Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The great golden doors close behind us, and immediately the noise of a hundred people stops and silence falls.
Sigurd turns to Marin. “You made an oath to me, Marin,” he hisses.
My eyes widen. For the first time since meeting Sigurd, he looks angry.
Marin grimaces. “I am so sorry, my friend.”
“As am I that Cary and I have somehow become pawns in the war between your mother and father.”
“I guaranteed your safety.”
“You cannot possibly do that where we are going, Marin.”
Sigurd shakes his head and steps off the path.
I open my mouth to scream out a warning, but then stand gaping in shock.
Nothing has happened to him—no lungs rupturing, no dramatic ascent to the surface.
He stands as solidly as he does on land and just as rooted.
He stays there for a second, his hands on his hips, staring out of a big window.
It looks out on a huge, shipwrecked boat, the hull sticking up like a monster’s ribs.
“I did Morveren this favour out of a desire to help,” he finally says coldly. “I have to say that if this is how the Mer are conducting their business now, then I will no longer be positioning myself to aid you in the future.”
Marin sighs and runs his hand through his hair. The dark strands drift like seaweed. “You have my sincere apologies, my friend. Things are strained at court at the moment, but I had no idea it would go that way.”
Sigurd turns around and stares at his friend. “If there are choices to be made between Cary and the Mer, you well know mine.”
Marin puts his hand on Sigurd’s arm. “I do, and I honour your choice.” He takes a deep breath. “And I would make the same choice.”
Sigurd gasps. “What?”
The Mer prince nods steadily. “I will honour your choice and stand beside you both.” He checks behind him for any eavesdroppers and seeing none, he continues quietly, “My loyalty in this situation is to you and not my father.”
Sigurd’s face is warm once more and full of concern. “But—”
Marin pats Sigurd’s hand. “Now you know.” His sad smile looks wrong on his merry face. “We are being very rude in front of Cary. My apologies.”
“There’s no need to apologise,” I say at once. “I’m fine here if you want to carry on talking.”
He shakes his head. “No, we must not tarry. My grandmother will be expecting us.”
“Did they send word we’re supposed to meet her already?” I ask as he moves away.
He looks back with a crooked smile. “Nay, she already knows. She knows everything.”
He disappears down the path, and I look at Sigurd. “Well, that wasn’t even remotely comforting.”
He sighs and steps next to me, drawing me into his arms. “I wish I had not brought you into this, Cary.” He looks in the direction from where we entered the castle. “I think I will take you home. These are not matters for you to be drawn into. The situation is too dangerous.”
“No,” I say, and it’s immediate and fierce. “I stand by your side.”
“Pardon?” he whispers.
I scratch my head. That statement had come out without any forethought whatsoever—just an immediate, atavistic reaction. And no matter how I examine it, it’s the truth. I do stand by his side.
“I meant it,” I say steadily. “You’re not going into whatever this is without me.”
“May I remind you that I am a dragon?”
“A dragon currently in someone else’s kingdom that isn’t his natural habitat.” I shake my head. “No, I’ll stay here with you.”
“I cannot guarantee your safety,” he blurts, as agitated as I’ve ever seen him. I realise with a sudden shock that he’s scared. “The previous trips I’ve taken you on were light looks into the magic world. I wanted to show you the merry, warm side of it. Not the…”
“The dark?” I finish.
He hesitates and then nods. “Yes, the dark.” He pulls me close, whispering hurriedly into my ear.
“I cannot protect you the way I do on land. The court here is riven, and the king and queen are at odds. Courtiers are positioning themselves, and women are being thrown at the king because where his ardour lands, then riches will bloom.”
“Well, that’s a tale as old as time. Is that what Melusine’s parents are doing? Hoping that she can catch his eye?”
He thinks over the question. “Nay, they play another game with higher stakes. Arista does not think herself a mistress with a limited run of favour. She thinks of herself as…”
“A queen,” I breathe.
He hushes me instantly. “’Tis treason to even say those words out loud.” I look around, but we’re alone. He follows my gaze. “Walls have ears, Cary.”
I hesitate. “Are you saying that as a metaphor, or are there actually ears in the walls?” His mouth twitches, and I shove him as he snorts. “Oh, hilarious. Laugh away.”
He smiles and hugs me. I am very grateful for his warmth, as for the past hour, I’ve been feeling chilled through.
“I don’t think I’d like to live down here,” I whisper.
He nods and kisses my temple, nuzzling and inhaling my scent. “You are made for sunshine, Cary, just as I am made for high winds and storms. Down here the sun does not reach, and I have always felt that this accounts for the dispositions of the Mer.”
Marin appears again. “Are you coming? It does not do to keep her waiting. You know this, Sigurd.”
I offer Sigurd my resolute expression. Finally, he sighs and takes my hand in his. “We are ready.”
We follow after Marin at a distance. “How can you walk while not on the path?” I ask.
Sigurd’s golden eyes are bright in the gloom. “Ah, there are very few worlds that can contain me.”
“You are the master at answering a question with flannel,” I inform him, smiling at his laughter. “So why walk on the path if you don’t need to?”
He directs an astonished look at me. “Why, because you are there, Cary,” he says, and it’s such a startled, honest reaction—as if the truth should be completely obvious.
I raise his hand and kiss his fingers, watching the way his eyes slide shut for a moment.
Then I pull back and we continue down the endless maze of corridors.
“So, we’re about to meet the Kraken?” I ask.
“Yes, but only the world of myths and legends names her so. Down here, she is the Lady of the Deep.”
“Right now, I’m remembering all the old films I saw where a huge scaly leviathan appeared out of the waves, usually carrying a virgin off to its lair.”
Marin draws nearer and snorts. “It would be hard to find one of those here. Especially around my father.” I laugh, and he grins at me. “If you had a lifetime to speculate, you still could not anticipate her.”
“Why did your mother send us to her?” I ask tentatively.
Sigurd’s arm tightens on my shoulders.
Marin just gives me a small smile. “My mother never operates on one level, Cary. In this instance I believe she wanted to protect you both.”
“How would this help?”
“You were attracting too much attention. Down here, Arista’s power grows as her influence over my father intensifies. Arista’s daughter’s disappearance is being used as leverage. She is testing her powers by demanding more from the king than any, save my mother, ever dare.”
“And Arista’s husband?”
“His only concern is the wealth of their family. Arista could fuck a million Mer, and he would just look to his coffers.” His young voice drips with disgust.
“Is he not worried about his daughter?”
He shrugs. “Melusine is a pawn to Delmar, and his family have never been friends of the humans. If a thousand humans were to die in a freak tidal wave, the event would only exist for Arista to prove that her influence is strong.”
“Would your father…?”
“Cast aside my mother?”
I nod.
“Nay, there is no danger of that. They are as fascinated by each other as they ever were. There is a pull between them that is as strong as the tide and just as inevitable. Besides, he may be king, but she still has power derived from my grandmother. If my grandmother had the idea to crush him, she could, and my mother likes to taunt him with that knowledge. He is prone to fancies that are like summer storms—intense, but always short in duration. My mother knows this and tolerates it because she has her own companions, but woe betide anyone who steps near her throne. She will not countenance that. As such, throwing you and Sigurd at my grandmother fulfils another function for her.” He watches me steadily.
“She has thrown a lightning bolt into the air on a whim to see what happens. If you succeed in finding Melusine and happen to humiliate Arista in the process, my mother will be content. If not, there is no harm done.”
I marvel at the fact that, with parents such as his, he’s obviously a warm man concerned with other people’s safety, but I don’t say this out loud. I just nod.
Sigurd stirs. “Have a care of Arista, though, Marin. She is more dangerous than you know. Dismissing her would be a foolish move.”
Marin waves a casual hand, but I can’t help but think that Sigurd is right. I got the impression of cold depths in Arista.
We’ve been moving steadily downward as we talk, and the corridors are gloomy. The walls are made of dark grey stone, and the few lights available glow a sickly green. Marin comes to a wooden door. He looks at Sigurd and me. “Are you ready?”
Nerves wash over me, but Sigurd draws me closer, his warmth steadying. I look at him gratefully, and he drops a kiss on my nose. “Are you ready? We will not move until you are.”
I draw myself up. “I’m ready,” I say firmly. My reward is his look of pride.
Marin taps, and the door swings open. I look for the guards who seem to operate the doors, but there’s no one there. “Well, this isn’t creepy at all,” I whisper, and Sigurd snorts.
We move into the room, and I’m startled when I look down at my feet. We’re standing on a stone-flagged floor. “Oh my god, where’s the path?” I grab Sigurd’s arm. “There’s no path.”
“Peace,” he says, his fingers cool on my skin. “We need no path here.”
“Why?”
“Because I control the paths,” a voice says from nearby. “It is my will that keeps you here, little human.”