18. KAINE
Seaspun Bay. The Sea Court of Faery located south of Fyllera, home to Southern Helm station, was a sight to behold. It was an island court with glass buildings and spires climbing from the sea floor to peak up and above the Altum Tides. The main hold where Lord Zavis held his court was located several hundred metres under the deep sea. Large glass domes interconnected like latticework were lit up by warm yellow lamps. Mer-Fae swam all about, rushing here and there through crystal clear waters. Sea animals and creatures of all sorts flitted about, dodging citizens who looked busy.
Historically, Seaspun Bay was neutral territory. In every old-time war or ruling, the Sea Court insisted on staying out of the conversation, operating in a world of their own – separate from the land courts of Faery. But all that was going to change today, Kaine thought. It had to. For the first time in Faery history, Seaspun Bay would have to choose. And it was Kaine’s task of convincing its leader first – Lord Zavis.
With a breathing device he hired from the shores of Seaspun Bay, Kaine dived deep into the ocean, feeling the temperature drop and cool his skin the farther down he went. The breathing device was the size of a small harmonica with grooves to place your lips around. It was light and made of the same glass the buildings of Seaspun Bay were built from. Kaine would never truly understand the mana behind the device, but it worked. He breathed freely from his mouth.
The waters of the Altum Tides felt heavy and thick against his limbs, gliding through his fingers as he swam. The sounds of a bustling underwater city grew louder and more muffled as he dived closer to the sea floor.
It had been years since he visited the Sea Court, back when Lord Zavis had invited the few Elite to dine with his court. It was an opulent feast held in the grand hall. Kaine remembered it well because Camrine got so intoxicated he accidentally rearranged the seafloor with his mana and . . . memories of his betrayal spiked through Kaine’s mind again. The sight of Sophie writhing under Cam. Visceral. Real. Raw. He hated it so much. The reality of the memories was impossible to ignore, no matter how hard he shook his head or scrunched his eyes.
Keep going, he reminded himself. Revenge had already been served.
Kaine kicked his legs, gliding into the airlock of the main entrance to the Sea Court. The entrance was wide enough to fit fifty beings. On the left, beside the main door was a switchboard with a bright red light on top and a green on the bottom. Swimming to it, Kaine pressed the green button. The glass door behind him groaned to life and began to close. Slowly, a warning tone blared through the antechamber. The water levels in the antechamber drained out, until at last, Kaine could stow away his breathing device and breathe with his lungs the way the gods had intended.
With a tendril of his mana, he dried himself up. His thin black fighting leathers creaked with every movement as he tidied himself. His short spear hung as a warning by his side and his long dark hair shielded most of his face. As soon as the door to the main entrance pushed open, loud chattering filled the antechamber.
Courtesans – scaled, skinned and shelled – peppered the grand hall with goblets of expensive wines in their hands. It was a sight to see. All these sea courtesans in one room, fancied and frivolous. It took effort to maintain their land forms, an hour at best before their skin ached for the touch of the sea. And a few more hours until their legs turned to fins and the like. But of course, like their lord, the courtesans of Seaspun Bay were greedy, using all they had to catch a glimpse of their court and all its happenings.
An obnoxious glass chandelier centred the room, stretching across all five levels of the grand hall. Thick golden tapestries, embroidered with stylistic interpretations of the Sea Court latticework hung from the very top level of the grand hall down to the floor, all meeting upon a golden and glass dais where Lord Zavis was no doubt sitting.
Kaine could not see the lord from where he stood, but he spotted the edges of a crowd upon the dais. Stringed music blared from the corner of the hall, bouncing across the walls in a cacophony of harmonic melodies. With one step across the antechamber threshold, Kaine entered the fray.
He walked tall, proud and straight to where he suspected Lord Zavis was seated. The crowd of seasoned courtesans stopped to watch him. Some leaned into each other to whisper, hiding behind their wine glasses. Others without shame, sneered at him. Kaine tsked. Let them gossip, he thought. He stalked along the golden carpet, underneath the glass chandelier, closer to the dais where, finally, he spotted Lord Zavis with his long white hair and sea-green velvet suit.
He was an old Fae, centuries old though his face remained quite young. He sat upon a glass throne. Beside him to his left, sat who Kaine assumed were his three daughters named after the three seas of Faery; Altumeda, Errida and Fallencia. Everyone knew they were Zavis’s most cherished treasures, more often spoken about than seen. They were decades older than Kaine. Their skin glistened in the warm chandelier light – iridescent with a sheen of moisture. And before all of them were aristocrats and nobles spouting gossip and other nonsense they deemed important today.
Lord Zavis, to his credit, looked exceptionally interested in his courtly conversations until he spotted Kaine who parted the crowd as if he had the plague. They shared a look. Acknowledgment. As he reached the bottom of the dais, Kaine bowed at the waist. “Lord Zavis, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” He stood tall again after a moment, smiling and confident.
Lord Zavis, the white-haired mer-male, threw his hands up in welcome. With a commanding voice, the lord said above the crowd, “Captain Aaryn,”—the entire room quietened—“welcome back!”
Kaine strode swiftly up the dais and shook the hand of the infamous Sea Court lord. “How have you been faring?”
“Swell. Though I’m unsure what to say about what you’ve been up to . . .” Lord Zavis smirked, eyeing Kaine intensely.
Kaine knew what he meant. News of his blood-oath had spread wide across Faery. The Captain of the Elite had made a statement and had chosen a side. It made many Faery folk unsettled.
“I don’t think you’ve met my daughters before,” Lord Zavis gestured toward his daughter sitting directly to his left. “This is Altumeda, my eldest.” With thick blue braids, sea-green eyes and a bored look upon her face, she nodded at Kaine. She was the most breathtaking of the three.
The lord then pointed to the mer-female next to her with light blue hair and the same sea-green eyes. She was much more palatable with a shy smile across her face. Kaine couldn’t mistake her hungry gaze as she watched him; her throat bobbed as he met her eyes.
“This is Errida, my second eldest,” Lord Zavis continued. Errida fluttered her eyelashes at Kaine and smiled sweetly. Kaine nodded in return.
“And my youngest, Fallencia,” Lord Zavis said. His youngest daughter was the image of the first, though her hair was stark white, much like her father’s.
Like sirens, all three daughters spoke at once, their voices melding together in a melody. “It’s a pleasure,” they said.
Kaine bowed his head to the three beautiful mer-females and returned to face Lord Zavis, the high lord of Seaspun Bay.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Zavis winked.
“Certainly.” Kaine did not pay the daughters any heed.
Zavis scoffed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” The sea lord opened his arms, smiled brightly and leaned back in his glass throne. Insurmountable confidence and arrogance oozed from him which Kaine couldn’t help but cringe at.
The crowd that littered the dais grew quiet, daring to listen. Their pearls, gowns and fascinators glinting in the light. Their dolled-up faces shied away, but their moisture-slicked iridescent ears shone with each micromovement, eager to catch each word.
“Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere more private.”
A beat passed.
With a sharp inhale of his slitted nostrils, Lord Zavis sighed, “Very well.” He stood abruptly from his throne. “Carry on,” he declared to the grand hall. The lord clapped twice. The room erupted into a frenzy of music, chatter and dance. Those who had occupied the dais rushed to the dance floor, joining others who started a choreographed, erratic waltz. Kaine watched those in the grand hall, as if hypnotised, dance to the music.
“Follow me,” Lord Zavis said low for Kaine to hear.
Kaine kept close to Zavis, who moved with water-like fluidity, as they exited to the right of the now empty dais. The lord waved to his daughters who remained seated. Altumeda, the eldest, rolled her eyes. Fallencia, the youngest, waved happily at her father. But Errida, she watched Kaine intently.
Kaine quickly averted his gaze back to Lord Zavis who guided them down an arched glass hallway. Between the thick glass walls was water, turning and twisting with every movement of the ocean they were surrounded by. Kaine could faintly hear the wishing and washing. Hung up upon the glass walls were shells of different sizes and shapes. As they walked down the hall, the music from the grand hall began to disappear and the smell of fresh citrus filled Kaine’s nostrils.
They reached a gold-leaf infused glass door. Lord Zavis rested his hand upon the centre of it. As he did, the door glowed to life and disappeared into a swirling mist of water. The tall, white-haired mer-male graciously ushered Kaine in.
“After you,” Lord Zavis said.
Kaine, with all his darkness, brushed past the lord, a contrast to Zavis’s light skin, snow-white hair and green velvet clothes.
“Thank you,” Kaine muttered. He walked into the room, the smell of citrus almost pelting him in the face.
As Lord Zavis stepped over the threshold, the gold-leafed door that had misted into nothingness appeared back in place with a warping sound as if Kaine had just dunked his head into water.
Kaine watched in appreciation. The reputation of Faery’s Sea Court preceded itself. It was lavish, magnificent and the way that mana had been infused into the everyday was formidable.
In the centre of the room though, stood something Kaine never thought he would see in his entire immortal life. Like a glass icicle, it protruded from the floor. A rainbow, iridescent, lava-like fluid rushed about in its centre. Surrounding it were miniscule clouds with what looked like glitter particles suspended in the air.
It was alive.
It was a Wayfinder.
Kaine shot his eyes to Lord Zavis. The arrogant smirk he received in return was answer enough. This was the real deal then. An ancient bridge that connected Faery to the Godlands. The Wayfinder was cordoned off by a golden railing imprinted with the swirls of shells and sea creatures. An intense beam of white light that shone through several layers of large magnifying glasses fixed onto the ceiling, illuminating it as if it were a holy device.
“It is a shame the other two were destroyed,” Lord Zavis said as he admired the ancient gateway.
When the gods and goddesses of the Godlands grew bored of Faery, not long after it was created, they destroyed the bridges that would transport them home – in fear that the Fae would follow them to their homelands seeking retribution for the females they took or the terrors they exacted upon unwitting Fae “for fun”. The gods were ruthless, that much was true.
“A shame indeed. Does it work?” Kaine asked, leaning in closer to inspect the Wayfinder and its crystally surface.
“Can’t say that I’ve tried.” Lord Zavis sighed and began to circle the room at a leisurely pace.
The room was somewhere between an office and a library. Books lay open on display. Some suspended in the air on a wind of mana while others lay haphazardly on stools. The smell of citrus was strongest here. The room was cool and the sound of water gurgling through walls hummed peacefully.
Kaine turned his attention from the Wayfinder to Lord Zavis, who was watching Kaine intently. Kaine stood tall, hands braced behind his back, he puffed his chest. “I’m here upon request of Queen Calliea, to better understand where your loyalty lies.”
Zavis scoffed. “Of course you are.” He shook his head, circling the Wayfinder as Kaine stood still.
“Swear fealty to the queen and we will protect you, your family and the courtesans of Seaspun Bay like our own.”
“I figured as much.” Zavis stopped in his tracks and began leisurely sorting through the drawers that littered the office.
Kaine watched carefully.
“Seaspun Bay’s neutrality has stood strong for centuries. For all of history perhaps”—the lord pulled open the top draw of a desk—“however . . . I understand that those days are coming to an end.”
“Indeed, Lord Zavis. Faery is on death’s doorstep.”
“And let me guess, I have no choice but to choose now.” Lord Zavis fished out a small dark green velvet box from the desk.
“Name your price.”
The mer-male lord began to pace around the room again. A cheeky grin splayed across the lord’s face which irked Kaine like nothing else.
He hated this game.
An impatient growl started in Kaine’s throat.
“I’ve given you a critical piece of information.” Lord Zavis gestured to the Wayfinder. “It’s only fair that you give me something in return.” Zavis tossed the small velvet box in his hand playfully. His sea-green eyes shone with delight.
“As I said, name your price,” Kaine gritted.
“Fortify your protection and power with my family.”
Kaine’s immortal heart stopped for just a second.
“Marry one of my daughters.”
“I can’t—” Kaine cut off.
“You will.” Lord Zavis’s cheerful grin now turned serious, his white brows narrowed, and his broad shoulders squared. “You will because I’ve figured you out, Kaine Dormarth Aaryn.” The lord drew out his name, leaving a beat between each name.
A growl left Kaine’s throat. He bared his teeth but said nothing. He only gripped his short spear, wanting with every fibre of his being to throw it between the lord’s eyes and have the conversation over and done with.
He couldn’t marry one of Lord Zavis’s daughters. He wanted to marry Sophie. But Sophie would understand, wouldn’t she? Perhaps she could see that for Kaine, doing these deeds on behalf of the queen was a necessary evil. A way for him to get her back. Back with him, where she belonged.
“I’m no fool, Kaine. I know that you are Faery’s strongest warrior. Queen Calliea has garnered immeasurable strength over decades, of which the source has finally revealed itself – Terr, the Shadow Realm King himself,” Lord Zavis was basically spitting with anger now. “While the approach lacks tact, I admire the ambition. You’ve forced the hands of many – bow down or die. Bow down or face powers that go beyond the Faery realm.”
He paused.
Kaine softened his knees, ready to attack. He could feel the energy pulsing off the Sea Court lord.
Lord Zavis took in a deep breath and straightened himself again. He softened his tone. “My family and my court are my greatest treasures. Nothing will stop me from protecting them. Nothing. I know you need the Sea Court’s allegiance. Not just its resources but also the message it’ll send to the rest of Faery. That a court, known for never deciding, has finally decided. And as a result, the blood reign shall reign on.”
The lord hit the nail on the head.
“Correct.”
Lord Zavis threw the velvet box into Kaine’s hand. It was light. Soft.
“Then marry one of my daughters. I need a guarantee. That my court of all the courts that endeavour to align with you and the blood throne, remains your priority. My court above all else.”
Kaine opened the velvet box. Inside sat a silver ring, emblazoned with the most breathtaking sapphire he’d ever seen. It seemed he had no choice in this matter. The blood-oath was a law that ran through his veins. By whatever means necessary, ordered Queen Calliea. He looked back up to Seaspun Bay’s lord. “Very well. I promise to marry one of your daughters.” Kaine didn’t want to say it, but he had to. He slammed the box shut.
“This evening.”
“This evening,” Kaine repeated.
Without another word, Lord Zavis pulled out a small knife, pulled up the sleeve of his green velvet suit and made a small incision on his upper arm. The sound of his scaly-smooth iridescent skin against the sharpness of his knife sounded like leather being cut. Three drops of blood fell to the ground. The lord’s eyes did not leave Kaine’s the entire time.
“Lord Zavis, your allegiance to the blood crown is valued and celebrated.” Kaine dipped his head in acknowledgement.
Lord Zavis scoffed. A devilish grin appeared on his face as if he had worked Kaine out like an open book. “So, tell me . . . who is she?”