Chapter 51 #2
The currents returned, faster and stronger, stirring up broken ship parts from the seafloor. They moved around him, dancing in an aquatic symphony, and the sea rose.
Higher, higher, higher it moved, the wave taking the humans with it as the mer darted back undersea with Kaden. It built into a midsized tsunami, and yet Sanyue’s power coursed in Kaden still, demanding more.
No, if the wave grew any bigger, it would destroy the docks.
He hesitated, and the wave stilled at his unspoken command. Another bloom of heat emerged from the tip of his tail, quickly spreading to the top of his head.
The burning magic stirred in him. Thrumming, fiery, insistent.
He knew when Sanyue gave Her blessing, She demanded it to be used to its fullest extent, or She would burn the reigning monarch from the inside. And not even the sea could save them.
The pain. The pain was too much.
Release your power. Or die holding it in. His mother had once said this about Sanyue’s gift, and it rang deafening in Kaden’s head.
The late queen had directed a seawater funnel once with her tail, and Kaden followed suit.
He inverted, and the wave moved with the motion of his tail.
The wave swelled and grew, and beside him, Varin’s skin glowed, and he followed Kaden in inverting.
The seas shuddered and quaked, and sentinels and sentries took refuge at the seafloor.
There was an empty landmass beside the docks, and he directed the wave there.
He swept his tail with Varin, guiding the wave with the humans to the empty landmass, and the humans were gone.
“Keep them there. Make sure they don’t come back in.” Narea shouted her order, and in Kaden’s periphery, sentinels followed her command.
The last of his energy expended, Kaden crumpled where he floated like a boneless haizhe as his muscles gave out. Sentinels around him hooked their arms underneath his, dragging him back to the palace.
Even though he couldn’t move, he could still see clearly.
He saw the palace, partly decimated. The animals who had fought with them and joined the fight were still alive and healthy, and other animals skittered across the outside, fighting and nibbling at the dead mer and humans.
He couldn’t see the bodies, thankfully, but the number of predators in the vicinity told him it had to be hundreds of corpses.
They were so close to the palace, and Varin’s iridescent tail flashed his peripheral vision. “My boy. You did it. They’re gone. They’re–”
A long spear struck Varin’s back, and he stopped. Blood burst from his chest, covering the spear tip.
“King Varin!” The sentinels defending Kaden swarmed Varin, rushing for the rogue group of humans that came into view, and before they could shoot again, the sentinels struck the three humans, killing them instantly.
“Varin!” Kaden reached for his uncle, his jaw dropping open.
No, no, no. Not Varin. The currents intensified, taking him from Kaden, and he chased his uncle, grabbing his tail and wrapping his arms around him. More blood flooded from his wound. His uncle was fading.
“Kaden,” Varin croaked. “You’ve made us proud.”
“No. Don’t go. You can’t leave me, leave Aunt Cassia and Calora.”
But Varin was gone, his limp body held horizontal by the sea. The sea, the giver and taker of life. His uncle’s home, and now, his coffin.
Kaden choked back a sob, his tears mingling and taken by seawater.
Shangjiangs and sentinels hovered at the palace entrance when Kaden returned with Varin still in his arms, far from the marine animals, cheering at their victory, and praise for their leaders.
As the sentinels moved Kaden past them, they also cheered for Varin, and for him.
His people cheered for him. They didn’t hate him, didn’t call him a traitor. They weren’t asking for Saeryn to be put back on the throne. They were no longer under attack; the humans beaten back.
He should feel triumphant, but an all-consuming wave of sadness and emptiness overcame him at the mer they’d lost, his uncle’s death.
Inside the palace, other sentinels were restraining human hostages, with Marron and Narea ordering them to the prisons.
“Your Majesty, would you like to return to your quarters to recover?” one sentinel asked him. “We will take the late king to the morgue, until we can contact Queen Cassia and ask if she’d like him to be buried here, or at Haiping.”
Kaden assumed his aunt would want him to return home, but they still needed to ask. “I will return to my quarters and get my seaflute.” Sorrow filled his heart like it was a spiny, puffy hetun.
“We’ll wait here,” the sentinel said, cradling Varin like he was a precious jewel. “And Your Majesty, your family is safe. We saw to it.”
“Thank you.” Kaden grabbed his seaflute from his quarters and returned to the sentinel, listlessly swiping Cassia’s Renyuhua name into it. Was she okay? Was she safe? “Aunt Cassia? Are you there? It’s Kaden.” A prayer to Sanyue for her reply.
He waited and tried again. And again.
Nothing but deafening silence.