Chapter 14 #7
Yemi blinked at the entire scene as Lirik chewed, mostly the murky cloud of viscera sinking into the pool for the departed’s compatriots to peck at.
“I’m sorry, did you prefer the tail?”
“Ugh,” Yemi groaned, a hand pressed to her growling stomach. She promised herself she would never again forgo one of her chef’s prepared feasts to live on apples and ennui instead.
“Or… do you prefer to hunt?”
Yemi’s stomach clenched desperately in its own version of an emphatic yes. “Not when I can avoid it,” she said instead, wincing.
Lirik laughed. “Then we will go back to the palace and have something prepared in the kitchen.”
“Is there any truth to the old stories? That if you eat Mer food, you’re bound to the sea?”
“Why in the world would we want that?”
Yemi laughed. “I don’t actually know. Men are prone to inventing their own terrors, I suppose.”
“Aren’t you one of them?” Lirik’s nose scrunched.
“If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I’m the last surviving member of my kind. Whatever that is.”
Yemi replaced the items she’d nosed through as if not wanting her grandmother’s ghost to know anything had been disturbed. She did take a small brown woven satchel and slung it across her body in case her trip home was doomed to more kelp and misery.
“What’s next for you?” Lirik asked as she led Yemi back out.
The narrow passage was darkened now. The day had ended while they talked about their worlds.
The palace itself was moonwashed and dimly lit inside, and was surrounded by blinking green lights, as if the underwater world had its own enchanted fireflies.
“Home, or as close as I can get to it. I need to reconfigure a pla—”
“What if I came with you?” Lirik stopped and turned to her with an eager expression.
Yemi stammered, “As—for—why?”
“It’s a dead end here. You see it. There’s no future for me. And you seem like you can use some fresh eyes, a wide-eyed unremarkable to remind you of the beauty of things you’re overlooking topside. Someone who understands you. I do.”
Yemi’s heart fell. Lirik was a lovely presence, and she’d been grateful for her friendship, but…
“Lirik. If I’ve given you the wrong… impression, I apologize,” she said with as much kindness as she could. “I have a partner. Ennova. She’s waiting—”
Lirik moved closer and became cloaked in shadow. She took Yemi firmly by her free hand. “I think you need me,” she whispered. “You could use a siren. Someone to bend the traitors to your will. Doesn’t have to be as a lover. As a friend. A sssister…”
Sister snaked into Yemi’s head, and the words began to bleed together.
The world fell away, and the only light remaining was reflected in Lirik’s eyes.
Yemi’s eyelids grew heavy. She found herself considering the offer, keenly aware of the heat of Lirik’s grip on her arm, the visible softness and growing closeness of her lips.
No one else had called her brilliant, had they? And a siren as a lure would make the purging of the city much cleaner.
Much less bloodshed…
“No—” she heard herself say. The last syllable of Nova’s name choked in her throat. She didn’t recall thinking it, but it was on her lips just the same.
Lirik’s grip lingered and the words still slurred, but Yemi was now present enough to turn on her spear. The intensity of the light forced Lirik to back away. In an instant, the world returned, and Yemi found herself furious and in a striking position as Lirik drifted backward, stunned.
“You serpent,” Yemi growled, still shaking the whispers from her ears.
“Please! I only meant to show you—” Lirik insisted.
“Liar!” Yemi barked.
“Lirik!” Minevra’s voice sounded from the palace below. “ ‘Not a moment past moonrise,’ ” she snapped.
Yemi froze. Any sudden movements, and Minevra was likely to bring what existed of the palace guard down on her head. A worried Lirik looked from Yemi to her mother and back before Yemi flicked the spear off again.
Lirik’s shoulders relaxed, though it was hard to tell if it was in relief or disappointment. “You have the night,” she said quietly. “Think about it.”
Yemi followed her with her eyes down to where Minevra floated testily in front of an entrance. The old woman glowered back up at her until Lirik passed and disappeared inside.
It was possible Lirik was being honest. It was clear that Minevra had all but shackled her to this city. But there was no amount of headfuckery that Yemi could tolerate as innocent.
“Your quarters have been prepared,” Minevra said, biting each syllable.
Yemi took a deep breath and descended. Minevra placed herself in front of the entrance and eyed Yemi’s spear until she handed it over to Horus again. When she moved, it was grudgingly, but she escorted Yemi back up the hallway. Lirik was gone.
“I need to speak with the queen again,” Yemi insisted.
“That isn’t possible.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Minevra spun on her with a measured tone but an intense tightness about her face.
“I want to make two things very clear to you, Yemaya of the Land. The first is that you are not welcome here. You have no rights, no privileges, no power within these walls. You remain by the grace of Her Majesty. The second is that I run this city. And if you come near my daughter again, that grace will not be enough to protect you. Are we immaculately clear?”
Yemi bit her tongue to keep from smiling as she stared Minevra down. What was the ancient steward of a dead city to a queen with a penchant for violence? She envisioned at least a half-dozen ways Horus could be relieved of the use of his hands and teeth as he loomed over her.
It would have been satisfying, but not smart. And if she wasn’t leaving with an army at her back, she was at least going to leave with answers. Helene had them.
“Authority.” Yemi grinned, just not with her eyes. “I have no authority here. I think we both know I have power.”
Minevra said nothing, but her lips pressed together even tighter.
“Now we’re clear,” Yemi added.
Minevra signaled to Horus that they were moving again and turned to lead.
The guards in the halls kept their watchful gaze over Yemi as she passed.
Lirik was still nowhere to be seen. Undoubtedly she’d divulged information her mother would have insisted stay private.
Yemi felt she owed it to her to throw Minevra off the scent.
“You know,” she said pleasantly, well aware of the irritation she was causing. “In Ixia, when we host our royal friends, we feast, we tour the grounds, and we put on an exhibition of our country’s greatest warriors in a series of games.”
“Charming,” Minevra deadpanned.
“I hope so. Now that I’ve toured the grounds, I can’t help but notice what’s missing.
I imagine your military might is something you’d normally hide.
I am, after all, an unknown entity. You could understandably question my motives in wanting to see what Abyssa is capable of in terms of combat.
But I wonder if that’s truly it, or if the matter is much simpler. ”
They came to a door at the end of a hall, and Minevra moved aside to let her in, saying nothing, but her eyes had darkened to storm clouds.
Her hands remained clasped and tense in front of her.
A single twitch in the right direction, and Yemi knew the might of the palace guard would descend on her. She went on anyway.
“Now, the queen refused me her aid. Forgive me if this is insulting, but could it be that there are no military assets to begin with?”
“Assume what you’d like,” Minevra snapped.
“I will.” Yemi smiled politely. “Her Majesty could’ve dismissed me on perfectly valid grounds of not possessing an army.
Instead, she refused me out of pride. She wanted me to believe she had a choice in the matter, when in reality, she does not.
Which makes me think that the exodus Abyssa has suffered included Her Majesty’s military, making this the last Mer territory I should have visited. ”
“The monarchy has been split among the world’s seas, yes, settled in places not as easily hidden as we are here,” Minevra explained, not that she felt she needed to, judging by her tone.
“Her Majesty gave her siblings the protection she could provide, knowing that if they ever needed to be called back to defend this place, they would return in force to fight for it.”
“Are you sure about that?” Yemi replied coyly. There was no way someone as easily threatened as Queen Helene would simply bequeath her entire military to disparate ends of the world. They’d abandoned her to rot along with the city.
Minevra was not amused and simply hovered wordlessly in the doorway as Yemi examined the stateliness of her room.
All but one wall of the hexagonal room was decorated in mosaics, not unlike the hallways of her own home.
Yemi wondered idly about which civilization had done it first, some man “blessed” by Ursla to bring the culture here, or the Mer themselves whispering art into sailors’ ears.
A garden hung from the ceiling, and small luminous fish darted between the fronds and vines.
The far wall functioned as a window, a thick sheet of bleached blue coral perforated with a million diamond-shaped holes the width of a finger overlooking the eastern side of the city.
Minevra dipped her head in a gesture of departure and waning respect before turning to leave. “Do speak up before you intend to leave. We will have someone escort you to the city’s exit to make sure you don’t lose your way.”