Terrance nods. “And believe it or not, he’s the most level-headed of the bunch. He has openly defied this prime, and many think of him as a successor to the throne if things change. Nor has many friends, and if you can win him over, others may vote along with him. It’s a long shot but it’s the best chance we have.”
I look at the other members of the council. Next to Nor is Fathom’s stepmother, Minerva, wearing a sinister smile. Next is an elderly, bitter-faced Nix leaning on a cane, and a Ceto woman who looks bored. There’s a man with lavender skin and a fin on his back, and Nathan, the same pufferfish man I pissed off on my first day at the camp. A beautiful man with golden hair and raspberry-colored scales on his neck and hands is next—clearly a Sirena. The three remaining people are wildly different from the others. One has the upper body of a man but a lower body that divides into three snake tails. The second looks almost human, except for his milky-green complexion and the sharp, barbed teeth in his mouth. I know him from my mother’s descriptions. His kind call themselves the Feige. He’s ghastly, the stuff of nightmares. The third looks like a little man curled inside a massive hermit-crab shell. He’s something out of a low-budget horror film—Attack of the Crab People. For some reason he’s more terrifying to me than all the others.
“Is that a Rusalka?” I ask, remembering my mother’s conversations.
Terrance looks at me hard. “What do you know of Rusalka?”
“I’ve heard you use the word, and my mom told me some things. I know they are slaves.”
“Do not mention them in this place,” he says sternly.
“Because they are untouchables?”
“No, because they are mass murderers,” he says. “They are the great terror that destroyed the empire. I’ll tell you more when there aren’t so many ears.”
The prime descends the steps to wild applause. He charges into the circle, and the Alpha, including Terrance, pound their chests three times, raise their fists into the air, and let out a bark. A moment later Fathom enters, and the crowd salutes again. His face is bloody and recently wounded. I wonder if he got that fighting off a challenge or if that’s a gift from his dear old dad for falling in love with a bottom feeder. It hurts to see him again. Why didn’t he come to me? I deserve a chance to explain why I lied to him.
“Bow your heads,” Terrance whispers.
Bex and I do as we are told, and the high minister speaks.
“The warriors of the ten clans gather today to judge the life of one of our own. I apologize for speaking to you in the human language, but the accuser’s family does not know our glorious dialect, so today’s proceedings will be spoken for their ears, as is their right.”
The crowd boos.
The old woman is not intimidated by their anger. “At this time, as the high minister, it is my right and duty to demand praise and respect for the Great Abyss, the giver and taker of all life, the beginning and the end of the sea, and mouth that feeds the world. Show your gratitude for its many blessings.”
Everyone thumps their chest again, raises their hands, and barks. The noise rises into the sky, terrorizing a small flock of seagulls.
“I call on each of you to witness the defense of one accused of a most heinous offense to the First Men. Bring her forth,” she shouts.
Terrance turns to me. “Don’t sit quietly and watch. Fight, shout, do your best to prove your mother’s points. This isn’t like an American court of law. Boldness is respected by these people, so storm right into that circle and get in their faces. The more of a spectacle you make, the better your mother’s chances.”
“We need a little of the wild thing,” Bex says, taking my hand and squeezing.
“I also have a message for you from Arcade. She says to be prepared.”
“For what? Is she going to kill me?” I cry.
“You’ll see.”
A short, stocky Sirena with long brown hair enters the circle to rousing cheers. His neck and hands are alight with blue and gray scales. He wears a robe made of bleached white shells.
“That’s the high accuser. He’s making the case against your mother,” Terrance explains. “I have to go.”
“You can’t leave us here,” I cry.
“I have to, Lyric. Do what I told you. I pray the tide turns in your favor.”
He spins around and disappears into the throng.
“Where are you going?” I shout, but he doesn’t come back.
“Lyric! There she is!” Bex cries.
I turn and see my mother being dragged into the circle by two Selkie guards. They toss her to the ground like she’s garbage and then spit on her. They’ve dressed her in her own suit of armor and she looks exhausted, but she gets to her feet and stands tall. Bex and I rush to her side, and she wraps herself around me, kissing us both.
“Have you heard anything about your father?” she asks.
“They arrested him,” I explain. “They’ve taken him to the camp.”
“You’ll have to find him, Lyric. You can’t let them hurt him.”
“We’ll find him, Mom,” I correct her.