4. Delphine
Our welcomein the Sea Court was far different without Tethys present.
The raucous return of their prince was contrasted with a heavy gloom now that he was gone—gone were the far-off sounds of music and laughter, replaced now with the solemn drip of water. What little sightings of the gold-flecked fae we got now were marred by downturned faces and eyes that shifted towards us only to narrow.
We’d barely stepped onto the beach before we were greeted by the Sea Court envoy. It was a welcome sight, at first, knowing there’d be no time wasted trying to get the court’s attention. Every moment we wasted now was more precious than ever. We needed a way to the human realm, to Alderia, and we needed it now.
I knew Tethys was bound to the god of the sea, but part of me had expected to see him still, waiting there on that beach to greet us. I knew not the rules and regulations of his work with the old god, and knew less still of the gods themselves. I doubted very much, however, that they were the type to care who ruled the faerie realms, or what men and fae might do in their insignificant squabbles amongst one another. Insignificant to them, but everything to us.
Still, as we approached the regent now sitting on the throne, his form so familiar there was no doubting he was the blood brother of the fae now lost to the depths of the sea itself, I felt the smallest glimmer of hope. Perhaps it was simply seeing the slightly hooked slope of his nose, the deep rich color of his skin, or the way the intricate patterns of his braids glittered with gold, but I saw Tethys in the fae that sat before us, and I couldn’t help it.
A small part of me knew this might be a waste of time, the most precious resource that we had, but it was also all we had.
Tethys had called on the god of the sea, and he had lost. But because of that, we had a chance to win.
“Nereus!”
No sooner had we caught sight of that fae seated on his brother’s throne, then he stood to greet us, his face forcing a smile through the solemn expression that had twisted it down. Nereus strode towards us, eyes fixed on Armene, who he embraced like the very brother he had lost.
“Armene.”
For a second, Nereus buried his face in the Sand Prince’s shoulder, his own slumping slightly as the arms embracing him tightened. They shared no words, only sorrow, the same sadness that hung as heavy as the salt in the air. If left long enough, it would crystallize, coating every surface, until it was encased forever in the ache this court felt at the loss of its prince.
When the two finally broke apart, some of the weight seemed to have shifted, the pain now shared.
Nereus turned to greet Caldamir next with a nod of respect, but when he turned to Nyx, something curled up at the outer corner of his mouth.
“What’s this one doing here?”
Caldamir, much to my surprise, was the one to jump to the Woodland Prince’s defense.
“We need everyone, Nereus. Even him, for what we’re about to do.”
“And you.”
The moment Nereus saw me, something shifted in him. It was deeper than the pain and sorrow, a flicker of some fire within.
“You. Delphine.” His voice had softened. “I know you.”
Before I knew what was happening, Nereus had closed the gap between us. I saw the momentary flinch as the other fae, as Armene, Nyx, and Caldamir, realized a moment before I did what he was about to do. But they didn’t move to stop him.
Nereus took hold of me, pulled me close, and kissed me.
Deeply.
I stood frozen to the spot, so in shock that I didn’t fully understand what was happening until he broke away. His hands still held me tight, gripping my upper arms as if he worried that I’d fall into a million pieces if he dared let go. More shocking still was that none of the fae princes moved to defend me.
“My brother loves you,” Nereus said, in a voice so like Tethys’ that I could almost believe he was the same fae looking down at me from a face with only slightly different features. “And for that, I love you too.”
That, at last, was too much for the other fae to stand in silence. Armene cleared his throat, one hand on Caldamir’s arm which was once more moving towards his sword, an action that was likely to ignite a second war if it made it but a few inches closer.
Nereus let me go at last, but I felt the void of his touch as keenly as if it had belonged to the brother that should have stood in his place. Something deep and sharp ran through me, cutting between bone and sinew until it lodged itself first in the back of my throat, and then in my fluttering heart.
“High king or not, I know your pain,” he whispered. “We mourn the loss of our brother.”
“High king?”
Caldamir’s voice drew all eyes to him. He no longer reached for his sword, but the sharp look in his eyes was more calculating than ever.
“Word travels fast now that the glamour is back in full force,” Nereus responded, stepping away from me at last. The three other fae princes watched him with increasing wariness as he passed between them on his way back to the throne of gold and sea glass that glittered darkly before us. Upon reaching the throne, he turned to face us, pausing for just a second before lowering himself onto it.
“Tethys was meant to sit on this throne at times like these. Four princes of Avarath, united. Though, I suppose now we have only three.”
His eyes flickered to Nyx, and I felt something in me sink. “And soon, there will only be two.”
Word travels fast now that the glamour is back.
Too fast.
Something soured within me, Nereus’ words leaving an unsettled pit in my stomach as he fixed his gaze on Caldamir. “I know not what magic lets you stand before me, Prince of the Mountain Court, but I was here for the last war. I know what power Mordrigal has over you, though you seem to have forgotten it. Four princes have already dwindled down to two, and soon, however much you may refuse to admit it, there will only be one to stand against him.”
“What are you saying, Nereus?” Armene asked. There was a sound in his voice that I’d never heard before. I knew, too late, what it was.
Something had grown sour on Nereus’ face, too.
“Forgive me, my brothers, for what must be done. War is on our threshold, and I know better than any the pain of the loss sure to come if we leave the fate of our realm to one such as her.”
His eyes alit on me, next, and that love in them still remained. The love he held for his brother, with his brother, burning with all the intensity I had seen in Tethys’ eyes the last time we were together. That made what he did next all the worse, because rising to overtake that love was a determination that turned like a blade in my heart until it screamed with pain.
I heard the sound of dripping too late.
Behind us, a door had opened. Moments before, it had been the hallways leading us into this very throne room. Now, it led somewhere else entirely.
A great cavern lay gaping just beyond, the distant walls so dark it was difficult to make out if they were rock walls at all, or simply the endless expanse of a dark void. The floor only extended a few paces in before disappearing sharply into a great pit. For a long second, nothing but that ever-steady drip of water broke the echoing silence.
“My brother and I, we are entwined,” Nereus said, “be we are not the same. He made a mistake, choosing her. He was blinded by his feelings. I will not make the same mistake. He may have been blind, but I am not.”
No sooner had Nereus spoken than I heard the change. From somewhere deep within the pit came a gurgling, bubbling sound. Water sloshed against the rocky sides as something far below disturbed its surface. That sound grew louder and louder, echoing through the cavern and spilling out to us as first the water rose, until I could see the glimmer of its swirling surface, and then something rose from it.
At first, it was just a ripple, a disruption on the surface of the already roiling water. But then it grew, taking shape as it rose higher and higher, a great shadow in the darkness.
The sound in Armene’s voice had been fear, and he had been right.
We should have been afraid.
Because Nereus had betrayed us.
However, no sooner was I sure that we were about to face a fiend, one far greater than those I’d once battled in the canyons alongside Armene, then that shadow shrunk and formed instead a shape I was far more familiar with.
Nereus had tried to betray us, and he would have, if his brother was not the one to rise from the sea in place of the monster he had meant to summon.
For it was Tethys who strode into the throne room, and on his face he wore all the fury that only a fae with the backing of a god could possess.