In deeper waters, p.22
In Deeper Waters, page 22
“We don’t have to tell them about you.”
“Then how will we explain your rescue?”
“You stowed away on Garrett’s boat and jumped into the water when I went overboard. Then we used the jolly boat.”
“That’s ridiculous, Tal.”
Tal sank up to his chin in the warm water. “I don’t want you to feel forced into revealing yourself. Even if they are my family.”
“It’s all right. I chose to help you, and I knew it meant telling others what I am.”
“They may not believe us. You might have to show them… something.”
Athlen sighed. “Yes. I know that, too.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the chamber door.
After the creak of the hinges, Athlen said, “The physician is here to see you, my prince.”
“Right. Let him in.”
Tal rinsed the soap and wrapped a towel around his waist. He suffered the indignity of an exam, being poked and prodded and bandaged. His shoulder was healing well but would scar. His knee was painful and slightly swollen, and he allowed the physician to wrap it to stabilize the joint. The smaller cuts and bruises and aches and pains would diminish with rest and time.
After the physician toddled off, Tal sat on the edge of his bed and dressed.
“They brought you clothes as well,” Tal said, nodding to the extra folded pile.
Athlen picked up a shirt between his thumb and forefinger. He raised an eyebrow. “I think I prefer what I have on.”
“These are nicer.”
Athlen dropped the shirt. “And these are what I prefer,” he said, sweeping his hands down his body and wiggling his toes. “If your family is about to learn that I’m of the sea, then I should keep to the aesthetic.”
Tal laughed. “Fine.”
They left the room to find lunch, and Tal’s stomach growled when they sat at a table laden with food in the kitchens. His mouth watered, and all decorum disappeared as he dug into the meal of smoked turkey, baked ham, fresh fruit, green vegetables, and soft, warm bread.
Athlen lifted a perfect red apple and took a tentative bite before diving in, munching the crisp flesh and peel.
“Couldn’t wait?” Garrett asked, ambling in and plopping into a seat.
“No,” Tal said around a mouthful of food. He shoved a slice of fresh bread dripping with butter into his mouth. “We haven’t eaten in days.”
Garrett paused in loading his plate. “Days?”
Athlen nodded, nibbling around the core of his apple. “Days,” he echoed.
“Well,” Garrett said, clearing his throat, “here. Let me help you.” Garrett took Athlen’s plate and piled on the food. He slathered cakes in syrup and jam, speared sausages with a fork, and plopped a heap of potatoes onto the side. He set it in front of Athlen and nudged it with his fingers. “No need to be shy. Eat your fill.”
“I don’t think I can eat all of that.” Athlen exchanged a look with Tal.
Tal shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’d be rude not to try.”
Athlen raised an eyebrow but grabbed his fork and joined Tal in stuffing his mouth full.
* * *
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Athlen said, holding his stomach as he and Tal walked to the queen’s council chamber. “I ate too much.”
Tal groaned in agreement. His belly was uncomfortably full.
Garrett laughed at the pair of them. “Don’t throw up on the rug. It’s mother’s favorite. Aim for the stone.”
“That’s not funny, Garrett,” Tal said, hand hovering near his mouth.
Garrett’s expression turned solemn. His gaze raked over Tal’s skinny frame. “No, I guess it’s not.” He glanced at Athlen at Tal’s side. “Are you injured?”
Athlen lifted his head from where he’d been studying the paving stones and rugs under their feet. “What?”
“You’re moving… oddly.”
“Oh.” Athlen rubbed the back of his neck. A blush painted his cheeks. “I’m not used to riding. And we’ve been on a horse for days.”
Tal frowned. Not quite a lie and not quite a truth. Athlen was good at that, hiding his thoughts and feelings, tucking them away behind a congenial smile. The night in the bath must not have helped as much as Tal had hoped.
Athlen avoided looking at Tal and ducked his head again, his bare feet padding silently along the ribbon of thick carpet leading to the queen’s council chamber.
A few minutes later the trio stopped in front of a set of large, ornate doors. Several guards stood across the hallway, hands on their swords, sharp eyes boring holes into Athlen as he approached. Athlen paled and slowed, angling behind Tal.
Tal reached behind him and took Athlen’s clammy hand, squeezing it in reassurance.
Garrett gestured with his arm, and the line parted to allow them to pass. A steward opened the door to reveal the council room. A large, glossy table sat in the middle, its legs and trim covered in designs. Several high-backed wooden chairs with plush cushions encircled it. A sprawling rug covered the stone, the design a tangle of blue and purple threads radiating outward from the center of the room. Tapestries adorned three of the four walls, cushioning the sound and breezes from the windows in the fourth wall, and depicting some of Tal’s favorite fairy tales—unicorns frolicking with maidens, a manticore fighting a knight, a large black bear with horns and red eyes howling from the top of a mountain, and a scene of mermaids near a beach enticing sailors to swim in the froth of a tumultuous sea.
Tal hadn’t noticed that one before, not in the scant few times he’d been in this room, or the one that hung behind his mother—a picture of a mage with flames entwining her limbs and fire in her eyes, mouth open in a scream, her enemies crushed under her feet, a sword thrust through her middle from a knight behind her.
His grip tightened on Athlen’s hand as they entered.
The rest of Tal’s family already sat around the council table. His mother, the queen, presided at the head, her dark hair piled beneath her crown. Isa sat at her right hand, demure, the gold circlet around her forehead glinting in the light from the high windows in the stone wall. Kest was next to Isa, right arm in a sling, his tangled hair hanging in his pale face. Corrie leaned close by his side, ready to jump in if Kest tipped over. The seat at his mother’s left was open for Garrett, her second-born, and those next to Garrett’s were empty, presumably for Tal and Athlen.
The occupants of the room all swiveled to stare as the door swung shut behind the trio.
Tal followed Garrett and eased into his seat, pulling Athlen to the one next to him.
Athlen’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open as he took in the opulence. His hand trembled in Tal’s, and Tal noted the moment Athlen noticed the tapestries of the mermaids and the mage, as his body shuddered and his throat bobbed. He ducked his head.
“I’m glad you could join us,” his mother said, addressing Athlen. “I am honored to meet the man who saved my son.”
“Thank you,” Athlen said softly. He cleared his throat, eyes firmly on the table. “I’m happy to meet Tal’s family.”
Her eyebrows shot up at the familiarity, and Tal hid his wince.
“We’ve much to discuss regarding the treason and subterfuge committed by Princess Vanessa of Ossetia and her handmaiden, including what this means for our relationships with the other kingdoms, especially Mysten. First, I’d like to hear an account of Taliesin’s…” She paused, eyes fluttering shut, her fingers gripping the edge of the table. She took a steadying breath. “Of Taliesin’s misfortunes.”
Tal took a sip from the goblet in front of him to bolster his resolve, thankful it was filled with sweet wine. He licked his lips and, with a slight nudge from Athlen, began his tale. Under his family’s scrutiny, he recounted finding the derelict and freeing Athlen from the fetter. He told them about the sailor in the crew’s quarters who’d tried to kill him, before Shay chased him to his death. He spoke about the kidnapping on the beach, the shifter who’d chased him and dragged him from the waves when he tried to escape. He talked of the days on Zeph’s ship, the work and the pressure to reveal his magic, and how in the end he’d broken after seeing Kest in the hold and Garrett’s ships on the horizon. He told them how he’d fallen into the sea and would have drowned save for Athlen, and of his days in the cave healing with help from Dara, and their journey across the countryside—running into the men who’d held Athlen captive and the shifter from the beach, Vanessa’s maid.
The words tumbled over themselves, and while he left out the wonder of Athlen’s reveal, and the kisses they’d shared, and the despair he’d felt sending messages in blood and tar, they were all there in the telling, in the hitch of his breath, the stutter of his tongue, and the moisture on his cheeks, which he wiped away with his sleeve.
“Tally,” Isa breathed when he’d finished, tears glistening in her eyes. “You are so brave.”
“I’m not,” Tal said quickly. “I merely did what was needed to survive, to see you all again, to ensure our family would not come to harm.”
“You did well, Tally,” Garrett said, grasping his shoulder and squeezing. “You did well.”
Tal studied the table. “I was ashamed for what I did to Zeph’s ship and for my lack of control. I still am.” His voice cracked. “But I know that if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you now. And we’d be in a war that would hurt our kingdom, orchestrated by someone who doesn’t care about our people.”
“You did nothing wrong,” his mother said sharply. “They tortured you and you survived. That is what is important.”
Tal wilted under his mother’s scrutiny and nodded.
Kest tapped his fingers on the table. “How did Athlen save you from drowning? Garrett and I…” His words went quiet, his jaw worked, and his next words sounded thick with grief. “We searched and searched and almost drowned ourselves trying to find you.”
Tal shot a look to Athlen.
Athlen bit his lip, appearing small and intimidated in the presence of the royal house. He cleared his throat. “I’m a… I’m…” He licked his lips. “Well, I’ll show you.” He disentangled from Tal and lifted his hand, his long knobby fingers spread apart, and slowly they transformed, scales rippled over his skin, and webbing grew between the digits.
“Oh,” his mother said, fingertips at her throat, her expression one of delighted surprise. “A merman.”
Stunned silence followed, broken only by the sound of a shutter on the high windows shifting in the ocean wind. They stared, and Athlen dropped his hand and tucked it under the table, while a high blush spread into his cheeks.
“Yes,” Athlen said, voice wobbling high into a question.
Tal’s siblings erupted with questions. Tal ignored them, instead staring at the way his mother glanced wistfully at the tapestries in the room, settling on the one with the mermaids on the beach. Mind whirring, he took in the cadre of fantastic creatures—unicorns, mermaids, a manticore, a howler—and experienced his own epiphany.
“You knew,” he said.
The chaos died down at his words, and his mother smiled softly.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand,” Isa said.
Corrie squinted. “Knew what?”
His mother waved her hand toward the tapestries. “King Lon did damage to more than just the other kingdoms. He attacked all magic not his own, either killing it or driving it into hiding. The merfolk dove to the deep, where my grandfather could not follow, and remained.”
Poppy hadn’t been lying. She’d known. King Lon had killed the creatures, which meant he did drive the mage into the sea. The water mage and the sea witch were one and the same.
“The myths,” Kest said, leaning forward, Corrie’s hand on his arm to keep him from toppling. “The ones you made us read as children. They’re real?”
“In more ways than you can imagine.”
“How could you not tell me?”
“Ever the scholar,” Garrett said on a sigh. “If you’d spent more time at sea, you’d have heard the stories.”
Athlen’s eyes grew wide. “You know about merfolk?”
“Very little,” the queen said, “and only what my grandmother told me before she died. Unfortunately, the creatures were the first of Lon’s conquests, completed when he was a young man, before my mother was born. I’m afraid all their history is lost here on the continent. He saw to that.” Her words sat heavy over the group—a reminder of the ruthlessness and cruelty of their ancestor. “But I wonder,” she said, tapping her lips. “How are you able to traverse land? I wasn’t aware the merfolk could change at will like the shifters. It’s a different kind of magic, isn’t it?”
“We can’t. I made a bargain with a sea witch for legs. I was lonely after my family disappeared. That was several years ago.”
“And what was this bargain?”
“That’s not for discussion.” Athlen’s voice was clipped and strained, the little composure he’d gathered stripped away.
The queen frowned, and a tense silence settled in the room.
Athlen’s chin lifted in defiance.
“Athlen is the last,” Tal blurted.
Athlen startled, head whipping around to stare at Tal, then he hunched in his seat and confirmed Tal’s statement with a sharp nod. “It’s true.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Athlen,” his mother said. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Well,” Isa said, hands clasped tightly on the table. “This has been enlightening, but it does not address the fact that we are on the brink of war with Mysten and that Tally has shown the world that he is capable of carrying on Lon’s legacy.”
“What do you wish to do, my daughter? We can annul the marriage with Emerick. The alliance will stand, since they will be indebted to us after Vanessa’s treachery.”
“No, it’s stronger with the marriage ties. I don’t believe Emerick had anything to do with the plots against us.” She rubbed her brow, the first sign of her fatigue, her composure cracking slightly. “I don’t believe he’s capable.”
“We’ll need to be certain.”
“I’ll question the captives,” Garrett said. “I’ll wring the truth from them. Tally will accompany me. They’ve seen what he can do; they may provide more information under threat.”
Tal swallowed. “I’ll not hurt them.”
“You won’t have to,” Garrett said.
Isa straightened her posture. “And I’ll have Emerick send a letter to his brother, King Rodrick, and demand an apology and recompense for what their sister has done to my brothers.”
“And Tally?” Kest asked. “His magic?”
“Tally can stay behind the castle walls, right?” Corrie asked. She clutched Kest’s arm. “It was a mistake. We’ll say it was a mistake.”
“I’ll not hide,” Tal said, frowning. He studied the grain of the table, his brow furrowed, his words slow but true. “Not again. I’m not him. I thought, maybe, that I would be, because we share the same fire. But I’m not.” Tal had made mistakes. He’d burned the pirate ship in his weakest moment, but he’d resolved he’d never do anything like that again. He wouldn’t, because as freeing as it had felt, as desperate as he’d been, it was terrible and terrifying. “I won’t do the things he did. Never. Not even at the order of my queen. And I’m not afraid anymore.” Tal met the gaze of his mother. “I’m not afraid of myself.” He lifted his palm, and fire danced along his skin and dripped from his fingertips, sizzling the wood of the table where it landed. “Of what I can do.”
“I don’t believe hiding is an option now,” his mother said. She did better than Corrie at disguising her fear, but Tal could see the sorrow etched in her features, the weight of the decisions ahead of them.
“There are rumors in the towns about me. And I know you’ve always said they’re just rumors, but if enough people speak them, if enough people believe in them, then they aren’t just rumors. They are truth. Those same rumors are why I was taken and why we’re in this situation. Hiding me may have been the right choice when I was young, but it’s certainly not anymore. Now we must control the narrative. We have to change the misconceptions about magic, and to do that, I have to reveal myself. I must show the world that I’m not another Lon.”
“I agree,” the queen said, eyes shining with pride. “The other kingdoms will want to meet you, Taliesin. They will want to hear this all from you to allay their concerns.”
“Then invite them,” Tal said. “Invite them here or I’ll go to them.”
“That’s too dangerous,” Garrett said, elbows on the table. “We’ve seen what happens when you travel. They’ll come here.”
“A celebration,” Isa said. “Some kind of celebration.”
“What kind? We’ve just had a wedding,” Kest said.
Isa’s lips thinned. “That was an alliance. And rushed, at that, due to… unforeseen circumstances. We’ll have another. A celebration of joy.”
“Yes,” the queen said, her shrewd gaze settling on Tal. “The king of Mysten has a bastard daughter. He’s been looking for a way to make her legitimate. If we provide one, he may forgive our transgressions against them.” Her jaw clenched. “I promised myself I would never ask any of you to marry for an alliance, but I’m afraid I will have to break that promise.”
Kest cleared his throat. “How old is she?”
His mother sighed softly, then raised her head, opened her eyes, and addressed the table with her usual regal bearing. “She is seventeen.”
Tal froze.
Athlen clamped his hand down on Tal’s wrist on the table, chilled fingers wrapping firmly around Tal’s arm.
His mother zeroed in on the gesture.
“Corrie,” she said softly, “I think it’s time our guest was shown to the quarters he’ll be using while he is staying with us.”
Corrie frowned. “Hey, I’m a part of this family! I want to know what happens.”
“You’ll be informed as soon as we’ve discussed it. But as you’re too young to be considered, it’s not your concern. I require this other task of you. See to our guest. Treat him with the respect you would a hero who saved your brother.”
