Oceanborn

by Amalie Howard

  “You should be the one to be exiled,” someone says from the middle of the throng. Silence descends as quickly as death in the room.

  “Who dares speak?” Echlios growls in a rage, but I don’t have to ask to know. I already know who has spoken, and my heart sinks. The crowd parts as a single Aquarathi steps forward, his face defiant with ferocious scarlet color rippling down his ebony torso.

  Nova.

  “What are you doing, son?” Echlios says in disbelief. “You are a Queen’s Guard.”

  “First of all, I’m not your son.” He sneers, walking forward to join the others at the front. “Your son is a weak, spineless, sorry excuse for an Aquarathi.”

  I spare a glance to Speio, who has gone rigid, his face devoid of any emotion.

  “Second, I resign from my post as Queen’s Guard. So does my sister.”

  Nell steps forward to stand at her brother’s side with icy black eyes filled with contempt. “We refuse to serve a queen who defiles herself with half-breeds, allows traitors to the crown to go free and fraternizes with humans, flaunting our secrets.”

  The silence in the room erupts into thunder as everyone shouts at once at Nell’s stunning admission. I close my eyes with a sigh—my people won’t understand what Jenna means to me. I can’t glimmer them all as I’d done with my guard to show what she has done for all of us, nor why I chose to disclose the truth of what we are to her. To them, I’ve broken one of our most stringent laws. Others have been punished for less.

  “Tell them, my queen,” Nova scoffs, nearly spitting the last word. “Tell them that you showed a feeble human what you are. Tell them that you transformed in front of her. Tell them that you repeatedly break our laws to protect the humans you so love instead of your own people!”

  “You’re out of line, Nova,” Lo says in a deadly voice.

  “Ah, look, the half-breed speaks,” Nova jeers. “You have no voice here. You are not oceanborn.”

  “But I am,” I say. My voice shakes the rock surrounding us. “This was my father’s throne.” I gesture to Lo. “He is the regent by my choice, and you will bow to him.”

  “I will not.”

  “Bow.” My voice is terrible, as is the furious power tearing through me like a tsunami. I wrench him down with a flick of my mind, my glimmer twisting into him like a pronged spear. Everyone watches as Nova’s neck touches the floor, a keening sound bursting from his lips as I hold him there with lethal force. Just a little more, and his bones will shatter. My rage is all-consuming, daring me to do just that.

  “Nerissa.” The word is barely a whisper against the back of my neck from the prince at my side. Stop this, my love. You’re doing what he wants. He wants you to show that you’re not in control, especially with me. Release him. It doesn’t matter to me what any of them think about me. It only matters what you think. Don’t do this in anger—it’s something you will regret, and you’ll lose the trust of those who still believe you to be the rightful queen. Let him go, Riss.

  With a shattered breath, I dissipate the glimmer and release my iron hold on Nova, who struggles to his feet with the help of his sister. His smile is provoking, and all I want to do is lash out, but I understand that it’s emotion—the human emotion that Echlios predicted would be my new weakness. I survey the grim faces of my court with Lo’s support swirling at my back. There’s too much negativity now for me to say anything to defend myself. I have to show them. I have to show them everything.

  But I choose to start with words. I raise my voice, reaching every corner. “You believe I’m unfit to lead, when everything I have done has been to protect you. My father was murdered, and I served you his murderer, a queen of the Ruby Court. I battled her on the sands of Waterfell, and I won. She built an army of hybrids to find me on land, and to take Waterfell by force through its sole heir with a hybrid prince of her own. But in the end, he, too, chose me...and chose to defend you and Waterfell against his own mother. You saw this, and that alone deserves your loyalty. Yet the minute you discovered what he is, you turned your backs on him. You deemed him an outcast. Not oceanborn.” I swallow hard. “He may not have been born here, but his heart and allegiance are here, and that should be enough.

  “As for the human to whom I’ve entrusted the secret of our existence without your sanction, it is true. She has seen everything there is to see about who we are.” I flick my tail at the sudden twittering, fiery greenish-gold lights illuminating across my brow in warning. “That was my choice, and I stand by it. Without this feeble human, you would not have a queen. Or likely a home.”

  “Lies,” someone yells out.

  “I have no reason to deceive you,” I say. “But if you don’t trust my words, then trust what you see. Decide for yourselves.”

  With a deep breath, I absorb Lo’s gently given strength, amassing all of the energy at my core. It may not be enough, but it’ll have to do. I close my eyes, only to feel the glimmers of Echlios, Soren and Speio join me, and then the combined strength of the few remaining faithful Queen’s Guards who already know the truth. The power rushes out of me like shimmery golden dust, connecting each of the Aquarathi standing before me. As I’d done before with the guards, I show my people exactly what happened and the part Jenna played in all of it.

  While connected, I also feel the truth in what Speio said to me about my people’s collective fear and insecurity. They’re afraid for the future. They’re afraid of Lo, and what he means to our existence. Most of all, they fear the humans and what it would mean for them to discover who we are. It’ll be Sana—our old, dead planet—once again. Our people coexisted with humanlike creatures once, and they betrayed us and poisoned our planet. Earth has become our home. They can’t afford to lose this one, too.

  Before I let go of the glimmer, I separate my energy from Lo and the others behind me and offer it to my people. I fill it with calm and peace and acceptance. I fill it with forgiveness and hope. I fill it with love, an emotion that many of them will never know. Sanctum is my gift to them. Afterward, I sag backward, my body nearly colliding with Lo’s. The silence in the great hall is thick and heavy.

  “Now you know the truth. Decide if you think my action was unforgivable.”

  “You value a human more than your own kind.” Nova is the first to speak, his eyes flashing angry black fire at the lack of response from the rest of the Aquarathi. His rage makes him immune to reason. “You must pay the price.”

  “I value her more than most,” I agree. “Human or Aquarathi.”

  “She is not one of us,” he seethes.

  “One of us?” I ask. “What does that even mean? We live on this planet together. We share it with the humans. At least one of them is fighting for us—fighting to keep our waters clean and our home safe. She accepts me for everything that I am without expecting anything in return. Is it so hard for us to do the same?”

  “We can’t trust them.”

  “I can’t trust anyone,” I say softly. “Not even my own guard. Not even one bound by a blood oath to defend his queen. What do you say to that, Nova? What is the price of such a betrayal?”

  “Execution,” Verren, the Sapphire Court king, rumbles.

  Nova’s eyes narrow as if he didn’t expect this turn of events. I can feel his fear rippling through the water. Before anyone can guess what he’s about to do, he snarls and darts toward me with outstretched claws. I prepare to defend myself, but a white-gold shape speeds past me like a bullet to collide head-on with Nova. They both go skidding into the crowd. The silvery Aquarathi is a beastly blur of tail, claws and teeth.

  “Is that—” Lo breathes.

  “Speio,” I say, watching in stupefied silence as Speio nearly rips off half of Nova’s jaw. Echlios moves to intervene, but I stop him with a barely audible click. This is Speio’s fight to finish.

  “I’m not weak, you piece of sh
it,” Speio growls, sitting astride Nova’s recoiling body. “The difference between us is that I understand respect, I understand my place and I trust my queen. The truth is, I’d rather be spineless than anything like you. You’re a disgrace to the Aquarathi.”

  Nova bares his teeth in a bloody grin. “If that’s so, why do so many of them agree with me? The queen is a fraud who pretends she’s human and cares naught for her people. That’s why she’s with a filthy hybrid.”

  “Shut up,” Speio says, crushing a taloned forearm into Nova’s windpipe. “You know nothing.”

  A blooming wave of chatter makes its way around the room, once more rising to deafening proportions. Jenna’s words fill my head, and suddenly I realize what she has been trying to tell me about choices all along. It’s not about doing one or the other for the sake of the choice.... It’s about doing what’s right. And I know what I have to do.

  “I am your queen by right and by birth,” I begin. “The true heir cannot be challenged for the crown—this is our law, and it is beyond contestation.”

  I survey my people, sadness swelling inside me at what I’m about to do. My father once told me that part of being a leader is knowing when to withdraw. Perhaps this is what he meant. I address all of the Aquarathi in the room. “However, if you truly cannot accept me as your queen and if it will put all of your fears at rest, I will abdicate my rule to Queen Miral, next in line from the Gold Court.”

  “My lady,” Echlios says swiftly. “No, you cannot. Your father—”

  “Told me to be a worthy queen,” I say. “If someone else can lead the Aquarathi people better, then I am all for it. This is the right thing to do, Echlios. I told you before. I won’t give up Lo, and if the Aquarathi cannot accept me because of it, then so be it. I felt their fear of him. Of me...of what I’ve become.”

  “Nerissa,” Lo says softly. “I cannot let you do this for me.”

  I brush his face with mine, wanting to lose myself in him for a moment. “This choice was made the second we bonded. It cannot be undone, nor would I want it to be.”

  “Then the Aquarathi are fools,” Echlios says. “My queen, still, you cannot give up the throne. It is your legacy.”

  “Echlios, if this is what the people want, I will step aside.” I smile a little sadly. “A throne is a thing. My father’s legacy is in here.” I tap my heart. “Now come, we have worse things to worry about than this.” I remember Ehmora’s words from my dream several nights ago, and I suppress a shudder. “War is coming.”

  “But this is our home.”

  “This will always be your home, Echlios.” I meet Lo’s melting eyes, the jeweled color of the ocean around us, and smile. “I’d choose a life of exile with Lo over one without him.”

  “But Waterfell...”

  “Will survive. We’ve survived millennia of change. Whether I am its queen will make little difference. Someone else will rule, and hopefully well. In the end, one cannot fight for something that doesn’t want to be won.” I stare at my family and my Queen’s Guard. “You may all stay here, should you so choose. I release you from your oaths.”

  But instead of leaving, one by one—Speio, Soren, Echlios, Doras, Mae, Su and Erathion—they each bow to me in front of all the courts of Waterfell, baring their necks to me in undying fealty. “Then we are exiles, too.”

  “Wait!” someone yells.

  I turn as a young male Aquarathi with fiery orange skin and green fins approaches us. Electric green lights shimmer along his body. Carden. Emerald Court. Recognition tingles in my mind as he makes himself known to me—the Emerald Court boy who had questioned my rule.

  “Weren’t you one of the ones who didn’t want a queen bonded to a hybrid because he wasn’t oceanborn?” I ask mildly.

  He bows and I nod for him to speak. “I felt what you made us feel before. Sanctum. I want to come with you.”

  “You realize you will be considered an exile?”

  Carden nods thoughtfully. “I think we should believe in the humans, too. I think without them we have no future. I want to help. I don’t want to stay here with my head buried in the sand and do nothing.”

  “Very well,” I say to Doras. “Your replacement for Nova.”

  My eyes fall on Nova and Nell, still watching me from the sidelines. Jenna was right—there are always those who covet power because they believe that they are more fit to wield it. But power is corrosive, and in the wrong hands, it can only corrupt. I feel sorry for Nova now—sorry for where his choices have taken him.

  “Come on,” I say with a grim smile. “We’re ten Aquarathi strong. Let’s go. We have a hybrid army to take down.”

  21

  Catch and No Release

  The Marine Center looks like a different place. Multicolored party lights are strung up in the parking lot over various booths with different groups offering contests and games to raise money as well as petitions for safer conservation zones, plastics regulation, world oceans day, seismic testing, oil-spill cleanup, marine pollution and the like. It’s amazing and humbling to see all these groups uniting with one common goal—ocean health. Despite the looming threat of Cano, everything has come together without a hitch.

  The tanks and pools on the inside are all spotlighted with colored lighting, and the seals and sea lions are shameless, showing off for the public. Even the injured ones are coming out for a peep to see all the people who’ve come to support them. Dozens of smaller tanks housing rescued or hurt animals have name tags and explanations as to how they came to be at the center. Luca, a shy leatherback turtle, peeks out from his shell. His card reads that he was found with a cracked shell and a broken flipper. With clamps in place helping his bone to heal, Luca is due to be released next spring.

  “This is Shaman,” one of our guides is explaining to a group of middle school kids on a tour around the glass-enclosed working areas. “He’s a six-month-old sea lion. The lacerations on his nose and neck are because he got tangled up in some discarded fishing line, which is why it’s so important to keep plastics out of our oceans.” The guided tour takes guests through the hospital, research and education wings, as well as to the rehabilitation and release annex.

  In the outer section of the center where the saltwater tanks are, the dolphins are the main attraction. Viewable from a platform, another tour guide is telling the story of Sadie and Eragon, two bottle-nosed dolphins who are temporarily living with us. Sadie was attacked by a shark and lost part of her dorsal fin, and Eragon—named by Kevin—was found nearly half-dead with skull damage after a fishing boat collision. Both are well on their way to recovery.

  Stooping at the side of a cordoned-off area, I put my hand in the water and pulse softly. Within seconds, the slippery nose of our third resident dolphin butts up against my palm. Margo doesn’t like people too much and gets skittish with crowds. Sure enough, she’s trembling. I run my hands across her slick rubbery skin around the blowhole, letting my water soothe hers. She, like Shaman, was caught in abandoned fishing debris and had been beached. She was manhandled by a bunch of tourists who were more interested in snapping pictures than helping, and as a result, has a healthy fear of people. I’m the only one she lets close—but then again, I’m not really people.

  “Hang in there, Margo,” I tell her. “This is all for your benefit. It’ll be over soon.”

  The crowning glory of the event is a massive stage on the neighboring beachside Ellen Browning Scripps Park for later tonight. I have no idea how Cara was able to pull it off, but she managed to get a bunch of popular recording artists to do a pro bono concert on crazy short notice, including a British boy band that is apparently an international sensation. Tickets sold out in a matter of minutes once they were posted online. I have to hand it to her—she made this all happen.

  “What do you think?” she asks me, putting the finishing touches on the some raff
le baskets near the entrance.

  I shake my head, awed. “How’d you manage to get an event permit application in and approved so quickly from the Parks and Rec Department? And how did you get all these guys to come and perform for free?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Well, however you did it, it’s amazing,” I say honestly. “I never expected it to become such a big deal.” If it’d been up to me, we’d be having a bake sale along with a few guided tours before having a bonfire on the beach. It wouldn’t be an event on this kind of scale with so much media attention.

  “Bigger is better,” Cara says, tying a bow with a flourish. “Especially when it comes to animals. They don’t have a voice. I like to give them one. When many people join in, those voices get heard by the people in power who can make things happen.”

  Suddenly it’s like I’m seeing Cara in a new light. I hadn’t really given her a chance because of our shaky history after our freshman year, or gotten to know what makes her tick. “That’s really cool, Cara. I mean it.”

  “Thanks.” She turns to me, hesitant at first but then more confident at my encouraging look. “You know, that’s how Lo and I first met. He was volunteering for a pet-adoption drive for a charity I work with at the cancer hospital. We ended up doing a lot of things like this to raise awareness for abandoned or injured animals,” she says with a smile. “I do a lot for the SPCA. Lo leans toward the ocean-conservancy side of things, like you.”

  Despite the twinge in my stomach at the mention of cancer, I smile back. Cara’s mother died from the disease, which put her into foster care—and Cano’s hands—for most of her life. “Well, I couldn’t have done any of this without you,” I say. “So thank you.” An odd silence falls between us—not an awkward one, a comfortable one. I reach for one of the unfinished raffle baskets, taking the proverbial olive branch that she extended. “So, do you volunteer a lot?”