Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) Read online

“It’s not a tale,” I said, temper flaring. “Most of us in this room know what it’s like out there. Why send more girls on the Massacre when there’s a way we can avoid it?”

  “Metlaa Gaela,” said Anyo, finally opening his mouth. “It is a noble goal to protect the future girls of Eriana Kwai. But—”

  “But the Massacres are looking up,” said Mujihi.

  “How many times have we said that in the past?” I said. “Sending women instead of men might be a more successful strategy, but it doesn’t change the fact that a lot of them are going to die before we get anywhere—if we get anywhere!”

  No matter what, I couldn’t let another Massacre happen. Adaro’s rising desperation, along with my failure to find the Host in time, meant the next Massacre would end worse than ever—for the warriors aboard the ship, for my people, and for Lysi.

  My heart ached to think about it. Lysi was his hostage right now. I had no idea where she was, or what he was doing with her.

  “We have a newer strategy yet,” said Mujihi. “A new training master.”

  I opened my mouth, but his words hit me like a rock to the head. I spluttered.

  “New—what—new training—?”

  Anyo flicked his gaze to me before lowering it to the table. I caught a glint of apology in his dark, tired eyes.

  Mujihi clasped a huge, calloused hand on Anyo’s shoulder.

  “Since your departure in May, I have taken over the training program. We have been working on new strategies and experimenting with a deadlier range of weapons.”

  “No,” I said before I could stop myself.

  Mujihi’s expression darkened, giving him the appearance of a hawk on the hunt.

  “It’s just—Anyo has always been the training master. You can’t change that.”

  I felt Annith’s eyes on me. This, we had not planned for.

  “With Anyo’s daughter in training,” said Mujihi, “the committee felt there was a conflict of interest. Besides, many have been pushing for a change in the program for years.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “And I suppose you had a vote on the new training master.”

  “It was an obvious choice,” said Hassun. “No one else had a plan for new weapons, better training—even the idea to send women in the first place.”

  Mujihi puffed out his chest. I caught a glimpse of Dani in his expression.

  I turned back to my father, waiting for him to offer any shred of support. He was watching Mujihi, jaw tight.

  “Girls,” said the widow, “I think I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate your ideas for helping our people. But we have no evidence of the Host of Eriana. This legend isn’t substantiated by anything, which gives us no reason to pursue it.”

  “If we had some help, and gave our best shot at finding it …” said Annith, but not a single face showed interest.

  My father drummed his knuckles on the table. “Have you exhausted all potential sources of evidence?”

  “The library is … limited,” I said, shifting in the rigid chair.

  Since returning from the Massacre, Annith and I had read every book on our people’s history, including essays, newspaper archives, a reference book on local fungi, even a picture book called Ern the Eagle Learns to Fly.

  “Certainly, there are pieces of history we don’t know about,” said my father. “Many legends have been passed verbally and lost over time. I suggest you find proof, and then—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Hassun. “We need to keep fighting. If we stop the Massacres, we’re surrendering.”

  “We want to stop the Massacres, not give up,” I said. “We’ll still use the trainees. They’ll help us find the Host. Just don’t send them to sea. Adaro’s army is getting stronger and the mermaids will probably sink the ship within the first few days.”

  At this proclamation, the silence in the room thickened. Either the idea scared them, or they were wondering why I knew so much about Adaro’s army.

  “You have nearly a year before the next Massacre,” said the widow. “I suggest you do your best, and if you haven’t found this Host before then, we’ll keep doing what we know works.”

  “But the Massacres don’t work!” I said, slapping the table. “They’re a death sentence! These girls will be doomed the second their ship hits open water.”

  “Can we wrap this up?” said Hassun, watching Dani fix her ponytail.

  I stood. “No. This committee was formed to protect our people and save us from sea demons, and you’re ignoring a real solution.”

  “Meela, sit down,” said my father.

  “I think we should end this meeting before tempers get out of hand,” said Mujihi with exaggerated calmness.

  I dropped into my chair. “I’m fine.”

  “No, we’re done here,” said Hassun. “I have to go close up the foundry.”

  I clenched my fists. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.

  “So you’re willing to send a girl out to fight for our people,” I said, “but you’re not willing to listen to what she has to say?”

  “It’s not like that,” said my father, but I didn’t want to hear it from him. I wanted to hear it from the others.

  “You’re using us,” I said. “You’re training us to fight this war because it’s the only way to battle the sea demons, but you won’t take us seriously. We trained for five years and spent a month on the fringe of being eaten alive. We deserve to be treated like adults.”

  “Then as an adult,” said the widow, rising, “you understand we cannot base a decision to stop training for the Massacres on a myth for which you have no evidence.”

  I sat back, scanning their indifferent faces. My insides quivered with anger, disappointment, and regret for letting myself think they might listen.

  “I have to get back to planning my lessons,” said Mujihi.

  He, Anyo, and the widow made for the door. Hassun leapt up to walk beside Dani. I could have gagged.

  My father remained at the table with Annith and me.

  Amid the scuffling feet and creaking chairs, he leaned in. “Metlaa Gaela, I understand your empathy for the Massacre trainees. But it’s in your best interest to give the new program a chance.”

  I stood, refusing to look at him, and stormed out the door. Annith trailed behind me as I headed in the opposite direction of everyone, deeper into the woods. The cold evening air stung my burning cheeks.

  The people I’d fought for didn’t believe me. They thought I was paranoid. My own father wouldn’t stand up for me. Anyo, who’d become as close as an uncle throughout my time in the training program, hadn’t said more than a few words.

  I stomped on a fat mushroom, which exploded into brown powder.

  When we’d retreated a safe distance from the cabin, I rounded on Annith.

  “How could they possibly—how could they even think—how can they ignore—”

  I twisted my fingers in my hair, at a loss.

  “I can’t believe no one told us about Anyo. Six weeks, Dani’s father’s been the training master.”

  “Unbelievable,” said Annith, crossing her arms. “Anyo must have been sacked, like, the day we left.”

  I rubbed a hand across my face.

  “They like Dani,” I said weakly.

  Of everything that happened during the meeting, I’d found this to be the most disturbing. How could they let Dani attend their meetings, charm them with her fake smile, speak as though worthy of being listened to? Didn’t they understand what she’d done on the Massacre? Every girl who survived could attest to it: Dani was a murderer. She had killed Shaena and hadn’t faced so much as a scolding since we had come home.

  “It’s because Mujihi’s her father,” whispered Annith. “I mean, new training master? This is totally why she hasn’t had to answer for what she did.”

  I stared at the ground, speechless. Somewhere overhead, a saw-whet owl whistled. The other birds had fallen silent, tucking in for the night.

  “T
hat’s why Dani’s so opposed to stopping the Massacres,” I said. “No doubt she’ll be offering opinions on how the girls should be trained.”

  “But what’s up with the rest of the committee?”

  “They don’t trust me,” I said.

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. They know I trusted a mermaid.”

  Even if they did believe me, they dismissed the idea that sea demons could be intelligent. My people had never been willing to believe mermaids had minds like ours. But they did. Mermaids fought like humans, laughed like humans, and loved like humans.

  Over and over, I’d pictured the expressions on my parents’ faces if I told them my feelings about Lysi—my mother crying, my father yelling himself hoarse about how I’d shamed the family and the memory of my older brother.

  It didn’t matter. Standing there in the woods, my heart ached at the thought of Lysi, like Adaro’s giant, webbed fist was clenched around it, pulsing every so often to remind me how easily he could end it all.

  Annith squeezed my shoulder and I looked up. She was watching me closely.

  “We’ll get your friend back,” she said.

  I stared back into her hazel eyes.

  My friend. Even though Annith knew about Lysi, I’d kept the details of my feelings to myself. Annith didn’t know Lysi was more than a friend. Even I didn’t know whether Lysi was more than a friend, or if she felt the same. The realisation of it embarrassed me.

  Trying to talk about such a complicated feeling with Annith would achieve a level of awkwardness I never wanted to face. Even talking about crushes on boys made me uncomfortable, never mind this.

  “Now what?” said Annith. “None of them believed us. Did you see their faces? They think we’re totally nuts.”

  I frowned. “Maybe they don’t believe us, but that doesn’t change anything. We need to go after Adaro.”

  The owl whistled again, and I lifted my gaze to the maple tree.

  Even though Annith stood by my side, loyal as ever, I felt alone.

  “We’re going to have to find the Host without their help,” I said, my words crisp in the silence.

  I waited for Annith to argue, anticipating that she would turn homewards and leave me. But she straightened, facing me with a gleam in her eyes.

  “Where do we start?”

  With a grim smile, I turned in the direction of the ocean. The woods had stilled enough that the swishing waves carried faintly to where we stood.

  I had been thinking about it for a while, though I hadn’t brought it up. It would be dangerous. But we could do it without the help of the Massacre trainees.

  “Skaaw Beach.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Adaro’s Prisoner

  My escape might not have gone so well, if I wasn’t trained in the art of punching someone’s face in.

  I left Katus hunched with his hands over his nose. Blood clouded between his fingers. Ladon would be working out how he got stuck inside my prison cell.

  Arms held tight to my sides, I shot towards the kelp forest. My body waved smoothly, tail beating quick strokes in the open water.

  The current pushed against me. A short drop below, plankton drifted forwards. I dove, finding the favourable current and letting it propel me faster.

  Of course, the guards were also trained in combat, and their thicker frames would be to their advantage if they caught me. That wouldn’t happen. Mermen had brawn, but nothing could match the speed and agility of a mermaid.

  The kelp forest towered ahead. Its lush, weedy scent wafted towards me. Trees faded into the blue on either side, anchoring to the rocks and rising into a canopy above. The dense tangle would mask me from my guards. The swaying plants and darting fish would stop them from sensing me.

  Shouts rang in my ears. Their presence closed in on me like an oil slick. They were too close, and swimming fast.

  Still, I was faster.

  I exploded through a school of herring, sending tremors and bubbles in all directions.

  I reached the forest and didn’t slow down. I adjusted my rhythm, my tail making quick, small movements, getting me through the trees at breakneck speed. Blacksmith fish scattered, little blue blurs that moved hardly fast enough. If I were hunting, they wouldn’t have had a chance.

  Buoys on the kelp pummelled me as I darted by. The greenery thickened, the world darkened, the water warmed.

  The sound of my pursuers faded. They must have been slowing down. No way could they navigate the kelp this quickly.

  I dove abruptly, letting my wake hit the trees and dissipate.

  The darkness intensified. The forest isolated the outside noise, like a cavern closing around me. I stopped before I hit the rocky bottom.

  Water gulped against my ears. Any life had scattered, leaving me isolated in every direction.

  Heart pounding, I waited. I pushed down my anxiety in case they felt it, swaying with the trees, forcing my pulse to slow. I focused on the vibrations brushing my skin.

  There was nothing more here than flapping fins and twirling comb jellies.

  Somewhere, I smelled the blood from Katus’ nose. They weren’t far.

  As soon as I lost them, I planned to zigzag back up the currents to the Gulf of Alaska. I refused to float around, a pathetic hostage, while Meela carried out her end of Adaro’s bargain. I had to help her.

  I ached to think of home—of Meela on Eriana Kwai, of my family in Utopia. I’d never travelled this far from them in my life.

  Ripples hit my senses. A face appeared beside me.

  I recoiled, blowing bubbles in surprise.

  A sea lion. His playfulness tickled my senses, an aura I felt beneath my skin. He stared at me with huge black eyes, then blew a bubble from his nose, returning my gesture.

  No, I thought. Get lost.

  He zoomed back and forth in front of me. The surrounding plants swayed.

  I drove a current at him with my tail. Katus and Ladon couldn’t find me because of this.

  The animal poked me with his nose and looked away as though to pretend it wasn’t him.

  On an ordinary day, I might have welcomed the game. But he was going to betray my position.

  I snarled, letting my eyes fill with blood and my teeth lengthen.

  The sea lion froze. His eyes widened. With a flip of his fins, he shot backwards into the forest.

  I waited until I lost the feel of him, and then sank into the rocks. My state remained predatory, ready to fight if the guys had felt the movement.

  My muscles were tired, weak. My lungs ached. I hadn’t breached in a quarter-tide. But I couldn’t surface now. Not yet.

  “Over here!”

  Ladon’s voice bounced off the trees. I tensed, trying to gauge which direction to flee.

  “That’s not her, fish face. That’s a sea lion.”

  I opened my mouth in silent protest that he could mistake this body for that fat, hairy animal.

  “Oh. You sure she didn’t flounder?”

  “She never got breath. Give it time. She’ll have to surface.”

  “We don’t have time. What’ll happen if the king finds Lysithea’s cell empty?”

  Silence. Then, with an air of panic, Katus said, “Maybe she’ll stay low and black out on us.”

  He might have been right. Each thud of my heart brought me closer to running out of oxygen. My chest burned. I floated limp, trying to save the tiny puff left in my lungs.

  A crab passed my nose on its way up a rope of kelp. It paused, seemed to decide it would rather stay near the bottom, and changed direction. I watched it, envying a life so simple.

  My skin prickled in the heat, like I’d landed in a pit of toxic algae. Wherever I was, it was much too hot. I guessed they’d taken me to the Fractures—the coast of what Meela called California.

  Not for the first time, I cursed Adaro. I’d taken an oath, trained for years, and fought his war against humans, and this was how he thanked me?

  I reminded myself how
quickly I’d broken my oath when I found Meela on the ship I was sent to destroy.

  As though triggered by the thought of Meela, my lungs spasmed with pain.

  Maybe I was lucky. At least Adaro had kept me alive. Still, I didn’t trust him or his promise of peace. He knew Meela would do anything to save her people.

  If I could get to Eriana Kwai, I could help her. This thing Adaro called the Host must have had the potential to control the seas. Why else would he want it? With that power, we could instate a new queen or king.

  Desperate for breath, I glanced towards the surface. Beams of sunlight peeked through the canopy, illuminating patches of greenery and leaving others in shadow.

  I had no choice. If I swam further, they would feel my movement. Plus, the exertion would use up my last breath in a single heartbeat.

  My lungs gave a desperate squeeze. I couldn’t bear it any longer.

  Rockfish cleared out of my path as I shot upwards. An otter paused to watch me dart by.

  Halfway to the top, a pulse hit me from above.

  “No,” I whispered.

  A body eclipsed the sun.

  Without pausing to think, I bent at the waist and dove—and stopped short. Another presence closed in from below.

  Ladon streaked towards me, wooden spear in hand.

  “You made it far this time,” said Katus from overhead.

  I darted blindly sideways and collided with a tangle of weeds.

  Ladon reached for me. I slammed him with my tail, knocking the wind from his lungs in a stream of bubbles.

  Lights popped in my vision.

  Air.

  I tore through the weeds, scrambling to reach the surface. My senses clouded over.

  Up.

  For several desperate heartbeats, I knew only the shimmering light above.

  Finally, my head broke through the canopy. I took a long, gasping breath.

  The harsh sunlight blinded me. I coughed out seawater, panting hard, too dizzy to do anything but inhale.

  Ripples hit me on either side.

  My next breath came as a sob. I didn’t have time to inhale deeply. I had to dive—but I was too late. A webbed hand grabbed my hair.

  I shrieked, squirming to get away.

  “I’ve had it with these seal hunts,” said Katus, dragging me like a dead tuna. “I’m gonna ask if we can cut off her fin.”