Female Fantasy
“Well, well, well,” the false queen coos. Her voice is honey-coated granite, as if she has not yet spoken today. “What do we have here?”
I can hardly hear her over the vibration of the water all around us.
Through the churning sea, I see Ryke. He is on bended knee, his brow knitted, doubled over in pain. Straining with every muscle in his body to fight his way closer to me.
Talassa raises a powder-white brow. And Nix, the horrid creature who laughed at my suffering—who tortured me for hours, taking joy in it—flinches under the heat of his sister’s gaze. Pure stolen power radiates from her taloned fingertips.
“If I recall correctly, I gave you strict orders to grab the girl and do whatever it took to extract information about the rebellion from her without alerting the prince and his merry band of insurgents.” She bares her canines, as impossibly white as her hair. “Or am I mistaken?”
Nix gulps. “That is correct, sister,” he says quickly. “I mean, Your Majesty.”
Her red eyes narrow until they are mere droplets of blood leaking from sliced skin.
“Then why have I intruded upon what appears to be a heartwarming scene of reunited lovers?” she snaps. “Why is the girl the picture of health? Did your villain monologue really last long enough for the two to reconcile?”
Behind her, someone snickers. Naia emerges from the darkness, her nose curled. She sneers at her twin brother.
“Did you, at the very least, obtain the intelligence we were after?” Talassa asks.
Nix grits his teeth. “No, Your Majesty.”
In an instant, a collar of bubbling water chokes the next breath out of him.
“Then what exactly are you good for?” Talassa barks.
Naia claps her hands, delighted.
“It is not what you think.” Nix struggles to speak through her chokehold.
“The girl and the prince—they are interloched! I could not take her without alerting him. They are drawn to each other like plankton to the light. Prince Ryke is able to draw life force from her without killing her or putting his own health at risk.”
“And why should I give a flapping fin about that?” The queen’s dark cheeks burn scarlet to match her eyes. “Do you think you are smarter than me? One step ahead?”
She spits in Nix’s face, the moisture turning into a searing concoction that stings his eyes. He cries out, blinded.
“You fool!” she shouts. “Everyone in this ocean with eyes could see that the two were interloched at the Ball of Sinking Stars. They were glowing as bright as the moon! My pupils practically burned.” Talassa shakes her head in dismay.
“Although the power bit is…interesting. Curious. I suppose it makes sense that lochs would be able to recharge one another’s life force.
After all, they are rumored to share one soul. ”
She looks into the distance, thoughtful.
I steal a glance at Ryke.
My loch.
The other half of my soul.
His eyes are shut tightly, as if he is focusing entirely on maintaining consciousness.
“There is more,” Nix says as the iron grip on his throat finally loosens. “The girl has powers.”
The false queen’s gaze locks onto mine. “Powers?” She inches closer to me, sniffing me. Inspecting my energy. “Is that so?”
I wince as she pulls a lock of my hair from my head.
Nix nods emphatically. “I saw her command an entire battalion of angry dolphins. They bowed to her, were loyal to her. Not the prince. It was…peculiar.”
The dorsal fin hidden in my hand beats as if it has a pulse. I clench my fist around it in an attempt to conceal it, a move that is not lost on the false queen.
“And what is this?”
She pries my hand open. And when she sees the fin upon my palm, her face drains of color.
“But that is impossible,” she sputters. “That fin is part of the treasure trove. But the chest has been locked up in my palace for centuries. It refused to open for me…”
She shakes her head again and again, an attempt to knock the notions out of her mind and onto the floor of the ocean.
“You.” She points at me. “You were the one to sound the stolen conch of Amphitrite, the missing item from my treasure trove. Not the crown prince of Atlantia. But you are a mere mortal. That should not have been possible.”
She taps her talons on her chin, lost in thought.
“Unless, of course, you were able to access the rest of the trove, including the Trident of the Gods. That would have given you command of the oceans. The ability to, say, detonate my soldiers with a mere thought.”
Ryke lets out a muffled cry.
He is inching toward me.
And in his unblinking eyes, I see true fear.
“How can a human command the treasure trove when it will not bow to me?” she asks her siblings. “Merriah, your kind has not even entered our waters for millennia. How have you gained such strength? The power you call upon belongs to an immortal. Not just siren or mer. But that of a god.”
She hums under her breath, a seductive siren song.
Then her fangs drag over her lower lip before her mouth falls open.
I know the moment she stumbles upon the truth.
Her voice cuts like a blade. “Of course. A descendant of Amphitrite.”
For the first time since arriving in the cavern, the false queen of Talassa looks truly shocked. “I should have seen it before,” she murmurs. “You were foretold.”
Ryke pulls himself an inch closer, using only his elbows and the tip of his tail.
“Amphitrite’s heir, the loch of the prince of Atlantia.” Talassa laughs in disbelief. “The Fates have quite a sense of humor. Of course, this makes you an invaluable weapon in the war to come.”
I imagine what it would mean to be a tool in the arsenal of the sirens.
A weapon to be wielded by the false queen in battle.
My stomach churns.
“Let her go, Talassa,” Ryke growls, nearly below us now.
“An object this powerful?” the false queen cackles. “Now, why would I do that?”
“Because if you do, I will hand myself over to you. Grant Merriah her freedom and take me as your prisoner. You can hurt me all you like. Torture me for information or sport as you wish. Or you can kill me and end this war, the rebellion, here and now. Take my life, but give Merriah back her own.”
All the blood rushes from my head to my heart.
No, only half of my heart. Because the other half is offering his wrists to the siren queen so she can shackle them.
“No!” I scream. “Ryke, if you feel any love for me, I beg of you, do not do this.”
For he means to sacrifice himself to free me.
Does he not know that a world without him is just another prison?
“Minnow,” he says quietly. “It is because I love you that I must.”
The false queen swishes her tail back and forth as she considers his proposal. Tears fall from my eyes, evaporating the second they hit the air in my bubble due to the heat of Talassa’s anger.
“It is an interesting proposition,” she says. “But one question remains.”
“Ask me anything,” Ryke pleads, desperation dripping from his voice. I yearn for the days he taunted me with that signature phrase of his: So many questions. “I will tell you whatever you want to know.”
The corner of the false queen’s lips curls upward.
“Why would I torture you when we both know the very best way to hurt you is by hurting your loch?”
Naia creeps toward me, her white hair blowing behind her in a phantom wind.
“Do you really believe,” Talassa continues, “that I would allow your power source, a weapon that could kill me if it were to fall into the wrong hands, to live even a moment longer?”
With one strong slap of her tail, my air bubble pops.
Distantly, I hear the faint music of Ryke’s screams.
As Naia grabs my shoulders.
And cracks my spine.