Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) Page 26

  Of course there would be death. Of course everyone involved—sharks included—would be slashed and beaten. The guards had sworn oaths and would do everything in their abilities to protect the king, including dying for him.

  Junior slammed into Adaro with enough force to drive the king backwards.

  For a moment, Adaro struggled to retaliate. Junior’s two maces were blurs, striking Adaro in the face, neck, and arms.

  The king straightened, trident in one hand and hook in the other, and fought back. His arms crossed as he slashed the iron weapons at Junior.

  Junior ducked out of the way to avoid being seared. He came back with a heavy blow to Adaro’s ribcage.

  Thick and muscular, both mermen relied on brute force instead of agility to win this fight. The current pulsed with the force of two colliding great whites.

  Their arms blurred, weapons pounding against each other. The dizzying speed and trailing bubbles left me blind to their movements.

  Then the hook grazed Junior’s arm, and the pain caused enough hesitation for Adaro to swipe again with the trident.

  Junior bellowed as the iron sliced his stomach.

  I cried out, dashing towards them. Spio’s hand closed on my arm. He pulled me back in time to dodge a desperate swipe from Ladon.

  In a fit of madness, I spun around and slashed at Ladon. Incomprehensible screams poured from my mouth. My blade sliced across his chest, his face, his throat.

  His eyes rolled back. He went limp, sinking slowly.

  My fingers gave out. I dropped my weapon. It drifted away in the current, and I let it.

  Someone spluttered beside me.

  Nobeard was slumped over, a hand pressed to his neck. Blood gushed between his fingers.

  Spio darted over.

  My chest constricted. He’d been fighting the merman who had given Spio and I the kelp buoys. What was his name?

  He coughed up a red-tinged bubble.

  “Anthias,” I said.

  He met my eye, projecting defeat. He brushed a hand over his lips to wipe away more blood. Mistrust and fear lingered heavily between us.

  I nodded towards the open water, indicating that he should go.

  He glanced to the king, locked in battle with Junior, and then to Spio, and back to me.

  I raised my weapon. I didn’t want to fight him, but I would if he got in the way of what needed to be done.

  He fled. I watched him angle downwards until he disappeared into the darkness below.

  An instant later, Junior screamed. Agony stabbed every cell in my body.

  I whirled to see the trident buried deep inside Junior’s stomach. With a grunt, Adaro gave it one more shove before pulling it free.

  I had a last, fleeting look at the kind face of Pontus’ younger brother. Then the life drained from his aura, and he slumped over.

  “No …” The sound hardly escaped my lips.

  “Hey, dude, you’ll be all right,” said Spio.

  His voice seemed to come from a distance.

  “Come on, I’ll take you—Nobeard? Hey, open your eyes. Let’s get you some air. Come on, buddy.”

  The hook fell from Nobeard’s grip. It sank fast, vanishing from sight.

  “You think iron can defeat me?” shouted Adaro. “The rightful king of the oceans is better than iron.”

  Spio slapped Nobeard in the face, trying to wake him up. Blood poured from his neck, more slowly now.

  Spio backed off, staring at his friend. Then he dropped his eyes to where the iron hook had disappeared. Without hesitating, he dove after it.

  “Spio!”

  We had no time for that. We had to go, or we’d be next.

  Before I could dive after him, Adaro lunged at me.

  I twisted away, propelling myself around his thick body.

  I wasn’t fast enough. A hand closed over my fin. I cried out as his fingers dug into the soft tissue.

  He dragged me backwards. I spun, swinging my fists, opening my jaws to bite him.

  Adaro seized me by the hair, and then his arm was around my neck, his bicep pressing against my throat.

  Rage prickled from his skin as he held me there. One massive fist gripped both trident and iron hook. He brought them up to my face, nearly touching me with the trident’s prongs.

  “Who else is a part of the plan?” he shouted.

  “No one,” I said through gritted teeth.

  I tried to shrink away from the iron’s sting.

  “Do not lie to me! Who are you working with?”

  Was that a whiff of fear in him? I cast around for Coho. He and Ephyra hovered behind us, motionless, as though hoping not to be noticed.

  Adaro brought the iron closer. The middle prong of the trident hovered a finger’s width from my eye.

  “Tell me where the rebels are,” said Adaro, “or I will give you a scar to match the one you already have.”

  I almost shouted that no one sent us and we were acting on our own, but I stopped myself. What would he do if he realised I had no information to give him?

  At my silence, he gave a cold, deep laugh.

  “Do you fear I will deal with them as I have dealt with everyone else? Pity, after all this, you find yourself alone once again. I wonder if it is your destiny to be alone, Lysithea.”

  I clenched my jaw, unable to move, watching the tip of the iron trident.

  “Are you so arrogant that you thought you could change the entire Pacific Kingdom?” said Adaro. “Did you think you belonged to something bigger? You and your friends, destined to overthrow the rightful king of the oceans …”

  “You are not the rightful king,” I said, but my words came out too weak, too broken.

  Had all of this been for nothing? Pontus, Junior, and Nobeard were dead. Coho had chosen his side. I’d spent a short time believing I belonged somewhere. That dream was never fated to survive.

  The next beat of Adaro’s pulse hammered against my flesh, and his muscles tightened, and I knew he was about to close the gap between the iron and my face.

  “Wait!” I said. “Remember your deal. You can’t harm me.”

  Adaro barked out a laugh. “All your allies are dead and still you beg to live.”

  I snarled. That wasn’t true. I still had Spio, and my parents, and my brother, and Meela.

  I clung to that.

  Meela and I could spend years and leagues apart, but the Massacre had proven that no matter what, I still had her. And her determination to take down Adaro matched mine.

  “She won’t give you the Host if I’m dead,” I said.

  “Your efforts have been a waste, Lysithea. You cannot save her. Once she frees the Host, it will make no difference whether you are alive or dead.”

  Something in his aura sent a shudder through me. What did he mean, you cannot save her?

  “I might have failed to mention it, but you must understand. That human of yours would never have agreed if she knew—”

  “Shut up! You’ve got nothing—”

  “Freeing the Host requires blood,” he said, voice rising over mine. “A human of Eriana Kwai must sacrifice herself.”

  A terrible silence passed between us. My heart pounded so hard, he must have felt it.

  “You’re lying.”

  “Your human will be dead,” he said deliberately. “Tell me, do you really think I am lying as I say this?”

  His pulse beat against my skin, steady and even.

  The blood drained from my face, leaving me dizzy.

  “She won’t do it,” I said. “You’re wrong.”

  Would Meela know this? Did he withhold it from her so she would follow through?

  In a flash, something rose beside us.

  “Well, Your Majesty, no one can say you didn’t rule with an iron fist.”

  Adaro hissed as Spio dove over our heads with the iron hook.

  The impact of Spio’s swing jolted us forwards, but the iron didn’t draw the king’s blood.

  Adaro waved his weapons
haphazardly at Spio. I took the opportunity to jerk away from his grasp.

  I landed in Ephyra’s arms. She’d grabbed a rope from one of the fallen soldiers.

  Before I could push away, she pulled my wrists behind my back.

  I shrieked, pummelling her with my tail.

  “You two-faced—”

  “Hey! Stop!” said Coho, appearing at Ephyra’s side.

  He tried to restrain me, but I kept thrashing, fighting him and Ephyra with everything I had.

  “Cowards!” I said.

  They were supposed to be on our side. If they cooperated, we might be able to finish Adaro off.

  I tried to bite Ephyra. My teeth snapped where her ear had been.

  Something knocked me in the jaw. I grunted, blinking away the spots in my vision.

  Coho unclenched his fist, eyes wide.

  “I said, stop.”

  Ephyra finished binding my wrists and tail, leaving hardly enough slack for me to float properly.

  Still, I twisted against the ropes like a catfish on the end of a line.

  Spio fought hard, but Adaro’s flying weapons forced him to retreat. The king slashed with both hands, pushing Spio towards the surface, where he would be cornered.

  “Spio, get away from here,” I shouted. “I’ll be fine.”

  Adaro stabbed the trident. Spio barely dodged it in time. He spun around and raised the hook.

  “Spio,” I shouted. “Go!”

  Spio hesitated. He glanced to Coho.

  Adaro swung the trident. Spio darted away from the prongs.

  “I’ll find the others, Lysi!”

  With a final glance at me, he shot backwards, leaving a trail of bubbles.

  For a moment, I wondered who these ‘others’ were—until Adaro shouted, “Follow him!” and rounded on Coho and Ephyra.

  Spio was trying to draw Adaro after him.

  My chest constricted. “No!”

  Coho and Ephyra hesitated, both of them weak and bleeding from shark bites. Ephyra started forwards, but Adaro stopped her with a snarl of frustration. He held out the iron hook.

  “You have reached the end of your fight, Lysithea. Your human will soon be dead, and the Host mine.”

  I lunged at him, jerking against the ropes. I wanted to scream but fear swallowed my voice. What if he was right? I had to get to Meela. I had to stop her before she became a sacrifice.

  “What should I do with her, sir?” said Ephyra, taking the hook.

  “Find out where the rebels are. Use any means necessary. Then kill her.”

  He turned away and charged after Spio, spinning the iron trident in his fists.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eriana’s Crypt

  My tea had cooled long ago, but I was still clutching the mug as I watched rain slide down the window. I sat on the living room couch, listening to the downpour and the rhythm of the old clock on the wall.

  A lump the size of a stone had hardened in my throat. In a mere hour, we would join the rest of the island at the docks to watch the Massacre depart.

  I barely grasped the reality of it. Twenty girls from the training program were about to depart almost a year ahead of schedule. Most would die. Each would kill dozens, if not hundreds, of mermaids during her time at sea.

  I blinked a few times, focusing my eyes, and dropped my gaze to the bone dagger in my lap. I turned it over, pushing my thumb against the blade. Serpent head on one side, trees on the other.

  The floor creaked, and the couch sagged beside me. I looked up. My father replaced the mug in my hands with a fresh, steaming brew of pine needle tea.

  “What’s that you’ve got?”

  “Found it under the Enticer,” I said dispassionately.

  He picked it up, examining it with raised eyebrows. “The old ship?”

  I sipped my tea.

  “Interesting,” he said. “You don’t often come across these. You know what the trees and the hole are for?”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s like a map. See?” He held it eye level and pointed at the trees. “These should line up with landmarks.”

  “I thought there used to be a stone here, or a gem,” I said, poking my finger through the hole.

  “Nah. That hole is intentional. Looks to me like it’s the real point of interest.”

  “It’s a landmark?”

  “Look at the arrow pointing into it.”

  I took the dagger back. A tiny groove was beneath the hole, slightly off-centre.

  Was this the fissure in the earth? Did the groove mark the entrance to the leviathan’s resting place?

  Whether this bone dagger provided a landmark or not, I still didn’t know where to find these particular trees across the expanse of Eriana Kwai.

  My mother sat on my other side.

  “Well, isn’t that beautiful.”

  I let her take it from me.

  My father tapped his fingers on his mug. “I do wonder whether our island has more history than any of us is aware.”

  I raised my eyebrows, but he didn’t continue.

  I didn’t press. It felt too nice, sitting quietly between my parents, the three of us together.

  “Mama, Papa, I’m sorry I got mad—”

  My mother made a shushing noise. She wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

  “But I am sorry—”

  “Honey, there’s no need. I was wrong to push you into something you’re not ready for.”

  I leaned against her, breathing in the scent of mint and honey. I’d already forgiven her for that. I didn’t want an apology.

  “Not a day goes by where I don’t miss Nilus,” she said.

  “I know,” I said. “Me too.”

  She handed the dagger back. The three of us sat in silence.

  My father set his mug on the coffee table and stood.

  “Where are you going?” said my mother.

  He held up a finger to indicate we should wait a moment, and left the room.

  A minute later, he returned with his cloth-bound book.

  “I never got to show you this,” he said, sitting beside me. “It belonged to my mother. I don’t suppose you remember your grandma.”

  “A little,” I said, trying to lighten the truth that I didn’t remember her in the slightest.

  He opened the book towards the back.

  “She gave me this before she died. See this? Birth certificates for you and Nilus.”

  My face pulled into a slight smile as I scanned the fragile papers. The pages beyond them were untouched—wanting to be marked with more family history.

  “And here,” said my father, flipping back a page. “You never knew my older sister. She married an American and took off for the mainland. When I was sixteen, we got word that she died in a car accident.”

  I blinked at the death certificate. My father never discussed his sister. I’d all but forgotten she existed.

  He flipped back through more pages.

  “It’s mostly birth certificates, marriage records, names of siblings and cousins pencilled in where documents haven’t been found. But if you go further back, you can see a few interesting stories in our family tree. Here, for instance—my great-uncle had a pet moose. See that?”

  He showed me a black-and-white photo of a moose standing in a river, staring at the camera. I giggled.

  “And your great-great-grand … uh … whatever he is. This man. Executed at thirty-three. Gallows.”

  I gasped at the same moment my mother said, “Now, honestly, Kasai!”

  “He was hanged? For what?”

  My father pointed to the page where a news article had been taped. “Horse thievery.”

  “Tough punishment for stealing,” I said.

  “He lived in a time and place where this wasn’t tolerated,” said my father.

  I looked at him. “He wasn’t from here?”

  My father shook his head. “Saskatchewan.”

  There it was. Though it didn’t matter anymore, a
piece of me had still hoped I was a descendant of Eriana. It had become a source of pride without my knowing whether it was true. The idea was oddly magical, like I was a part of this island, right through to the blood in my veins.

  Disappointment must have shown on my face, because my father said, “Now, wait a moment. Just because he’s from the mainland …”

  He flipped to the front page.

  “Look here. The first record of the family tree on my mother’s side.”

  I took it from him.

  A picture was inked into the page in black and red. It was our national emblem, the sea lion, same as the one on the cover of Anyo’s book. The next page depicted a woman, a deer on her left, a wolf on her right, an eagle overhead, and a salmon beneath her feet.

  “The charmer of animals,” said my father.

  I tore my eyes from the page. “We are descendants. You and me. We come from Eriana.”

  “According to this book, yes. If you turn the page …”

  I did so, revealing a few lines of text in the old language.

  “Translated, it tells of our family being born from the land, always a part of it.”

  “A legend,” said my mother.

  But here was the proof. Eriana had been a real person, and I descended from her.

  I sat back, watching the pine needles float around my mug.

  If I had more time, could I find the Host? I could give one more shot at finding this serpent, maybe, while everyone was at the docks.

  But where would I start?

  I felt both my parents watching me and looked up.

  “You know, Metlaa Gaela,” said my father. “You’ve always been so stubborn. You kept telling us you’d given up, but I thought you’d keep hunting for the Host of Eriana in secret. I guess I was wrong.”

  I stared at him, not sure what he was getting at.

  “A part of me hoped you were onto something,” he said. “I’d be booted from my position on the committee if I admitted it, but I would rather end the Massacres, too.”

  “What?” I whispered. “You think—you believe—”

  My mother clapped a hand on my knee. “Meela, I see your imagination running away again. Your father’s only talking about a naive hope that there might be a better answer. Sea demons are dangerous business, and I don’t want you messing around with that man’s training program.”