Mervidia, p.9
Mervidia, page 9
Uchenna opened his eyes. White a moment before, they now glowed an ominous inky shade of purple.
“I will deal with any complications,” Uchenna stated, his voice resonating throughout the room, amplified by his magically charged body. The weight of his voice pushed his kin to the floor, and Marin felt the chill of the stones through her palms as she bowed with her hands on the ground, fingers splayed out before her father. “You three will obey my wishes. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, father,” Ebon and Marin said together, as their foreheads were pushed to the floor. The young kalku female thought her head would be crushed against the stone; the pressure was rapidly approaching lethal force. Marin inwardly growled, as she clenched her teeth against the pain. I… will… not scream … I will prove… myself… a worthy… daughter.
“As you wish, my love,” Odette said more slowly, her body pushed to the floor but her head was still raised. Her eyes were boldly focused on Uchenna and held a palpable amount of derision.
Marin felt immense pride, as she rotated her head slightly to look upon her mother. She does not bow easily, Marin thought, trying to divert her attention from the physical pain that was being inflicted upon her. One day, I will be her. Marin knew that her mother was strong enough in her own kalku magic that she was most likely only lowering herself in a display of respect, not because Uchenna’s spell had forced her as it had his young, still-pliant progenies.
A knock at the door broke the tension in the room, and Uchenna released the spell with a simple exhalation through his rib gills. The room’s current resumed, as refreshing as it had been before. Odette and her children rose. The octolaide matron was closest to the door, so she opened it.
For the domo to be disturbed in such a delicate meeting with his family, it must be important, Marin thought, trying her best to compose herself after her father’s disturbing display of dominance.
A House Chimaera guard stood just outside the door. He held a bone spear in one hand, and two more of the weapons in his tentacles. His other arm was extended, causing his conch shell pauldron to tilt backwards, as he held out a scroll to Odette. She took it, nodded curtly, and closed the door.
Odette broke the mucus seal, unrolled the parchment, made from an expired seifeira, judging by the swirling tattoos on its outside, and read its contents. Marin could not tell what it said; her mother’s stone-like face betrayed nothing. When Odette was done, she rolled up the scroll and swam across the room, handing it to Uchenna.
“Flinn of House Lumen is dead,” Odette stated. Uchenna took the scroll from her, reopened it, and began eagerly reading it himself. “He was found just outside the palace, mutilated almost beyond recognition by House Lumen’s own shiver of frilled sharks,” Odette supplied to her children. Uchenna finished reading the news for himself and set the scroll down on his desk.
“At least we won’t have to worry about Flinn now,” Uchenna said with a small smirk, but his enthusiastic expression rapidly sobered. “This means that someone else is working and working fast. We must quickly put our plan into motion or we’ll be beaten in the race for the Fangs.” Uchenna’s face grew thoughtful. “Come, Ebon,” he said, swimming across the room to his stepson’s side and placing a guiding hand upon his back. “I need to prepare you for the Queen’s funeral tomorrow and the next Coral Assembly meeting. If you are called inside and asked to speak, you must look the part of a king, and more importantly your words must be chosen carefully.” Without so much as a glance at the females, Uchenna departed with Ebon, placing his hand onto his stepson’s shoulder as he escorted him out of the room. Ebon had probably already forgiven their father for his angry magical outburst.
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 before 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.
