Mervidia (10 page)

Marin did not so easily forget.
And I never forgive,
she thought.

The bone-fused door, carved with dozens of descending tentacles from its top to its base, closed softly as the male merwin departed. Marin swam to her chair and sat back down, the tense family meeting leaving her feeling drained.

Odette wore a bemused smile as she gazed upon her daughter and gently placed her shapely rump upon Uchenna’s desk, her tentacles splaying out as she settled herself
.
She knows something and is pleased with herself,
Marin thought, nervousness clawing its way up from her belly again.

“What?” Marin asked innocently.

“You haven’t told your father about Zane,” Odette stated, her grin widening. Marin froze, her heart suddenly pounding painfully in her chest.

“How
did you…?” Marin asked, getting a grip on her fear and hiding it as best she could. Odette just laughed out loud.

“Oh, daughter, you are adorable…” Odette beamed.
The octolaide matron’s sharp white teeth gleamed in the light of the room’s orihalcyon sconces, a chilling reminder of how much of a predator she really was. Odette was always seeking information to use against others… even her children. “I am your mother. It is my job to know what you do in your
spare
time.” Odette let her admission settle in for a moment before continuing, undoubtedly enjoying watching her daughter squirm uncomfortably under her gaze. “How well-endowed is that strapping neondra anyway? I’ve only admired him from afar, of course,” she assured her daughter, but that was the wrong thing to say. Marin grew furious at the mere thought that her mother might have had her lusty eyes on Zane.

“I am not allowed to make
any
decision within this house, so I have taken my interests elsewhere,” Marin spat, flicking her tentacles angrily, rising from her chair. “You and father plan and scheme, yet you give my opinion zero consideration! I am sick of it!” The young merwin made for the door to escape her familial nightmare. However, as she turned to swim towards the door a blur of black shot past Marin’s gaze. Odette floated at the exit, all her former mirth gone and her lips in a hard angry line. Marin looked back to where her mother had been swimming beside her to where she was now, her black tentacles snaking irately about her. Odette had passed through the room in the time it took Marin to simply blink. Her mother’s kalku abilities continued to amaze Marin.

“I didn’t excuse you yet, insolent child,” Odette said, her tone cold and murderous.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, daring Marin to try and go through her. Marin was not ready to challenge her mother.
Not yet, at least
, the young merwin thought.

“Apologies, Mother,” Marin said meekly with her head lowered, extending her arms with her palms open in deference.
Her tentacles mirrored her arms, fanning out buoyantly in a generous curtsy. “What else did you wish to discuss with me?” Marin was surprised again when her mother was suddenly in front of her, raising her chin gently until their eyes met. Odette’s fury was sated by Marin’s show of obedience.

“Your father and I just want the best possible life for you,” Odette said to her daughter.
“I want to see the Fangs on
your
brow, one day.” Marin was confused; her mother’s demeanor had rapidly changed from deadly to soft and loving.

So she does care,
Marin thought, trying to read her mother’s face. Part of Marin wanted to embrace her mother, to be held and reassured in her arms, but she had not been raised to be weakened by emotion, not like Ebon.
One day, mother
, she thought,
I will use your love for me to remove you from
MY
chosen path.
I do not need to wear the Fangs to attain the power I crave, and I really couldn’t care less about House Chimaera’s advancement; I care only for my own.

Marin remained silent, keeping her rebellious thoughts quiet, and Odette continued speaking.
“Marin, daughter, you can still have Zane
and
be the royal consort. Do not let your desires limit your great potential.”

Marin wasn’t sure why she was confused again
. From the way her mother now regarded her, she had apparently betrayed her feelings in her expression. She raised her chin, removing it from the older merwin’s grasp. Odette dropped her hand, unoffended and pleased; the slight upturn of the corners of the matron’s lips revealing the tiniest of grins. Odette was studying Marin’s face, as her daughter put two and two together
. Perhaps mother is right in that regard
, Marin thought.
Zane’s inflated sense of loyalty is rubbing off on me the more time I spend with him. Having two merwin at once would be… entertaining
. Marin smiled, liking the idea.
Why did I not think of that before?

“There, little one, I see that brilliant mind of yours working,” Odette said, mirroring her daughter’s devious smile.
“You only limit yourself, remember that. I certainly have enjoyed more than one merwin at a time, both for pleasure and to advance my position.”

Now, Marin’s interest was piqued.
“Who?” Marin asked a bit too eagerly. Odette’s amused laughter filled the room.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Odette stated and swam for the door, looking back at Marin b
efore departing. “Take a moment to collect yourself, Marin. You look all a flutter.” Marin put her hand to her cheek, which must have been flushed. Being cold-blooded, she still felt only cool skin beneath her fingers. “Gather your wits for the events of the next few days. Tomorrow is the queen’s funeral parade and then the Assembly will meet again. You and your brother should be there this time.” The older octolaide looked over her daughter’s attire and the two large polished abalone shells that covered her breasts. The shells’ outer layers had been removed and polished, revealing a dazzling array of pearly pinks, purples, and greens within their depths. The young octolaide wore a bone choker as well, similar to her father’s, but from hers dangled smaller shells, alike in color to the two larger ones, on preserved sinew. The necklace nestled alluringly between her breasts. “I would remove the top if I were you. We need Iago thinking you look… most enticing.”

“Yes, mother,” Marin said, submissively lowering her head once more.

“One last thing,” Odette said, her hand on the door’s handle, “you are being left alone in House Chimaera’s most precious library
.” Marin glanced at the rows of volumes, her eyes widening. She returned her gaze to her mother, realizing what she was allowing her to do. Marin felt light-headed and giddy, thinking about what awaited her in those books.

“But, father will return…” Marin said, reigning in her excitement and not letting it get in the way of good reason.
Mother could be setting me up, testing me
, she thought.

“Fear not, child.
I believe you are ready to dabble a bit on your own, even if your father does not agree,” Odette said. “Have a look at the one on the top shelf, second from the left side, with the black tentacle binding.” Marin’s mother grinned devilishly. “I’ll ensure your father is
distracted
for a couple hours. Be at supper.”

“Yes, mother,” Marin said, looking at the small book Odette had indicated with great curiosity.
She heard the door open and her mother swim out into the courtyard, her tentacles closing the door gently behind her. Marin let out the excited giggle she had been repressing and propelled herself forward, her eager tentacles reaching toward the waiting volumes.

Chapter Ten

As the head of the procession turned the corner, the crowd pressed forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dead queen as she passed.
Though they could have easily floated up to see over the heads of those in front, decorum kept them close to the seafloor.
No one would
dare
to elevate themselves above the Queen,
Ambrose thought sardonically.
Stupid bristlemouths, following the bright light and swimming with the school, like the rest of the brainless remora of this city.
The octolaide watched as hundreds of milky white eyes followed the orihalcyon lanterns that hung from the corners of Beryl’s palanquin. Their heads turned slowly to track the dead queen’s body, wrapped in thick layers of red kelp, as it passed. The display of blind submission put a sour taste on Ambrose’s tongue. He tried to expel the putrid flavor away with a quick intake of seawater, flushing it out his neck gills, but was only partially successful.

He
pumped his tentacles to rise higher, so that he could see above the fawning masses. He felt eyes upon him as he did so and turned his head slowly. A seifeira was looking at him, giving him a disapproving look. After a moment under Ambrose’s penetrating stare the tattooed merwin quickly looked away. Feigning a rapturous interest in the funeral procession, the seifeira slid forward, nestling in tighter with the school. The octolaide doubted that the merwin had recognized him. Not many in Mervidia knew of Ambrose and fewer still would be able to identify him, even if they had heard of him. Still, the seifeira instinctively recognized a predator when he saw one and retreated to the safety of the mass of merwin that lined the avenue.

Satisfied that no one else was going to react to his
indiscretion
of elevating himself above the crowd; Ambrose watched the funeral parade as it passed.

At the head of the procession was the
queen’s palanquin, an ornate platform of spell-wrought uklod bone. Slipped through channels carved into the platform were two rods of red coral, shaped and hardened by the same arcane process that had created the palanquin and allowed it to be borne through the street. Four ethyrie wearing bone armor held the coral rods and propelled the dead monarch through the city. Despite knowing that each helmet, vambrace, armor plate, and girdle was specifically crafted for its wearer, Ambrose noticed the mild discomfort that marked every tail swish of the pallbearers. A tiny smile curved his lips.
Armor yourself up like a crab all you want,
he thought.
Compared to the power of a true kalku, your
protections
would be as useless as a fin on an octopus.

Speaking of useless…
Ambrose said inwardly as the Serfin rode into view. Each merwin, wearing armor similar to those that bore Beryl’s body, sat atop a frilled shark. Every mount had a saddle strapped to its back, a contraption formed of bone and eel skin with a pair of short, thick protrusions on one side. Each merwin sat askew, allowing him to wrap his tail down one side then under the shark and up to the horns on the other, locking his tail in between, and affixing the rider to the mount. In one hand, the merwin guards held the reins that ran to a spiked bone bit in their shark’s spiny teeth, and in the other they carried a trident made entirely of coral.
An asinine weapon for an asinine position,
the kalku commented mentally. Tridents, though impressive looking, were unwieldy.
Too much drag in the water,
Ambrose thought.
Besides, one good blow from a decent weapon and those coral hafts would shatter. They look good, but still, they would be unfeasible in a true fight; much like the merwin who carry them. Still, it takes a certain amount of skill and bravery to ride a frilled shark,
he admitted.

At the head of the guard rode the dead queen’s consort, Iago.
The acting regent of Mervidia wore armor similar to that of the other shark riders over his soft white iridescent skin. However, where the royal guard was bare-chested, the young ethyrie wore a breastplate fashioned from a multitude of long slender bones, hollowed out so that they could be hung from a latticework of woven kelp strands. The armor piece was reminiscent of the skeletal chest of an animal with far too many ribs than was feasible. Set into the bones in tiny orihalcyon stones, glowed the crest of House Paua, a spiraling chambered nautilus with an iridescent pink pearl at its heart. Despite Iago’s choice of mount, it was obvious to Ambrose that the young consort was not truly a part of the royal guard. The octolaide caught several looks of irritation and resentment from the merwin who rode behind Iago. Ambrose disliked the monarch’s guardians a little less.

Regardless of his feelings on the shark-riding warriors, the effect they had on the crowd was obvious and immediate.
Merwin on both sides of the avenue began edging back, away from the dangerous sea creatures as they came down the lane. A large neondra in front of Ambrose, backing away from the sharks, threatened to bump into the octolaide. Had Ambrose not put up a webbed hand, it would have become a full collision. Irritated by both the close contact and the repulsive fear that had caused it, Ambrose reached out through his hand, drawing a tiny bit of energy from the big merwin in front of him.
Just a quick sip of your life force to remind you of your manners,
the kalku thought.

The
neondra spun around, abject fear widening his eyes until the milky white orbs looked like they might pop out of the merwin’s skull.

Ambrose smiled.

The other merwin darted away, pushing himself through the crowd with powerful strokes of his broad tail, mindless of the people he shoved aside in his haste.

The grin disappeared from Ambrose’s face.
The kalku despised cowardice.
Fear is a weapon
, he thought.
And, like any weapon, it should be wielded and not the wielder.
The sour taste of disgust welled up in his mouth again. He pulled water in between his lips and flushed the flavor out through his torso gills.
No wonder I left this place behind; too many cowards and too many merwin playing games to get anything of value done around here.

Ambrose shook his head and returned his attention to the funeral procession.
Once the Serfin and their sharks passed, the crowd pressed forward to watch the spectacle.

Following the
queen’s palanquin and its guards, the Queen Mother rounded the corner. Damaris sat atop a truly impressive specimen of manta ray. Her pale skin and billowing red fins stood out in sharp contrast to her mount’s black skin. In contrast, the ray’s underside glowed a luminescent white. It also reflected the light from the orange orihalcyon lamps that hung from poles along the sides of the boulevard. Ambrose had rarely seen a bioluminescent species of a manta ray, and never one of such size. The kalku studied the creature as it swam past, far more interested in the mount than its rider. From tip to tip the creature’s fins spanned the length of four merwin at least, and its white belly was indeed shedding its own light on the crowd below. Ambrose wondered if the creature had been altered magically or if it had been born that way. Given the opportunity, he would have loved to dissect the ray and study it.

As Damaris and her intriguing mount passed by, Ambrose’s eyes slid from the giant ray’s tail to the yellow
-mantled jellod who swam next in line. The kalku immediately recognized his old adversary, Nayan.
Still wearing that absurd pink starfish in your hair,
he grimaced. Though both he and the machi had nurtured their sorcerous talents within the walls of their own houses, it was not unusual for the more gifted, and curious, merwin sorcerers to meet and discuss the arcane arts. Some of the High Houses even hosted small parties, inviting only the most talented sorcerers, machi and kalku alike, to converse about spells, mystical experiments, and magical theory. They were meant to bring prestige to the hosting house and expand the knowledge of magic for all merwin. Most of the time, however, these gatherings turned into philosophical and ethical debates between the machi and kalku about the nature of magic and its true purpose. Of all the narrow minded machi that Ambrose had bested intellectually, none had been more satisfying than Nayan. Though she was powerful in her own right, her viewpoint had always been laughably naïve. Their debates had eventually become part of the lexicon of sorcery in Mervidia, taught by older machi and kalku to their students, usually to point out the flaws in the other tradition’s way of thinking. Now, many cycles later, Ambrose felt no desire to crush Nayan with the logic of his arguments. He simply wanted to crush her.

This is
neither the time, nor the place,
Ambrose reminded himself, wrapping a tentacle tightly around his staff.
I will be patient. In time, I will be proven right.
He looked to the palanquin in the distance that carried the corpse of one of the last of the Divine Family’s line.
It’s happening already,
he smiled.
House Lumen is dying out. It’s only a matter of time before Mervidia wakes up to the power it truly possesses.
Ambrose’s eyes slid from the Queen’s body, past the pretentious consort and his ridiculous guard, past the grieving Queen Mother, and skipped over Nayan entirely. The jellod machi to House Lumen had a pair of retainers, who also were not mounted, feigning humility. Like their mistress, the two female merwin were jellod, but wore no clothing or adornment as Nayan did.

Ambrose shook his head at the wasted potential and forced himself to watch the rest of the p
arade.

The honor guard of House Lumen followed closely behind.
The ethyrie warriors chosen to represent the Divine Family wore spell-shaped coral armor emblazoned with the crest of House Lumen, a pearl encrusted crown deliberately fashioned to look like the Fangs. Again Ambrose shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all.
Splendid looking, no doubt, but not worth the hours it took to shape the coral into such laughable protection to cover the soft flesh beneath,
the kalku thought.
Like most things around here, and especially this funeral parade, it’s just for show; a distracting bit of drama to lure the eye away from matters of true import.

Ambrose
looked to the head of House Lumen’s honor guard, where Beryl’s cousin Cassondra rode atop a large manta ray of her own. Though her mount was nowhere near as large as her aunt’s, the pale-skinned, pink-finned ethyrie’s ray still stretched as wide as two merwin floating head-to-fluke. Her fuchsia hair was tied on top of her head in a tight tail that streamed out behind her as she passed by.

Now why are you riding at the head of House Lumen, Cassondra?
Ambrose wondered.
Shouldn’t your mother Ghita or at least your brother Flinn be holding that place of honor?
The octolaide kalku was intrigued. Though he considered himself above such petty societal structures as houses and the political infighting that pervaded them, he still made it a point to stay informed of the power structure in Mervidia and in the houses that held the reins of influence.
I may be arrogant, but I’m not stupid,
he thought.
Knowing which way the current flows is a good way to stay alive.
He made a mental note to visit an acquaintance he had amongst the faera while he was in the city to find out the reason for Ghita’s and Flinn’s absence.

The rest of the procession passed, mostly beneath Ambrose’s notice as he contemplated the possible reasons why prominent members of House Lumen
were not in attendance. Each house’s contingent swam by in a specific order, based on the rigid strictures of political power and ranking. After House Lumen came Paua, the next highest ranking house, led by Vaschel, who looked somber and serious as usual. Following closely behind the first house was the contingent from House Chimaera.

Riding at the head of his house
on his own ray, Uchenna came into view, and Ambrose floated down to blend in with the rest of the crowd of merwin.
No point in calling more attention to the fact that I am in the city,
the octolaide thought.
Eventually I’ll make my presence known, but not yet.
Uchenna, who would surely recognize Ambrose, was clad in the distinctive purple kelp coat that he always wore for public events, he wryly noted.

By the
domo of House Chimaera’s side rode his wife, atop another large manta ray. Not as huge as Damaris’ mount, the creatures were able to be ridden side-by-side. In contrast to her husband, who insisted on wearing his ostentatious coat, Odette wore only a simple woven necklace of blue and green seaweed. Her smooth head, devoid of tentacles seen so often on octolaides, was a pale white, like the belly of her manta ray mount. The alabaster skin continued down her torso, over her large breasts and slender waist, before it blended into the inky black flesh of her tentacles.

Ambrose felt a stirring deep inside, as the memory of those tentacles wrapped around him floated to the surface.
The kalku immediately pushed the recollection back down, drowning it in the dark recesses of his core.
I have better things on which to spend my energy than dwelling on a past dalliance with a student, regardless of how shapely her tentacles may be.
He had already done enough for her recently anyway.