The Vast and Brutal Sea: A Vicious Deep novel (The Vicious Deep) (12 page)

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Ding-dong!

Hark! Now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell!

—“Ariel’s Song,” from
The
Tempest
by William Shakespeare

The Daughter of the Sea would never be free.

Not in the palace of the Rebel King Amur.

Not in the chambers where she swam and swam in circles until the Rebel King summoned her.

Strange they were to her, the people of these warm waters, so close to the surface, so close to the humans wandering in their boats like they owned the seas.

King Amur prided himself on their home made of rose gold, grander than anything they could fashion on land. He hosted nightly feasts, watching from the coral throne made from the bones of his ancestors. He drank in the beauty of Nieve, his Silver Queen.

Nieve waited on her golden seat beside the merman who was her husband king. Her high cheekbones, pale skin, and the silver scales that shone like armor in the great hall made her the center of attention, no matter how long she lived among them.

After the shadow dancers who undulated their bodies like surface smoke, the flute orchestras sweating for the king’s approval, the wild shark tamers, and the chorus of guppy children who sang hymns to the Rebel King and the Silver Queen, songs of the moonlight in her eyes—it was her turn.

It was King Amur’s favorite time of night, watching his beautiful bride swim to the center of the room, her hair laced with pearls and emeralds. He loved the way the people held their breath, the calm in the great hall, the hungry expectation in their eyes.

Queen Nieve faced the warrior before her and took him in, just as she had others countless times. She held up her palms and sensed the fear in his blood. When she closed her eyes, she could concentrate on the thunderous rhythm of his heart. Fearful, but resolved to stand before the Rebel Court and die. He held up his long sword, a word etched into the blade that Nieve couldn’t see. She thought it was probably something that said “strength” or “honor” because the rebels loved their honor.

They were the ones who refused to live under her father, King Elanos. They were the ones who fought against the four cardinal heralds. And yet, after years of being an outsider in her birthplace, these rebels were the only ones who wanted her.

Before the warrior could attack, Nieve summoned her power. She slowed his movement by pulling at the strength of his body. She latched on to the crackling energy that made up his being. For a flash, she could see a memory—swimming with a black-haired mermaid, kissing her as if it was the only thing in the world he was meant to do. Then fighting, slashing, pillaging nearby tribes in the name of King Amur. She wondered what made men like this fight for another. He was no different than her father’s soldiers, no different than the men who follow blindly into battle. Causeless. Purposeless. He was the kind of merman she was surrounded by, and it filled her heart with an angry cry.

Sparks emitted from her fingers like fissures in glass. There was a collective gasp in the golden hall, and everyone began swimming backward. King Amur gripped the coral throne and leaned forward, licking his lips as if he could taste the magic in the water the way he tasted the blood of his enemies before he reduced them to surf.

This warrior was bigger than the others. But his strength meant nothing because she was stronger. She swam around him, avoiding his sword. He recovered and tried to wrap his tail around hers. She slithered out of his grip, but his hand grabbed a handful of her hair. Pearls and gems scattered into the sea, and the hands of little mermaids reached out to grab them like trophies, like they too could have a piece of the queen. Nieve screamed and sent a blast of energy at the merman.

For a moment, she considered putting it off. It was an honor to die at her hand, but why should he get it so quickly? The Rebel King hated when they died too quickly.

Mercy, she called it.

She beat her tail and swam up toward the arched ceiling with its floating light-fish, the warrior’s hands at her fins. What would it be like if she tore a hole through the ceiling and let him escape? Would he run? Would she go with him?

How fast would King Amur find her?

The warrior grabbed her, squeezing at the middle of her tail until she thought her bones would break. She pushed down on his face, digging her nails into his cheeks, and still he didn’t let go, slamming her against the ceiling, scattering the light away.

For a moment, she let him squeeze her. Grip her so hard the life might start slipping away. He only had to reach her throat and close off her gills. Then she’d be free of it all.

But freedom was a small price to pay to feel this—the fire that raged inside her. Live, she told herself. All she needed to do was live and figure out a way.

So she pulled on her magic, on the light of the life around her. She brought it inside her the way she’d seen wood feed fires on the surface. She kept her hands on the warrior’s face, and her scream joined his. Her current rammed into him so hard that his arms went slack instantly. She didn’t let go—not even when his memories gripped her like a fist around her heart. She saw the black-haired mermaid again, with her black skin and scarlet mouth that caressed his face over and over.

Then she heard his heart burst. Surf bubbled all around her where his body once was.

The crowd’s cheers could be heard through the whole palace. The Silver Queen was victorious again. She sank back down to the main hall, settling beside the warrior’s long sword. She picked it up and faced her husband king.

“Witness once again the power of my queen! No one would dare threaten us,” he said to his people. Then he added in a low growl, “Not even her father.”

“You’ve pleased me once again, my wife.” His eyes were drunk with lust and power. He would send for her tonight after he tired of the mermaids from the shore banks, she was sure of it.

“That brings me much happiness, my king,” she said.

Around her, the court reveled.

“Does it?” he asked, knowing that her words were full of lies.

She said nothing, only held the sword against her open hands. They stung with power. Her heart stung with hate. It was coiling inside her, and she wondered when it would break like the earth spilling lava and steam. Was it now, with the sword in her hands? With his guards standing there ready to slit her throat at a moment’s notice?

No. Patience, she told herself.

Patient, which the Rebel King was not.

“Give it here,” he said, pointing at the sword, a spark of nervousness blooming in his thoughts.

She swam to him and handed it over. But first she read the word of honor inscribed into the blade. Gwenivere. She saw the black-haired girl in her mind and thought, What a lovely name.

NOW

“Nieve,” I say. Her name is a curse. A darkness I’ve never known before. She’s nowhere in sight, but what we see while we’re swimming has her signature of destruction all over it.

“This can’t happen,” Dylan says. “They can’t do this. Not here.”

I realize Kai, Brendan, and Dylan all spent part of their lives at Glass Castle. They’re mesmerized, like looking at a picture that’s distorted and trying to make sense of it.

We crouch below a giant boulder and ready our weapons. Amada growls and rakes her claws on the stone.

“Kai,” I say, “can you lead me to the oracle’s chambers?”

She stares at the fighting mermen and merrows as the echoes of screams reach us. “Yes.”

“The rest of you—”

Brendan doesn’t wait for me to finish. He charges down to the castle and cleaves the heads off three merrows. The black, inky blood spreads all over, creating the perfect cover for the rest of us. Amada and Dylan flank him. Dylan commands the attention of a group of warriors who wear his family’s crest on their breastplates. They fight around him, protecting him.

Amada swims fast. She opens her mandibles wide and chomps down on the merrows. The guards, never having seen her before, don’t know what to make of such a creature. But they stay out of her way as she fiercely joins the skirmishes inside the castle.

Kai makes sure the coast is clear and leads me through a side entrance. Balls of conjured light float along the halls and up on the ceilings, casting long shadows. It’s everything I could have dreamed about seeing and, at the same time, like nothing I’ve ever seen. The glass itself has the patterns of shells. Now I know why my mom chose that living-room wallpaper.

Then they come through the corridor. A mouth of nail-like teeth chomping at the open sea in front of Kai’s face. I grab her and push her to the side. A merrow collides with my chest, and just as it opens its mouth, I sink my dagger into its belly.

“Hurry, Tristan!” Kai says. “If all these merrows are here, I think they’re after the same thing you are.”

I follow her twists and turns down hallways decorated with carvings of old mermen and women, their likenesses reduced to shattered glass, until we’re at what seems like the center of the Glass Castle where the chambers are made of steel. An engraving of the trident decorates the door. It’s quiet. The merrows haven’t gotten this far in, and I hope we can hold them off.

“The king’s chamber,” Kai whispers.

She’s about to go in, but I grab her wrist and press my finger to my lips. There are people inside there. We lean into the slightly open door and listen.

His voice, demanding and bossy, is instantly familiar.

“You can’t go out there,” Kurt yells. “You’re not strong enough to fight.”

I hold my dagger out in the crack of the door and see their reflection. Kurt and the Sea King, his father. My grandfather. He looks old and withered, skinny and weak. He sits on a throne of gold and can barely push himself up to yell.

There is glass all over the floor and Kurt’s knuckles are bloody. Kurt turns around and runs one hand through his hair, clenching the Trident of the Skies with the other.

“I came to protect you,” Kurt says.

“Because Lucine told you that Nieve’s forces would be attacking the castle,” my grandfather says suspiciously. “What else has that sorceress filled your head with?”

Kurt growls. “She told me the truth. The truth you failed to tell me for all of my life.”

There is a silence full of shattering glass and clanking swords in the distance. The sharp screams of mermaids swimming out of the castle and others fighting back.

“It was your mother’s choice. She wanted to raise you as his.”

“And you said nothing,” Kurt demands.

“Would you have had me force her?” the king bellows. “She wanted him…in the end. No matter how much I offered. No matter how much I loved her.”

Kurt puts his hand through something that breaks like cement.

I wince and Kai puts a hand over her mouth.

“Is that why you sent my father to the dragon wars?” Kurt says. “To get rid of him?”

My grandfather doesn’t answer, and the shame of it fills the silence.

“Kurtomathetis, you are a great warrior. A great merman. Don’t let this—oracle—destroy that. She’s lived as long as me, and she knows how to control minds and hearts.”

“If you think so highly of me,” Kurt says, “why did you pick Tristan instead of your own son? To protect your shame?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?

“I never meant to hurt you boys.”

“We aren’t boys!”

“No,” the king laments. “No, you aren’t.”

“Lucine warned you, didn’t she?” Kurt says. “She warned you to kill Nieve and you didn’t. She told you to pass on the trident to your son. And you didn’t. Now everything is broken. The silver mermaid has taken our island, and now our home here. She’s more powerful than all of us. We’ll have no choice but to follow her.”

“Don’t ever say that. I will not explain my decisions to you. Know that everything I’ve done has been because I—”

“Do not tell me you love me.” Kurt’s voice is deadly calm. “Not when you chose a headstrong human boy who acts more like a seal in heat than a champion of the seas.”

Kai snorts then shoots me an apologetic glance.

I can’t take it anymore. If they’re going to talk about me, I might as well be present. Kai grabs my hand and shakes her head desperately.

“Go,” I whisper. “Help the others.”

“The latch door is on the ground beneath the throne,” she says, taking her sword to do some good.

I pull the doors open. Kurt does a double take when he sees me. My grandfather looks relieved? I can’t tell because his brow has always been furrowed and worried-looking.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt puffs his chest like a wet rooster.

“You know me, Uncle,” I say. “I just show up and see what happens.”