The worst part was that even though Glais had only shared twelve years with his father, it was more than she had, or ever would have, with Trevain. And she wanted to know him so badly! She wished she could have felt one-tenth as loved by her father as Glais had been by Bain—but it was a technical impossibility. Not by death, but by decorum. Varia realized in horror that her only friend’s father had just died, and she felt jealous. Jealous that Glais had a single memory of his father looking at him, speaking directly to him. Even this was more than she could imagine if she tried her hardest. Her hand slipped away from the marble, falling weakly to her side.
Her birthright had been robbed; she would have been the princess of this beautiful city. She had been cheated out of everything by Prince Zalcan Hamnil, and she was seized by sudden realization that she deserved more. She had deserved more than being born jailed within ice and metal. Nothing was fair—both she and Glais deserved a better chance at life.
Worst of all, there was nothing she could do to change all that had happened.
“Varia? Varia!” She did not notice that Glais was shouting her name very close to her ear so that his voice could be heard in the water. Aazuria was shaking her shoulder, but Varia felt too much pain to move. Everything had hit her all at once; she felt like the whole city was crumbling around her with the roaring of her own wrath in her ears.
Aazuria made some quick gestures to Glais, before lifting her daughter up by the waist. She pulled Varia against her body and continued to swim forward, even though the eight-year-old was much too large to carry anymore. Underwater, her weight was easier to manage and Aazuria was strong enough to keep up the speed. Glais frowned as he swam beside the woman, staring at the younger girl with worry as she seemed to be semi-catatonic. He focused his attention back on navigating through the city. The streets were becoming more and more crowded; doubtlessly, submarines filled with workers from the bridge were arriving home. People seemed to be riled up in a mass chaotic upset, and Glais knew it was best to travel unseen.
Finally, they reached the easternmost wall of the city from which tunnels led to various suburbs. Glais indicated one murky tunnel that Aazuria did not remember ever having taken. She trusted the boy, and began to swim through the passageway. After what felt like about a nautical mile, she began to discern a dim glow in the distance. As they approached, she saw that the tunnel opened into a cavern that was filled with soft blue light reflecting off various crystals. She knew that the mineral called gypsum had naturally formed in these crystals to create these beautiful structures.
She stood in spellbound silence for a moment as she looked around, observing the natural wonder that overshadowed the finest human artwork. Just beholding the tranquil beauty of nature soothed her mind. In the center of the cavern, however, there was one man-made building.
“We should be safe here,” Glais told her. “This is Auntie Mel’s sanctuary.”
Aazuria was surprised at his choice of words, but she nodded, pushing Varia towards the boy. He immediately began to try to comfort the distressed girl to the best of his ability. Aazuria moved forward cautiously, examining the architecture of the house that was built purely from various types of crystals. She had never seen anything like this. The design held her so rapt that she was startled when several women began to exit the doorway, dressed in flowing green garments. Aazuria’s hands reached for the rifle attached to her back, which she immediately pointed at the women. All six women ignored the rifle, and continued to move forward, bowing deeply. One of them saluted across her chest before bending her knees and lowering her eyes until her fingers grazed the floor. She held the challenging position of the traditional royal curtsy before lifting her hands in speech.
“Queen Aazuria, the priestess of Sedna has been expecting you. She is honored to receive the prophesized Sapphire as her guest.”
Aazuria was shocked at this greeting so much that she gripped her gun more tightly. She turned her face toward Glais and mouthed several words to him quickly.
“Glais!” she said with her lips. “You told someone we were coming?”
“Queen Aazuria!” he responded in shock. “You didn’t tell me you were Queen Aazuria!”
“Who did you tell?” she demanded. “Are these women dangerous? Answer me quickly or I will kill all of them.”
“No! No, it’s the safest place in Adlivun. I didn’t tell anyone we were coming… my auntie has psychic powers that she has been developing for many centuries. I have some too, but I still can’t do anything other than predict the weather.” He lowered his eyes sheepishly. “Well, I can predict what’s going to happen in the next hour or so… if I’m looking at the sky. It’s easier if I’m also looking at a weather report.”
Aazuria released a gust of warm water in a gigantic sigh as she lowered her rifle. Once she swung it onto her back, she used a hand to rub the tension away from the side of her head. She turned to the religious women who she imagined were disciples of Glais’ aunt. The situation was becoming more complex. “I appreciate your welcome and gratefully accept the hospitality of your lady,” she answered.
“Please, my queen. Right this way,” the green-robed woman said with a gracious gesture.
Aazuria moved forward, followed by Glais and Varia, who had been startled out of her stupor by the potential danger. Varia had withdrawn her knife defensively like her mother had taught her, and given one to Glais as well. She did not know how to deal with the emotional burdens of being amidst people, but she knew how to fight them. It had been almost comforting to know that there was a potential fight at hand, for it had been too long since her mother had even had the time to train with her. She needed an outlet for her weakening anger, so that it would leak out of bones and let her be strong.
The three moved towards the crystalline house, gliding their bodies through the entryway. The room was empty except for the priestess who hovered in a lotus position in the water, with an extremely wide green skirt billowing out from her waist and nearly filling the entire room. Her eyes were covered with an ornately embroidered blindfold. Straightening from her meditative posture, the woman gave the traditional curtsy in perfect form, holding the posture for several seconds. Even though her vision was obscured, she lifted her hands to speak as though she could see her visitors as plain as day.
“My queen, my princess, and my nephew. Welcome to Gypsum Cavern, and please make yourselves at home. What is mine is yours. I am Mother Melusina Ikatere, priestess of Sedna and emissary of the sea.”
Aazuria exchanged uncomfortable looks with her daughter and Glais. She did not know if she should respond in sign language, and whether the woman would be able to understand her speech through her blindfold. She was startled when the brown-haired priestess laughed, sending little bubbles gliding upwards from her lips.
“Please feel at ease—allow yourselves to relax. You will require a respite before the coming war—the war to end all wars beneath the surface. Why not breathe easy while you still can?” the woman signed. “Take off those uncomfortable wigs which you both despise so much.”
Varia needed no more invitation than this, eagerly unclipping and ripping the cursed accessory from her scalp. She reached up to blissfully run her fingers through her natural white hair, allowing it to disperse freely in the water. Aazuria smiled to see that her daughter had gotten over her momentary shock—she felt guilty, knowing she had been too hard on Varia when she had requested that she not feel any emotion. The effort it had taken must have overwhelmed her, and Aazuria knew that she was responsible. She removed her own wig before moving to take her daughter’s and tucking them away in her satchel. She touched her daughter’s back reassuringly.
“You have silver hair of the royal Vellamo family,” Glais signed in shock. “The pure sea-dweller traits! You’re really the queen who was kidnapped ten years ago… and King Trevain’s daughter!”
Varia nodded slowly. “But my father cannot know or he will be really sad and upset. Please keep the secret
for us, Glais.”
Meanwhile, Aazuria was moving forward toward the priestess. She lifted her hands to speak in sign language, ignoring that the woman was blindfolded. “Mother Melusina, I thank you for your kindness. This is the first time I have felt at home in my country since I returned.”
“You are very welcome, Daughter of Sedna. I can see many questions dripping from your fingers like golden oil. I will tell you everything you wish to know, and even things you would never wish to know. You need only ask.”
“Why does everyone call me ‘The Sapphire?’” Aazuria questioned.
Mother Melusina rotated her body swiftly in the water, causing the dozens of yards of fabric of her dress to whirl around her, cocooning her body. She placed her arms out in a relaxed posture to either side, her palms turned upward, thumbs connecting with her forefingers. After a moment’s silence in this posture, her hands moved forward to sign with elegant, flourishing gestures.
“There are rumors in Adlivun that the ghost of the dead queen walks amongst her people again. It has been prophesized for years that in our time of greatest need, she who was taken from us would be returned by supernatural forces of the sea. She will stand for us, and she will speak for us, with sapphire eyes glinting at darkest midnight. From the bottom of the earth she will come, bringing the winds of liberation on her heels.”
“The bottom of the earth?” Aazuria repeated, feeling an icy quiver in her spinal column.
“Yes, dear. I believe that means Antarctica. That is where you were held prisoner, is it not?”
“Oh, dear Sedna,” Aazuria whispered, sighing and putting both of her hands in her hair. She knew that Varia had told no one. She turned to the children and signed instructions to them: “Varia, Glais—please go to another room of this house and get some rest while I talk to the priestess.”
“Yes, Mother,” Varia said compliantly. She shyly signed to Melusina. “I really like your dress.”
“Thank you, little one.” The priestess turned toward the doorway, and almost like clockwork, one of her disciples came to lead Varia and Glais away from the central room.
Aazuria frowned once the children had left, stepping forward angrily. “How did you know…”
“Please,” Melusina signed. “I know you are upset about Bain, but you must be calm if we are to go any further in this journey. We can go very, very far if only we both stand very, very still.”
“I apologize. Please tell me how you knew that I was in Antarctica.”
“The answer to that question is one you do not wish to hear. You may speak with your voice, my queen. I can understand you through the waves—they will tell me what you mean to say.”
“Please tell me how you knew, Mother Melusina. I have not told anyone about my past.”
“Five years ago, and five years after you were taken, King Trevain and the Princess Elandria came to me, requesting that I use my gifts to search the globe for you. I beseeched the waters to find you, and they whispered your location in my ear. I told your husband, but he refused to believe—he refused to open his mind, and he forsook you as dead. Ignoring my counsel, he married your sister.”
Closing her eyes briefly, Aazuria felt the familiar burn behind her eyes to indicate that tears were forming. Of course, being underwater, it did not actually look like she was crying, but she had a feeling that Melusina knew the truth of her tears. “He knew?” she whispered. “All that time, he knew?”
“Yes. When I learned this, I began to pray for your safe return. I prayed that you would escape with your daughter across the ice, but I was not powerful enough to protect you from such a vast distance. I must apologize for failing you, my queen.”
Aazuria shook her head, moving forward to clasp the woman’s hands tightly. “I never thought we would get home,” she whispered, sobbing into the water. “I felt so alone, and it’s good to know, even now—that someone had me in their thoughts. Thank you for your loyalty, and for your faith. I don’t understand your gifts, but I will believe in what you say from now on. I will heed all of your advice. Tell me what to do to save my people.”
“It is easy,” Melusina said slowly, allowing Aazuria to read her lips as she returned the pressure on the woman’s hands. “You must defeat the Clan of Zalcan.”
Aazuria stared blankly at the woman’s blindfold for a moment before nodding. “Um… Okay.”
“I will fight at your side with my disciples, the Sisters of Sedna. I will guide you through every obstacle, regardless of how impermeable and impassable. You must no longer be Aazuria Vellamo—you must accept the cards you have been dealt, and you must become the people’s champion; the Sapphire.”
“Just tell me what to do,” Aazuria murmured weakly.
“I will, once I have churned the foggy waters. Would you please remove your bulletproof vest? I will be able to advise you more thoroughly.”
Nodding, Aazuria unbuttoned her damaged blouse and shrugged out of the fabric. She hastily tugged the waterproof Kevlar vest off her torso. Once her chest was bared, she stood in only her bra, wondering what the priestess was about to do. Before she could even make a few mental guesses, the palm of the woman’s hand flung outward, colliding with Aazuria’s breastbone and knocking the wind out of her.
“I need to read your lungs,” the woman’s lips indicated.
“I know you!” Aazuria said with surprise as the motion clicked in her mind. “I know who you are. We have met before.”
“That is so,” Melusina responded. She used her free hand to remove her blindfold, revealing eyeballs that were completely white. “I was wondering if you would remember me.”
Chapter 8: Whaleshit into Lemonade
Skimming hungrily through the pages on the screen, Visola did not look up from her electronic reader when her husband entered their bedroom.
“Hey, zucchini fettuccini,” she mumbled as she continued reading. “This is really good stuff.”
Vachlan screwed up his face, staggered by her diction. “Okay, Viso. There is no way you came up with that on the spot. You must think of those things in advance.”
“’Course I do,” she answered as she flipped the virtual page and continued reading. “I make a mental list of interesting things to call you as I go through my day. I saw a zucchini earlier and thought of you. Hey, is this character inspired by me? Because she’s starting to act like a lunatic and I don’t like her.”
“All my characters are inspired by you,” he answered, observing her facial expressions as she read. “You have enough personalities in that head of yours to keep my writing fresh until I have written my final word.”
She was quiet for a few minutes, continuing to read the next few paragraphs hungrily. She had not been listening to him, but upon finishing she was able to access what seemed to be an audio recording in her brain that precisely replayed his sentences. “Good,” she said, in a delayed reaction. “I would be jealous if you found anyone else more interesting than me.”
“An impossibility, my dear. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Wait, wait. I’m getting to a good part here and I want to see what happens. Lucinda is really making me get all introspective and question my evil ways. I need a moment alone to experience a personal epiphany.”
Vachlan dutifully waited for the duration of a whole moment.
“That was nice,” Visola said, sighing once she closed the file. She immediately gave all her attention to her husband instead of his art. “So what did you want to tell me, shish-kebab?”
He twisted his lips in a frown. “I’m really sorry, Viso. It’s about one of your Ducklings.”
“Damn,” she swore, rising to her feet. “Don’t tell me—Takeshi? Boy had no confidence. I wouldn’t be surprised if…”
“No. Not him.”
“Oh, shit. No. Shit, shit, shit!” Visola seemed to be looking around for the nearest object to demolish, and Vachlan quickly removed his laptop from her reach. “No! Fuck, Vachlan. Do not tell me it was Bain.�
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The man sighed. “Why would anyone be shot in the head unless he had a young son who adored him, waiting for him to come home? It wouldn’t be dramatic enough. Incidentally, it sweetens the pot that Glais has been orphaned by the event.”
“This isn’t one of your stories, Vachlan,” she said sitting back down on the bed in exhaustion. “Bain wasn’t a literary device meant to move a fucking plot along. He was a man. He was a lovable, handsome man with tons of potential and heart. And Glais. Oh, Sedna.”
Vachlan wanted to move to her side, but he knew it was not their style. “There’s more, Visola.”
“Of course there is—but did you know Glais is only twelve years old? For a boy of his age, you should see him fight. His dad used to bring him around sometimes and he could hold his own against guys twice his size and ten times his age.” Visola adjusted her tone of voice to the universal whine of a pleading woman. “Vach-lannn…”
“No, and again no!” he said in a harsh, finite tone. Then he abruptly relaxed. “Sorry, I had to object really quickly before my insides turned to mush under the power of your puppy-dog-eyes and I gave you whatever you wanted. So let me guess; you want to adopt the boy?”
Her expression was pleading. “He’s not just any boy.”
“I know.”
“When we left Australia, you took Namaka,” Visola reminded him. “You raised her to be your own personal little spy, and you even used her as a weapon against me! If I could have the chance to teach Glais—”
“We’ll consider it later, after I tell you my other important news. By ‘consider it,’ of course, I mean that I will probably give you anything you want with a few feebly voiced protests that I am obligated to articulate. Now, for the part that will really make you upset: a mermaid working on the bridge started a revolution after Bain Tangaroa was killed.”
“A revolution?”
Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4) Page 92
