Tru watched in heavy lipped silence as those loyal to the cause continued to filter in, filling up the back and forcing those already there to move in tighter. The loyal members of The Rebellion were growing as dissent in both communities increased over the heavy handedness of Tarus Council.
The Council had brought it on themselves, in Tru’s opinion. Seascrill and Tarians alike were demanding their rights, tired of being controlled by old, antiquated laws and beliefs that hadn’t kept pace with more modern times. Both sides demanded equal opportunities and to have a say in the choices they made for their jobs and families.
Tru meant to see that they all got them—within reason, of course. A powerful government wasn’t successful without firm leadership at the helm. The masses needed guidance to lead lives that were suited to their well-being. Most of the anxious faces looking up at him were ignorant of the politics and planning it took to run a successful government. That’s where he came in. When the time came, he planned to be that voice of reason on the throne, helping them make all the right decisions.
And he wouldn’t be the pretty figurehead that smiled and spouted council policy like it was his own, either. His voice wouldn’t be one of many, taking a seat behind the voices of a few. Instead, he planned to be the last and final voice to make all the important decisions the people simply weren’t capable of making on their own. In the end, they would thank him for it.
The meeting was starting late. The room was full beyond capacity and the air was thick with the anxious breaths of over a hundred frightened civilians.
The last few were still trickling in when Tru held up a hand, waiting as everyone looked up and took note. The volume of chatter died down to a whisper, all waiting to hear what he had to say. It was a deeply satisfying feeling, and his chest swelled with pride in what had largely been his own creation. He’d done this: brought them together. A trickle of nervous awareness tickled along the backs of his shoulders and he gave a light shiver. It was also an act of treason, and he had more than just his current position in the Tarus government to lose.
“Fellow warriors, citizens, denizens of Deep Lake, all. We are gathered here tonight to discuss plans going forward for a unified government, one that will hold the best interests of Seascrill and Tarians alike at heart. For too long the people of Deep Lake have suffered under the autocratic rule and repression of a few Tarians who have seen their prime and ability to reason justly come and go. It’s time for new leadership and just laws that consider your own family’s needs and safety.”
A roar of agreement tumbled forth from the crowd, fists pumping the air. Tru waited for them to quiet down, secretly thrilled at the overwhelming show of approval.
“Plans need to be made and executed to mount a takeover of Tarus in the coming weeks. It is unfortunate that in order to form a more effective government that takes your needs into consideration, the current government must fall. Only then can we rebuild it to better suit the people—all the people, not just those Tarus Council deems fit to have a voice. You should all be heard, every man, woman, and child—together. We need to unite to create a new and unified Tarus…and Misen.”
The ensuing shouts of approval were more muted, as several in the crowd processed the last few words. He took careful note of the mulish disagreement on several faces, Seascrill faces, who were more than willing to see Tarus fall and reform as a combined government but weren’t so willing to see Misen follow the same decrees led by someone who wasn’t one of them.
They would need a little more convincing, but what the resistance was proposing couldn’t be a one-sided affair. Both sides had to come together and give up something of their heritage to form a new one. The division of races had to end, and the rise of what they all were, Mer-folk, had to commence.
“That’s right, both sides have to give if we are to all get what we want. Tarus must change, and Misen must rise and be noticed, not remain hidden away any longer.”
“But what if we lose? We’ll be wide open to attack from the Tarians—our children…” said a tall thin woman in back.
“She’s right. If we lose, things will be worse than they already are, they’ll take over Misen, and nowhere will be safe for the Seascrill community,” said another.
Tru’s eyes narrowed behind the slits in his mask, but he wasn’t surprised. They were frightened. Good, they should be. “All that’s true. But in order for this to work, we can’t put a small part of ourselves forward. We have to risk everything to have it all. If we do nothing, what do your children have to look forward to? Seascrill especially, don’t you want all the opportunities afforded to the Tarians? And Tarians, you want equal opportunities for higher education, better jobs, and a vote in the laws as they are made. Aren’t you all tired of being treated like children? Repressed and controlled by a few…your rights stripped away at birth?”
The buzz of conversation rose once more to a roar of outrage and approval. Tru knew what they wanted, and he meant to give it to them, as long as it furthered his own agenda, of course.
Farther back, another voice spoke out, the words causing Tru to blink in outrage, angry words trembling on his lips before he reined them in. “And who will be our leader? Who will we put on the throne? A Tarian, or a Seascrill?”
Tru squinted, trying to see farther into the crowd and identify the speaker. But her identity, and he was at least certain it was a woman, remained a mystery. No matter. Maybe it was better they all knew up front.
“I will be king.” He let the buzz of dissent build, so the next part had more impact.
“Along with my queen, a Seascrill woman.”
The crowd faded to dead silence almost immediately. He continued. “Tarus Council will be disbanded. We will have a new Deep Lake Council instead. It will comprise an even number of qualified men and women from both communities. They will be your voice, and work for you, the people, as advisers for your concerns and issues in the future. But as the new king and queen, we will no longer just sit and look elegant for the masses to admire. We will reserve the right to veto any propositions that affect the safety of Mer-folk. That’s not all, but the rest we can negotiate.”
“Who is she? Who will be your queen?” This from the same smokey voice in the back. Again, he could not locate the source, and he scowled in frustration.
“That hasn’t been decided,” he hedged. He allowed a slow smile, his voice teasing. Inwardly, he seethed. “I confess, I am looking for the perfect, lovely Seascrill maiden to stand at my side as my partner.”
“The Seascrill should choose,” came the soft voice from somewhere else in the crowd. His mystery woman was moving.
He allowed a small frown. “But then you would take away my choice, wouldn’t you? And that’s a right we’re all fighting for. The chance to choose our brides…and grooms.”
He waited for that sultry voice to respond, finding that he was curious to put a face to the husky words. But she was silent.
Sighing in disappointment, he moved on to the next question, growing serious again when the question he’d been dreading was voiced by an older gentleman in front.
“Why Min? Why kill her? She was an old woman. How can there be peace where there is murder?”
His eyes narrowed, memorizing the craggy features for future reference. “She wasn’t supposed to be harmed. None of them were. If Mirra and that Onlander, Sirris, hadn’t interfered, we’d have been successful in our plans.”
“And those were?” the older gent persisted.
“To frighten them, to show them what they were up against. No one was supposed to die,” he lied smoothly with a smile.
Sighs of regret were heard, the masses mourning the senseless death. The old man’s expression was more difficult to read as he stepped back and faded from view within the crowd that pushed forward with more questions.
“What is our next move?”
He smiled, shaking a teasing finger. “Now that, I’m afraid, must remain a bit of a secret. Just know that
whatever it is, you will all be apprised of the situation ahead of time. Be wary and be prepared. When we move, it will be swift. Victory goes to the ready.”
There were several other questions. Most he answered with half-truths or subtle subterfuge. And to a select few, he added another lie. He saw himself as a politician, after all. And his purpose was to serve the people and give them what they wanted…as long as he delivered it to himself first.
#
The practice field was spread out before us, long, flat, and open. Seascrill and Sylvans alike paired up and spread over the open expanse, sparring with a variety of different Mer-weaponry. The tridents, not so different from my Onlander staff, flashed green and red, as mini-tornadoes of boiling water shot from their ends in a bubbling froth of energy. Opponents were holding back, I knew, with the intent being to stun, not to do lasting damage to their sparring partners. Still, watching those that weren’t quick enough take a hit and fly backwards in a near state of unconsciousness encouraged them to pay attention. In another place on the field, moving targets were placed strategically to form an obstacle course combatants swam through, using their hand bows and soft darts for practice. Still others were engaged in hand to hand combat with their long knives blunted to avoid drawing blood as they feinted and parried. But what drew my attention was the area where Seascrill and Sylvan alike paired up, engaged in drawing their own magic into silvery balls of energy, and hurling the masses at each other, going for a direct hit. Like the tridents, they were definitely pulling their punches. This was practice, not war. At least not yet.
A flash of movement near the center pulled my eye. Shade, the Captain of the Guard, was involved in a match with another young guard, a Seascrill. The young man, lithe and quick, ducked and dived as Shade moved on him, guarded, knife flashing.
I glanced over at Mirra, who had a decided gleam in her eyes. “What concludes the match?” I asked.
“The first touch of that blade to an opponent is considered a win. That’s Pia. He’s quick. But if Shade gets hold of him, it will be all over. Shade is definitely stronger.” Even as she spoke, Pia cut his backward spin a little too close, and Shade snagged his arm. In a flash, the blade was at his throat. With a wide grin, Shade reached in and tapped him on the nose with the side of the blade.
The other young man took it well enough, spinning away from him and floating out of reach, and giving a sharp salute. The next in line stepped forward. And they were at it again, probably hoping Pia had tired Shade out, making him an easier mark. Watching Shade move, I knew they were going to be disappointed.
Mirra nudged me. “Let’s go. Dael is down there, working with the cerulean orbs.”
I nodded and followed her down, relishing the movement of mermaid muscles in my long sinewy tail, propelling me through the water at dizzying speed. Dael looked up with a smile as we approached, but his eyes weren’t on me.
“You here for another whooping, Mirra?” he teased.
She rolled her eyes and shot back. “Your memory is spotty. I believe it was you I left rolling in the pond weed last time. Remember? You were too slow.”
He turned to me. “So, what brings you to our Tarus practice field?”
Mirra spoke up before I could. “Lessons. Sirris wants to know how to conjure and use a Cerulean Orb. She doesn’t fool me. She wants something she can use in the water and on land.”
Something dark moved through his eyes, but he was smiling when he turned to me. “Is that so? Think you can handle the heat, Onlander?”
My lips twitched in amusement. “If you can, fish.”
“Ooh, now that was just mean.” But I’d made him smile.
I moved in closer, wondering if a closer look at Dael, the man, would jog my memories of the boy I vaguely remembered from when I was five. But chiseled features and hard living had changed him too much. I didn’t know the handsome Sylvan in front of me anymore. And he didn’t know me.
I spread my arms, encompassing all the activities taking place on the enormous field of pondweed, the fronds weaving in the current, creating the illusion of wind. “We have this in Drae Valley, at Rule 9 Academy. We are all either Magicals with some form of ability, or Others…those capable of shifting form. A lot of us are a combination of the two. And a few of us can conjure fireballs and whip them at dizzying speeds. Ruins your day if you get hit with one of those, I can tell you. But your what—Cerulean Orbs? They aren’t the same. I’d like to learn how to work with those, and without having to use my staff as an extension of my magic. Can you do that?”
Dael gave me a speculative stare, slowly nodding. “Maybe. But learning how to channel that much energy into one small, charged globe in your hand? That takes practice. This isn’t someone-off trick you can tuck away in your pocket after a day of practice.” While he’d been talking, his eyes had darkened. In amazement I watched as he held his hand out, the webbed fingers spread wide. In the center and growing, was a small twining ball of light yellow and green energy, the strands of electricity twisting and churning madly. I couldn’t take my eyes away from that writhing mass. “Can I touch it?”
He chuckled, “Only if you want it to knock you on your…rear,” he amended.
He nodded towards a tin disc erected on a pole that had buried deep in the lake bed some twenty yards away. There were several just like it, at varying heights and distances.
Muscles bunching, he drew his arm back and whipped it clean at the small circlet. His stance was wide and his concentration on his goal reminded me of a pitcher in baseball, throwing a first pitch.
It spun through the water like it was air, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake but moving incredibly fast. It hit the target dead center. I expected it to ping and swing wide beneath the impact. I jumped when instead it simply exploded, tiny particles of metal coalescing to dust and floating in a silver cloud to the lake floor.
“Oh wow. Um, does it do that when it hits human flesh?” I had to ask.
He chuckled, but it wasn’t a ha-ha, funny sound. “It can. It depends on the person wielding it. I mean, really, we are all Magicals, no matter our differences. I think that’s a safe title. You pull your own magic, Sirris, so the orbs extend your power…and your rage. Concentrate hard enough and yes, whoever you hit is going to have a very bad day. That’s why you have to practice so you can absolutely control it. There is no room for an accident here when practicing with a live partner. Once you get good at it, you can set it to be so faint it’s no worse than getting zapped with a bout of static electricity. When you can do that, you own the power it contains. Right now, you might conjure something, but it controls you. We need to flip that switch.”
I glanced at Mirra, who had been floating beside us, listening to the interchange patiently, her eyes never leaving Dael.
“How good are you, sister?” I asked her.
She turned to me with a cheeky grin. “Dangerous enough to ruin your century.”
“She’s not humble, either. But she is pretty good.”
She snorted, bubbles escaping her nose in a froth. “Better than you, Sylvan.”
He sent her a small grin that was more than fond. I again had a niggling suspicion their relationship was something other than what they presented to the rest of us.
He turned back to me. “So, wanna try it?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I said.
An hour later, I was cursing those words. Both Mirra and Dael could effortlessly demonstrate orb after orb, in a variety of hues and sizes, tossing them around like softballs. By the time I’d finished for the day, I was able to form and roll a marble sized blue ball and keep it mostly contained in the palm of my hand for close to twenty seconds. Both Dael and Mirra boasted several burns when the spinning threads of energy I called escaped the confines of my hand and went winging outward in deadly arcs.
“I’m sorry!” I said for the umpteenth time as Dael rubbed away a scorch mark on his shoulder, wincing.
“No problem,” he ground out. He was clearly
lying.
“Remember, you aren’t pulling it along your staff, pull it off the ends of your fingertips in a rolling motion, kinda like you are rolling a ball of yarn and you are the skein of brightly colored thread,” Mirra repeated. She’d been telling me the same thing, albeit using different words, for a while now.
I ground my own teeth together, concentrating with all I was worth. I was getting tired, and this was going to have to be my last attempt for the day. My energy, and their patience, was growing thin.
Once more I pulled at the delicate strands of energy. I could feel them radiating from my body if I concentrated hard enough. They wriggled and spun out of control, bubbling up from my solar plexus and tickling along my shoulders and down my arms. At the last moment, as the threads trickled off the ends of my fingertips, I made a rolling motion, faster and faster as they came, concentrating on rolling that ball and keeping it symmetrical so it didn’t wobble and spin apart. It took every ounce of focus I had, but when I opened my eyes, my fingers still spinning, a golf ball sized orb spun perfectly in the center of my palm, balanced there. “Oh wow. That’s better, then. Should I throw it at something?” I asked hopefully.
“No!” both Dael and Mirra screeched immediately.
I pursed my lips in a small moue of disappointment. “It’s better though, right?”
Dael sighed. “For your first time, it’s first rate. You’ve formed a decent sized sphere your first day. That’s incredibly fast. But we are a ways away from you whipping that around and risking hitting someone.”
Mirra added. “You’re really good, Sirris. But next we have to work on pulling back or increasing the power in what you’re holding. Know what it’s going to do before you toss it at things. It can be a deadly weapon or act like a stun gun when you just want to incapacitate someone.”
Rule 9 Academy Series Boxset: Books 3-5 Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy (Rule 9 Academy Box Sets (3 Book Series) 2) Page 61
