  Another man’s voice cut the child off. “How long do you need, Your Highness? We can buy more time with a larger air bladder.”

  I crept out cautiously from behind the stalagmite to get a better look. I could just make out the sack and hose I’d seen in Ceren’s workshop, but now the bag was filled with air.

  “I won’t be able to gather enough oysters in seven minutes. Of course, that’s assuming there are any to be had. The Varenians claim they’re impossible to find, and evidently only one in a dozen will have a pearl. I need more time.”

  “We’ll keep working on it, Your Highness.”

  “Of course you will. I’ve already told Talin about the test. You have a week to get it right.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the two voices said.

  So Melina was right. With a device that allowed Ceren to breathe underwater for ten minutes, he could dive far more efficiently than any Varenian. True, some of our men had been known to hold their breath for that long, but not while hunting. The longest I had ever stayed down was five minutes, perhaps six during the incident. And if Ceren was able to create more devices, he could easily use his own men to harvest the pearls. He would not only render the Varenians obsolete, he would cut us off from our only source of income.

  Ceren would be the death of us all, just like Melina said.

  I shifted back into my crouch behind the stalagmite just as Ceren’s robes resumed their swishing. He was only a few feet away when something stirred in the water.

  Ceren froze. He was so close I could hear him breathing, remarkably slow and steady. Whatever was happening, he wasn’t frightened. But I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming when something pale and slimy dragged itself out of the water. Ceren pounced on it so suddenly I jumped.

  “Quick!” he called to one of his servants. “Bring me a knife. This one’s fat enough to serve for dinner.”

  The creature wriggled in his grip. It was nearly half Ceren’s size, with a long tail and tiny eyes.

  “What is it?” the boy asked as the other man handed Ceren his knife.

  “Have you never seen an Ilarean cave salamander, boy?” Ceren asked. “They’re considered a delicacy. Sadly, most of the giant ones have been killed off by now. But it’s entirely possible they’ve been swimming just inches from you, and you never even knew it. Lucky for you, they’re blind.”

  He took the knife and sawed off the salamander’s head without bothering to kill it first. I’d killed and gutted more than my share of fish, but there was something about the way Ceren hacked away at the body, with no skill or regard to providing a clean, quick death, that made my stomach roil.

  When he’d finished, Ceren dropped the knife and told the servants to deal with the body. He crouched down at the water’s edge not three feet from where I stood behind the stalagmite. I was holding my breath, but with my heart racing and fear coursing through me, I wouldn’t last more than a couple of minutes. Ceren calmly rinsed his hands in the light of the lantern. There was an obscene amount of blood, and he was taking his time.

  Finally, when I thought my lungs would burst, I exhaled as quietly as I could. Slowly, Ceren’s head began to turn. I ducked farther back into the shadows, cursing myself for following him down here. You’re going to die in this stupid cave! The salamanders will have your bones for breakfast!

  My eyes were shut tight as I waited to be discovered. But several moments later, I heard the scritch-scritch of Ceren’s robes again. When I opened my eyes, he was moving away from me, back toward the entrance of the cave. I was about to collapse with relief when he began to sing in a quiet, surprisingly lovely voice.

  “Beware the lionfish, my dear. Beware the fish that’s made of stone. Beware sweet nothings in your ear...” His voice trailed off as he left the cave.

  When enough time had passed, I fumbled my way back
through the dark. What a fool I’d been to think I could come to Ilara and spy on anyone. Ceren was too intelligent, and I was far too naive. He’d probably seen me when the moth flew into my hair and let me follow just to toy with me. I wondered if killing the salamander had also been for my benefit. The memory of the blood on his white skin and the fear of being caught overwhelmed me, and I stopped to vomit up the remains of my dinner in an alcove.

  It was brighter here, at least, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I passed a guard. I wasn’t alone anymore. I finally reached a familiar hallway and hurried back to my bedroom, where I found Ebb asleep on the little settee in the corner.

  I roused her gently. “I’m sorry, Ebb. I got lost,” I said as she blinked and sat up.

  “Milady!” she gasped, her expression filled with relief. “I came back to check on you, and you were gone. I was so worried. Are you all right?”

  I wanted to shake my head and collapse into her arms, but I forced a smile. “I’m fine. The mountain can be very confusing in the dark.”

  “I understand. I’ll draw you a map later. I don’t like walking alone down below, and I’ve been living here for years. I know the rumors about Mount Ayris are just fairy stories, but sometimes they get in my head and I scare myself silly.”

  “What rumors?” I asked as she helped me into bed.

  She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her mouth twisted in a grin. “It’s silly, milady. But they say that thousands of years ago, there were giants, great big men and women who shook the ground when they walked. The god Theale was angry that the giants were destroying his creations, so one night, when they lay down to sleep, he turned them all to stone. They say the giants’ blood froze in their veins and became the bloodstones that used to be mined from the mountain.”

  “Bloodstones?” I asked. Now that the adrenaline had drained out of me, I realized how exhausted I was. My eyelids were growing heavy under the soothing tones of Ebb’s voice.

  “Beautiful red jewels with magical properties. They were said to make the wearer so powerful, she could command armies to certain death if she chose. But over the years, people grew greedy and stripped the mines bare. Countless wars were fought over the remaining jewels. Here, in Mount Ayris, the mines were flooded by the Bloody Queen Ebbeela to end the fighting once and for all. I’m named after her, you know. Well, I’m named after Saint Ebbeela, as she came to be known after her death.”

  “The Bloody Queen?” I asked incredulously. “How could she possibly earn a sainthood?”

  “She was actually a very wise, fair ruler. After the mines were destroyed, she paid off the kingdom’s debts and Ilara prospered during her reign. She earned the ‘bloody’ part of her title after she had her son killed. But history hasn’t been kind to him—they say he was unwell in the head, milady, and she didn’t trust him to rule.”

  Her words sounded far away, like I was halfway in a dream already. “Where are all the bloodstones now?”

  “Gone, milady. Scattered to the edges of the world. They say there was once power in the blood of men, but we abused that power, and the gods took it back.”

  In my semiconscious state, the words bloodstone and blood coral began to muddle. The idea that they were in some way the same was the last thought that struck me before I fell asleep.

  18

  I was sure Ceren had seen me in the cave, and I waited for him to acknowledge it at dinner the following night, but he greeted me with the same cursory bow as usual. He wore a loose burgundy tunic, unbuttoned at the throat to reveal several inches of his pale, smooth chest, and a black leather belt at his waist with a knife tucked into it.

  “I believe I mentioned a possible excursion outside the mountain,” he said as he forked a wobbly bite of reddish-brown meat into his mouth. “Beef liver,” he said, noticing my expression. “It’s said to improve one’s health.”

  I’d never much cared for meat, but the way it was served raw and bloody here in New Castle had put me off it completely. Particularly now that I’d seen Ceren’s butchering skills. For all I knew, he was eating salamander liver. “Are you unwell?” I asked.

  His gray eyes flashed to mine. “Do I look unwell to you?”

  “No, of course not. Just a little pale perhaps.”

  “I have my mother’s coloring. She was fair, like me. Talin was fortunate to inherit his mother’s looks and constitution.” His tone was begrudging, despite the compliment.

  I hadn’t seen Talin in days. I was about to ask how he was faring when Ceren stabbed another chunk of meat and waved it at me.

  “I’m happy to say everything went well last night, and we are ready for the next phase of my experiment.”

  I kept my eyes on my plate. “Congratulations.”

  “Since you seem so curious about my work, I thought you might like to join me next week when I test it out.”

  A chill ran up my bare neck into my hairline. “Join you?”

  “Come now. You should be excited. It involves your favorite thing.”

  I kept my face blank. “And what would that be, Your Highness?”

  He laughed. “Water, of course.”

  I wouldn’t go back down to that lake for all the pearls in the Alathian Sea. I smiled, hoping I looked more coy than terrified. “You’re mistaken. Water is not my favorite thing.”

  He leaned closer. “No? Then please, enlighten me.”

  “Sunlight is my favorite thing, or at least the thing I miss most about Varenia.”

  “Not your family?”

  “I don’t consider them things.”

  Ceren scratched at his chin for a moment. “Well then, you’re still in luck, my dear. My experiment also involves sunlight. Assuming the weather cooperates.”

  I turned toward him, my mouth dropping open in surprise. “Do you mean...?”

  “Yes, we’ll be going outside. Of course, only if you want to.”

  I had to force myself not to bounce in my chair. “When?”

  “Tuesday,” he said with a chuckle. “If that suits your busy schedule.”

  It didn’t seem possible, but I’d been away from Varenia for nearly two weeks. Tuesday was three days before the market—enough time for someone to deliver a message for me, if I couldn’t make it there myself. “That should be fine.”

  “Then it’s settled. Come, there’s something I want to show you.”

  He led me down several corridors until we came to a hall I’d never seen before. Torches lined the walls, each illuminating a painting. As we walked, I realized what I was looking at: the portraits of every Varenian woman who’d come before me. And oh, how beautiful they were, each as fresh and vibrant as a seaflower. Now that I’d been away from my home and spent some time among the Ilareans, it was easy to recognize what made the Varenian queens special. Even rendered in paint, they seemed alive in a way no one here did.

  As we approached the end of the hallway, I slowed further. The third portrait from the end was the girl who should have come instead of Melina. The engraved plaque on the frame bore the words The Lost Princess Zita. Next was Talia’s portrait. She had olive skin like mine, curly golden-brown hair, and eyes shaped like Talin’s, though more green than his. And there was a softness to her gaze that made her appear gentle and kind. If it was a true likeness, the elders’ decision had been fair, I thought. And Mother would never have any idea how lucky she’d been.

  Ceren took a step toward the next portrait. He’d been observing me the whole time. “I thought perhaps you’d like to see how your own portrait looked.”

  I joined him in front of the painting, but before I could study it he turned me around to face him, so that the portrait and I were side by side.

  “The likeness is very good,” he said. He placed one long, pale finger against my jaw and tilted it to the right. “Yes. I was quite pleased when I saw whom your elders had cho
sen as my future wife. You looked strong and healthy. Though I must say, he got the eyes wrong. There’s a fire in them that the artist didn’t capture.”

  Fear coursed through me as his finger traveled up my cheekbone to the outer edge of my eye. When I blinked, a tear seeped out.

  He wiped it away and examined his fingertip for a moment. “Did you know that tears have approximately the same salt concentration in them as blood?” He put his finger to his lips absently and turned me around to face the painting. “What do you think, my lady? Did the artist do you justice? Or should I have him beheaded and use another artist the next time?”

  His words had faded into the background by now, the rush of blood in my head drowning them out. Because for the first time since leaving Varenia, I was staring at my beautiful sister. I was looking at Zadie.

  “You seem upset, my pearl,” Ceren said. “Is everything all right?”

  I forced myself to breathe deeply, though I was constrained by the dress Ebb had chosen for me: a tight black corset covered in iridescent feathers that fanned across my chest, leaving my neck and shoulders bare. I looked like a silly little bird, one who had willingly hopped into a gilded cage, only to find her wings had been clipped when she tried to fly away.

  “I’m fine. Just homesick, I suppose.”

  “And that is completely understandable. Come, I have one more portrait I’d like to show you.” He led me down another hallway into a large chamber. He stopped in front of a portrait of a pale woman with hair almost as fair as his own, framed in gold-leafed rosettes and scrollwork. Her gown was a luminous white, trimmed with lace and pearls. The only color in the painting was the pink of her lips and cheeks. I had to admire the artist who was able to paint that much detail in shades of ivory, eggshell, and bone.

  “My mother,” he said, confirming my suspicions. “She was beautiful, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I nodded. “I can’t help but notice she’s wearing white.”