“Arman?” Zamir echoed. His incredulous gaze met Ginny’s. “The First Commander. But he loved Ereshkigal, Inanna’s older sister.”
“Exactly,” Ginny snapped out the word. “Nergal. Inanna. Ereshkigal. Arman. This isn’t even a love triangle. It’s a train wreck in slow motion.”
“But Arman died, and Ereshkigal gave me his soul.” Zamir’s eyes narrowed. “So now I have both Arman and Nergal inside me? Why haven’t they killed each other yet?”
“Good question.” Ginny pressed her lips together. “No idea.”
Zamir grimaced. “I can’t keep track of this ancient soap opera.”
“Which explains why you’ve been ignoring it, and maybe that’s a good thing. Avoiding the emotional drama has managed to keep both personalities—” And Jackson’s. “—quiescent, but I don’t think your strategy is going to work for much longer. Ondine wants something from you.”
“And you know what it is?”
Ginny bit her lower lip. “I have a suspicion, based on something Thaleia and I found in the library. The soul ties the Illojim and Beltiamatu back to their home planet. It is their ticket back to the stars. Without Nergal’s soul, the aspects of Nergal in Ondine and Jacob are bound to the Earth, not fully alive, but not dead either, and certainly not able to depart.”
“What are you saying, Ginny?”
“You’re carrying Nergal’s soul, and that if we are to be truly rid of Ondine and Jacob, we must sever Nergal’s soul from you.”
Zamir’s eyebrows drew together. “All right. And how do we do that?”
Ginny’s nose twitched.
Zamir’s glare turned cold. “Come on, Ginny. Out with it. Stalling on unpleasant truths doesn’t make it any easier to deliver or hear.” His jaw tensed. “Do I have to die to get rid of Nergal’s soul?”
Yeah, she was never going to be a poker player. Ginny drew a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts, but they would not flow into tactful, delicate phrases. Probably because there’s nothing tactful or delicate about what I have to say.
“My research at the library delivered another fun fact,” Ginny said as casually as she could manage. “Aether, within a human body, is, in essence, like another soul, and like a soul, aether is only severed from the body through death.”
Chapter 17
“Not an option,” Zamir snapped, his voice lowered to keep the conversation private. “You’re not going to die just so Kai or the Beltiamatu empire can live.”
Ginny blinked and recoiled, her shoulders stiffening from the harshness of his reply.
He had shocked her. No damn surprise. His own response had certainly startled him.
The immediate, visceral reaction was on the same scale as realizing that Kai was dying.
As if losing Ginny would hurt as much as losing Kai—
No. Zamir ground his teeth. She’s…not for me. She’s not even like me—whatever I am.
Ginny stammered a reply, “I…I meant…you needed to know all the options…you know what I mean?”
She was repeating herself. How badly had his response unsettled her?
And why?
What the hell was she—a human—doing here, trapped amid the madness that the Beltiamatu brought upon themselves?
She didn’t belong. She wasn’t responsible.
Ginny didn’t need to pay for his terrible decisions with her life.
Zamir gripped her shoulders. “Who else knows this?”
“Thaleia. She was with me when I searched the data archives—”
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of the silver-haired mermaid among the mer-warriors following him from a respectful distance.
“Stop it, Zamir,” Ginny chided. “She’s on our side. She’s got as much to lose as anyone else.”
His thoughts raced, censoring out all personal implications of what Ginny could mean to him. He had to focus on the empire. And only on the empire. “She has far more to gain from your death, and from mine. The aether you carry goes into Kai, stabilizing him, saving his life. The aether Badur carries is returned to the Beltiamatu people. And with my death, Badur becomes king.”
“Who comes up with this kind of stuff? You’re paranoid, you know that?” Ginny scowled at him. “Do you see enemies on every side?”
“There are enemies on every side.”
“Thaleia is your son’s mate.”
“Which only gives her all the more reason to hate me for what I’ve done to Badur.”
Ginny fell silent.
Zamir glared at her. “You know I’m right.”
“You don’t know what she went through when Kai was taken from her.”
“No, but I can guess. I was there when Badur was taken from his mother’s arms and placed in mine.” He snarled. The memory was so old as to be ancient, yet it seemed as fresh as if it had occurred yesterday. “I held him against my chest as he screamed for the comfort of her arms. I watched her eyes fix on her child as my guards led her to the center of the throne room. She never stopped looking at her infant son—too young to be without a mother—yet she never pleaded for her life. She knew me too well, and loved me too much, to force me into the position of choosing between her and my responsibilities as the king.”
“Responsibilities?” Ginny pushed Zamir away from her, forcing his hands from her shoulders. A unified gasp rose from the merfolk observing their interaction, but Ginny paid them no attention. “There is nothing responsible about continuing a barbaric custom because it’s been going on for thousands of years. Badur defied tradition by fleeing with Thaleia and Kai. Kai’s defying tradition by refusing Naia. You? You did nothing but choose the easy way out.”
“Easy?” Zamir surged forward, and immediately hated himself for the way Ginny retreated. “Do you think it never crossed my mind to save her? Do you think I didn’t contemplate giving up my throne for her?”
“You don’t even remember her name, or her face. You said so yourself.”
“And if you believe that, then you don’t know me as well as you pretend to. Sometimes lies are the only armor that protects us from what we most hate about ourselves.”
Ginny paled, but she straightened and grabbed his wrist when he would have turned away. “It has to end, Zamir. You know it does. If Kai weren’t so weak, his attention focused on survival almost to the exclusion of everything else, you know that he would challenge you on this matter.”
“So let him challenge me when he is well. You don’t think I want him to be strong enough to challenge me, to defy me? It destroys me to see him so weak, so exhausted that he can’t see straight. I don’t care what he chooses to do with Naia. Let him break with tradition; I don’t care. The Beltiamatu are his people. The future is his future. If he lives, that’s enough for me.”
“But not at the cost of my life?” Ginny asked quietly, throwing his unexpected statement back at him.
“Do you think Kai would accept it?” Zamir retorted. “He already blames himself for dragging you into trouble that had nothing to do with you. How do you think he would feel if you had to die for him to live?”
Ginny raised her chin to meet Zamir’s eyes. “I know he’d feel terrible, but that’s not what I was asking. I was asking about you.”
“This isn’t about me.”
She chuckled softly, the sound without humor. “It started with you, Zamir, with your love for your mother and your desire to free her from servitude to the Daughters of Air. Your journey may have been manipulated and twisted beyond your control into a global catastrophe. The cast of characters may have grown, but if there’s one thing my study of ancient history and mythology taught me is that stories tend to end where they started. You’re going to be there at the end. You’re going to have to make a call, perhaps even choose who lives or dies.” Her jaw tensed. “Do us all a favor and sort out your priorities before you get there.”
He stared at her, shocked into silence. She swam away, somehow managing to look dignified in
spite of her lack of both speed and grace. He called out after her. “Ysiri.”
Ginny turned to look at him. “What?”
Zamir swallowed, the pained motion catching in his throat. “Her name was Ysiri.”
Something flashed over Ginny’s face, but the expression seemed too complex, too layered to decipher. She swam back to him; her small hand slipped into his. Her head tilted, curious, drawing him from the silence of his heart. “She had a way of speaking to me as if I were just Zamir, and not the king. She questioned me, interrupted me, challenged me… She was beautiful.” A stray thought flicked through his mind as he met Ginny’s eyes. Just like you.
“She would have been happy to know that her memory survived her death.”
“It never died,” Zamir managed, his voice hoarse. “If I had let myself, I could have loved her. Seeing her die shook me so badly that I decided never to take on another lover. I had an heir. One was enough; I didn’t need another.”
“We all need love, Zamir.”
“I had love. I had my son—”
“And then he left.”
Zamir fought down the instinctive snarl in his throat, but the sound emerged anyway, torn with anguish. “Generations of his forefathers had fulfilled their responsibility. Why couldn’t he?”
“Because he didn’t want his son to grow up the way he had—alone, with only a father for his family. What he did, he did out of love. Can’t you see that, Zamir?”
“Because he loved his mate and his unborn son more than he loved his people, and his father?” Zamir threw back at her.
Ginny winced. “Love isn’t a zero-sum game, Zamir. His loving someone else doesn’t make him love you any less.”
“But he chose someone else over me.”
“Because they needed his protection more. Not necessarily because he loved them more, but even if he did, that is how he felt. It’s between him and them; it doesn’t change what’s between you and him.”
“If you believe that, you’re naive. His decisions—not his love for them—changed things between us. Love isn’t free, Ginny. There’s a cost to be paid, and sometimes, it’s far more than we imagined.” He stared at Ginny. “My son made his decisions, and if he doesn’t regret the price he paid, then neither do I.”
Zamir turned his back on Ginny and swam away, but her quiet voice stopped him. “Badur doesn’t realize it, and he may never ask for it, but he craves your forgiveness, and Kai’s.”
He twisted around in the water to glare at Ginny. “So he pleads for it by taking the aether core that Kai nearly died to bring back to the Beltiamatu?”
“No, he took the aether core to save Kai’s life.”
Zamir’s breath caught. “You don’t know that.”
“We know that Badur has a history of choosing individual lives over the fate of his kingdom. He did it once when he fled with Thaleia, and again when he gave up his identity as prince to stay with her. What’s stopping him from making that kind of choice for the third time, taking away the aether core to give Kai his best chance at survival—the kingdom be hanged?”
“Kai is still dying!”
“It doesn’t change the fact that Badur is trying, with his limited knowledge and in his limited way, to do what is best for his son. It doesn’t change the love that spurred him to act.”
Zamir snarled. “But it’s wrong!”
“Not to him. He just has different priorities than you do.” Ginny shook his head. “You are having so much trouble with this because there are only two people who have ever defied you. Badur and Kai.”
“Three.” He glared at her. “You.”
She shrugged. “I’m not your subject. I’m not Beltiamatu. And I’m not your family. Nothing in any societal code says I have to listen to you, let alone obey you.”
“Nothing in any societal code says you have to defend my traitorous son who puts his own needs ahead of his peoples.”
“Your son was blinded and castrated. He has lived more than half of his life on the shadowy edges of poor colonies. The life of deprivation and near-constant starvation has aged him far beyond his natural age. That is not a merman who has put his needs ahead of others. Just because he doesn’t define his people the same way you define them, does not make him selfish. He has loved as generously and as unselfishly as has your mother, you, and Kai—because that is the trademark of the royal family. Abundant love, and oversized actions.”
“And a history of bad decision-making.”
Ginny cracked a smile. “Also true, but when actions are oversized, it’s hard for the consequences not to cascade into a crisis.” She drew a deep breath. “All I’m asking is that you try to understand Badur. When you see him again, give him a chance to explain. And stop accusing him of abandoning his son. Kai and Badur have enough issues to sort out without you getting in the way.”
“Without me…” He touched his hand to his chest. “Why are you defending Badur?”
“Because someone has to. You don’t listen to anyone, Zamir. You barely listen to Kai.”
“I listen to you,” he said immediately.
She rolled her eyes. “Only after I say something a half dozen or more times. In different ways, using analogies from different cultures and languages.” She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “You’re focused and determined, Zamir, but it’s hell when it’s time to talk you down from being wrong.”
He drew a deep breath, but it scarcely filled his lungs. Her words whirled through his mind, tangling into a cacophony of accusations. He had to sort it out, but—Not now. His grip tightened on her hand as they turned into a corridor that led down into the earth. The narrow tunnel opened into a vast cavern, and in the middle of the cavern, sheathed in platinum, was a large dome set on a pedestal.
“What is this?” Ginny asked, her voice edged with suspicion.
Zamir glanced over his shoulder and spoke in Beltiamatu. “Where is the target vessel?”
“It has just entered the center of the zone, my lord.”
“Are our warriors ready?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Ginny cut in. “Ready for what?”
Zamir placed his hand on the smooth black panel set into the side of the pedestal. Deep in the earth, something hummed, the increasingly loud vibrations trembling through the ground.
Ginny inhaled sharply. “That’s not the Dirga Tiamatu, is it?”
“No. It’s an electromagnetic pulse device. It also sends out small seismic vibrations.”
“What does it do?”
“It will disrupt the navigation and weapons systems on all vessels in the triangle. It also renders weapons like guns ineffective. The vibrations are keyed precisely to cause the bullets to backfire and jam the guns.”
“Wait…” Ginny’s eyes widened. “The Beltiamatu created the Bermuda Triangle?”
Chapter 18
The erratic vibrations rocking the Endling stirred Kai from his restless, pain-tossed sleep. He rolled onto his side and pushed into a sitting position. From his waist down, he hurt, as if he were nothing but raw flesh. Moving with the slowness of deep fatigue, he raised the blanket that covered him.
He had legs, and he was not covered in blood.
Which meant that the next transformation was possibly minutes away.
Staggering upright, he gripped the rail and leaned on it as he fought his way across the tilting deck to the bridge. “What’s going on?”
Both Meifeng and Corey spun around to gape at him. “Don’t do that, man.” Meifeng pressed his hand to his chest. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”
Corey looked Kai over. “You shouldn’t be on your feet. You’re as pale as death.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t know.” Meifeng turned back to his navigation panel. “The Endling just stopped. The engine went dead in the water, and we’ve lost all our controls.” He tapped the panels. “Screen’s utterly black. It won’t reset. Nothing. It’s like it’s not even there.”
&
nbsp; Kai looked around. “Where’s my grandfather? And Ginny?”
“They went with Thaleia down to some place called Oceri, and told us to keep tracking the Atlantean warship, but not to engage.” Meifeng pointed at a large ship less than a league away. “That’s their ship, over there.”
“Wait… My grandfather said Oceri?”
Corey nodded. “That’s what I heard too.”
Kai frowned as he tried to sort through the tangle of his exhausted mind. “Oceri is northeast of Bermuda…”
“That’s right. That’s when Zamir and the others left the ship. We’ve kept following the warship southwest, toward the Panama Canal.”
“We’re in the Bermuda Triangle now, aren’t we?” Kai asked.
“Yes, but all that crock about the Bermuda Triangle—” Meifeng turned slowly to stare at Kai’s face. The realization of the truth drained the color from his cheeks. “—is not a whole lot of crock, is it?”
“No. Oceri’s powered by an aether core—little larger than a shard—but more than enough to power the technology the Beltiamatu used to keep attention focused on the Bermuda Triangle.”
“But Oceri’s not even in the Bermuda Triangle.”
“But if all the attention is focused there, then it’s not focused on them. When merfolk faded into myth, there was no need for those devices. Our best protection was mankind’s disbelief.”
“So what does it mean that those devices have turned on once more?” Meifeng asked.
“What are our coordinates?” Kai asked.
Meifeng hastened to unroll a map. He pointed to a spot southwest of Bermuda. “We’re here.”
Kai traced his finger a league farther southwest. “And the Atlanteans are here…” He jabbed his finger at a point on the map. “Right in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.”
“So what does it mean?” Meifeng asked again.
“It means that my grandfather has rallied the Oceri colony. The Beltiamatu are preparing for war.” And we’re trapped—
An odd tapping sound burst through a blur of static. “The old radio!” Corey dug through the clutter in a side drawer. “Give me pen and paper.” Frowning, he scribbled down the words as the message came through, one letter at a time.
Cursed Legacy: Lord of the Ocean #3 Page 10
