Chapter 10
LAVENIA
We sank.
Into the deep. Into the dark. Into the quiet.
I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open despite the sting of the saltwater, and I struggled in Estri’s arms as a dark shade moved over my eyes. I knew immediately what it was. Same as the film which had gone down over Mairin’s eyes, this blackness was like a second eyelid. Grasping at my neck, I searched for the scratch from her fingertip, horrified over my imagination of what I would find.
Because I did not drown.
As we plummeted into the ocean depths, I didn’t yearn for air. My lungs moved, and my body did not die as the Sea Queen’s magick protected me. With a simple slice of a sharpened nail, she had cut into my flesh and changed my body. Carefully, I traced my finger over the frill of skin in my neck, suddenly remembering how delicate a fish’s gills were.
“I hope you do not find it too intolerable,” she said, Estri’s words coming to her easier than before. They shouldn’t have sounded so clear in the water, and yet I could understand her completely. Her magick had changed me into something unsettling. “Perhaps, if you find you enjoy it, I might give you fins.” She chuckled, and my stomach sloshed.
I shuddered in her grasp, and I wished to be anywhere else. Though mysterious—rarely seen and even more rarely heard—I had no qualms with the merrows. Well, not in general. One merrow in particular could drown, as far as I was concerned. But I had no desire to become one. But for Estri to have that kind of power? It was impossible. I decided it must have been a jest.
“Can you not see past your nose, Princess?” Irritated, the Sea Queen used the tip of a tentacle to tilt my head downward. ”The first landwalker I’ve allowed within my domain in an age, and you do not care for its splendor?”
When I tried to speak, to tell her I couldn’t see for shit, only bubbles drifted out of my open mouth. I’d expected to choke on the water, but relief filled me alongside disbelief when I didn’t. How was any of this possible?
Willing my eyes to focus, to make out more than dark shadows in the distant water, I found if I looked straight ahead, there was a certain transparency to the film which covered my eye. Though we had to be closer to the bottom of the sea than the surface, some sunlight must have filtered down. Or perhaps the Sea Queen’s wicked fingertip had done more than I imagined. Had she somehow improved my eyesight to be useful underwater? Using her tentacles to turn my body, she tilted me downward as we sank lower, and I finally realized what lay before me.
Twisting spirals of rock jutted from the ground, far more massive than anything I’d seen before. Some stood on underwater cliffs, some down in a deep trench, but most were scattered on the rocky ocean floor—more than I could fathom counting. There was no pattern to their placement, and I didn’t understand what they were until I saw the windows carved from them. They were huge, each one easily taller than the palace in Astana, if my depth perception were to be believed. Was she bringing me into the seafloor’s gaping maw? Or were the spires fingertips—reaching for the surface?
Blinking, I wished the film over my eyes was gone so I could see detail. Following the curve of the rock, there were tiny pinpricks of light—white, like Emma’s divine fire. Could Estri’s magick preserve that kind of fire under the weight of the sea?
It wasn’t nearly as quiet as I imagined, this far below. To my left, I heard an incessant clicking, and I strained my neck, trying to find its source. The deeper she brought us, approaching the tops of the reaching rock spires, the sounds grew louder. Popping and squeaking joined the clicking noises. I tried to turn in her grasp, but her tentacles only twisted tighter around me. One wrapped around my thigh and down my leg, another across my stomach and over my breast. I was completely exposed, save for where she held me, but I didn’t bother to cover myself.
Making the rest of the sounds seem negligible, a rasping groan made me jerk in the queen’s grasp. It was loud, and the noise trembled in my bones.
Estri made a disapproving sound, and when she sighed, a large bubble escaped her mouth. “Stalivir has gorged himself on that fall. He will make himself sick,” she murmured, and I had no idea what she meant. Quickly, she used her free tentacles to propel us down, veering to the left of the towering rock formations. Shooting past one and wending down between two others, she headed toward a deeper trench, spiraling in the water as she went. For the first time since I’d woken, I was glad my stomach was empty.
“Stalivir, go home,” she said, and I twisted in her grip to see who or what she spoke to, but it did me no good as she wrapped me up even tighter. Her face was all I could see. There were none of those glowing spots of white, but I could see the Sea Queen clearly. It was almost as if her skin glowed. It reminded me of the sand dollars Rainier used to collect for Emma. Delicate but rough. Sharpened angles and hollowed cheeks carved her face, and I could only stare. I’d seen nothing like her before. She was horrifying in her strange beauty.
With an unnerving chill that slid up my spine, I sensed something in the water nearby. Massive, I could tell whatever it was would be a terrifying sight. Perhaps she held me closer to block me from seeing it. I wondered if it was Stalivir, the seaborn she’d rushed to reprimand.
Estri didn’t move, her eyes slowly sliding toward the massive creature I couldn’t see.
“Do not argue with me. If you find yourself here again, Stalivir, there will be consequences.” I didn’t know what she meant about an argument, because no one else had spoken. After a moment, she moved, using her tentacles to pull us up the side of a rock face rather than propelling us through the water. My stomach was grateful for it.
“I think your presence will be eye-opening for me. Perhaps more so than it is for you,” she said, and for a moment, I could have sworn I heard her haunting song once more. “I have lingered within my palace far too long. They do not think the rocks and the kelp whisper to me. That the anemones do not speak of their dishonor. I see all, and they would benefit from the memory. The sea sings, and no one else hears it but me.”
For a brief moment, I sensed a sadness in her, but I couldn’t dwell on it as she hauled me between the spires once more. If this were to be my life for the month, dragged along by a ruler with the temperament of her domain, I wondered if I’d survive it.
I resigned myself to whatever might happen. I’d done what my brother asked of me. Though I had hoped to see a Vesta free from war one day, I wasn’t sure if that was possible. Be it Rainier’s failure or my own demise, I doubted I’d see it. When I thought of my brother wondering about me, about Emma mourning me if I never came back, a yawning sense of loneliness overcame me. Selfishly, I wondered if my death would affect them as much as Lucia’s had.
Would Rainier have asked this of me if he knew the danger I would be in? Closing my eyes, I imagined my brother sitting behind his desk. Far too thin with sunken eyes, Rainier had been sleepless and haunted by his time in Folterra. I’d mistaken his desperation for something else. It wasn’t despondence over what had happened. It wasn’t him missing his wife. Fear had driven him to ask me to do this.
It wasn’t his fault; I should have known what it would entail. But part of me wondered if perhaps I wouldn’t have said yes if I understood just how dangerous this would be. I’d stupidly thought Mairin would handle it and make things go smoothly with her mother. If I had known, would I have told my brother no for the first time in my life? I’d lived so much for him and Dewalt, I didn’t know if I knew how to deny him.
As the rocks grew closer together, the glowing dots grew more dense, and I could tell they were pearls. With a deep sense of awe, I realized they must have been moonpearls. I couldn’t remember the entirety of their significance—Rainier had been the one fascinated by history, while I’d been fond of more artistic endeavors. I believed my father had one on display in the throne room, but I’d never paid attention to it. Slightly larger than an average pearl, they glowed a blinding white. Centuries had passed since they’d been seen on land. Perhaps because Estri had brought them all down below.
Strung between the reaching spires, the moonpearls had been woven with seaweed into long strands of light stretched between the structures. Similar to the lampposts in Astana, these tiny pearls lit the way, creating paths that countless seaborn swam over. Merrows and selkies and tremendous beasts with endless teeth sliced through the water; I couldn’t move my eyes fast enough to take it all in.
Finally, right before I was about to spit up bile from my nausea, Estri slowed in front of a tower. Close to the center of the stone structures, this one was quite tall. And when she climbed to the top of it, hauling her colossal body up the side with ease, she darted inward through a massive window.
“Dinner will be in my ballroom. It is a momentous occasion, and I’d have you look your best,” she said, and then abruptly she released me. As I floated aimlessly, she pulled back with a terrifying grace, taking all the water in the room with her.
I laid on the cool ground for far longer than I needed to, simply because I did not want to move. When the Sea Queen had left—the water leaving with her—she hadn’t thought to place me closer to the ground. Falling from that height hadn’t felt pleasant at all. Bruised and battered with a roiling stomach, the idea of standing was too much. The ground was cool and slightly damp, and surprisingly made of smooth quartz. The walls, however, were made from coral, reaching upward toward a spiraled point—or so I assumed. Out of sight, the walls continued up and up, disappearing into the dark. Vibrant pinks and blues and greens surrounded me, with tiny glowing pearls scattered in the divots and dips of the rock formation. I noticed Estri had left some of her water in the room, and it defied gravity by clinging to the coral surface. Serving as a protective barrier, I supposed, it was a place for the anemones to drift peacefully. I watched in amazement as a tiny fish—orange and black—darted amongst the coral. As it swam in front of a moonpearl, it cast a shadow on the floor. Everything had an eerie glow to it, like a full moon during a winter snow.
I wondered if it was still snowing in Vesta.
Swallowing, I vowed not to think about home. There was nothing I could do. I was being held at the mercy of the Seaborn Queen, and I didn’t suspect she’d take pity on me. Part of me was tempted to stand, to dip my hand into the water and trace the moonpearls. But then I remembered what Estri had said about the sea singing to her and promptly grew unsettled. I felt watched.
Rolling over, I found an indent in the ground filled with water and a bed of seaweed.
Was I meant to rest there? In the water? What if I were to roll over in my sleep?
Abruptly, I remembered the gash in my neck, and realized I hadn’t once thought about breathing since she brought me into this room. Yet, I still drew air into my lungs. Would it work in the opposite direction too? Or did the strange gill only work at her command?
Clambering to my feet, I strode quickly across the room toward the window she’d shoved me through. As if held back by an invisible barrier, the sea waited just on the other side of the roughly hewn sill. Slowly, I put my hand through. And then my arm. I was about to stick my head out, investigating a potential method of escape, when someone gently cleared their throat. I covered my breasts with one arm, spinning toward the source of the noise.
A petite woman stood in an opening within the coral; I wouldn’t have noticed it without her presence. She was short of stature, with soft features–a rounded face and plush stomach. She wasn’t quite naked, but the moss and seaweed covering her left little to the imagination. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, frowning at it. I blinked in surprise when I noticed her hair was translucent. Long and clearly irritating her, it ran to the small of her back. Her own skin was a shade of pink—just too bright to be natural. Or I supposed it was natural to her, but nothing like I’d ever seen above water. Her eyes were that same strange shade, with lighter veins of white radiating from the center. When she gave me a timid, closed-mouth smile, I decided to give her a chance. Nothing felt friendly or familiar in this place, so I wanted to cling to whatever kindness I could find.
“Hello,” I said, attempting pleasantries.
“I am called Fox,” she said, and I blinked at her.
“Fox? Like…the animal?”
She tilted her head, and those strange eyes widened. “I do not know an animal called that. I am told it is a flowra?”
“A…what?”
“Foxglove is my true name. My mother named me after–”
“Flower!” I blurted, realizing what she’d been meaning to say. “Foxglove, like the flower.”
She gave me that same slight smile and dipped her head low. “I am sorry. I am not used to landwalker terms.”
“Don’t be sorry. Foxglove is very pretty. But are you as poisonous as your namesake?”
Fox frowned before looking down at her feet. Her toes weren’t webbed like the Sea Queens, and it made me wonder what her seaborn form was. Fox, the dolphin shifter? The idea made me smile, but she did not return it.
“I do not know what you mean, Princess.”
“Lavenia,” I said, hoping to ingratiate myself to this seemingly demure creature. Estri would be no ally to me, but her servant might help me if I needed it. “It’s nice to meet you, Fox. Or would you prefer Foxglove?”
Her cheeks darkened to a more vibrant shade of pink. “Whichever you would prefer.” Shaking her head, she took a few steps toward me. “I am sent to help you get ready for the ball, Your Highness,” she said. Fox spoke slowly, as the Sea Queen had, and I wondered if it was because of disuse as I suspected. She twitched, adjusting her hair once more, before folding her hands tightly. It seemed to be a battle of wills: hers versus her hair’s.
“Foxglove is pretty, but it is poisonous. Is there a reason you were named after it?”
“Oh,” she said, and she pulled her plump bottom lip into her mouth. “That must be how…My father was a landwalker, but he died before my mother returned to the sea. I suppose she poisoned him.” A frown graced her delicate features, and my own mouth dropped open. After only speaking to her for a moment, I’d apparently dug up some old wound.
“I apologize, that must feel…” Horrible? Strange? Gods, I wished I could eat my words.
“No, he was not a good man. You did not offend.” Fox fixed a smile onto her face, far more exuberant than I thought was true. “You solved one of my life’s great mysteries even though my name was the answer all along.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I was always too afraid to ask her.”
“Your mother? Is…Is Estri your mother?”
At this, the woman laughed—hard. “No, no, I am of her servants’ line. My mother, her mother before her, we’ve all served the queen. Don’t tell Her Majesty you asked that.”
“Would she be offended?” I asked, a sly smile kicking up my lips. I tried to control it, wary over how quickly this person had gotten past my defenses. Hadn’t I learned anything from Mairin? I couldn’t trust anyone—even myself. Yet, here I stood, naked, and strangely at ease. All things considered, I thought I was doing quite well.
“Offended or amused—it would depend on the day,” she offered. “Either way, I’d keep it to yourself,” she said, conspiratorially. Her posture had softened a bit, and I wondered if perhaps I’d found a friend.
“You mentioned a ball? I thought it was dinner.” I supposed Estri had mentioned a ballroom.
“There will be dinner, yes,” Fox said, perhaps not fully understanding me. “Why are you not dressed?”
Slowly, I looked her up and down; what she wore would hardly count as clothing. I twisted my body, looking around the sparse room. I didn’t bother with rudeness or sarcasm—something told me she would understand neither. “Where are the clothes?”
Looking past me, she squinted her eyes at one wall of coral. On legs that didn’t seem quite suited to the movement, Fox walked across the room, and stood with her hands on her hips as she glared down at a rather large anemone.
“Give,” she demanded. About to ask her what in the gods’ name she was doing, a gurgling noise quieted me. Stunned, I watched as the yellow anemone belched out a large wad of aquamarine fabric. It floated in the thin wall of water encasing the coral walls until Fox snatched it.
“I am sorry it is now wet,” she said, spreading out the fabric with a crinkling of her long nose. The gown was a light blue color, but I saw hints of vivid pink and orange within the layers. “I know land walkers prefer things to not be wet.”
“I think I’m going to have to get used to it,” I offered, smiling at the woman.
She tilted her head in a gesture that didn’t appear entirely human as she laid the dress over her arm. “A wise attitude,” she said, before turning back toward the anemone, eyes lighting as if she’d just remembered something. She poked it—hard. “And the rest.”
This time, when the creature belched, the item did not float. Instead, the small metal box slammed to the ground, and Fox winced.
“Quarrelsome creature,” she murmured before picking up what had fallen. When she passed it to me, its weight surprised me. “I do not know if you need my help for that, but I am here, Your Highness.”
I struggled with the rusted latch and opened the box. Inside lay the most beautiful tortoiseshell comb I’d ever seen, alongside a tiara made of moonpearls and twisting spires of violet coral. I blinked at the items, curious about why they were down here. I’d assumed the seaborn mostly kept their other forms, especially after Fox showed such discomfort over the feeling of her hair on her back. What need would they have for these items?
Absent-mindedly, I reached for the comb, inhaling a hiss as the sharpened points cut into my fingertip. Why in the gods’ names would someone create something so viciously sharp to care for their hair? As I held it in my hand, staring slack-jawed at its intricately designed handle, I supposed it might have been for show. There was something strange about it, though. It felt almost heavy in my hand, and I didn’t want to put it down.
“I have heard landwalkers do something called a curtsy. The Seaborn Queen has no use for it, but I can learn if?—”
“No, I do not want that. And please call me Lavenia,” I said. “There is no need for formalities with me.”
“Oh, no. I cannot do that, Your Highness,” Fox said, high-pitched voice going quite loud. Hand darting for mine, she pulled my wounded finger to her mouth. There was a wicked scrape on my skin from the comb, and a bead of blood welled up on my fingertip. I blinked when she swiped her tongue over it. Within a moment, the pain was gone. Looking down, only a small pale scar remained. “You are perhaps the most important guest we’ve had in all my life. Only Old Telemern remembers when Rhia left these behind.”
“The goddess?” I asked, dumbly. Estri’s words about Rhia, when she’d said I’d looked like the goddess, suddenly came back to me.
“You should seek out the old leatherback at the ball.” Fox chuckled, headed toward the coral door she’d entered from. “He might take his two-legged form to have a chance to bore you.”
“So, I should put this gown on and wait?”
The woman nodded. “Do you need my help?”
Glancing at the saturated mess of fabric she’d gently laid to float atop the seaweed, I sighed. “No, thank you.”