“Be brave,” she pleads with me. “Alpha children shed no tears. If you are weak, it will be used against me. They’ll say I am soft and human.”
The high minister calls for the crowd’s attention. “It is my honor and duty to invite the high accuser to present his truths.”
“Thank you, most blessed high minister,” the Sirena says. He turns to the crowd, flashing a smile to the prime and the council. Then he turns to us, and his smile turns to a sad little frown. “All look upon this Daughter of Sirena, who has taken the human name of Summer Walker but is known to us as—”
What comes out is moaning and clicking, almost like dolphin song. It’s my mother’s real name.
“She stands accused of treason. She turned her back on her own people and chose a life with the humans, in direct violation of the wishes of her prime.”
“A life I was ordered to make, high accuser!” my mother shouts. I’m startled by her fierce words.
“Indeed?” he says. “You were told to build a bond with humans that would be stronger than your responsibility to your mission? I was there when these tasks were given to you. I don’t recall anyone telling you that you were allowed to choose humans over your own people.”
The crowd barks in agreement.
“Perhaps the mission was a bit naive, high accuser!”
The crowd roars and the prime barks something angry and, I’m guessing, offensive. His words spur the crowd on, and they rage at my mother until the high accuser calls for their silence.
“Our prime is naive? How insolent you’ve become here in the air. But who can blame you? Twenty years walking on legs and living like a human has softened you. Perhaps the lure of a roof over your head was too enticing.”
My eyes find Fathom. He stands at his father’s side. I can’t stand to look at him. He could stop this. He’s a prince! But no, he’s going to punish my dishonesty by letting my mother face this horror. Right now I wish I could challenge him myself.
“We were not told that we’d be here for twenty years, high accuser,” my mother says. “We were not told that we would be abandoned.”
“Abandoned?”
“Yes, abandoned! Not a word from any of you for decades. Not a message to tell us what the next step of this glorious plan was, or even the purpose of our sacrifice. Now I have learned that we were spies, sent to prepare for an invasion that the prime has bungled.”
All eyes turn to the prime. Even from here I can see his face is red.
“So we did what we were told. We started families and made friends. Do you really think that the influences of this world would not seep into us? Do you think you could have withstood it?”
“I am not on trial, Sirena.”
“Yes, you are. All of you are!” my mother shouts.
The crowd grows silent.
“For twenty years we honored the prime’s wishes, and what good did it do? Look how you treat us now. We are like jellyfish underfoot. How many of you have cast your eyes at the ground rather than look at me—or Terrance? I hear you call his son half-breed trash. Is that the honor that we have earned for surrendering everything we loved? Is that Alpha appreciation?”
The high accuser breaks into a titter, and the crowd joins him. “Appreciation? You are a subject. You do as you’re told. Unless, of course, you are somehow more special than the rest of us.”
The crowd boos my mother, and the high accuser smiles.
“She was going to join you!” I shout.
The crowd goes quiet as I step into the circle.
“She was on that beach the day you came. I was there. I made her leave.”
“You made her leave?” the high accuser says with exaggerated disbelief. I hate how he turns words into jokes.
“I dragged her away,” I say.
“Is that how it happened, Summer Walker?”
My mother shakes her head.
“I can’t lie. I can’t defend myself against dishonor by acting dishonorably. I left the beach because I chose to stay with my husband and child. I have a loyalty to my people, high accuser, but I built a family during the time I was here, a family that I was instructed to create by the prime, and they needed me as well. My daughter is Alpha. To walk away from her—would that not be a betrayal to my people as well?”
“You chose a half-breed—”
My mother leaps forward, clearing the thirty or so feet between her and the high accuser. When she lands, she snatches the man by the neck and knocks him to the sand.
“My daughter is no half-breed, Son of Sirena. Your words may charm this crowd, but your insults will not go unanswered. I challenge you right now,” my mother cries. “Watch me tear that clever tongue out of your mouth!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The crowd roars its approval and stomps its feet.
“The accused cannot challenge the representatives of the court. It is law,” the high accuser chokes, and scampers back.
My mother allows him to stand.
“When this fiasco of a trial is over, it is law that I can challenge you, and for your insult I will spill your blood into the Great Abyss!” my mother cries.