CHAPTER 41
There was nothing until, with a gasp, I blinked my eyes open.
We were back in the very real faery palace. All of us had returned to our seats, my back still pressed against Arenn’s chest as I was held securely on his lap. Across the table, Lukas glared at his father, but the intensity of his gaze was so fierce it could’ve burnt the frail man’s skin.
“Is it true?” he demanded. “Did all of that really happen?”
The King’s chest heaved as he croaked out a weak response, “Yes.”
Lukas slammed his fist against the quartz table. “All this time, Father! All this time, you told me she was ill! Never thought to mention why? Never thought to mention that she… my own mother wasn’t even born human?” He slammed his fist down again. “You lied when you told me she was ill. And then you lied again every time you told me she would get better!”
“I did it for you,” Ikelos replied in a strained voice. “I just wanted you to have a mother. Ryntook is so far away, and she’d be gone for an entire season. The servants told me you cried for days the first time she left and that you never really stopped until she came back. I couldn’t bear to put you through that again. I—”
“You could have been there for me! I was a baby and you were my father. When I cried, you should have held me!”
“I had a kingdom to run,” Ikelos scoffed, sending a cloud of dust onto his tunic. “I didn’t have time for children. That was precisely why I married your mother. You were her responsibility, but she was too busy frolicking in the ocean. So that’s why, when the faeries presented us with a way to fix all this, I made the decision for her. And I made the right choice.”
Lukas’s jaw tightened as a heavy silence fell over the table.
“You may as well have murdered her,” he seethed. “I will never forgive you.”
Lyssandra cleared her throat, then tapped a spoon lightly on the side of her goblet. “I hate to interrupt your conversation, boys, but we do actually have other important matters to discuss.”
“Why do you even care about this?” Lukas spat, whipping his head up to face her. “You’re no friend of my mother’s. Why are you punishing us all for his cruel actions?”
“Calm yourself, princeling. I’m not finished with my story.” She leaned back in her chair as our attention returned to her. “In our world, magic cannot be created nor destroyed. So when your father gave your dear mother the potion that stripped her of her merfolk abilities, those powers transferred to the one who created the potion.”
“Well, that’s just wrong,” Arenn argued while Queen Amabel nervously sipped from her goblet. “Clearly our mother isn’t a mermaid.”
“Such a clever observation,” Lyssandra shot back, her voice dripping in sarcasm. But she ignored Arenn’s scowl as she continued, “Unbeknownst to our innocent mother at the time, she was actually pregnant with yours truly, me! So when Erissa lost her mermaid essence, it flowed right back to my mother and straight into her womb. Can anyone guess what happened eight months later? What about you, dear brother? Since you are feeling so clever tonight?”
Arenn’s arm around my waist tightened. “You were born with a freakish little fishtail,” he answered coolly.
“That’s right. Sweet baby Lyssi was born equal parts mer and fae. How shocked my parents were when the healers had to dunk their newborn baby into a bath full of water just so she could take her first breath.” Lyssandra scowled as Queen Amabel’s lower lip trembled.
I was glad Lyssandra didn’t insist on showing us that particular memory. I’d assisted with more births than I could count as part of my education, so I had no issue with that, but to see a mother who could barely recognise a baby as her own child? The thought of it made my blood run cold.
“Of course, I couldn’t stay here either,” Lyssandra went on. “Merfolk need saltwater to thrive. So, as a mere babe, I was shipped off to the coasts of Ryntook, to live with the others like me, until my parents could find some kind of solution to fix this whole situation. Or clearly, in my case, until I was strong enough to trade away the damned tail myself.” A flicker of fear passed over her features, but I barely had time to notice it before she carried on in a more relaxed tone. “And then, when my parents went to visit their beloved friend Ikelos to come to some arrangement, because surely he and his wife would want to help remove these wayward powers from an innocent baby, even if it meant Erissa somehow claiming them back… What did you tell them, Ikelos?” Lyssandra waved her pale hand towards him.
He grumbled a response that was barely audible.
“What was that?” she insisted, raising an eyebrow.
“A deal was a deal,” he grumbled again, louder this time. “They could’ve come up with a spell on their own to fix the baby. I’d already paid for the potion. Our deal was done.”
“But you weren’t done, were you, Ikelos?” Lyssandra said as her voice darkened. “You grew scared and paranoid that the faeries would come after you. That they’d steal your wife and force her to take her essence back. And by that point, you knew she’d agree, that your wife would do anything to return to the ocean.” She paused for a moment, then let her chin rest in her palm as a smile crept over her lips. “Why don’t you tell dear Naria what happened when you paid your Corlixin friends a visit?”
A breath caught in my throat. Instantly, my eyes locked onto Ikelos.
“What’s she talking about?” I demanded. “What happened?”
The King stiffened, his already pale face turning whiter than his bed sheets. “Nothing. Happened.”
My heart thundered in my chest. He was lying, clearly he was, so I whipped my head to face Lyssandra.
“Tell me!” I demanded again. “Tell me what happened in my kingdom.”
Lyssandra’s smile grew further, stretching up her sharp cheekbones. The silence was killing me until finally, she broke it with her lilting voice. “Do you remember when I told you of the mages that used to reside in your kingdom?”
I nodded. “The human descendants of the fae.”
“That’s right,” she confirmed. “Your darling king here decided to pay their school a visit, after my parents begged him to help them fix me. He wanted the mages to use their magic to banish the faeries from human soil. Of course, they refused. Ikelos’s idea was mad. But he didn’t take no for an answer. So what did you do, Ikelos, when they told you no?” she prompted him. “Tell her.”
“I…” The frail king tried desperately to keep his mouth clamped shut, but it didn’t take long for the compulsion to overthrow any resistance. “I… I burned down their s-school.”
Burned?
No…
“And when was this?” Lyssandra encouraged him. “Did this happen to be only hours before the famous fire that destroyed poor Corlixir? Do tell us, Ikelos.”
His body shuddered as he feebly attempted to resist the compulsion again. “Y-yes.”
“Father…” Lukas gasped, but I could barely hear him over the thundering in my ears. Suddenly, I felt incredibly dizzy, as if the dining room was spinning in endless circles around me. Too fast. Too much.
“It was you,” I muttered, “it was always you… You started the fire!” My chest seized. Every breath I took felt entirely too short as little stars filled my tear-blurred vision.
“You… You destroyed my kingdom.” The words got stuck behind a choking gasp. In the distance, I could’ve sworn I heard Lyssandra’s cackling laughter.
“YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!”
Ikelos froze. Even Erissa flinched at the sound of my scream, letting the bread roll she was nibbling on clatter against her plate.
Heavy sobs began to work their way up my throat, but I forced them down. Slamming my palms down on the table, I shoved myself off Arenn’s lap. For once, he was smart enough not to try to stop me as I marched over to the other side of the table where Ikelos was trembling. Roughly, I grabbed the back of his chair and yanked it backwards, my knuckles white from the force. It slid across the floor with a deafening scrape until I was towering over the weak, shivering king as he cowered away in his chair.
“Naria, be careful before you do something you regret,” Lukas warned, slowly rising from his chair.
“Ignore him,” Lyssandra snarled, also pushing herself up from the table. She glided to my side, her long crimson ball gown trailing behind her. “Here. I have something to make the job easier.” Lifting her skirt, she plucked a thin silver dagger from her boot. It glinted in the golden light of the room as she placed the hilt in my palm.
“Wait, no!” Ikelos whimpered. “Please!”
“Don’t do this, Naria. He might be a monster, but you’re not. Let the other rulers punish him for his crimes,” I heard Lukas beg.
My knees trembled with both rage and fear. The dagger felt so heavy in my palms. I wasn’t a killer, and I knew I’d regret this, but every time I looked at the snivelling man before me, all I could imagine were my parents’ screams as they burned alive in the flames he started.
“Do it, Naria,” Lyssandra hissed into my ear. She leaned against my side, placing a cold hand on my shoulder. “Do it for me and do it for your kingdom.”
“Wait!” Ikelos protested. He was too weak to leave his chair. Too weak to put up a fight. And thanks to the teachers he’d found for me, I knew exactly where to strike to make this a slow and painful death. Sucking in a deep breath, I raised the dagger.
“Yes,” Lyssandra hissed.
“No!” Lukas pleaded.
“Seeing you with a weapon is so alluring, little human,” Arenn purred.
My jaw tightened. I’d be sure to kill him next.
“Wait!” Ikelos begged with tears streaming down his cheeks. All I needed to do was swing down, but my arms were frozen above me. Why was this so impossibly hard? Squeezing my eyes shut, I finally thrusted the dagger towards him. “You’re forgetting about the treaty!”
Something hard caught my wrist seconds before I pierced his chest.
“What did you say?” Lyssandra snarled. Slowly, my eyes opened to see her fingers curling around my wrist. With a shuddering breath, I dropped the dagger, letting it clatter to the floor. Disbelief washed over me as all my rage was replaced by horror.
I almost killed a man.
“You should ask your parents,” Ikelos’s dry voice answered her, but I could barely hear him over the pounding of blood in my ears.
Huffing, Lyssandra shoved herself off my shoulder as she glared at the Faery King and Queen. “What’s he talking about? What’s this treaty?”
Queen Amabel almost dropped her goblet. “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she stammered.
“It’s nothing you should concern yourself with. It’s a mere trivial political deal,” the Faery King added, a humourless laugh following his words.
Ikelos cackled. “Look inside my head, girl. Like you did with the rest of my memories. I’ll show you what they’re hiding from you.”
Lyssandra furrowed her brow but still reluctantly obeyed, placing a hand against his wrinkled forehead. After a few tense seconds, she gasped and quickly drew her hand away.
“You lied to me!” Her head snapped up to where her parents were still sitting at the table.
“No, no.” Her father rose out of his seat, waving his hands frantically. “I can assure you it was merely a political deal!”
After he spoke, the temperature in the room plummeted, as if someone had just cracked open a window on a brisk winter’s morning. I would’ve questioned it, had my hands not already been shivering so much from another, even colder feeling that weighed on my chest. If the village mother were here, she’d tell me it was probably shock. I did almost kill a man.
Ancients… Could I even still call myself a healer?
“Gold for a daughter,” Ikelos cackled again, forcing my attention away from my trembling palms. “I give you gold, and you stay out of the human kingdoms and far from my wife. Though I’ll admit, I never thought you’d actually accept it! You faeries are no better than the goblins.” He threw his head back as he shook with laughter.
“Quiet!” Lyssandra snapped at him.
The Faery Queen fiddled with her auburn hair. “We always knew you’d come back home eventually, and the gold was very useful to us!”
“More useful than a daughter?” Lyssandra spat.
“Well, they did already have an heir, little sister,” Arenn pointed out with a flourish of his arms, while Ikelos fell apart with dry laughter.
“I said be quiet!” Lyssandra snapped again at Ikelos.
Just then, the strange coldness shifted to a damp feeling, making the ends of my hair feel wet. I glanced at Lukas, who looked equally confused as water droplets formed on the tips of his fingers. No one else seemed to notice, though. Ikelos continued to shake with roaring laughter while Lyssandra’s parents desperately tried to justify their decision.
“You did come back to us in the end,” the Faery Queen reminded her.
“Ask them how much gold they have stored away because of you.” Ikelos spoke between choking laughs.
Lyssandra growled with anger, her head whipping between a cackling Ikelos and her babbling parents. Beneath my feet, the floor seemed to tremble. Then, the water that had soaked my hair and clothes suddenly disconnected itself from my body and rushed towards Lyssandra in a violent, horrifying wave of blue.
“I SAID BE QUIET!” she screamed, as a huge crystal-blue serpent made entirely of water gushed up from her raised arms. As it soared into the air, my mouth swung open and I stumbled backwards. I’d never seen magic like this before. Power thrummed from its swirling blue body – intense power, so full of rage, I could almost taste it.
Without a breath of pause, it barreled towards Ikelos, the sheer force immediately splitting his chair to pieces. One moment he was laughing, and the next, he was being torn apart in a blur of crashing and foaming waves. His cursed body didn’t stand a chance as he crashed against the back wall of the dining room. Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the water serpent vanished, evaporating into nothing but a small puddle around the King’s lifeless body.
Heart pounding, I sprinted over to him before I even realised I’d moved. Everyone was silent as I fell to my knees to roll him over. But I knew what I’d see before I saw it. Glazed over eyes. Parted lips. Quickly, I padded my fingers along his neck, feeling for a heartbeat. Nothing.
“King Ikelos is dead,” I announced coldly.
Behind me, someone cheered.