This coaxed a smile out of the wounded woman, and Visola continued in a serious tone. “I promise you that from your greatest defeat will come your greatest victory. I promise you this. We need adversity to keep us on our toes. We need to be challenged and broken in order to rebuild bigger than before. We’ll get past this together.”
“Oh, Viso,” Amabie said, as her lashes brimmed with saltwater droplets.
“You and I are warrior women—the last of our kind, perhaps. We need to go out with a bang, not a whimper. Am I right?”
Queen Amabie nodded feebly.
Visola was startled when she heard a splashing noise, and saw two men emerging from the spring. She was surprised that Marshal Landou had been able to hold his breath long enough to make the dive, but it had taken them so long that she imagined they had made several efforts before being successful.
“Maggots!” she suddenly shouted.
“What did you call us?” Landou asked with surprise.
“Queen Amabie has badly infected gashes in her legs. I seem to recall my sister using maggots to eat away at the dead tissue and promote healing. We need to stuff her wounds with maggots to take care of the gangrene while we’re transporting her to the hospital. Go find me some maggots while I take her to the plane.”
“Let me help,” Vachlan said, going to Visola and scooping Queen Amabie up into his arms. Visola felt the equivalent sensation of loss that a wife might have when her husband offered to hold shopping bags filled with sacrosanct treasures she was not yet ready to part with. Vachlan turned to Yamako and gestured with his head. “Let’s get the hell out of Japan. It’s not safe”
Queen Amabie began speaking to the man who was now holding her. “Vachlan, please know that I am sorry…”
“Look, Lady. Forget the pleasantries and focus on staying alive.”
Chapter 11: She was Fine
“You are a brutal woman, Visola. You have placed crawling insects inside my flesh.”
“Hey, those friendly little critters are helping us out,” Visola said with a grin. Queen Amabie had fallen asleep during the flight, but the landing had awoken her. “Plus, they look really fashionable… they’re like tiny little haute couture accessories. Right Yama?”
“Right,” said Yamako skeptically, as she stared at the wounds in disgust. “They do seem to be doing their job.”
“Ruthless woman. She mocks me,” Queen Amabie murmured. “Are you going to joke about this forever, Visola?”
“Of course. We’ll reminisce about how your life was saved by creepy-crawlies, and laugh hysterically about it as we pound back the sake. And you’ll beat me in a gazillion drinking contests, and I’ll blame it on the maggots—I’ll say they gave you superpowers, and it wasn’t fair.”
Queen Amabie smiled uncertainly. “I look forward to it, my friend.”
Landou and Vachlan entered the cabin. “The paramedics are outside and ready to take her to the hospital,” Landou said. Yamako gave a little sigh of relief.
Vachlan was already moving to Visola’s side to pick up the Japanese queen. He lifted her gently, and swiftly carried her out of the plane. Visola followed on his heels along with Amabie’s daughter.
“Marshal Landou,” said a soldier on the ground as Amabie was placed on her stretcher. The paramedics began wheeling the queen away as the man continued speaking. “I have news for the Adluvian general.”
Visola remembered Landou giving this man secret orders before they had left for Japan. Her eyes narrowed and a chill ran through her shoulders when she saw the soldier’s expression.
“What is it Colonel?” Landou asked.
The man removed his hat respectfully, and Visola blinked disbelievingly. She felt like her body temperature had instantly dropped ten degrees. She had seen it a million times; the exaggeratedly courteous delivery.
“I am so sorry. General Ramaris, I regret to have to tell you this, but Alice Murphy…”
“Stop,” Visola said. Her eyes darted back and forth between Landou’s face and the Colonel. She looked for any information written in their eyes. Both men were expressionless. Or trying to be as expressionless as possible.
“I’m so sorry, General Ramaris, but…”
“Stop. No.” Visola said, deadpan. She slowly raised a finger. “My daughter was fine…”
“She was, but then…”
“Do I look like a fucking idiot? Stop!” Visola shouted to the paramedics toting away the wounded queen. “Stop! Bring her back.”
“What are you doing?” Marshal Landou asked. “Queen Amabie needs medical attention…”
Vachlan had been staring at this exchange speechlessly, but now he cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “Viso, think about this. She’s critical. Forget her legs; she could lose her life. She needs a modern hospital, now.”
“No. Trust me. No.”
“I’m sorry, Visola,” Marshal Landou said gently, “but you really have to do what’s right for…”
Visola’s words were quicker, sharper, and more decisive than ever before. “Marshal Landou, I appreciate your concern and I am grateful for your help on this mission. But I entrusted my daughter to you and I am not making the mistake of leaving my friend in your care as well.”
With that, Visola marched after the stretcher that her friend was on, and lifted Amabie into her arms. She turned to the queen’s daughter and spoke in a stern and official voice. “Are you with me, Princess Yamako?”
The Japanese woman saluted Visola instantly. “Yes, General Ramaris. I have utter confidence in Sionna.”
“Okay,” Vachlan said, in a shaky voice. “I am going to go to the hospital to collect Alcyone’s body and investigate.”
“Thank you.” Visola gave her husband an adamant look. “She was fine.”
“I know. I will figure out what happened.”
“I don’t understand,” Landou said angrily. “I sacrificed two dozen expertly-trained men for a special task force to rescue Queen Amabie. Now you’re just going to toss her life away?”
“No,” Visola said. “Thank you for your help. Queen Amabie is coming home with me where she will be cared for by the only person in the world I trust. The woman who shares my DNA.”
“There was nothing we could do. It was very sudden, and she didn’t suffer.”
“Sure,” said Vachlan numbly as he stared at his daughter’s pallid corpse. It looked like it had been due to natural causes. “I’m going to have to take the body with me.”
“That’s fine. Also—she left a note.”
“Thank you. I’ll give it to her mother.”
“No, sir. The note is for you.”
Vachlan frowned, and took the envelope from the doctor. Indeed, his name was written on the crisp white paper. He studied the fine cursive script, and the tilt of her lettering. It occurred to him that this was the first time he had seen his daughter’s handwriting. On her death note. This disturbing thought caused tears to prick the back of his eyes, and he frowned harder to try and detain their flow.
The doctor reached out and placed a hand on Vachlan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Vachlan nodded, and was grateful when the doctor left the room to give him his privacy. He stared at the handwriting on the envelope for what felt like several whole minutes. He thought back to his own childhood when his mother had taught him how to write. Handwriting had been an essential skill when he was a boy. He remembered the scraggly, horrible scrawls he had produced at first, and how his mother had kept them with pride to later show him his first writings. He had been embarrassed, and he had thought that she was mocking him, but now he understood. Now, he wanted more than anything to see his own daughter’s childish scrawls of learning, and not this perfected inscription of completion.
Her life could not be complete. It had only just begun, for him at least. He had witnessed none of it. He could not even picture her smile. She had never smiled at him. Vachlan bit down on his lip and forced himself to flip over the envelop
e. As a habit, he carefully examined it, and noticed that it looked as though it might have been opened before. He dismissed this and pulled a knife from his sleeve to deftly use as a letter opener. He carefully slid the missive out and unfolded the paper.
Vachlan,
Please forgive me for the callous way I have treated you. Of course, you and Mother were correct that I should have forgiven you and spoken to you while I had the chance. I am writing this letter because I believe I don’t have very much time left.
So many years passed without you being a part of my life, and my one regret as I lie on my deathbed is that I never got to know you when I had the chance. Or spent a single minute looking at you. Never even touched you or gave you a hug. Even if I was upset, I really should have pushed my pride aside and shown you some kindness. Death is frightening, and it quickly makes you realize the error of your ways when the end is so near…
He closed the letter. He could not read any more.
Chapter 12: Dash of Seasoning
“If it had happened this time last year, I probably wouldn’t have cared,” Callder said, as he stared at an ice sculpture. “I probably wouldn’t have noticed. Why does it have to be that way?”
Brynne leaned against her husband, resting her forehead against his cheek. The two were sitting on a bench in a garden filled with art from Adlivun’s finest ice sculptors. Directly before them was an intricately carved swan flapping its wings behind it majestically. Callder had been trying to melt the bird with his eyes for over half an hour.
Sighing, Brynne pulled her heavy shawl closer around her shoulders. “At least we got to know her and spend time with her before she died. I think in these last few months I grew closer to Mrs. Murphy than I ever was to my own mom.”
“You don’t understand. I grew up thinking that she was just some nutcase in a loony bin. She was put away because my dad found her trying to ‘drown’ me in a bathtub filled with water. Every time I saw some crazy lady do that in a horror movie, or when I heard on the news that some wacko from Texas had drowned her five kids in a bathtub… I felt sick. I felt like that could have been me. I hated my mom because I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me. I knew that I wasn’t the greatest kid, but just to think that she had tried to kill me...”
“Callder, no one had any clue that you could breathe underwater,” Brynne said as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Trevain didn’t even know, and he’s a whole lot smarter than you.”
“Yeah. But I could have gone to visit her and talked to her to find out what happened. Anyway, it’s just really hard now knowing that she was so cool and…” Callder reached down and squeezed Brynne’s bicep firmly. “She was just really cool, B. I never knew my mom was so wicked, and then as soon as I find out… bam. She’s gone. Just like my dad.”
Brynne was quiet for a moment as she leaned against her lover. When she spoke, her voice did not have its usual brash and bawdy tone. “Things are really bad here, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. I’m worried about my brother.”
“Do you want to move back to Soldotna?” Brynne asked him gently. “We could stay at Trevain’s place, or my apartment…”
“No,” Callder said firmly. “I feel at home here. I mean, unless you feel uncomfortable needing to use the scuba suit and all?”
“I love it here,” Brynne admitted. “Even though horrible things are happening, I feel such a sense of family. Even though I’m an outsider, everyone has been so kind—I don’t feel alone. I would fight for these people. I would break out my oxygen tank and fight for them.”
“I know what you mean,” Callder said, gently rubbing his wife’s back as he continued to stare down the translucent swan.
Soft footsteps were heard, and Brynne pulled away from Callder to see who was approaching. It was Naclana, the messenger mermaid.
He gave them both a shallow bow before speaking. “Princess Elandria has a gift for both of you. After assigning a skilled and sizeable workforce to tackle the grueling construction, and pressing them to grind it out in time for the APEC conference, her new palace is complete. She has allocated a wing for your convenience.”
“Wow, really? Elandria is so sweet to accommodate my disabled landlubber lungs.” Brynne placed her hands on her chest, conscious of the incompetence. "You know, it’s hard seeing you guys stay submerged without complex apparatuses attached to you. I imagine you feel so free. I envy you more than a little.”
“I do not feel free,” Naclana responded wryly. “Will you visit the new palace?”
“Sure!” Brynne said with excitement as she stood up. “Coming, Calzone?”
“You go. I’ll stay here for a bit more.”
“What on earth is this?” Visola asked as she stared up at the newly completed structure. She was the last to behold its grandeur. Having been deemed unfit to lead training sessions with her army after several aggressive outbursts, she had spent the past week wandering aimlessly through the networks of tunnels on the outskirts of Adlivun. She was more exhausted and irritable than ever. Vachlan had found her and coaxed her into going above the glacier to see something supposedly special.
“I have established a fortress for us,” Elandria explained.
“Fortress?” Visola asked with a raised eyebrow. “Wow. Hearing you speak so confidently is freaking me out.”
“I have changed. I am taking action.”
“I can see that, girlfriend.” Visola raised her eyebrow. “But you should have consulted us first. Living above sea level is against the tenets…”
“Who cares?” her husband interrupted. “The tenets were stupid and antiquated, and they needed breaking. Elandria has done some remarkable work. This is perfect.”
Visola turned her head to him sharply. “You’re taking her side? You’re not standing up for me in this?”
“Visola, darling. Look at this palace—it’s a stroke of genius.” Vachlan gestured to the edifice with both hands. “It’s just what we needed for the conference. There are ice hotels in Canada, Sweden, Finland, and Norway. They’re quite fashionable novelty destinations.”
Elandria nodded solemnly. “The aim of hospitality is not to bombard your guests with something bizarre and new, but to nurture them with something familiar and comfortable.”
“Are you ashamed of being sea-dwellers? They could have travelled down to the existing palace in their submarines. We could have shown them our customs—our traditions are beautiful,” Visola said with a frown.
“Of course,” Elandria said, “but instead of forcing them into our ways, we can graciously cater to their ways. Remember, we’re asking them for help. We need to demonstrate how similar to them we are. It will be easier if we only include mere snippets of Adlivun’s flavor instead of plunging them in headfirst.”
“You want to give them Adlivun like it’s a spice? A dash of seasoning?” Visola spat the words out bitterly. “Fuck, honey. Don’t defile us like this—Adlivun is the whole damned entrée. No, it’s a full-fucking five-course meal. I’m talkin’ soup, salad, dessert, all of it. The whole enchilada. Not the guacamole on the side of the enchilada. Got it? Good Sedna!”
Visola snorted before swiveling to march away angrily.
“She’s losing it,” Vachlan observed softly.
“We’re losing her,” Elandria responded, “and that will be the end of everything. Adlivun was a sphere which stood on the shoulders of two pillars only; those stalwarts were Aazuria and Visola. It was true even when my father was alive. You know this, Destroyer.”
“It’s ‘advisor’ now, Elan. I believe that this palace is just the beginning of your capabilities. It’s an outstanding start to you taking on the role of supporting our world. Queen Aazuria would be proud,” Vachlan told her.
Elandria stared blankly at the palace. “I am but a pathetic twig pretending to be an oak tree. It shall be fine until I snap. We need Visola—go to her. Do all that you can to keep her together.”
“I will,” Vachlan said b
owing. He turned to leave and then turned back. “Princess Elandria? It doesn’t have to be only two pillars. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Trevain’s doing all he can too. I understand that my track record scares you, but don’t be afraid to depend on me. If there’s anything you need; I’m here.”
“I appreciate that, Vachlan.”
“I’m still surprised she remembered to use the maggots,” Sionna admitted, “but that’s exactly what I would have done. Queen Amabie is going to be fine, but it was a close one. There were many days I considered going through with the amputation, but Yama begged me not to.”
“That’s good news,” Trevain said, nodding as they waited together. He was holding a gigantic bundle of white fur in his arms. Time always seemed to pass more slowly when waiting for a woman to get ready. He hated having time to think. “Aunt Sio, if I may ask your personal opinion—do you think that my mother was murdered?”
Sionna chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “Well, I examined Alcyone thoroughly from head to toe and I couldn’t find any sign of foul play. There were no traces of anything unusual in her blood. In all likelihood it was natural, and Viso is just overreacting.”
“That’s your professional opinion. I asked for the personal one.”
Sionna glanced at Trevain furtively. “You’re getting to know me a bit better, aren’t you kid?”
“I know that you’re avoiding the question.”
She sighed. “Trevain, I just don’t want you to act on misinformation. We have no proof of anything. But if you really want my honest personal opinion: even though my sister seems to have gone off the deep end, I trust her implicitly. I may insult her and squabble with her, but I love that woman. She doesn’t even know it, but she’s the better half.” Sionna’s features softened as she stared at the former sea captain. She lowered her voice and spoke with a tone of magnitude. “If I have learned one thing about Visola in over five hundred years of growing up with her, working with her, trying to keep up with her, and occasionally trying to be her, it is this: you should never take her words lightly.”
Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 72
