Ice Kingdom

by Tiana Warner

  My stomach twisted. I still had not told Meela about Nilus. The knowledge that her big brother was alive swelled in my conscience, growing worse with each passing day. After finding out days prior, I’d sworn I would tell her as soon as I got a chance. Now, several chances seemed to have come and gone, and still I couldn’t bring it up. All these years, Meela had assumed her brother was dead. I was the only one who knew he was alive and that he was a merman.

  The problem was that I didn’t know where Nilus was, if he’d been captured, or worse. What if I told Meela he was alive and then we found out he’d been killed since I last saw him? I would be dropping a bomb on her for nothing. She had already been through so much in the last few days—forced to abandon everything she knew and everyone she loved. I couldn’t put more stress on her.

  “We’re all former humans, aren’t we, ‘ey?” said the merman.

  “You are—I mean—we are?” I said.

  “Except maybe her.”

  He nodded towards the end of the group, where a mermaid with a bright orange and blue tail swam a little apart from everyone else.

  My heart leapt. That was a southern mermaid. She was like the ones I’d seen from the Moonless City. Like the Reinas.

  “Wait,” said Meela, apparently struggling with her thoughts. “How can you … Sure, people are overfishing, but you said Adaro is keeping everyone in Utopia on a curfew. Food shortages in Utopia have nothing to do with humans—”

  I jabbed her in the ribs. This wasn’t the time for anti-Adaro arguments. She waved me away and pressed on.

  “The reason people are killing mermaids on beaches is because the mermaids are trying to eat them!”

  “Meela,” I said sharply.

  “What? You don’t think this is—?”

  “We can talk about this later. Just shut up.”

  She shot me a glare. I glared back. We didn’t need to get ourselves or anyone else in trouble for conspiracy. By the looks of it, these merpeople had already experienced brutal treatment. My heart ached for them. Soon, in the painful depths of the labour camp, things were about to get a hundred times worse.

  We had to get away from here. We needed to find the Reinas before Adaro did irreversible damage.

  Meela glanced at the silvery couple.

  “A former human had best learn her place in Adaro’s kingdom,” said the merman beside her, who was now projecting thorough dislike.

  A muscle flexed in Meela’s jaw.

  “Mee.” I tilted my head towards the southern mermaid. “I think I know her. Come on.”

  Our neighbours gave off a sense of relief as we drifted away. I couldn’t help watching Meela push her hands out adorably to balance against the current.

  “Where do you know her from?”

  “I don’t,” I whispered. “But she’s southern. An ally. I want to talk to her.”

  Was I naive to think she was a Reina, just because of her appearance? The South Pacific Kingdom had been here long before Adaro arrived in the north. Surely they were united in their resistance. I hoped so—and thinking about the labour camp turned that hope into desperation.

  We swam slowly, letting others pass, until we drew parallel with the southern mermaid.

  Her body was lean, her bones sharp, her tail long—an evolutionary difference between south and north. Blue gems pierced her cheekbones, nose, and collarbone. Her brown hair was thick and dreadlocked. She must have been in her thirties, with several lifetimes of scars across her body.

  She glanced at us sideways.

  “You’re from the south,” I said.

  “Nothing deceives you,” said the mermaid.

  “Excuse me?”

  “What would you like?”

  I squinted, trying to get a read on her. Strange accent aside, her aura was hard to decipher.

  “What’s your name?” said Meela, picking up the awkward silence.

  “What is yours?”

  “Meela. This is Lysi.”

  “Deiopea.”

  “Are you a former human?” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Everyone else here is, so I wondered—”

  “No.” She tossed a dreadlock over her shoulder. “I was not a human, nor am I descended from one.”

  As I suspected, she was taken captive because she was southern. Did that mean Adaro was trying to dispose of anyone whose loyalty didn’t lie with him? I wondered who in Utopia was truly safe, and, given these prisoners’ opinions of humans, what lies they were being fed.

  “What were you doing this far north?” I said.

  “I was searching for a new place to live.”

  Liar, I thought, feeling the skip in her pulse.

  There was one explanation. A southern mermaid wouldn’t come this far north unless she was part of the Reinas. She could take us to them.

  Meela was silent.

  I chose my words carefully, aware there might be prying ears. “If you’re up north for the reason I think, we want to join you.”

  I watched her closely, but Deiopea showed no sign of recognition. She fixed her gaze ahead. “You are speaking nonsense.”

  “I met some southern merpeople a few days ago,” I persisted. “Right near Eriana Kwai. They helped me. I said para la rein—”

  Deiopea clapped a hand over my mouth. “What is the matter with you?”

  Triumphant, I pushed her away. “I knew it.”

  Her eyes flashed red. “You do not just blurt such things!”

  “So you believe us, then?” I whispered. “We’re on your side.”

  Deiopea studied me for a long while before saying, “I cannot tell you what you wish to know.”

  Despite her stubbornness, my heart jumped. She knew where they were.

  I nodded towards Meela. “Do you know who this is?”

  Meela glanced furtively at me.

  “Please enlighten me,” said Deiopea flatly.

  “This is Metlaa Gaela, descendant of Eriana. Do you know what Adaro has control of at this moment?”

  Deiopea hesitated. She seemed interested despite herself. “They are saying it is the most fearsome being in the world, and it rivals the power of the original Medusa.”

  “It’s true.”

  I paused. An idea had been smouldering in the back of my mind, and at her words about rivalling the power of Medusa, it glowed a bit brighter. I pushed the thought aside for later.

  “Deiopea, the serpent came from Eriana Kwai. Meela is a former human, and she knows more than any of us about it.”

  Deiopea squinted at us. “You are making this up.”

  “I’m not.”

  “He tried to kill me to get it,” whispered Meela. “He tried to kill Lysi.”

  After a moment, Deiopea said, “He has tried to kill many. It has not stopped any of you from fighting loyally for him.”

  “Ever since Adaro came to the Pacific,” whispered Meela, “my people have been descending further into poverty. We can’t fish. We can’t leave by boat. We can’t go near the beach without getting attacked.”

  Deiopea stared ahead, appearing disinterested.

  “Every spring,” Meela continued, “my people send a ship to Utopia to try and win back our freedom. We call it the Massacre. Every spring, Adaro has killed our warriors. He killed my friends, my allies. My brother.”

  My stomach clenched. A voice in my head scolded me, telling me I was a terrible friend and girlfriend, and dishonest, and a coward.

  “He tried to kill you, too?” said Deiopea, turning to me. “Why?”

  Because I tried to assassinate him twice, I thought.

  I shook my head and muttered, “Not here.”

  Deiopea narrowed her eyes, her lips tightening at the corners. I would need to do better if I wanted her to trust me.

  I lowered my voice to barely a whisper. “There was a group of us. The first time was at the mine. You probably heard how that ende
d. The second time, we tailed him and tried to use iron. Several of our group were killed.”

  Deiopea turned to look at me properly for the first time. The pain on her face betrayed so much more than her guise.

  “I don’t know where my mom and dad are,” I said in a hollow voice. “Or my brother. Considering the crime I’m wanted for, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been captured.”

  I had been trying not to think about my family. There was nothing I could do to help them.

  I felt Meela’s gaze on me and looked away.

  Matching my barely audible tones, Deiopea said, “When Adaro’s troops invaded the Moonless City and took the queen, we rallied against him with all we had. We barely had a military. There had been no need. Adaro took the city far too easily. My husband and son were killed the same day he invaded.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “That’s awful,” said Meela.

  “I have nothing left to lose, now. When he imposed the curfew and forbade anyone to leave the city, I fought. When he reduced the food and supplies coming in, I fought. When we were ordered to report any former humans so they could undergo a screening—” She huffed, expelling a large bubble. “The Moonless City is sometimes called the City of Colour, did you know?”

  I blinked at the change of subject, shaking my head.

  “I’ve never seen it less colourful than it was before I left. Adaro’s occupation drained all life from the coral, the fish, the buildings. It was so quiet. No one knew what would happen to us. Would he force us to fight his war? Would he keep us there until we starved? Kill us all for resisting?”

  She glared at the ocean floor. Rage and vengeance seemed to fill her like a pufferfish.

  “I will not drift idly by while that happens. He cannot strip the colour from my city. He cannot take away my queen.”

  “You’re right,” said Meela. “He can’t. That’s why we need to get to—to where we want to go.”

  Deiopea looked at her sharply.

  “Come with us,” I whispered. “When we …”

  When we escape, I thought, letting it be implied. There were too many potential ears listening in.

  Still, we must have given off an air of conspiracy because the nearest guard, a pale, dark-haired mermaid with an expression like someone had shoved a dead fish under her nose, shouted, “Enough whispering!”

  She twirled her mace. All conversation died.

  I raised my eyebrows meaningfully at Deiopea. She fixed her eyes ahead and swam in silence for a moment. When the guard finally turned away, Deiopea glanced at me, quickly, just long enough to nod once.

  CHAPTER THREE - Ben

  Kodiak, Alaska

  Benjamin Reeves had trained for disaster scenarios for the greater part of his life. Earthquakes, forest fires, storms, and tsunamis. Terrorist attacks. He was prepared to help in any situation. Except this one.

  He was cruising the long way home in his pickup truck, windows down, summer breeze lifting the hair on his arms. His mind was still on the matte black twin-engine helicopter that Bagh had just shown him—the latest addition to the air wing.

  “LM-80 Cormorant. Long-range enough for a medevac from the middle of the ocean. This thing’s designed for anti-submarine, anti-ship, search and rescue, cargo lift, special ops, you name it.”

  Reeves was wondering whether said special ops included him when he noticed the group of people gathered in the harbour.

  They were pointing at something in the distance, which he at first took to be a huge pod of orcas. Several people were taking pictures.

  He rolled to a stop in an empty intersection and squinted through the sun’s glare.

  His mouth slowly fell open. Not whales.

  The vast shape in the water rose and fell through the surface in a connected wave, bigger than his mind could comprehend.

  Sitting in the idling truck, Reeves scrambled to regain his slipping hold on reality. He clung to one certainty like a buoy: this thing, whatever it was, was heading for shore.

  He shut off the truck so he could listen. People were beginning to panic. He could hear them shouting. He wrenched his seatbelt off and flung open the truck door.

  By the time his feet hit the pavement, the thing was already in the harbour. Reeves cursed as a shower of seawater erupted like a mine.

  Several people screamed. Dogs pulled at their leashes, barking frantically. The crowd began to sprint away from the shore as the mammoth creature crested the waves.

  On the passenger’s seat, Reeves’ phone rang. He stood in the intersection, frozen by what he was seeing, when the scream of a child cut through the noise.

  Propelled into action, he dove across the seat for his phone and then sprinted towards the shore with trained agility, phone at his ear.

  The voice on the other end was frantic. “Reeves, I need you to get to the harbour—” It was his superior, Officer Miller.

  The screaming girl’s mother scooped her up. She took off towards the parking lot.

  “I’m here, sir.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

  “All I know is we got a distress call from the coast guard, and then we lost contact.”

  The tsunami siren erupted, an unceasing wail from the top of several masts along the shoreline. At this, people burst out of nearby homes and shops.

  “Sir, it’s unclear what—”

  At the end of the docks, something rose out of the water that made Reeves stop in his tracks. It was a black serpent’s head, as large as the moored speedboats, a flare of horns at the back of its skull. A blast of seawater rained from nostrils the size of basketballs. The serpent tasted the air.

  “Reeves, you there?”

  The serpent closed in, crushing the sailboats in its path and sending swells of water high enough to capsize the rest. Several people on the docks vanished beneath the waves.

  Reeves lowered the phone and raced closer to the beach.

  “Get out of the water!” he bellowed.

  The dock shattered beneath the serpent’s weight. It did not seem to feel the shards of wood and fibreglass dragging under its scales.

  People on the shore were running and screaming. Reeves stopped briefly to usher an elderly couple up the steps leading to the parking lot, then turned back in time to see the creature reach land, not a hundred feet away. The scrape of its scales across the pavement rose above the wailing siren and the noise of the crowd.

  He pulled civilians back from the shore, shouting at them to get to their vehicles and to pile in as many people as they could.

  A series of shrill barks rent the air and Reeves looked around, eyes landing on a border collie that had been left tied to a bike rack. He pelted across the beach and ducked next to the dog, its breath hot and fast on his neck as he freed its collar from the leash. The border collie fled without looking back, nails skittering across the pavement.

  There was a deafening boom.

  Reeves threw himself behind the bike rack and peered up through the bars.

  The serpent’s great head had shattered the boathouse with the force of a crashing meteor. Its horns caught on the roof and peeled the rafters off, throwing them across the beach like twigs in a windstorm. Reeves flung his arms up, protecting his head as one soared towards him. It crashed over the bike rack and snapped in two, the pieces landing on either side of him.

  The slit pupils narrowed further as the serpent peered down on the chaos, as if inspecting its own efforts.

  Further out, three men shot across the water in a speedboat, fleeing in the opposite direction. The small boat powered over the swells and whirlpools left by the serpent, and for a moment, Reeves thought they would escape unharmed.

  Then a second serpent breached the water.

  Its massive head shadowed the speedboat like an eclipse. The water cascading off of it was enough to flood the boat, which rocked vi
olently under the deluge. The screams of the men on board carried faintly on the wind.

  Reeves scanned the water, breathing hard. Was there an entire pack of them?

  The immense jaws hovering over the boat opened with a noise like splintering wood. Saliva and seawater dripped from fangs that were each the size of a man’s arm.

  Two of the men dove off while the driver cowered beneath the wheel. None of it mattered. When the serpent struck, its jaws closed over the boat and all.

  Reeves watched the men disappear with mounting horror that numbed his body.

  Finished with its meal, the second serpent swung around and followed the path of its mate onto the beach. It reached the shallows and—

  Oh, no. The two heads were connected to the same body. This was a single leviathan, a head at each end.

  The breath caught in Reeves’ chest. Dimly, he realised he was still clutching his phone and lifted it to his ear.

  “Reeves! God dammit—”

  “I’m here, sir.”

  “We’re sending help. We need to nuke this thing before it takes out all of Kodiak.”

  Reeves sank to his knees behind the bike rack, heart pounding. He’d spent his whole life training for this—from Cadets, to the Navy, through every screening, assessment, and boot camp, topping it all off with survival training at the Naval Special Warfare Cold Weather Detachment. So why did he feel so ill-prepared all of a sudden?

  He looked at the serpent’s body, studying the hundreds of coal-black scales that glittered like armour. His gaze drifted to the water.

  “What the hell is the procedure, here?” said Officer Miller. “Is this a natural disaster?”

  There. Reeves’ eyes locked onto something that sent a chill through him. Perched on a rock next to a hazard buoy and watching the chaos unfold, black hair dripping beneath a black crown, was an enormous merman.

  As Reeves watched, the demon raised and lowered his arms repeatedly. What was he doing? Reeves studied the odd movements, then turned back to the serpent in time to see one of the heads close its jaws around a parked SUV and crush it like it was made of spun glass.

  The merman was still gesturing from the rock. Was the serpent responding to this in some way?