Chapter 54 Danica #2
I glance over at Rhyland, who looks as shocked as I feel. "Well, that escalated quickly," I mutter under my breath.
"You entered into a Coral Pact with her!?" Cordelia seethes, her eyes flashing with anger and disbelief. "You foolish, reckless child!"
I bristle at her condescending tone, my temper flaring. "Look, lady, I didn't have many options, okay? In case you haven't noticed, Calypso's not exactly the type of mermaid you say no to."
Cordelia sighs, shaking her head in a way that makes me feel like a toddler who just finger-painted on her favorite dress. "You have no idea what you've done, do you? The repercussions of your actions, the gravity of the situation you've placed yourself in?"
She's right. I don't have a fucking clue. I'm flying by the seat of my ass here, relying on instinct and a healthy dose of snark to get me through, but admitting that to Her Royal Mermaidness? Not a chance.
"Enlighten me, then," I shoot back, crossing my arms over my chest. "Since you seem to have all the answers, why don't you fill me in on exactly what I've gotten myself into?"
Cordelia's gaze hardens, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"A Coral Pact is not something to be entered into lightly, you insolent girl.
It is a binding agreement that cannot be broken without severe consequences.
By agreeing to Calypso's terms, you've placed yourself under her control, her power and influence.
She will use you as she sees fit, and there is little you can do to stop her. "
A shiver runs through me like someone just walked over my watery grave. Cordelia's words echo in my mind, and I can't help but think back to my little heart-to-heart with Calypso.
The Sea Witch had clarified that breaking our pact was a big no-no. She'd sworn up and down that she wouldn't go back on her word, but let's be honest—when it comes to ancient, powerful Sea Witches, pinky promises don't hold much weight.
I try to shake off the feeling of impending doom, but it clings to me like a barnacle on a ship's hull. Calypso may have promised not to break our agreement, but that doesn't mean she won't find a way to twist it to her advantage.
I sneak a quick peek at Mirella, who's been doing her best impression of a mute statue this whole time. Her face is about as expressive as a poker player's, but something in her eyes sets off my internal alarm bells.
I force myself to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to give Cordelia the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. "Okay, so I made a deal with the devil. It wouldn't be the first time. But if it means saving the people I care about, I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Cordelia's eyes flash with something I can't quite read. Anger? Frustration? Maybe even a hint of grudging respect?
"You are either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish," her voice softening. "But I fear that your actions may have consequences far beyond just you and those you seek to protect."
"Watch your goddamn mouth when you speak to my mate." Rhyland growls, a severe warning to the Mer Queen.
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. I know I've stepped in it this time, but what other choice did I have?
"So, what do we do now?" I ask, my voice sounding a lot more confident than I feel. "How do we fix this mess?"
Cordelia sighs again, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something that looks almost like pity in her eyes.
"I need that key. Calypso cannot get her hands on it by any means necessary. One thing is certain—we must act quickly before Calypso's plans come to fruition. And we must be prepared for the storm that will follow."
Do I hand it over like it's a spare house key and not some mystical artifact that could potentially unleash who-knows-what kind of aquatic apocalypse?
I mean, sure, Cordelia's got that whole regal "I'm the queen, do as I say" vibe going on, but her idea of security involves a man-eating sea beast with anger management issues. Not exactly inspiring confidence here.
On the other hand, maybe she's got a point. What if this Siren's Lyre is the underwater equivalent of a nuclear warhead, and Calypso's just itching to push the big red "destroy everything" button?
It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, except the rock is a potentially world-ending magical artifact, and the hard place is a mermaid queen who thinks "extreme petting zoo" is a valid security measure.
How the hell am I supposed to make this call? My "save the world" resume is pretty thin, and I'm pretty sure "gave the magical key to sketchy sea queen" isn't going to look great on it either way.
Maybe she'll trade me for the stone? All I have to do is recite my role in this prophecy for the umpteenth time and pray to every deity in the sea that she buys it.
I feel like a broken record at this point, constantly hitting replay on the "I'm the Chosen One" mixtape. If I had a dollar for every time I've explained this cosmic destiny BS, I'd be swimming in cash instead of potentially trading this world ending key for a magical rock.
As much as I want to poke the bear (or, in this case, the pissed-off mermaid), we must tread carefully. If we want to get our hands on that stone and figure out what's really going on here, we can't afford to make an enemy out of the Queen of Aquaria.
So, I take a deep breath and put on my most diplomatic smile. "Look, Your Highness, we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here. Why don't we all take a deep breath, maybe count to ten—or, you know, however high mermaids can count—and start over?"
I can feel Rhyland's gaze boring into my head like he's silently telling me to shut the hell up before I make things worse.
"Let's talk, Your Majesty. No more games, no more cryptic bullshit. Just the truth. What's really going on here, and why is everyone so hot and bothered about this key? What does it do?"
I can't lay all my cards on the table just yet. I've got to get this mermaid to spill the tea first.
Cordelia straightens her posture, her voice regaining its regal composure. "As I said, I require that key to maintain the status quo. It has immense powers, ones that can tip the scales. I cannot allow you to work for that... witch and undo everything I've strived to accomplish to keep—"
"Your Highness..." A merman with massive muscles, and a damn eight-pack with beautiful long blonde hair, I hadn't noticed pipes up from across the room, effectively putting a cork in her royal monologue.
Cordelia clears her throat, looking about as comfortable as a fish out of water. It's obvious she's mentally kicking herself for almost spilling the proverbial beans about what the hell is going on in this underwater circus.
I arch an eyebrow, my suspicions going into overdrive. "Look, I don't know what you were about to spill, but—"
"Angel, we've got a fucking problem," Rhyland's gruff voice cuts through my thoughts. "Lucian just reached out. That bastard Bloodbane's has Seraphina."
Oh my god.
Of course, the universe decides to toss another monkey wrench into the works as if on cue. I nearly choke on my spit.
I whirl around to face Rhyland, my mind racing. "What the actual hell?" I fire back into his mind. "How did this happen?"
Rhyland's eyes cloud over with a deep sadness, and I can feel his worry pulsing through our bond. Or is that my anxiety I'm feeling? It's hard to tell where his emotions end and mine begin.
Damnit.
This whole situation is spiraling fast.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? The stone's right there, practically gift-wrapped and ready for the taking.
Cordelia is about to help me out of this Coral Pact, but Seraphina needs me.
I can't just leave her high and dry. She'd never abandon me, and that's not who I am—family and friends always come first, even if it means dealing with psycho pirates and temperamental sea queens.
"Are you two quite all right?" Cordelia asks, eyeing us with a mix of suspicion and concern.
I quickly shoot a mental message to Rhyland. "We're bailing. Back to the ship, pronto. We'll deal with this hot mess express after we rescue Seraphina."
Out loud, I plaster my best 'everything's fine' smile. "Oh, we're just peachy, Your Majesty. Quick question, though—you wouldn't happen to have a little mermaid's room around here, would you? Nature calls, and all that." I do a little improvised pee-pee dance for good measure.
Cordelia stares at me momentarily, wondering if all humans are this weird before her lips curve into a polite smile. "Yes, of course. Mirella, please escort..." she pauses, clearly fishing for my name.
"Dani," I supply helpfully.
"Ah, yes. Mirella, please escort Dani to the restroom."
Mirella inclines her head, "Of course, Your Majesty."
Mirella turns to me, giving me a look harder to decipher than ancient hieroglyphics. Is it a warning? A plea for help?
Hell, if I know.
As we make our grand exit stage left, I can't help but think that this whole situation is fishy as fuck. And something tells me Mirella's cryptic look is just the tip of the iceberg lettuce in this underwater salad of secrets.
As we follow Mirella, I send another mental message to Rhyland. "The second we're out of this bougie throne room, I'm conjuring a portal. We're bouncing out of here.'"
Rhyland's mental reply is terse. "Got it. Let's move."
"Oh, and Dani…" Cordelia's voice stops me dead in my tracks.
I whirl around to face her, plastering on my best "who, me?" expression.
"I expect you to hurry and get back so we can discuss this further with the key," her eyes narrowing into icy slits of suspicion. "And don't even think about leaving. I have Merguards surrounding this entire palace. There is only one way in and one way out."
Well, damn. That's about as subtle as a brick to the head.
Message received, Your Royal Bitchness.
"Please," gesturing back to Mirella with a smile. "Do hurry."
Pfft..if she only knew what I can do.
I find myself dropping into a curtsey in a moment of pure, absolute idiocy. Yeah, you heard that right. A fucking curtsey—like I'm some debutante at an underwater ball instead of a snarky human trying to outmaneuver a mermaid queen.
So much for my earlier declaration to Mirella about not bowing and scraping.
I pair this graceful, awkward-as-hell gesture with a smile that is so fake that it could probably be used as shark repellent. "Of course, Your Majesty. Wouldn't dream of it," I chirp, lying through my teeth.
Then, like the brave hero I am, I turn tail and scurry after Mirella. Nothing says, "I'm definitely not planning to escape," like running away at Mach 3.
This has to be the weirdest exit strategy I've ever participated in.
But when you're dealing with kidnapped angels, a mermaid queen who's one scale short of a tail, and now we're trying to pull off the underwater equivalent of a dine-and-dash, and the urgent need to pee (fake or otherwise), you work with what you've got.
Here's hoping we can make our great escape before things get any crazier. But knowing our luck? I'm not holding my breath.
Well, figuratively speaking, anyway.