Lord of the Deep (27 page)

Screaming at the top of her voice, she shifted back into her hideous, fish-headed natural state, stormed out of the cage, and plunged headlong into the subterranean pool, disappearing beneath the waves she had created.

V
ega hid in the shadows of an underwater ledge as the Waterwitch streaked past. Following at a safe distance, he saw her head for the open sea. That she was in a blind rage was evident. He picked up the vibration of her mental screams; they were deafening. Hoping she wouldn’t be returning soon, he turned back, making his way through the underwater passages that led to her domain.

She had been in such a taking that her bulk in fish form had stirred up the silt at the bottom, making visibility difficult. Practically blind in the sifting stuff, he resorted to the mantra once more, praying Pio would answer. He’d been missing too long. Fears that the summoner was dead had begun to gnaw at his reason. What would they do without Pio? He wasn’t immortal, but sorcery and the gods had endowed him with longevity beyond that of other swordfish in order to serve the Lord of the Deep. He had many years ahead of him, or would have had. No! He wouldn’t think of Pio in the past tense. He was alive—he had to be! It was then that he heard the swordfish scream.

Swimming blind in the murky water toward the sound, Vega parted the kelp and the sea grass and the muck dredged up from the bottom, to say nothing of the schools of frightened fish darting all about, and came upon the cage with Pio trapped inside. His heart sank. The fish had scraped nearly all the scales off one side of his body trying to fit through the bars. His regal sword, razors harp and deadly, was nicked and dented, and his eyes were bloodred and bulging.

“
Pio!
” Vega cried, “Ah, Pio….” Reaching through the bars, he stroked the frazzled fish, whose whole body trembled. “We have to get you out of there. Where is Simeon?”

The swordfish spun in a circle and sped toward the ledge of the Waterwitch’s dungeon, where the cage he was trapped in was hung. Vega felt his way around the cage, and hauled himself up on the shelf. His gaze darted about the dimly lit chamber, and when his sharp eyes spied Simeon’s cage, he hauled himself out of the water and ran to him, while Pio spun in circles rejoicing behind, his razor sharp sword stabbing through the bars.

“Simeon!” Vega cried, frantically searching for a lock—a hasp—anything that would free his brother.

Simeon surged to his feet and ran to the bars. “It’s no use,” he said. “She’s used her magic to lock me in here. Megaleen…is she all right?”

“She was asleep when I left, Simeon, so was Risa. The Waterwitch drugged Risa or put a spell on her. I couldn’t wake her. That’s how she got your sealskin out of the chest in my chamber.” Just then, the sealskin caught his eye hanging on the wall and he ran to it. “Here it is!” he cried, reaching toward it.

“No!” Simeon thundered, but too late. Vega ran headlong into what seemed like an invisible wall. He struck it hard. Bouncing off it, he was thrown to the floor. “She’s cast an aura around it, Vega. You didn’t think she’d just leave it there in plain sight unprotected, did you?”

Vega shook himself like a dog. The room spun around him as he staggered to his feet and returned to Simeon in the cage.

“Throne of the gods!” Vega moaned.

“Why do you think I’m still here?” Simeon said. “I would have strangled the life out of that odious hag with my bare hands if I wasn’t afraid I’d rot in here. Look at the rest of the cages—
look!
”

Vega did as he bade him. Some were empty, but others held bodies at various stages of decomposition. Most were skeletons, while others were more recent kills. Judging from the look of them, it appeared that some of their flesh had been eaten. He grimaced. Choking back bile, he covered his mouth and staggered back to Simeon. Only then did he recognize the foul stench that hung like a cloud about the place.

“I was afraid if I killed her I would never get out of here—never get that sealskin back. If she dies with the secret of the spells that imprison me here, I will become like those”—he gestured toward the other cages—“and then what becomes of Megaleen—of any of us?”

Vega raked his hair back from his brow and began to pace.

“There isn’t time for that!” Simeon said. “Get Pio out of that cage. He’s nearly beaten himself to death trying to break free.”

“How?”

“She told me she had cast an aura about this chamber as well as my sealskin. You couldn’t reach the skin, but you were able to reach me. She must have cancelled at least that part of it when she fled this place. You have to try. He will kill himself trying to break out of there, and if she would eat the flesh of those poor devils”—he gestured toward the cages again—“she would devour him in a heartbeat. She has already mentioned doing just that. Have you seen her?”

Vega nodded. “She was heading for the open sea in a blind passion when I arrived. What happened here?”

“Never mind that now. She could return at any moment. See if you can free Pio. If you cannot, go and fetch the others to help you; all those who joined the search on the Isle of Mists. You will need to bring them in any case. We cannot do this alone, Vega. And see that Megaleen stays put.”

“Where is your eel skin suit?”

Simeon nodded toward a bench in the corner, where it lay folded neatly. “See if you can poke it through the bars.”

“Is that wise? Suppose she returns before we do. Won’t she wonder how you got it?”

“Hah! Let her wonder. Let her believe I possess a little magic myself. She is obsessed over mating with me. Let us just say I would feel safer robed than naked.”

Vega snatched the suit and shoved it into the cage. Emboldened when that worked, he took hold of the bars attempting to free Simeon, but cried out and pulled his hands back as the metal scorched them.

“Teeth of the gods!” he seethed, soothing his burned fingers. “Do they do that to you?”

“No. I do not know what magic holds me or how to fight it as I am. I’ve lost nearly all of my powers without my sealskin. Never mind that. Just go quickly, and remember what I said about Megaleen…Tell her nothing of this, and see that she doesn’t leave the palace.”

Vega plunged back into the water and examined Pio’s cage again. The bars were not as strong as the ones on the dungeon cages. It more closely resembled a large crustacean trap, strongly made, but the bars were not impossible to bend. It took several tries, but it finally bent a little on the far side, in the shadows, where it wouldn’t be as noticeable with all the silt clouding the water. Pio squeezed through at once and swam rings around Vega, leaping out of the water until his tail danced on the surface in his euphoria at being liberated at last.

Vega studied the swordfish’s antics for a moment, then raised his hand. “No!” he said. “No…I want you to go back inside the cage and wait.”

Communicating with his mind, the stunned fish questioned why.

“I do not want the Waterwitch to be suspicious,” Vega explained. “If she sees you gone, she may cast another, greater, aura about this place. She is no fool. Besides, I shall need you here to help free Simeon.”

Again the swordfish posed a silent question.

“You will know when the time comes,” Vega said. “Stay inside the cage unless you are threatened. If that should occur, you are free now and you can easily escape through the rent I’ve made.”

The summoner didn’t seem happy with the idea, but that couldn’t be helped. Pio would obey. Confident in that, Vega streaked back through the water toward the palace.

Meg stirred in Simeon’s soft, spacious bed, which was heaped with quilts of woven sea grass and featherbeds of eiderdown. She yawned and stretched and groped in the semidarkness for Simeon beside her, but the hollow where his body had lain was empty and cold. Was it dawn or dusk? There was no way of knowing beneath the waves. Would she ever get used to it? She smiled at the question. She could get used to the Netherworld—the dreaded Isle of the Dead that lived in the mists of time if it meant having Simeon.

She rose and dressed, choosing a butter-colored round gown from the wardrobe. The low-cut décolleté offset the amulet, the beautiful black pearl, which was radiant with rainbow luster resting in the hollow at the base of her throat. Turning to and fro before the cheval glass in Simeon’s dressing room chamber, she admired the way it shone with an inner light against her skin, the patina gleaming in the rush candle glow. It was as if it had been made for her, forged by the gods with her alone in mind.

She was just about to go in search of Simeon when a familiar voice echoed through the chamber. Would she ever get used to having no doors? Vine curtains sufficed for them, and one couldn’t knock on those. But then, privacy was nonexistent and nonessential to selkies. There was much she would have to become accustomed to as Lady of the Deep.

“Come,” she called.

Vega entered, sketching a bow. “My lady, I have come to beg a favor,” Vega said.

“Ask it.”

“My lady Risa has taken ill. Would you kindly sit with her while I fetch a healer? It shan’t take long.”

“Of course,” Meg said. “What is her ailment?”

“She cannot wake, my lady.”

“But that is serious.”

“Yes, my lady, but all will be well. I just do not want to leave her alone should she wake while I’m gone. The retainers are too…provincial for such duty.” He swept his hand wide. “Will you follow me?”

Meg nodded, letting him lead her.

“Thank you, my lady,” Vega said. “We have no females here since the consorts were exiled, save for the very young and the very old. Should she wake, to have a lady close in age to herself for company would be much preferred.”

“Where is Simeon?”

Vega hesitated. “I go to fetch him now,” he said.

They had reached Vega’s rooms, and he stood aside to let her enter. The rooms were small, but well appointed, furnished tastefully with elegant opulence. He led her to his bed chamber, where Risa lay pale and still against the bedding with her long black hair fanned out about her. Meg immediately felt the girl’s brow for fever, but it was cool to the touch—too cool—as cool as death.

“I, too, have healing skills,” she told him. “Herbs mostly; it was one of the reasons the mainlanders accused me a witch.” The look of him then was startling. All color seemed to drain from his face. “Oh, you needn’t fear me!” she said. “I mention it only to offer my services.” His expression softened somewhat, but there was still unease in his bearing and in his voice when he spoke.

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” he gushed. “The healer will come directly.”

“She has no fever,” Meg said, ignoring him. “Yet her breathing is shallow and rapid.” She lowered her ear to Risa’s breast, and her posture clenched. “This girl isn’t ill,” she said. “She is under some kind of spell!”

Vega had lost all color. Meg watched it drain away. “The healers will attend her,” he said. “If you will just remain with her until I bring them.”

Meg nodded. Something was not as it should be. “Of course,” she said.

“I shan’t be long,” Vega returned.

“Where did you say Simeon was?” she queried

“Eh…he is with Pio, my lady. I shall fetch him to you as soon as I fetch the healers.” He sketched a bow, then, and left her without a backward glance.

Meg followed him with her eyes as he left the chamber. Something in his bearing raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She studied Risa so still in the bed beside her. Anyone could have been designated to sit beside the comatose girl. It took only a split second to make the decision. She would summon a retainer to do just that, then follow Vega to find out exactly what was afoot.

Keeping well behind, she followed him as he sprinted along the corridor to a ledge where dozens of selkies garbed in their sealskins waited. When Vega plunged into the water, the selkies waddled to the edge and slid in after him. Now she was certain. It didn’t take a selkie army to bring a healer. Who could have put poor Risa under a spell, and why? There would be no answers standing there, and she slipped into the water and followed them at a discrete distance.

The way seemed familiar, though she was concentrating more upon the swimmers than the water they swam through. She didn’t want to lose track of them. She didn’t want to be seen, either. It wasn’t long before she realized they were heading straight for the Waterwitch’s cave. An adrenaline surge caused her to lose her rhythm momentarily. Something was wrong—very wrong. With her heart rising in her throat, she swam on. She couldn’t let Vega and the selkies out of her sight.

All at once, for all her diligence, they were gone. They seemed to have vanished into thin air. The underwater steps to the Waterwitch’s cave loomed before her, and she broke the surface and climbed up. The sitting room was empty, just as it had been the last time she’d come there. All was still, and she entered the sanctuary half expecting to find the odious crone holding court, but that chamber, too, was empty. The sound of raised voices coming from an inner chamber caught her ear, and Meg crept to the fall of aquatic vines that served as a door between the rooms, just as all the subterranean dwellings boasted, and peeked through the gaps in the hanging curtain.

It took moment for her to take in the scene before her. Her heart was pounding so violently she feared they would hear it. The Waterwitch was pacing before a large cage with Simeon inside. Other cages were beyond it. A terrible stench was coming from them, and she covered her mouth with her hand, fearful she would retch.

“So, Lord of the Deep, you sent for your army, did you?” the Waterwitch was saying. “How did you manage that, eh?”

“I sent for no one, Elna,” he returned. “It’s only natural they would come seeking me and that this hovel of yours would be the first place they’d look. What have you done with them?”

The crone laughed. “You actually thought that pitiful lot could stand against
me?
You are quite mad.”

“Where are they? What have you down with them?” Simeon demanded. “Your business is with me, venerable one, and me alone. You have my sealskin, and you have me. Let my brother go.”

“In due time,” she purred. “They have come to no harm. They are simply…detained. And they will come to no harm as long as you do what you failed to do earlier. You are my slave, Lord of the Deep. You have no choice.”