“Can you fix it?” Zamir asked again.
“Probably.” Ginny shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but we fixed it with aether before, and maybe we can do it again.” She held the palm of her hand against the engine. For a moment, neither of them spoke as the aether lightning arced out to cover the engine in a web of purple. Ginny’s shoulders sagged as she sighed. “Maybe Badur and Thaleia were afraid a missile would break through the hull.”
“If they fled in a hurry, they would not have had time to dismantle the kelp hammock. They would have just grabbed Kai and fled.” Zamir shook his head sharply. “No, Ginny. They were gone long before the missile hit the Endling.”
“But why? We were making progress back to the Levantine Sea. We’re less than twenty-four hours away. We’re taking Kai home.”
“I…” Zamir grimaced. He turned his face away from Ginny’s inquiring gaze.
She stared at his profile, then sighed deeply. “They found out.” She tilted her head. “I know you weren’t planning on telling them. What happened?”
“Their pretense of protecting Kai…loving Kai—” Zamir snarled. “Their sanctimonious sham of wanting the best of him.”
“He’s their son. Their only son. Of course they want the best for him.”
“Then why did they abandon him? If Thaleia truly wanted the best for Kai, she would have begged Badur to take Kai with him, back to Shulim. If Badur truly wanted the best for Kai, he would have taken Kai back—”
“And left Thaleia to die?” Ginny shook her head. “Come on, Zamir. That’s not fair. They loved each other. And that Beltiamatu custom of killing the mates of the royal family when the child is born is absolutely barbaric.”
“I’m not arguing that point, but the fact is that they chose each other—not their son.”
“And in the panic of the moment, you always think clearly?” Ginny challenged. “They were fighting for their lives. They probably hoped to get away with it—to live together as a family, far away from Shulim.”
“That’s it? No back-up plan for when the wishful thinking goes entirely to hell?”
Ginny poked her finger at Zamir’s chest. “You’re a morbid, depressing sort, you know?”
“I was the one who had to pick up the pieces. To hold a crying child. To explain to him why he didn’t even have a father, when it was only his mother who should have died.” Zamir’s jaw tensed. “I was the one who had to endure his challenging gaze. I could see the question in his eyes even if he didn’t ask it. If I hadn’t sent the soldiers after them, would his parents have lived, and would he be with them?”
“Of course his parents would have lived, and he would have been with them,” Ginny said with easy simplicity that only incensed Zamir further. “Come on, Zamir. Let’s not blind ourselves to the fact that the situation careened completely out of control, and there was more than one person to blame for what happened, but Badur is your son.” Their eyes met. “Don’t you want to know how he’s doing? How he’s lived all these years? What he feels over everything that happened?”
Zamir couldn’t endure the pity in Ginny’s eyes. “They took Kai! That action is all the statement I need about what he feels.”
“He’s just trying to protect his son.”
“You think it’s a desire to protect Kai that pushed him into removing Kai, injured as he was, from a situation where he was better protected, into a situation where he is less protected? Badur can’t see. Thaleia is not a warrior. Kai is at more risk now than he was here. You call that protection?”
“The ship was under attack—”
“Hate. It’s hate.” Zamir’s chest tightened. “Kai sought me out. He called for me. His gaze moved over them as if they didn’t even exist.”
“Kai’s going back to the familiar. He must have been almost delirious from the pain—”
“So you’re saying it’s habit—”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed into warning slits. “Familiar doesn’t imply a lack of love. The fact is, family isn’t something that magically happens because you find out you’re related to someone by blood. Kai knows you have his back, because you have always had his back—except for those times when he has challenged you. And he has yours—mostly.” Ginny pulled her hand away from the engine. It activated with a low, steady purr. She allowed herself a faint smile before turning squarely to face Zamir. “But now he has other family too. There’s space enough in Kai’s heart—and I hope in yours—for more people.”
He could not answer that question. Not yet. Not when resentment and fury battled for dominance. Thaleia and Badur had taken an injured Kai away. Were they both insane? Who was going to protect Kai?
“Zamir?” Ginny called his name.
Zamir ground his teeth. She was as tenacious as a puppy with a chew stick. She wasn’t going to give up until she got the answer she wanted out of him.
And Zamir wasn’t ready to answer it. He wasn’t even ready to voice the question echoing through his mind.
Was there space in Badur’s heart for more?
Chapter 5
Losing two submarines had finally inspired the Atlanteans and humans to call off their pursuit of the Endling, but even so, it had taken the Endling more than twenty hours to reach the Levantine Seas, off the coast of the island of Kalymnos, Greece. Swimming down to the mer-colony hidden in the recesses of the labyrinthian sea caves of the Levantine Sea was slow and difficult. Zamir cradled Naia in his arms. Her long tail draped over the crook of his elbow. Her head dangled lifelessly. She was still breathing, but scarcely.
Zamir glanced over his shoulder often, but Ginny kept up easily enough. She was still a slow swimmer, but her ability to breathe underwater removed, at least, the urgency of having to get to a place before her oxygen supply ran out.
A large cave emerged from the deep, distant blue, its wavering outline hinting at the Beltiamatu guards hovering in front of the dark opening.
“Should we be prepared for a fight?” Ginny asked. The water garbled her words into near unintelligibility, but they had spent enough time in the water for Zamir to guess at most of her meaning.
“More than likely.” Zamir’s voice easily and automatically shifted into a higher pitch so that it would be audible in water. “The Beltiamatu have their prince now, and they look to Badur as their leader. At his command, they will die to defend their prince from us.”
“But you’re his grandfather.”
Zamir’s jaw tightened. “And to Badur, that would be all the more reason to do so.”
“I think you’re not giving him enough credit.”
“I’m giving him all the credit he deserves for thoughtlessness. For thinking of no one beyond himself—what he wants and what he thinks he deserves. He wanted his son—so he took his son and left Naia behind.”
“Naia was on the ship, resting comfortably,” Ginny said, her tone brisk and practical, even underwater. “Thaleia and Badur couldn’t have carried two injured people with them. I’m surprised they even managed one.”
Zamir spun around and glared at Ginny. “How long will you keep making excuses for them? Explaining away their every action as if it were kindly meant, driven by love—”
“Because maybe they were!” Ginny shouted back. “Just because you’re a paranoid ass who believed, for the longest time, that your mother didn’t love you, doesn’t automatically make every other parent in the world a thoughtless jerk. People screw up because they love others. Heaven knows, your mother did. As you did.”
He glanced past her shoulder. “Perhaps we shouldn’t argue so loudly.”
She turned around. In the distance, the flurry of bubbles was all that remained as the two Beltiamatu who had been milling around the cave entrance fled into it.
“Really?” Ginny rolled her eyes.
The disgust in her tone matched his growing fury. Had the Beltiamatu lost all good sense, along with their spines, that they would flee from two humans, one of whom was carrying an unconscious mermaid?
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As they swam closer, a contingent of mermen, armed with spears, emerged from the cave.
“Don’t get pissy,” Ginny warned Zamir.
“Pissy?”
“You know what I mean. You can do a lot of damage when you’re irritated. It would be really rude to kill all the people in Kai’s kingdom even before he has a chance to rule.”
Zamir clenched his teeth to hold back the scathing reply. Kai wouldn’t miss the handful—or more—of cowards who seemed to proliferate the remnants of his kingdom. The Beltiamatu warriors’ eyes widened and shifted nervously at his approach. Their white-knuckled grip on their spear shafts tightened.
He stopped only several feet away from them, easily within the reach of their spears but no one moved to attack him. They stared at him, slack-jawed.
The revelation of his identity had traveled ahead of him.
He handed off the unconscious Naia to a Beltiamatu warrior, who dropped his spear in his haste to support her. “Take her to the healers, now.”
“Yes, of course, your…your majesty.”
The warrior’s salutation confirmed that Zamir’s secret was out.
And that Badur and Thaleia had returned.
“Where is Kai?” he asked.
The pale faces of the Beltiamatu warriors blanched further. “Your majesty, the prince…the prince…”
Behind him, Ginny inhaled sharply. “What happened to Kai?”
The barricade of Beltiamatu warriors parted before Zamir. Lichen clung to the walls of the phosphorescent cave, lighting the way. Zamir paused, stiffening at the sudden, sharp scent of blood in the water. “Kai?”
He followed the scent down the twisting caves, ignoring the Beltiamatu women and children who pressed themselves against the walls, shying out of his way. In the gloom of the caves, a purple light gleamed. His heart clenched as the brightening glow welcomed him to a large chamber where several Beltiamatu hammered on a three-pronged adamantine regulator. A black cloud pierced by violet and indigo streaks of lightning wobbled over its metallic base.
Ginny grabbed Zamir’s wrist. “Look.”
“I know.”
“But if it’s here, that means…” Her eyes widened. “Kai?”
“There’s blood in the water,” Zamir told her. “The path leads deeper into the caves.”
She cursed under her breath. “Should I wait here?”
Their eyes met. She was right, of course. Kai was hypersensitive to the presence of aether when it wasn’t in him. The swirling vortex of dark energy triggered uncontrolled transformations between his legs and tail—bloody transformations that stripped scales, melted skin and flesh, even dissolved bone—before rebuilding his body in some unfathomable way.
And each time Kai transformed, the devastating blood loss and bludgeoning pain weakened him further.
“Wait here.” Zamir nodded his agreement. “And keep an eye on that aether core.”
“Don’t let anyone steal it?”
“That should be obvious, but no—it’s not stable.”
“How can you tell?” Ginny asked.
“The purple arcs are striking beyond the edges of the dark cloud. The regulator isn’t doing its job. That aether core is probably emitting steady pulses of stray aether.”
“And it’s got to be driving Kai insane,” Ginny murmured. She pressed her lips together, her eyes wide with distress. “What can I do? Is there anything I can do to stabilize it?”
“I wouldn’t go anywhere near it, let alone touch it, unless you want twice the amount of problems you already have right now,” Zamir said. “Power attracts power, Ginny, and there is nothing more powerful than a living vortex of dark energy. It wants to merge with the aether core you carry.” Their eyes met. “Don’t let it.”
Ginny nodded. “Got it.” She edged away from the center of the cave, until she hit the cave wall. She leaned against the curved surface, and watched, wide-eyed and silent.
There was usually something distressingly vulnerable about a human underwater, but not Ginny. In that moment, even though alone, the casual watchfulness in her stance made her seem like a warrior, not a reclusive professor, literally out-of-her-depth, in circumstances that must surely seem utterly fantastical to her.
As if sensing his attention, she looked up. “I’m all right. Go to Kai.”
He nodded. The tightening feeling in his chest was something he couldn’t explain away, yet he shied from it, as if sensing its power to disrupt his life.
He could not possibly be falling in love with a human woman.
Not when every problem in Beltiamatu history stemmed from a Beltiamatu king falling in love with a human woman.
He really ought to know better.
The scent of blood thickened, metallic and cold. The glow of aether faded behind him, and it vanished entirely by the time he dropped down a nearly vertical passage into an underground chamber. Several Beltiamatu huddled around a familiar shape, curled on the ground, his back to the entrance.
“Kai?”
The Beltiamatu spun around. All but Badur retreated from Zamir as he swam forward. His hands clenched into fists to stop himself from striking out at his stupid, irresponsible son.
Not now.
Not when his grandson needed him.
Kai turned slowly onto his back. Crimson tendrils of blood curled through the water around him. The cave was stripped almost entirely of light, but even so, Zamir could see how wan and exhausted Kai looked. In place of legs, he now possessed a tail, and the process—Zamir suspected—had been as brutally painful as always.
Kai’s lips shaped a single word. “Naia?”
Zamir noticed that Badur was ashamed enough to turn his face away. “I brought her back. She’s with the healers now.”
“Is she going to live?”
“I don’t know,” Zamir replied.
The brutal honesty shattered Kai. The hope in his eyes blinked out. His eyelashes lowered over his eyes, and his head slumped to the side.
For several moments, Zamir watched Kai breathe—just to be sure he was alive. He gripped Kai’s shoulder, pressing hard enough until Kai nodded, almost imperceptibly.
The tightness around Zamir’s chest didn’t ease. “What happened?” Zamir directed the question at Badur.
“We arrived ten hours ago, and Kai transferred the aether core to the regulator.”
“The regulator’s unstable. It’s not large enough to fully contain the core.”
“We know that now,” Badur snapped. “But when we realized it, it was too late. Kai was already transforming.” He paused and remained silent until Thaleia swam up to him and slid her hand into his.
Coward. Zamir clenched his teeth.
Badur continued, but his voice was less steady. “We moved him down here, as far as we could get from the aether core, but five hours ago, Kai’s tail transformed back into legs, and then minutes before you arrived, from legs back to a tail.”
“Spontaneously?”
Badur nodded. “Something’s happening. Something’s wrong.”
The plaintive note in Badur’s voice made Zamir want to strike out at him. Of course something was wrong. Something had been wrong with Kai for a long time. Hadn’t Badur noticed that keeping the aether core within Kai was the only way to stop him from transforming? Couldn’t Badur figure out anything without having to be told?
“Kai insisted upon it,” Thaleia said quietly, as if she sensed the direction of Zamir’s thoughts. “He said he had brought back the aether core for his people—not for him. He insisted on transferring it to the regulator. He would not listen to any of us. If you had been here—”
“I could have stopped him.” The fury simmering in Zamir coalesced into a snarl. “Why did you take him away from the Endling?”
“We want to keep him safe—”
“From what?” Zamir turned on Thaleia. “The torpedo? Didn’t you realize that the people he cared most for in the world were on that ship? If you really thought the torped
o was going to be a problem, you left Naia behind to die!”
Badur spoke up, his body shifting as he placed himself between Zamir and Thaleia. “It was my decision.”
“And when was the last time you made a good decision?” Zamir challenged.
Badur inhaled sharply, his expression pained, as if he had been physically struck. “And you think you’ve made good decisions? Kai deserves a life free from your influence, from the corrupted, perverted influence of the Beltiamatu throne.”
“As you did? And as you chose?” Zamir threw back. “How has it worked out for you?”
“I did not corrupt my people’s blood with curses and disease, as you did. I did not turn the Dirga Tiamatu on my city to wipe out the disease, as he did.”
“So, your claim to fame on having done nothing wrong is having done nothing at all?” Zamir sneered. “It’s easy not to be wrong when you have never attempted to be right, when you have never attempted to be different.”
“How dare you accuse me of not attempting to do the right thing? I was the only person who dared step away from the cursed traditions of the Beltiamatu throne.”
“And for what?” Zamir challenged. “Not because it was the right thing, but because she was what you wanted in that moment. Above your birthright, above even your son. You were always shortsighted. Always selfish. You treated your position as a privilege, not a responsibility. I had hoped that experience and maturity would teach you otherwise, but your apparent death cut short your growth. And now, even though you’re not dead, you are no more experienced, no more mature.”
“He is changed!” Thaleia shouted. “Terribly changed by what you did to him!”
Zamir looked at Thaleia. “Did you really think I would have simply let you leave? You, Bahari, my only heir, and you, Taraneh, carrying the future heir to the throne? Did you wishfully hope that I would fail in my responsibilities as you had failed in yours?”
“No!” Badur roared. “But I had hoped you would understand more. Love more. Forgive more.”
Cursed Legacy: Lord of the Ocean #3 Page 3
