The Vast and Brutal Sea: A Vicious Deep novel (The Vicious Deep) (20 page)

“I’m going to help the others,” she says and pulls herself from me.

“I’ll be right there.” I hold on to her, right down to the tips of our fingers, and then she’s gone. I can see my mom standing at the boardwalk. I fight every impulse to run to her, to go home and let Kurt have at it. A scream is caught in my chest and I push it back down because I have to be strong for her. She’s singing one last song, a melody that I know as well as the lines of my face. A sailor getting lost at sea and finding a beautiful castle with riches and a love that is magical and impossible but true, but in the end he comes home.

This is not her world anymore. It’s mine.

“Tristan,” Frederik says from behind me. “A word?”

I turn to where he stands. “It was Gwenivere. She was calling out to them.”

“I saw. Where is she now?”

“Gone.” I press my hand over my chest where my skin is red from her handprint. My scabs are bleeding. “I thought she was going to burst my heart out of my chest.”

Frederik shakes his head. “She wouldn’t.”

“I was sure she would come back with me, but I was wrong.”

“We lost at least a dozen humans,” Frederik says, walking back up the beach to regroup with the others. “Thanks to your mother, we can usher the rest back inland Come on.”

When he turns around and I don’t follow, he knows what I’m about to do. The sun and moon are stuck, splitting each other in half. As if she’s reading my mind, Amada is at the shoreline waiting for me.

“This wasn’t the plan,” he says. I might be crazy, but I think he sounds concerned. “You said—”

“I have to go now,” I tell him.

He nods once. “When I first met you, I didn’t think I’d be here side by side in your fight. I couldn’t wait to get your kind off the shore.”

I grin. “Did my charming ways make you change your mind?”

He pulls his hands in his pockets. “Who says I changed my mind?”

But he holds his arm out for me to take, all the same.

“What should I tell the others?”

“That nothing else has changed.” I take his hand. “And remember, wait for my signal.”

Amada breathes in deeply. The air is thick with salt. In this gray noon, I’d never guess it’s summer.

“There is blood in the water,” she says.

“You can still turn around,” I say. “You don’t have to do this.”

She gives me a long sideways glance, her loose black hair all over her face. In her human form, it’s easy to forget how powerful she is. That she’s a cursed being. That her talons can rip your head clean off.

“Any other prince would be happy that so many clamor to risk their lives for him,” she says. “Yet you would rather risk your own.”

“Don’t ask me to explain,” I say.

“Not asking.”

The Alliance has cleared the shoreline, and they’re putting themselves in place like chess pieces. Somewhere Layla is wondering where I’ve gone off to, why I didn’t say good-bye. And I know that I couldn’t say good-bye to her. When I close my eyes, I don’t see Nieve or Gwen. I see Layla on top of me, pressing her hands on my chest, kissing me like she might never get another chance.

Amada nudges my shoulder. “Focus.”

“Focus.” I repeat the word over and over. Focus on Toliss Island ahead of us and the white room where the nautilus maid waits for me. Focus on not giving up. Focus on being alive.

My body hums with energy and anticipation until I think I’ll burst right out of my skin.

And we run straight into a cresting wave. The sea tries to push us back at first, but we push ahead and swim on. My eyes adjust to the dark water. I hold my dagger ahead of me and let my tail do the work. We swim for two miles surrounded by silence and dark. I swallow against the coppery tastes in the sea, the mangled body parts that float back up to the surface. It nearly makes me retch because I can’t get the flavor out of my mouth.

Then we see the island. From beneath, it is an expanse of stone. The tunnels are lit with the white-blue light of tiny creatures that cling to the stone walls. Beneath that, the shark guard are chained in a circle, ravenously biting at the space in front of them. Their skin is raw where their chains have drawn blood.

Around them, merrows swim in a circle, taunting the creatures.

Amada and I hold back, watching and waiting for the right time. If we move too quickly, they’ll know we’re there and we’ll lose the advantage of a surprise attack. I swim close to the ground and stay behind the boulders.

“If we go in from different directions, we can create enough of a distraction to get rid of the merrows and then free the sharks.”

I wait for Amada to agree with me because this was what we decided on. Distract the merrows and get in through the tunnels.

“Amada?”

She’s gone. I look over the boulders, and there she is, swimming in her beast form. Her dragon jaw is open wide; her hind legs retract to let her tail do the work. If I scream for her to stop, it’ll give away her position.

The merrows shift around like they can smell something new, something dark and threatening, her roar a deep echo around them.

When I fought her, I know she was holding back. She’s faster than I imagined. With her claws, she rips across a puffer merrow’s chest, slicing so deep that she rips the heart out before he breaks down into black blood. Before the others can reach her, she lunges with an open jaw, ripping the head off a hammer-headed merrow. She doesn’t spit it back out.

They’re crazed, and she undulates, swimming toward the sharks. I ready myself to help her. There’s no way she can take two dozen of those things and another dozen sharks.

But she cries out and even though I can’t fully understand the cry of the river people, I know she’s telling me to stay put. With her claws, she breaks the chains that hold back the shark guard. One, two, five, ten. Their teeth are like bear traps closing against bone. They charge straight at the merrows, and within minutes, they’ve swallowed them whole.

As the sharks swim in a cyclone formation Amada swims between them. They nudge her body in a silent thank-you.

I hover just outside their circle. Then they stop. I brandish Triton’s dagger and they part for me. Amada shifts into her human torso.

“You didn’t wait for me.” I frown.

“I saw an opening and I took it,” she says. “The way is clear.”

The shark guard swims around the island, but they’re not a danger to me or mine.

“I will return to the others. I will tell them I saw you through safely.”

And then I swim up into the bright light of the tunnels.

•••

The tunnels are a maze. Thalia said to choose one of the openings on the east, which would lead me to the farthest chambers where prisoners are held.

The problem with looking at an island from underneath is that I don’t know where east is.

I take my best guess and decide to not jump out of the pool like a topless girl inside a birthday cake. Nope, that would give away the element of surprise.

The first tunnel leads me to a dim-lit room. I break the surface slowly, keeping my body pressed against the stone. I don’t recognize the voices, but there are children crying. The sound is pained and lonely and scared. Footsteps walk in quickly. A girl’s voice cooing. “Please don’t cry,” she begs.

Then another. A softer voice, singing. Gwen.

“They’re pretty,” the strange girl says. “Aren’t they? All things are pretty when they’re small. Even us.”

Us.

I chance it and lift my head a fraction over the ledge of the pool. Gwen and the girl have their back to me. They cradle babies in their arms. Their faces are distorted, like looking at something through broken glass. They’re merrow babies. Dozens and dozens of them in their own cribs.

“Does Mother truly have the power to make them better?”

“Not better,” Gwen says. “There’s nothing wrong with them. She can only make them stronger.”

The girl looks confused, as if everything she’s learned is changing in front of her eyes.

“When do we get to name them?” she asks eagerly.

“When they’re ready,” Gwen snaps, and the girl shrinks back.

A new wave of merrow babies for Nieve to raise.

“I like this one. His skin is like a sunset.” The girl rubs the baby’s back. “Can we call him Sunset?”

Gwen makes a feral sound and the girl backs away, putting the sunset merrow baby back in its crib. She looks my way and I sink down. I hurry back through the tunnels, keeping myself flat against the stones. When I press on the light creatures, they pull back into the tiny pores of the wall. I take another route and swim upward, breaking the surface up to my ears.

The voice speaking makes me go red with anger.

“I’ve instructed all my brothers to the head of the island. The beach is the only safe place to land. Are you certain they’ll come on ships?” Archer’s heavy feet pace around the room. I can’t see him but I can picture his scarred face, his teeth smiling cruelly.

When Lucine answers, I shake with anger because I know, I know Kurt has to be here. “I thought Nieve fixed you. Didn’t you hear what I said? The Mutt’s people will come on ships. I’ve seen it. If you don’t trust in my sight, then you can go cry on your mother’s lap and ask her to do better.”

“I do not cry,” Archer snarls. He bites at the air, and feet shuffle back and forth.

I hear Kurt whisper something like, “I don’t like this.” And Lucine placates him like he’s a child.

“Don’t, my darling,” she says.

Kurt grunts and walks away, toward where I am. “I’m going to check on my guard.”

There’s a splash. I press my body against the tunnel and the light scatters around me. I consider making a dash for it, but he doesn’t look behind and takes a tunnel going to what might be west. Something about Lucine’s tone toward Archer makes me stay and listen.

“You really ought to keep a tighter leash on him,” Archer tells Lucine.

“The way your mother keeps you?”

Archer growls at her.

“Once Tristan comes ashore,” Lucine says, “it is up to Nieve to take his scepter.”

Archer steps closer to her, threatening her space. “And what of your bastard prince?”

“He will see this is the future for us,” she says. “I will make him see.”

Thalia is right. Lucine is controlling Kurt. How do I make him see? I sink back down the tunnel. This time, I let myself sense the water. East. Shouldn’t a good sense of direction come with the merman package? There’s a tunnel that doesn’t look like the others. The light is fainter, and the water that runs through it is colder.

I take it.

The chill makes me want to turn back, but then I remember the first time I met Chrysilla, the nautilus maid. I went through the well, and the water, like here, was so cold I nearly stopped breathing. My gills refuse to open and I hold my breath, pushing myself up the dark tunnel until I break the surface.

There’s a sigh of relief and I step out of the pool. In the center of the white shimmering stone, there is a basin with shallow water. The nautilus maid is not the way I last saw her. Her skin is cold, bleeding where it’s dry and cracked. Her rose-colored eyes search the room, but she’s dazed, and it takes time for her to focus on my face.

There are two fish in the pool, swimming around her. A few half-eaten fins lie at the bottom and around the floor. Her laria, the tongueless girls that were her handmaidens, are nowhere to be seen. I saw them here in my vision, but they’re gone. Long streaks of scarlet blood drag all the way to the chamber entrance. I can picture their dead bodies getting taken away.

I step closer to Chrysilla, the oracle. The water dripping from me is like the heartbeat of a clock.

When I stand directly in front of her, she sighs once more. It takes strength for her to hold her head up, and the long, fleshy tendrils of her hair hang limp at her sides.

“You didn’t forget me,” she says.

I shake my head. This is not fair.

“Do it,” she says, pressing a hand over her heart. “Do it or you die with me.”

I shake my head. “Why did she take you?”

Chrysilla tries to smile. “Not Nieve. It was my sister who knew I was hiding something. But we have taken each other’s blood and only you can have my secrets.”

I get closer to her. She reaches out a cold hand and presses her fingers on my wet face. I take one of the fish that swim around her and put it in her mouth. She bites and nods. “They took my laria.”

She chews, shutting her eyes like it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. Her last meal.

“Why me?” I want to know. “Why did you pick me?”

Kai’s words ring in my ear: they play their games.

She leans forward and presses her hand on my chest, right over my heart. “This is why.”

The color is fading from her eyes, like the way it did from my grandfather before he turned into coral.

Do it, I tell myself. Do it because if she dies, I’ll go with her, and then what was the point of all of this?

I unsheathe Triton’s dagger. My legs feel weak.

“No. The scepter.” Chrysilla shakes her head, hand still pressed over her heart. “That is how you will retain control of your beast no matter what.”

Her veins are raised and getting darker, like the blood is bubbling inside them and they’re ready to burst.

“Do it,” she hisses.

I bite down and steel myself, but it isn’t me who will feel the pain, is it? It isn’t my life that’s ending, is it?

“Do it!”

My eyes are closed and I force them to stay open because I know I shouldn’t look away, shouldn’t hide from my own darkness.

And I take the Scepter of the Earth, look into her eyes, and plunge the crystal into her chest.