Clashing Tempest (Men of Myth Book 3)

by Brandon Witt

  I couldn’t help but smile at the fairy. He was a strange creature, but I had to admire his definitive stance on what he believed was right and wrong. I knew he was trying to take on the fairy royalty in his fight for “social justice” for the less fortunate-looking, and I appreciated him taking the time to help fight for my sister. Well, maybe not fight, but at least be willing to play standby for when the time might arise.

  I wasn’t sure if it was seeing Caitlin in such a state or simply my desire to end the debate. “Fine. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’ll learn something from the vampire.”

  “You know we don’t need your approval to follow him. You’re not the commander and chief in all this. We’re all trying to free Cynthia.”

  “Yeah, Cate, I know. Sheesh! I’m just processing, trying to wrap my head around it. Forgive me if I’m nervous about losing my middle sister to the same vampire who pretty much single-handedly ruined our family. Or at least started the whole damn thing.” I hesitated. I’d decided I wasn’t going to bring it up, but now it seemed like it might help Caitlin calm down enough to avoid making a rash decision. “Besides, I think it might be good to buy us a little more time. I think Cynthia’s power is growing. If we wait a little longer, maybe it will increase to the point that it will make getting her free more likely.”

  Caitlin looked at me skeptically. “Her power is growing? That’s rather unlikely, don’t you think, since she’s way past puberty?”

  “My power is growing.” Well, that was the wrong thing to say. It had always been a sore spot that Cynthia and I were stronger than Caitlin and Christina.

  “Well, I’d hope. You’ve had a fairy and a powerful wizard training you.”

  I didn’t remind her that Omar hadn’t exactly been training me.

  Cate’s voice grew even more cynical. “What exactly makes you think Cynthia is getting more powerful? You haven’t even been able to speak with her.”

  With a sweep of my hand, I gestured across the top of the small table between the two beds. An image superimposed itself over the smooth wooden surface, only partly obscured by the base of the lamp.

  Caitlin peered down at the scene, her gaze flicking back and forth as she followed the pacing of the figure. Her voice was a whisper. “Is that Cynthia?”

  I didn’t answer. I was as surprised as she was. I hadn’t meant to conjure Cynthia’s image. I’d just been so frustrated.

  Looking up from the table, Caitlin merely stared at me.

  With another flick of my hand, Cynthia disappeared, the table returning to normal. “Her powers are different than before. I can’t explain it.” I searched for the right words. “They flicker differently. In an unusual way. She must be getting stronger—she’s even been able to manipulate fire. Not like you.”

  “Apparently she’s not the only one getting stronger.” Caitlin gave a look that I’d seen too many times before. One that I knew wouldn’t lead to anything good. Or at least to anything safe. Especially combined with her wounded pride. “If the flickering fire doesn’t deliver the salvation I’m certain it’s capable of, or home movies on the table, I’ve been thinking of a plan of my own. An actual plan. Granted, one that requires more effort than standing around staring at some sparks sputtering from torches. If we could trap the vampire somehow, we could torture him for information or something.”

  I glared at her, still smarting from her dismissal. I knew I wasn’t explaining it very well, but Cynthia was getting stronger. I was certain. And, trapping a vampire? While often hotheaded, she was never stupid. Following the redhead was nothing but stupid.

  Apparently satisfied with getting her way, Caitlin turned her attention back to her favorite pastime. Antagonizing her younger brother. “How’s the whole mer thing going? Got the water thing figured out yet?”

  I glowered at her.

  Schwint spoke up before I had the chance to retort. “Actually, yeah. We think so. Unfortunately. It wasn’t too hard. We had it figured out a few nights ago. I guess we won’t know for sure we’ve made the water safe for the mers until we try it out, but I’m willing to bet we have. I think it’s probably only a matter of days before we have to admit to Gwala we’ve figured it out before he gets dangerously impatient. Besides that, I doubt we should have the mers wait in that stagnant water much longer.”

  Newton’s voice was a growl. “It would be a better death than the fate the Royals have in store for them.”

  No one spoke for a moment, unable to disagree with him or offer any solution.

  The fairy took on a more defensive posture. “If you had any sense of justice, that is exactly what you’d let happen. Let the water end their suffering. Let them die and be released from their torture.”

  “And sacrifice Cynthia because of it?” Caitlin’s tone matched Newton’s ferocity. Surpassed it, actually.

  “She is only one. The mers are many.”

  My tone was softer. “You wouldn’t say such a thing if you knew her. There’s no one sweeter or more loving than Cynthia.”

  “Even more reason. How do you think she would feel knowing that, to pay for her life, not even her guarantee of freedom, but simply for her life, others had to be sacrificed, endure some twisted form of forced copulation, and their offspring suffer the same fate?”

  Caitlin looked like she was going to spring across the bed and rip into him. As it was, both of the paintings were rattling on the walls in response to her fury. “If you’re not really here to save Cynthia, then fucking leave. You shouldn’t have come along to begin with. In fact, if you don’t leave right now, I’m gonna—”

  I stood, cutting her off by placing my hand over her outstretched fingers, which reached toward Newton. “Leave him alone. I’ve thought the same thing.”

  She wheeled on me, the surge of her power forcing me back to the bed. “You’ve what?”

  I nearly shoved back with power of my own, then thought better of it. The last thing we needed was to destroy the hotel with one of our sibling matches. I did push myself back into a standing position. “Well, he’s right. Cynthia would be the first to say that one life wasn’t worth what is happening to the mers. What’s been happening to them for centuries.”

  Her anger gave way to a look of utter shock, like she couldn’t believe it was me she was seeing. “So, you’re what? Going to sacrifice our sister for a bunch of creatures we’ve never even met?”

  I shook my head, unable to look either her or Newton in the eye. “No. I can’t. But not because I think it’s the right thing, but because I can’t bear to lose her. I’m too weak to do what I should do.”

  “Then you’re no better than the warlock that was there before. And you’ll suffer the same fate as him.” Newton’s tone held no hate. His words were only a statement, though one filled with disgust. My stomach churned as Omar’s expression before Sonia began to feed floated in my memory.

  Schwint stood and slipped his arm around me. “Shut up, Newton. Caitlin’s right. You knew why we came here when you joined. When you asked to join, if you recall. If you’re not here to help save Cynthia, then leave.”

  “I didn’t know there was an enslaved species in the mix. And you’re fine with that sacrifice for one life? Just because it’s one you care about? You’re no better than the fairy royalty that keeps both of our families suppressed because they don’t measure up.”

  Without seeing him, I knew the barb hit its mark, but Schwint didn’t waver. “Finn and I have talked a lot about this. I agree that it is easy to look at it the way you are, and you’re not completely wrong. There is another manner in which to see it as well. There might be a way to save both Cynthia and the mers, at least in time.”

  “And how many more atrocities are they to endure in the meantime, on the off chance we’re successful?”

  “I’m not in charge of the world, Newton. And neither are you, even though you fancy yourself to be. I can only do what I can do, and right now I can try to figure out a way to help Finn and Caitlin’s sister, and if
there comes a way to help the mers, I’ll do that too.”

  “The way is here now. You’re just too weak to take it.”

  Schwint lost the calm he’d been holding on to. “Again, Pewlet. You’re free to leave. You’ve made your voice clear, and you are outvoted. Do not bring it up again.”

  I glanced across to the other bed. Newton was glaring daggers at Schwint while Caitlin was looking at him like she’d finally really started to like him. I couldn’t decide why I was more ashamed of myself—that I could see Newton’s point of view and could consider it an option to sacrifice Cynthia, or that I was too selfish to act on it. Part of me had fantasized that when the time came to force the mers to mate at Gwala’s bidding, I wouldn’t be able to, that I’d stand up to the vampire king and suffer the consequences. As horrible as it was, I knew it was just that—a fantasy. While I couldn’t picture myself causing such horrors to others, I knew that I would. For Cynthia, I would.

  Thirty-Two

  FINN DE MORISCO

  The water was pleasantly warm. If I slipped into it, it probably would feel differently. Maybe it just seemed that way because of the coolness of the spherical cave that enclosed it. Removing my fingers from the water, I shook them off, the droplets landing on the pink marble and glistening in the light from the torches.

  As with everything else in the Vampire Cathedral, the beauty was off-putting. Down here on my own, without Gwala or Sonia to mar the experience, I had to admit it was the most beautiful place I’d ever been. The dining chamber, with its jutting cliff walls opening to the sky, might be lovelier, but after the banquet, I couldn’t think of a more horrid place in the world.

  But even in the quiet, simple splendor, this chamber was all just a cover for more atrocities. Worse than anything Omar had experienced while impaled on that metallic table. At least his torture had been short-lived. This species had been in misery for centuries, for generations.

  Scooting away, I rested my back against the curved wall, drawing my knees up to my chest. I stared at the shimmering surface of the pool, then let my focus drop to the mirror-imaged bottom below. So simple in design. So simplistic and effortless. Yet somewhere, a passage led to a cell full of mermaids and mermen. Waiting for me to make their water safe, or at least keep it that way. Waiting for me to force them to do things they didn’t want to do. Waiting for me to bring the same atrocities to their children.

  Since meeting the redheaded merman with Gwala, I’d been able to feel the mers’ presence any time I tried, no matter where I was in the Cathedral. Here, so close to them, I couldn’t block them out if I wanted to. Some nights I’d wake up from a dead sleep, hearing their heartbeats pounding through Schwint’s and my room. He never heard them. Whether it was because my power was growing or due to some unwanted connection, I wasn’t certain.

  While I sat beside the pool, I tried to picture them, seeing them all with the same emerald tails and red hair. All bound like the merman had been. Maybe they were chained together, or to the walls or ceiling, unable to swim.

  I wished I’d never seen the merman. Never seen his beautiful face, the inhuman sheen of his skin. Never seen the creature of fairy tales. Never seen his eyes that were only filled with hate or pure emptiness. Maybe there wasn’t even a truly conscious being to save—maybe he’d retreated within himself so far he could never return.

  But it wasn’t just one. They’d been there for centuries, and the continual pounding of their hearts made them seem countless. Although, no matter how many there were living under the Cathedral, who knew how many had been eaten? I pictured the gold-and-silver table—the merman skewered on the spikes, taking Omar’s place. I was afraid to guess how many times that scene must have played out over the years.

  I could end it. End it all. Rise from where I was curled up powerless against the milky-pink marble. That was the horror of it all. I wasn’t powerless. Not any longer. If I could cleanse the water, I could poison it as well. End it quickly. For all of us. For the mers. For Cynthia. For me.

  I thought of Schwint somewhere above me within the Cathedral, giving me the time alone I’d asked for. Waiting for me to return. Maybe he could get away before they caught him. But he wouldn’t. Even if he could.

  Maybe Caitlin and Newton could survive, though.

  No, Caitlin wouldn’t either. She’d fight. She’d fight and die.

  Maybe Newton. His words from a few hours before echoed in my mind. Calling me a coward, saying I was no better than Omar.

  End it now. Right now.

  That would be the right thing. Free us all. Make it quick.

  Mom and Dad. I hadn’t really thought of them in ages. They’d become some abstract figures of a past life. Nothing real any longer. In this moment, though, they were as I remembered them. My parents. Finally safe. Even if they lost the three of us, they would finally be safe. Gwala would have no reason to harm them. There wouldn’t be any reason to. I’d be dead.

  A new realization clenched at my heart. One I hadn’t even considered before. Through all the debating with Schwint, then with Caitlin and Newton, none of us had considered the possibility, which told me that home was just as abstract to the rest of them as to me.

  I felt certain I understood Gwala, at least enough to make fairly accurate predictions of what he might do. After Omar, I didn’t plan on being taken unaware again.

  I wouldn’t be dead if I released the mers from their captivity. Schwint would be. So would Caitlin, and Newton, if he stayed. Gwala probably wouldn’t kill Cynthia, since he was aware her power was close to my own. Even if he did, he’d keep me around. Let me suffer a little bit more.

  As in a flip show, Omar, then the merman were replaced upon the table. First Dad, then Mom. Then Christina. Christina with her growing belly. Ricky. Peter. Saul.

  Peter. Saul.

  Saul.

  My nephews. Both of them. But it was the youngest, Saul, that the rushing flip show paused upon. His tiny little body upon that table. His huge brown eyes pleading before Sonia’s hair fell between us as she struck.

  “I have heard of tears.”

  The quiet voice caused me to flinch back so hard my head bashed against the marble.

  I whipped my head toward the door. Still shut, the stone unmoved from where I’d willed it closed after I’d entered.

  A movement caught my attention, and I looked back at the pool.

  Her face hadn’t fully emerged from the water. Only her forehead and pale eyes were visible, the rest of her body distorted under the ripples across the pool.

  I stared at her, part in wonder, part in horror, like I’d been caught doing something wrong. Maybe I had.

  We stared at each other.

  After a moment, I drew in a breath, having forgotten to breathe. The whispered sound filled the room, breaking the spell between us.

  “May I touch them?”

  My brain caught on quickly. She was speaking in my head somehow, her voice not really audible, but there nonetheless.

  “Touch—” The harshness of my voice caused me to pause. The sound another intrusion between us. After all the practicing with Schwint, the switch was automatic. “Touch what?”

  “Your tears.”

  I lifted my fingers to my face and felt the wetness across my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized.

  Hesitating only a heartbeat, I leaned toward the pool, the motion readjusting my body to where I was on hands and knees in front of her. I stretched forward, pivoting so my face and shoulders jutted out over the surface of the pool.

  Please let her pull me under. Take me to where the others are. End it.

  Long, thin fingers emerged from the water and stretched toward my face. Gently, her fingertips brushed across my cheek, leaving a trail of moisture as she pulled away.

  She held her fingers in front of her face.

  I couldn’t see how she’d be able to discern my tears from the water on her skin, but her eyes narrowed in concentration for nearly a minute before her gaze returned to
me. “What are they for?”

  I nearly laughed. Good question. What were they for? They definitely weren’t helping anything. Again, my nephews became real once more. Even more so than the mermaid in front of me. “They’re for someone I love.”

  She considered that, as if searching for some meaning in the words. Maybe she found some; maybe she dismissed them for the useless gibberish they were. Her hand slipped below the surface as she rose farther out of the water. Through the ripples I could make out a grayish-white tail beating rapidly below her.

  I drew back a few inches as she emerged to her shoulders. Long, thin blonde hair plastered against her face. She wasn’t beautiful like the merman had been. Just the opposite. Her face was off somehow. A bit asymmetrical. One of her ears jutted out between the wet ropes of her hair. It was malformed. The curve of the upper fold, thick and overly pronounced, came too far down, reminding me vaguely of pictures I’d seen of a wrestler’s cauliflower ear. Gwala had mentioned problems with inbreeding as he’d explained my responsibilities. Maybe she was one of the results, though I’d gotten the impression that such offspring were quickly taken care of.

  She drew closer, her hand once again rising out of the water, and this time she grasped the edge of the pool. As she leaned against the wall, the ripples across the surface ceased, but her lower body was hidden. She looked like nothing more than an unfortunate-looking girl with oddly glistening skin, an attribute that had made the merman even more beautifully ethereal. On her, it only increased the impression that something wasn’t quite right.

  “You spoke in the way of the mers.” Despite her less-than-beautiful appearance, her voice was gentle and soothing, though sad.

  “I am a witch. We are able to speak without using our voices as well.” I nearly explained I’d only just learned I had such an ability, but doubted that would help the situation.

  “I know what you are.” Again she inspected me. This time I sensed judgment within her scrutiny. “You are the same species as the other. The evil one. Though he never spoke to us in such a manner.”