The glacier rubble pounds against the magical shield. I don’t look, my eyes closed as I cling desperately to Elian, praying the defense holds. Grateful that the others are safe on the far side of the water.
Snow chokes the air and I cough against Elian’s chest as the ice crystals slip into my gills. He squeezes me closer to him, so tight, it should hurt. But my bones feel like dust already, and with every rock that hammers away at our shield, my skull bursts.
A lifetime spins around us before the crumbling finally stops and a weight lifts from my battered body. I search to make sure the others are unscathed, but the air is an expanse of white. Elian runs his hands over my shoulders and then down my arms. For a moment I’m not sure why, and then I realize that he’s checking for injuries. Making sure I’m okay until he can see it for himself.
His hand slides into my hair, and I want nothing more than for this feeling of total contentment to stay like a shelter over my heart. But as with all things, it seizes, wiped clean as soon as the world comes back into focus.
When the fog clears, my mother’s body lies broken on the snow.
I swim to her, Elian following behind. His crew heaves us both up from the water. Madrid stares at my fin, but her hand firmly grips mine. I want to explain things to her – to them all – but the words don’t come to mind.
Elian settles beside me, gathering me in his arms. When he lifts me, my hands curl around his neck as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. I don’t think about how it feels to have him hold me – to truly see every inch of me. I can’t focus on how much my heart knocks against my chest, because whenever I catch sight of the crippled tentacle before us, it stops dead once more.
The sirens gather around my mother, slithering away as Elian approaches with me in his arms. He places me onto the ground beside her and takes a step back to give me the space I need but don’t want.
The Sea Queen is a dent in the snow.
Her great piceous tentacles cross together like the silk of a spiderweb, creating a pattern of broken limbs. There’s no blood, and for a moment I think she can’t possibly be dead. It doesn’t seem right that she can look so pristine, like the sharply carved statue of a slain beast.
I stare in stunned silence, fin gleaming against the sleet, the weight of two armies on my back. I wait like the dutiful daughter, for the sea foam to froth from her bones and melt her like the ice she lies on. Seconds pass with nothing but her oddly jarred body and the red, shimmering light of her eyes.
Nobody speaks. Time becomes something outside of the mountain, in the world below. Here there is only silence and the infinity that comes with waiting. It takes a lifetime before I finally hear a small shuffle of movement and smell the fresh scent of black sweets on the wind.
Elian crouches beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth. We sit like that for an eternity until, finally, the Sea Queen fades away.
43
Elian
THE RAIN COMES IN torrents, slicking my hair to my neck. The sun is still high, like a crescent half-hidden behind the clouds, creating a warp of colors in the air. My sister’s kingdom glistens somewhere behind me, though with our destination so near, it may as well be a world away.
In a sense, I suppose it is a world away.
“Not long now,” Kye says, clapping a hand on Madrid’s back. “Soon you’ll be able to enjoy me in my full glory.”
She arches an eyebrow at him, a smile well past coy on her lips. “Drowning, you mean?”
“No,” he says, with mock injury. “Soaking wet.”
Madrid eases his hand off with a frown. “I’d prefer the drowning.”
I grin at them and pull the compass from my pocket. The point spins madly in all directions, letting me know that Kye’s right. We’re near. Close to a place where truth and deceit mingle alongside each other like old friends. Where every word spoken is soaked in both and neither.
The Saad sprints through the water, and I walk to the edge of the ship as Torik steers a little to the left. Below, our guides keep the pace as easily as if we were trawling along in a rowboat. Their fins rainbow through the beaten water like prismatic arrows. Blurs and blends and hues creating a shield of color around my ship.
They swim with no effort at all, and I almost want to be insulted that the Saad’s pace is so easily matched. Instead I take it as a compliment. That the Saad can keep step with them is proof of her glory.
A few of the sirens break apart from the throng and head to the front of the ship, leading the way. As if I don’t already have it memorized. It’s a little funny to see them settle into these precariously carved roles so easily. Guiding sailors, rather than stalking their ships for signs of weakness. Helping, instead of hunting.
The Sea Queen has forged a new world, as much on land as in sea.
Once the eyes of Keto were reunited, creating a trident without limit, there were as many choices to be made as there were promises to be broken. Though one thing remained clear throughout it all: The ocean needed a queen. I spent a lifetime trying to evade becoming king, knowing that Amara would make a far better ruler – her heart staying grounded for every beat mine wandered – but even I understood that some things were more important than whim. Dreams could not always triumph over duty, and compromise was the foundation to any good peace treaty.
Lira knew it too. And so instead of exploring the world, she created a new one.
As Diávolos opened its waters and the sea kingdom of Keto threw wide its gates, the human kingdoms returned the gesture. At least, most of them. Peace doesn’t come easy, but over half the world has accepted the new order, and with the backing of the new Midasan queen and her roaming brother, hesitancy is becoming a thing of the past. New treaties are being struck, and after the initial dozen returned from the sea kingdom of Keto with their lives intact, others have made the journey to seek an audience with the Sea Queen. To offer trade alongside treaties and bask in the wonders of this newly unlocked dynasty.
Kingdom one hundred and one.
“Captain!” Torik bellows from above, signaling our arrival.
I don’t need his call, because I know the moment we cross from human waters into the seas of Diávolos. The water becomes an endless stream of sapphires, blending into the sky and catching every ray the sun scatters down. There’s no more rain, or darkness. It’s brighter than anything has a right to be, but not warm. Never warm. The sapphires are crisp and glacial, soaking into the tips of my fingers. Arctic blue glazes over us all.
Below, the sirens chorus.