Chapter 51
Kaid stirred on the sofa where he had fallen asleep, opening his eyes to faint light creeping in between the pillars. It should have been dawn by then, but the impending storm above had darkened the skies so much that it was impossible to tell exactly what time of day it was.
He felt the room shake before he heard the explosive boom from somewhere outside of the castle, followed by shouting. Asta sat straight up on the chaise she had been napping on, startled by the rumbling.
The door to the sitting room flung open and a siren scout shouted “Finfolk battalion approaching!” before rushing away.
Kaid grabbed his sword, feeling empty without the trident, but he knew that his mother was the better wielder for the time-being.
She needed to control their surroundings and had a plan, likely one she’d thought over for many years while she was searching for the lost trident.
Asta double-checked the latches on her satchel, holding a longsword and short sword, and swam through the door and into the havoc.
The front lines swam past the reef where they clashed with the finfolk, the sound of metal-on-metal slicing through the water and echoing off the castle walls behind them.
Since they were royalty, Kaid, Asta, and his parents waited on the balcony inside of the gates.
As badly as he wanted to dive into battle, he knew that they only fought in hand-to-hand if completely necessary.
Wretched morphling groupers weaved between the battle, taking out sirens as they went—most of the time swallowing them whole. There must have been a call for volunteers to make the morph—to give the finfolk the upperhand in brute force.
Kaid could hardly distinguish Soren’s shouts of instruction over the clamorous mob, telling the Naltanians to feed from the groupers in order to defeat them.
On the other hand, it seemed as though the rest of the sea was on the siren’s side.
Selkies charged through lines of finfolk, knocking them off balance and giving their siren opponents the advantage.
Sharks clamped onto enemy shoulders and fins.
Kaid’s stomach churned when he witnessed a dolphin playing with a finfolk’s decapitated head.
“They’re getting closer,” Asta whispered. “I love you, Kaidian.”
His full name. He hated how official it sounded; how final it sounded. He turned to her, kissing her deeply then gripping the nape of her neck. “Whatever happens today, Asta, we will have a happy ending. If we get separated, you make sure you come back to me, okay?”
“Okay,” his blonde princess nodded, the whites of her eyes reddened.
Arielle swung the trident around her, commanding all elements in the water.
The stagnant water funnels moved, quickly reaching the battle grounds and pulling hoards of finfolk to the surface.
If they went above water when it wasn’t their time to mate or birth, they would not survive.
The funnels were picking off entire troops at a time, but so many remained.
Strong currents started whipping past them, shoving the finfolk troops back. Although the currents were not depleting the number of enemy soldiers, they were at least giving the siren warriors enough time to collect themselves between attacks.
Asta shouted indistinguishable words and pointed ahead to something behind the front lines. Kaid narrowed his eyes, locking in on what Asta saw. Within the secondary line, three figures broke through and were emerging toward the battle—Maren, Svanhild, and Queen Yrsa herself.
The finfolk queen was accompanied by a swarm of wretched eels wrapping around her body and swimming between her arms and torso.
Each time she raised an arm, multiple siren soldiers quivered.
The sea witch was using the electric currents from the eels to amplify her static magic to stun their soldiers.
Once stunned, Maren and Svanhild sliced through the front lines with ease. They looked unphased as they cut down sirens and animals, no evidence of remorse for their life ending blows.
Asta grabbed Kaid’s hand, squeezing tightly before letting go and adjusting her grip on her blades. If the finfolk wanted a fight, they would get a fight. Kaid wished desperately that he had his trident, but his mother was so far from them now that he would have to use his blades.
The golden trident is yours. Yours to command, yours to control. Seize it, and end them all. Seize it, and show them what power truly means.
His siren itched to use the trident, which he knew was dangerous. He resisted, lifting his blade as his ex-fiancé came barreling toward them, her face twisted into a scowl.