Ice Kingdom Read online

  He reminded himself his time didn’t matter today. This was about getting back in the water. He refused to let it become a PTSD trigger.

  Personal victories, he told himself.

  Still, he should have been faster.

  In the lane next to him, Bagh splashed to a stop and pulled off his goggles, panting.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah,” said Reeves. “Thanks.”

  Their voices echoed in the empty building.

  “Beer pong tonight. You in?”

  Reeves could hardly imagine playing drinking games at the moment, but he said, “Maybe.”

  “It’s okay, I get it. You’re afraid I’ll kick your ass again.”

  He laughed. “I’m positive you’ll kick my ass, Bagh.”

  “We could play something you’re good at. I don’t know, a game where you have to do math to make the other person take a shot?”

  Reeves shook his head, grateful for the cause to smile.

  Across the pool, the hum of the hot tub beckoned him. “I’m gonna hit the jets.”

  He left Bagh to continue his laps—where he would most certainly do better than forty minutes.

  Reeves peeled off his swim cap and was about to sink into the hundred-and-four-degree tub when he heard a distant ringing. He jogged carefully across the tiles to grab his phone.

  “Hi, sir.”

  “There you are,” said Officer Miller.

  “Sorry. I was doing laps.”

  “Running?”

  “No.”

  A pause.

  “Swimming?” said Miller. When Reeves didn’t reply he said, “Jesus. Take a rest.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Perhaps the officer had a point, given that Reeves had had to spend four terrifying hours treading among Perseus’ wreckage before anyone found him. But to Reeves, ten days was enough recovery time.

  He sank into the hot tub with the phone pressed to his ear.

  “Listen, you don’t have to do this anymore,” said Miller. “You can retire with a generous reward for your service.”

  Retire? He wasn’t even thirty yet, and the man wanted him to retire?

  “I appreciate it, sir, but I can’t accept. My entire team—” He ground his teeth. Saying it aloud sounded so matter-of-fact. No words could describe it properly. He drew a breath. “My team died because of me. And Larson’s.”

  “There was nothing you could do.”

  “I could have refused to let it happen.”

  “You would have been disobeying orders. You had no choice.”

  “Every action a man takes is a choice.”

  Miller fell silent. Reeves shifted so the strongest jet hit his left shoulder blade.

  He didn’t even mention the mass destruction the Gulf of Alaska would have undergone if all twenty torpedoes had launched. He had never been much of an environmentalist, but he couldn’t believe how close he had come to destroying an entire ecosystem. His kids—if he ever had any—would never have been able to see a whale, and it would have been his fault.

  “We can’t fight the merman with depth charges,” said Reeves. “Not when he has a leviathan in his power.”

  “We’ve got choppers and satellites tracking the thing until we figure out what to do.”

  At least they were taking a more calculated approach. Still, it had taken a lot of wasted deaths for this to happen.

  “Did you relay the message he gave me?” said Reeves.

  The word ‘me’ was bitter on his tongue. He wished the merman had chosen someone else to deliver the message—one of his crew, who deserved to be alive instead of him.

  “Every vessel is on its way to shore,” said Miller.

  “What about the international ones?”

  “Them, too.”

  Reeves closed his eyes and leaned back. Good. Those lives, at least, he could save.

  After a long silence, Miller sighed. “Look, why don’t you take a vacation somewhere. Go on one of those college cruises. You’ve been through a lot and need time to recover. Physically and mentally.”

  Reeves drew a breath of chlorine-infused steam. After everything he’d been through, every award he’d received, they didn’t trust him.

  “We have marine experts advising us over here,” said Miller, as if reading his thoughts. “Scientists. Biologists. As much as I hate to admit it, this is out of our expertise.”

  “It’s not. You said yourself this is an act of terrorism.”

  Miller hesitated. “The line is fuzzy.”

  Officer Miller was right that Reeves was completely exhausted. In fact, he was too exhausted to argue any longer.

  “All right. I’ll look into a vacation.”

  “Good. I hear Dominican is real nice. My niece went there on spring break. She’s about your age.”

  Reeves drove home from the pool in silence, not even allowing the radio to distract him. He would have to research Norse legend. He remembered reading about the Midgard Serpent as a teen, when he and his friends were on a fantasy role-playing campaign. He was a Paladin, back then. God, how things changed. How would sixteen-year-old Ben react, knowing he would live his dream and become a Team Chief in a few years’ time? Would he be proud to know the path he’d followed, the decisions he’d made?

  The Midgard Serpent was one myth he would investigate, but other cultures must have had legends of sea monsters and serpents, too. One of them surely had information on how to kill it—or how the merman managed to gain control of it.

  When Reeves got home, he defrosted the most generous portion of spaghetti he had and topped it with half a block of cheese. He then crossed to his bookshelf and pulled down the twice-opened King James Bible his grandma had given him. He would start his research here. He seemed to recall something about a leviathan in the Bible.

  What’s gotten into you? said a voice in his head. A few near-death experiences and you’ve turned into a praying man who spends Friday night reading the Bible.

  He pulled out a barstool, took a mouthful of spaghetti, and cracked the book open.

  He didn’t care. He would keep praying. On the brink of whatever this was, he needed a god to turn to.

  CHAPTER TWELVE - Lysi

  The Atlantic Kingdom

  If we had to spend one more day in the Arctic, I would go insane. The sun taunted us, circling our heads and bouncing off the horizon without setting.

  We must have travelled for half a tidecycle; it was hard to track.

  When we made it south enough that twilight finally darkened the sky, I nearly cried in relief.

  “I never want to see another iceberg,” said Meela.

  I grimaced. Mentally, we were diminished. Physically, we were disasters—bony from the long days of exertion, and moving with the agility of a couple of sea cucumbers. Meela’s hair, like mine, was packed with plant life. It had reached the point where she could no longer undo her braids. Thankfully, her green eyes still sparkled when she looked at me.

  “Is that it?” she said, running a hand up her arm. She must have been talking about the activity on the current.

  “Should be.”

  I tried to smile. It came off nervously. Except for my deployment to the South Pacific, which hardly counted, I’d never been to another kingdom. I wondered how much we would stick out as foreigners.

  We followed the activity, nerves tightening with every stroke. And then we were in the midst of it. One moment, we were surrounded by coral, and the next, merpeople bustled on all sides. They talked and laughed and went about their business.

  I gaped at Meela. We made it.

  My shock gave way to awe. Ahead, kelp archways lined the main street, swaying with the current. Beyond it, stone buildings loomed so high they broke the surface. Every structure was alive with plants, starfish, coral, and algae, reminding me how ancient the city was.

  Meela’s mouth was open, her eyes enormous. I let out a laugh. I was making
the same face.

  “Why are you surprised?” she said.

  “Utopia’s nothing like this!”

  As we passed a large tower that was full of grottos, I rolled onto my back to see the top of it. Merpeople climbed out and plunged back in. It opened to a plateau above the surface, and I wondered what the plaza must look like, if it was full of sunbathing mermaids.

  The majority of civilians looked northern like us. I’d thought our haggard appearances would draw attention, but everyone’s style here was so different that, for all anyone knew, Meela and I looked like this intentionally. In the realm of hair alone, I saw intricacies like spikes, spirals moulded with clay, and complex braids laced with jewels. Some mermaids wore clothing, spanning everything from live sea creatures to human-made items like bikinis and fishing nets. Like South Pacific merpeople, many had piercings and gems embedded in their skin.

  I’d never known Adaro’s kingdom was so, frankly, boring. Was it because Adaro had forced it to be that way? Was it about order, structure, and obedience? Or was everyone just too afraid to be different?

  A noisy family with six children passed, each trailing a glowing blue squid on a leash.

  “Should we ask for directions to the queen?” said Meela.

  I struggled to get my brain working. One of the children with the squids stopped to stare at us. We were blatantly acting like outsiders.

  “No. Don’t talk to anyone.” I scanned our surroundings. “I think we keep following this.”

  The street we were on proved to be an artery that flowed through the city, with branches leading to buildings and more plazas.

  “Three pounds for unlimited time!” shouted a merman at the base of a tower.

  He caught my eye and grinned, motioning upwards.

  “Highest open-air waterfall in the Atlantic, girls!”

  Curiosity ate at me. But even if we had time to stop and lounge, we had nothing to pay with. Since being enlisted, I hadn’t seen a single coin, never mind three pounds.

  We passed through a market, everyone selling what they claimed were the boldest styles and tastiest snacks and most beautifying makeup. Meela tried to politely decline everyone who waved us over, until I grabbed her elbow and pulled her along faster. “We’ll never get anywhere if you keep stopping.”

  Night was falling. It must have been nearing midnight. What were we supposed to do if we couldn’t see the queen tonight? Where would we sleep?

  Something loomed ahead, huge enough to block the currents beyond. I first thought it was a natural ridge in the landscape—but it was a palace. Ancient and built from stone, it was blanketed in coral and starfish. Four towers framed either side of the entrance, which was a circle large enough to fit a blue whale. Where the towers broke the surface, blurry outlines told me they rose to magnificent peaks.

  I felt nothing beyond it. The impenetrable wall stretched from floor to ceiling.

  Meela and I slowed as we neared the door, which was blocked by several guards. Their broad chests were encased in stone armour that looked impractically heavy. I couldn’t see any weapons, but that didn’t put me at ease.

  In Utopia, anyone who wanted to see the king had to report to Nemertes—not that anyone ever did. But we knew the procedure. What were we supposed to do here? Who did we talk to?

  With no better plan, I approached one of the guards. “Excuse me, sir. We’d like to speak to the queen.”

  Meela swam up beside me. The guard squinted at us.

  “Do you have a summons?”

  “No,” I said, at the same moment as Meela said, “Yes.”

  The guard looked between us, saw Meela glare at me, and laughed. It wasn’t a malicious laugh, more like he thought we were being cute.

  “I’ll check if she can squeeze you in tomorrow.”

  “We’ve come with important information—” said Meela.

  “Of course you have.”

  “—from the Pacific.”

  He stopped grinning. “You what?”

  His tone should have given me pause. Maybe I was too tired from our trek, or maybe I was emboldened by Meela getting to the point, because I said, “We’re from Adaro’s kingdom and we want to talk—”

  There was a flurry around us, and before I could turn, several large hands grabbed me.

  “Wait!” said Meela.

  The guards had closed on us. I tried to reach for Meela to pull her away from them, but it was too late. They hauled me back, gripping hard enough to make me cry out.

  “We just want to talk to Medusa!” I said. “We have information on Adaro—”

  Something bashed me on the head. The world became jagged. My longblade was torn from my grip.

  “Take them to the cells.”

  “No!” I said.

  “We want to help Medusa!” said Meela.

  I struggled, desperately trying to keep track of Meela. The shock of being seized so quickly settled over me. I should have seen this coming. If Adaro didn’t like anyone mentioning Medusa, then of course Medusa wouldn’t like anyone mentioning Adaro.

  “Let us go, then,” I said, though I knew it was too late to backtrack. “We’ll get out of the city.”

  The guards dragged us around the side of the palace. We entered an empty alley that was so removed from the rest of the city it felt as though we had entered a different part of the ocean. The floor angled downwards and into an underground cave.

  “Listen to us,” said Meela. “This is important!”

  They pushed us into a vertical passage. It spiralled straight down, too narrow to turn around in. All daylight vanished after the second turn. The tiny space pressed in on me. I had to force myself not to panic.

  “Tell the queen we want to share Adaro’s plan,” I said. “Please tell her that.”

  We emerged into a pitch black room. My senses told me the walls were rough stone, lined with cells barely large enough to turn around in. None of them were occupied.

  They threw me into a cell and slid the door closed behind me. I whirled and grabbed the bars, determined to break them. They, too, were made of stone, and they groaned feebly under my efforts.

  Another door slammed. They had shoved Meela into the cell beside mine.

  “Wait!” I said.

  But they left without explanation, without telling us how long we would be there or what they planned to do with us.

  I cast my senses around and was relieved to find a pocket of air overhead. They hadn’t put us here to die. I rose and drew breath, trying to think. My head was pounding from where the guard had struck me. How had this gone so wrong so quickly?

  Still, I didn’t know what else we could have done. Maybe we shouldn’t have mentioned Adaro—but then how would we have gotten in? Maybe we should have pretended we were here about something else until we were past the guards.

  We obviously weren’t dispensable, considering we were still alive. Maybe they wanted to hear what we had to say before making a decision on what to do with us.

  Or maybe they were saving us for a public execution.

  Couldn’t they have told us anything?

  In the cell beside me, Meela was panicking. She slammed her body against the door, each impact pushing air from her lungs.

  “Take a breath,” I said softly. “There’s air above you.”

  “Don’t tell me to take a breath!”

  “Fine,” I snapped. “Suffocate, then.”

  There was a resounding thud as she slammed against the stone. “We can’t be stuck here! We’re the only ones who can stop him!”

  “Mee, calm down.”

  “No! I came all the way here for you, Lysi.”

  I ground my teeth. Was she really blaming me for this? “You didn’t come here for me. You came here because you decided this would be the best way to get your revenge.”

  “What if he’s on his way to my people? My parents, my friends, even Nilus and my nieces—they’re all in da
nger, Lysi! He’ll kill all of them. I need to—”

  “What, you need to kill him back?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You have a choice about how it affects you. You can kill him because you have to, but you don’t have to let it do this to you.”

  “Do what to me?”

  “This …” I waved a hand. The right words escaped me. In truth, Meela had been scaring me lately. Except for a brief time when we’d swum with the narwhals, her aura had become so dark.

  “Obsession,” I said. “You don’t care what sacrifices you need to make to get to him.”

  She didn’t respond.

  I waited, wondering if I’d been too harsh. Was she that oblivious to the way she’d been feeling and acting lately? Or did she really not care who she lost in the process?

  After a moment, she said, “You think I like what this is doing to me? It’s like my mind is spending so much time with the thing I hate most that I’m starting to hate myself, too. It’s eating me from the inside.”

  I couldn’t think of anything comforting to say. Her confession didn’t surprise me.

  “I need you,” she said. “You’re the balance that keeps me sane.”

  “Is that the only reason you want me in your life? You need a balance of love and hate to keep you from going insane?”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She hesitated. “I don’t even think hate is the opposite of love anymore.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean … they share too many traits to be opposites. Both are all-consuming, keep you awake at night, give you this crazy feeling in your gut. You know what I mean?”

  Maybe it should have been sweet, if she was describing what love did to her—but it wasn’t, because she was putting me on the same plane as Adaro.

  “You’re saying it’s all just obsession,” I said.

  “I don’t know. Never mind.”

  I let it drop, my heart aching too much to continue the conversation.

  In the never-ending blackness, I couldn’t tell how much time passed. Stomach pains told me we’d missed several meals. My eyelids grew heavy. I might have dozed off, though there was little difference between closing my eyes and the pressing darkness.