Chapter 10
KAI
“Halt!”
Security was strung tighter than a noose just in time for the arrival of out-of-sea guests, Kai realized as he arrived at the palace.
Two fearsome swordfish patrolled the palace’ main doors, glaring down at Kai.
“I have an invitation,” Kai panted, running his hand through his current-swept hair in a way that he hoped made it look posh.
He hadn’t taken the time at the cavern to dress, and in his haste to get to the palace before sunset, probably looked more than a little ragged with his unbuttoned merchant’s vest, and tide-ripped coif. His tentacles twitched agitatedly. A reddish hue touched the waters as sunset approached. If that idiot eel prince was going to succeed in potioning Aya, it would be any minute now—if he hadn’t done it already.
“Right,” the bigger swordfish said, scowling sharply down his nose at him. “All of the proper-papered citezens and…” He looked him up and down. “—Merchants, arrived at their scheduled times. Didn’t you read the invitation?—if you even have one.”
“I do have one.”
Kai produced the papers Aya had given him, and grimaced as he handed them over. They were crumpled and a little water-torn from the night they’d spent in his hair, but the seals they bore were no less official.
“And no, it doesn’t have an arrival time listed for merchants. Private guest only. I’m a personal guest of Princess Ayalina.”
It wasn’t Kai’s first ball. As a merchant apprentice of one of the laziest sea witches in the Atlantic, Kai had spent some of his early years at nearly every kingdom and outpost taking turns running errands and making connections with ingredient vendors, cauldron blacksmiths, and, very occasionally, actual buyers. Everywhere he went, the merchants he worked with had expected him to already be trained, and so most of what he knew about etiquette, and formalities had been learned through painful error. Tonight, his error was showing up late, dressed as a merchant, wearing black tentacles.
“Hah!” barked the second sword. “Now that’s a story for you, Earl! Princess? I bet this whelk’s one of Ezra’s guards late on his shift. Well, you’ll just have to take the stripes for missing work this time, boy! Don’t you know we have important people here tonight?”
“He couldn’t have gotten that invitation from Princess Aya,” Earl reasoned dumbly. “She’s one of them getting hitched!”
Kai gritted his teeth hard enough it was a miracle they retained their points. “I am not a guard; I’m one of the kingdom mages. I am papered. I have a personal royal invitation. Let me through.”
The fish scoffed, barring his entry with their blades, when he tried to march past them.
“Well, no magic allowed tonight, either!” barked Earl.
Kai crossed his arms, glowering. “Then why are the potions that the depths and the arctic staff use allowed? Or the lighting, the cooking fires, or the airdome, for that matter?” he argued, desperation for entry starting to make his tentacles curl. “This event is riddled with so much magic, it’s making my ears buzz!”
“How do you know about the potions? Are you a spy?” The second fish pointed his blade a little too close to Kai’s middle, and on instinct Kai seized with a tentacle, and shoved it to the side before he could get skewered.
“Because I brewed them,” he snarled. “I have important news for the princess. Let. Me. Through,” he snarled, snapping his teeth in the guard’s face.
“Hey, that’s assault on a guard, that is!” cried Earl, over Kai, although he clearly regarded Kai as more of a threat than before when he saw how easily Kai parried his companion. “Can we get some backup here? Backup! And a lockbox!”
Kai snarled again. Neither he, nor Aya could afford any more time wasted with these fish—nor with any of the actual guards if they decided to throw him in a lockbox before someone could realize that these swordfish had been at the brine. He had only minutes—if any time at all.
“Nevermind,” Kai grunted, throwing down the second fish’s sword into the ground hard.
The swordfish blubbered and wheezed, trying to free itself from the muck beside the but before he had, Kai was long gone.
It had been a long time since Kai had been to the palace. Titus had managed to construct entire towers, and several airdomes since he had last visited. More importantly, the palace security looked nothing like when he and Aya would sneak in and out when they were younger.
There were ostentatious species of guard at every open balcony, window, and parapet. The only place there weren't guards posted was the air-dome above the ballroom. He grimaced. Kai had no doubt that breaking into a dome full of dignitaries would get him hunted first, and his papers checked post-mortem.
Out of view of the gate guard he slunk into a kelp bed in the palace gardens where security wasn’t in active patrol, and watched for signs of movement. Outdoor, there was the gate guard, ground-floor sentries, and a rotation of garden patrolmen. It was easy to see that after a long day of being on duty just for show, many of the guards were bored, or even dozing. Sunset would bring a shift change, but whether that would be before the light died down, there was no guarantee.
The eel was here with Aya—
Princess Aya, he mentally corrected himself.
—and Princess Aya had no idea of the danger she was in. The mind was a tricky thing to alter. That potion could cause Aya to lose herself, her feeling, or her sanity if he failed.
The memory of Krill’s pained writhing was fresh and raw in Kai’s mind. His plan for exacting justice on the prince was hazy, and depended entirely on him reaching her in time.
Aya would be in the ballroom, in the middle of all of the security—possibly even inside the air-dome itself. He sighed, wishing he’d thought to put on something that at least made him look like he belonged. The best he could hope for would be to get close to the ballroom via one of the side-corridors, and then try to spot Aya before any knights or patrol spotted him. At worst, he could grab a tray of drinks and hope to pass as a servant—and that none of his upper-tier clients recognized him.
There wasn’t time for deliberation. Kai carefully controlled his camouflage to mimic the kelp fronds. Then, as soon as he touched the shadow of the palace far wall, he shifted to the blues and golds of the palace walls, and ascended as fast as he dared to a curtained window that opened into one of the outer corridors. He passed six windows in the climb, all with a pair of bored sentries watching the drama of nobles out on walks in the palace gardens. Some picked sea grapes and pondweed flowers when they thought no one was looking. Others were engaged in more distracting activities in corners where they thought no one could see.
There! Kai saw the window he was looking for. Barring any internal changes to the palace, the fifth floor corridor would take him to a servants’ passageway right under the ballroom thrones.
The only obstacle to his entry was a pair of blennies on the edge of the balcony beneath his entry point. Clinging to the palace wall, he hung upside down just above the window frame, and colored himself the same as the curtains. All he could do was wait for the changing shift, and hope that either the eel hadn’t made his move, or that the princess was surrounded by too many people for him to be able to.
Eying the blennies, waiting for a moment of their inattention, Kai was both relieved and horrified to hear the voices that drifted up from the corridor below.
“I’m sure you could show me this—this thing, tomorrow,” Aya was saying.
Relief pounded through his veins. Aya’s senses were still her own, but what was she doing in a servants’ corridor alone with the eel?
He had little doubt as to what the Eel prince was about to ‘show,’ the princess. He looked down. The blenny sentries stood at attention half asleep, and leaning heavily on their spears. Careful to keep himself nearly clear with his camouflage, he reached down and felt for the window—and swore silently. It was a true window. Thick sea glass covered the opening so that anyone posted this high up would have to swim up to be there, and there was no entry through a window so thickly cemented in.
“What, and have every moment chaperoned by that old turtle? I think not, Princess,” the eel scoffed. Although he wasn’t low enough to see through the overhead window, Kai could practically see the arrogance dripping off the eel’s ugly orange tail.
“This isn’t proper! If you’re seen taking me away from the ball early, it isn’t going to help your suit,” Aya protested.
“Ah, because you’ve been so receptive to my suit, princess,” said Ellian. “Come along…”
An angry shiver rippled through Kai, and it took all of his will-power to control his camouflage and stay blended. He could attack the blenny guards and have them unconscious on the balcony in seconds, but the death warrant that would come from actual assault on a palace guard would take away both his and Krill’s chances of escaping this kingdom.
“Oh, that’s…that’s really lovely, I’ve always liked the Sunfish.” Aya’s voice was timid, and he could hear her desire to escape strong enough that it pulled on his hearts.
This was it. The potion was in that sunfish pendant, Kai knew, because he’d put it there, himself, in an old carving he’d done.
Then, Aya made the mistake of laughing nervously, which the eel no doubt took as some sort of encouragement.
“Like me to fasten it for you? No need to ask, love. I am already well informed on what will make you happy.”
Kai heard the threat in Ellian’s voice at the same time as Aya did. The question was, why hadn’t the guards? The window panes were thick, but not so thick that they shouldn’t be aware of the threat. But then, Kai’s senses had always been more sensitive than most species.
Aya yiped in pain, and it was all Kai needed to decide that being spotted by the blennies, or even the whole palace guard wasn’t worth more of this.
He dropped his camouflage.
“What are you doing?” he snarled, and the blennies jumped so high that if they hadn’t been underwater, they’d have flown straight off the balcony.
“Crikes!” shouted one.
“M-Monster!” exclaimed the other.
Not too bright, then. That was fine.
Kai shifted his coloring to match Captain Kael, hoping that in the stress of things, the creatures wouldn’t recognize his lack of belonging until it was too late.
“Your princess is being assaulted in the room below. Respond! Save her!” he ordered as briskly as he could manage.
“Swim around, then!” said one of the blennies.
They left immediately to find a palace entrance.
“Are you both insane, that’s too far!” he yelled after them. He rounded on the window in time to see the prince and Aya at last. Ellian was forcing the necklace onto her neck, and she was struggling valiantly against the bigger fish.
“It’s only a formality, all these tedious meetings they have planned, don’t you see? These tours and luncheons and balls. Wouldn’t you rather avoid them, too? After all, there are so many more exciting things we could do.”
Kai’s blood boiled, and just like back in shipwreck valley, instinct drove him to use the few seconds that he had. Kai slammed himself into the window. It rattled in its cement frame, glass cracking.
Good.
“Let go!” Aya jerked in the prince’s grip. “I. Said. No!”
Too little, too late. Aya had always been too sweet for her own good. The idiot eel had probably taken her politeness all evening as some sort of go-ahead for his advances. Aya’s greatest strength was often her downfall. She was too kind. Too soft. And though he treasured the things her kindness brought him, the world was none of those things. It was going to eat her alive.
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He slammed into the window again. More cracking. Iron filaments in the window panes sprung apart, releasing some of their panes onto the balcony floor, and cutting into his limbs—but Kai was used to pain.
“Nothing in this ocean will force me to marry you. Not you. Not my father. Not threats. Nothing!”
“I’d hoped to give you a choice, Princess. I’m honorable. Any mermaid would give their senses to be with me—and you will!”
“Coward!” Kai snarled, and with one more push, shattered though the cement, filaments, and glass with a muffled crunch!
He shot over the lip of the curtains. Black and lilac coloring returned to his limbs as he dropped his camouflage in one hot rush of blood. He descended just in time to see Ellian snap the pendant in half, and in the last dying rays of the sun, its iridescent powder soaked the waters around Aya’s gills. Ellian flapped his tail hard, sending it in her direction as he, himself, backed away from the stuff.
“Stop!”
Kai heard the word ripping from his own chest. Though he sped down to where they stood with a speed that would make a sailfish envy, he already knew there was nothing he could do.
“Stop, Aya—don’t breathe!” he cried.
Aya gasped.
“Don’t—what?” she inhaled, and the potion latched onto her gills like water into a dry sponge, drawn into her blood and lungs with the natural speed of magic.
Aya blinked hazily, shaking her head as she glanced between the eel and himself.
Kai’s chest seized as he watched the silty green haze creep over her irises. No one but a sea-mage or witch would be able to see the potion’s effects, and although he proudly watched her fight the potion’s effects, as the last of the sunlight winked out, the potion’s effects were sealed.
“Aya.” Kai took her shoulders gently, ignoring the eel who had been blown back several feet by the current of his arrival. “Aya, how’s your head? Can you remember me?”
“Kai?” Aya stared dreamily at him. “Kai, why does my head hurt so much when I look at you? You…you’re so late!”
A roil of conflicting relief and guilt danced an unwelcome mambo through his middle. Aya was right. He had been late—to everything, and it seemed those dearest to him were paying the price.
“I’ll thank you not to touch my fiancée!”
Without any conscious thought of his own, one of Kai’s tentacles brandished itself like a whip at the prince, letting Kai keep his focus on Aya. Holding her arms gently, he could see where Ellian had cut her neck with the chain. Tiny rubies of blood floated out and simmered into the water, sharpening his senses with the scent. Little fingerprint-shaped bruises were starting to form on her shoulders and wrists from where the prince had grabbed her.
Why hadn’t she just screamed? Did she truly believe that she was so trapped here that no one would come to help? With a pang of disappointment, Kai spiraled further down in his guilt. Well, no one had come to help, had they?
“Your head hurts?” he found himself saying. “Do you remember why? You’re not dizzy, are you?”
“Dizzy?” she slurred. Putting a hand on her eyes, she leaned forward, almost falling into him. “Yes, now that you say—has the room always been this crooked?”
“Yes. Don’t worry about it,” he was going to say. Then, he was going to ask a dozen more questions about the suspicious headache, when of course, the Eel’s grating voice cut in.
“Do you always try to stop a paying customer from using your products? Consider yourself lucky. I’d report you and your little business if it wouldn’t ruin my little ploy here. But then again, you can’t exactly report me, either, without confessing what you’ve done can you?”
Kai snarled, holding Aya upright in the water as he rounded on Ellian, showing every one of his pointed teeth.
“Titus’s pathetic guards are the last thing you have to worry about, eel.”
First Krill, and then Aya. Kai was going to kill this prince and then string him out for his men to find.
Ellian blinked. Blinked and then smiled. “Oh, but you do, don’t you?” The prince had the good grace to plaster a false, terrified look on his face before he screamed: “Guards! GUARDS!”
The blennies had at last come to their senses and come through the window after him, but along their way, had gathered at least six more guards.
Kai briefly wondered where all of these mermen had been when their interference would have been useful for their princess’s safety.
“Saw the whole thing!” one of the blennies was claiming already. “Yes, yes! Just sped right on past us!”
“Fought past us, more like!” corrected the other blenny, clearly trying not to appear as lax on the job as they’d both been.
Kai fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“Princess Aya! Are you alright?”
That got Kai’s attention. From behind the small contingent pouring in through the destroyed window, was Captain Kael himself.
Kai didn’t move from Aya’s side, keeping himself firmly between her, and the eel prince.
Aya put a hand to her head, her face bloodless and pale. All at once, she lost herself and began to tip over. Kai caught her before she could stumble into a wall, and was immediately informed of his mistake.
“Cecaelian! Stay back from the princess!” ordered Captain Kael. He headed the guards with a look on his face that could have soured grapes. “What are you doing away from your post? Cecaelian guards aren’t permitted out of King Ezra’s escort!”
Kai glanced from his vest to the armor the guards wore. Did he really look like a Kuroshio guard? Opening his mouth to give the captain the same failed speech he’d tried at the gate, the prince beat him to the punch, and, being a prince, was actually listened to.
“The cecaelian did enter rather suddenly. I believe it’s sent my betrothed into shock—as you see…” Ellian put forth slimily. “My, my, I did think that the high king’s guard would have a tighter hold on security, especially when there are such important guests in attendance.”
Captain Kael ruddied a little, and his meaty hand moved to the blade strapped to his white-and-black striped tail. Kai doubted anyone had ever questioned Kael’s authority in his life, and had an inkling that things would get ugly if Ellian was allowed to continue.
“I am a guest,” Kai explained tightly, holding his hands in a peace gesture. “A personal invitation from Princess Ayalina. Here…”
A glance at Aya told him that she was in no condition to defend him from a Captain that she, herself, feared. Sighing, as though very put out, Kai reached for his pouch where the invitations had been, and recalled with a twinge of irritation the swordfish who had taken them from him—and kept them. His tentacles curled and uncurled in frustration. This looked very bad.
There was nothing for it.
“Aya, do you think you could tell Captain Kael that I’m just here on an invitation?”
And perhaps tell him that this eel just tried to poison you? He mentally added. It would be incriminating to already know what the eel had just done, but if Aya told him herself…
“Is this true, Princess Aya?” the chief asked suspiciously. “You invited this…guest?”
Aya was turning from pale to pale-green. Could no one see that she was close to fainting? Or worse?
“I did invite him—I think—” Aya stuttered, hand over her eyes, she raised her head at last to look at the scene. “Kai?”
“The princess isn’t feeling well—” Kai tried to say, but the guards’ ears were trained on the prince.
“What my beloved is trying to say is that this interloping cecaelian is bothering her. He seemed to have objections to our betrothal, and chose a most inappropriate time to voice them. Wouldn't you say so, my dear?”
When Aya’s gaze landed on Ellian, her confusion melted into a dreamy, dull smile.
Oh no…
Kai could see the moment that the potion took full control. Aya’s hands fell to her sides, then clasped in front of her, wringing, as though her natural sureness had simply evaporated. She righted herself in the water, but only just barely, and the green in her face faded into a pale, artificial flush. Her tail took her toward the prince, and under so many eyes, Kai had no choice but to let her go.
“Oh, yes!” she said, clearly having no idea what she was agreeing to. “Yes, he did!”
Anyone who knew her could see that there was something wrong with her. Unfortunately, the guards neither knew her, nor knew that anything was out of the ordinary here except for himself. Kai folded his arms tightly, scowling. As he examined the guards’ faces, he knew there was nothing he could do without making the situation much, much worse.
“In fact, we were just on the way to announce the betrothal, and we wouldn’t want anything more to get in the way,” the eel continued, giving Kai a smile that Aya seemed to find dazzling, and that the guards either didn’t see, or didn’t care, was dripping with malice.
“Right, Prince Ellian,” Kael was already agreeing, no doubt pre-informed by Aya’s father this sort of thing might happen during the eel’s visit. “We’ll provide you with an escort back to the ballroom…”
This was it. The moment where the Captain could realize there was something wrong with Prince Ellian having moved the princess so far from the ballroom, but evidently Ellian being foreign, was enough to excuse any behavior out of custom.
Hands on their blades, the half-dozen guards moved to salute beneath their helmets when it became clear that the Captain had made a decision.
“Right,” the chief addressed the royals, first. “Since you have an important announcement to make, best to make it before the evening finalé. Some of the early arrivals are already starting to make their farewells.”
To Kai’s horror, two of the guards moved to flank Aya and the eel, who let Aya drape herself over one of his arms. The eel shot Kai another nasty grin.
“And you, boy. Invited or not,” the chief said in a way that told him he very much believed he had not, “you’re going to have to see King Ezra later. He’s responsible for all of his people. You’ll have to stay in the guard’s quarters until after the ball,” he added in a way that implied ‘lock-box,’ or ‘prison quarters.’
“Like I said, I’m here by invitation, and I am certainly not—” Kai started to hiss, when one of the smaller guards jumped forward with a disgusting amount of enthusiasm.
“I’ll take him there personally, Captain!” said the young guard.
Kai glowered at the impudent little soldier. It didn’t take long, however, for him to decide that it would be easier to slip away from one guard, than seven.
To his surprise, the captain agreed, the large merman’s tail already jerking in the direction of the ballroom.
“Be quick then, ah—” the captain paused. Kai would have scoffed had the situation not been so dire.
The captain didn’t know his men’s names?
“If you hurry, you might even make the announcement.” Then, addressing Kai, he said; “Consider yourself fortunate, lad. I don’t know what trouble you were trying to stir here, but it looks like a non-incident. In the name of the festivities, you might even get a lighter punishment.”
With that, the captain and his men simply turned and left, giving Kai no chance for further explanation, and effectively blocking any other chance he’d have had to swim after Aya. Although now, he didn’t know what could be done… what he could possibly do to change what had been done to her.
Letting the young guard lead him down the hall, Kai loathed the palace more with every statue and vaulted corridor they passed. He loathed the bias shown by the palace guard toward foreign princes over their own people. He loathed the eel prince for the slimy way he’d let his hands wander on Aya’s arms and back. Even more, he loathed himself. Aya would never be in this repulsive position had it not been for him.
Consumed with his own thoughts, Kai paid little attention to the guard beside him except to search the corridor for any doors that might lead to cupboards or smaller quarters—somewhere where he could leave an unconscious merman long enough to sneak off the palace grounds.
The guard, however, didn’t seem to be guiding him toward where he remembered the guard’s quarters being, or even the prisons. Kai tsked.
It was possible that the young guard was so new to his contingent that he didn’t know the way around the inner palace yet—that would certainly explain his enthusiasm, and his eagerness to please the captain of the guard.
“I don’t like the prince either, but I didn’t think you’d go this far,” said the guard conversationally. “Come on, Kai, we’ve both lost. At least I can do it gracefully. We always knew it would go something like this. Why are you acting so surprised? At least Aya seems happy with the guy—even if he is an eel.”
Through his anger, it took Kai longer than he’d have liked to admit to recognize Adin’s voice.
“Adin!” Kai exclaimed.
He couldn’t see Adin’s face beneath the guard’s helmet, but the crooked stripe on Adin’s back fins was unmistakable. If he’d been paying more attention, he’d have noticed far sooner.
“Look, Kai, I won’t be able to get you out of trouble like this again. Call it…call it payback for the squid last week,” Adin said quietly. “But really, Aya needs support! Not….not whatever tonight was!”
With that, Adin rounded them to face a scullery door at the end of the corridor, so well-seamed into the craggy walls that Kai wouldn’t have noticed it had Adin not pointed it out.
Kai gaped between Adin and the door.
“When Aya makes her choice, I’ll happily respect it, but Adin, she sure as barnacles didn’t choose that eel! He’s potioned her!”
Unfortunately, Adin didn’t have nearly the reaction he’d hoped for.
“Really, Kai?” Adin popped the visor of his helmet.
His eyes were bloodshot, and Kai could see that the young merman had been crying, or at least not sleeping.
“You think I wouldn’t like to believe that, too? But hey, I can take it like a man. He’s a prince! He’s what she’d been waiting for. It isn’t right to interfere.”
Kai shoved an exasperated fist through his hair, and rounded on Adin. “I’m telling you he’d potioned her because I watched him do it,” he exclaimed. “Aya is in real trouble, and you’re her guard! Where were you, by the way, when she was getting dragged, alone, out of the ballroom!?”
That made Adin pause—but not for the right reason. His hands balled to fists at his side, and he glanced back down the corridor, as though reconsidering the idea to not shut Kai in a room for the night.
“You know, Kai,” Adin huffed, snapping his visor shut. “You really should go. If I’m caught doing this, I’ll lose my job. But hey? It’s the right thing. The sunset shift-changes should still be happening, so you can get out through the kelp-beds. Poseidon’s toes, Kai! Just…just don’t make me regret this. We probably won’t see each other so much anymore now Aya won’t even be in the kingdom. Think of this as a goodbye favor. I really…I really will miss you and Krill.”
This wasn’t the goodbye that Kai wanted to give Adin, but for the third time that day, he just didn’t have enough time. What Adin had said had given him an idea. Regretfully, he swam through the door, and let Adin close it behind him, hoping against hope that this wasn’t how their childhood friendship would end. Kai didn’t leave through the kelp beds, however. In the dark waters around the palace, he hid under the bioluminescent lights that winked along the palace walls, trying to shut out the booming voices that echoed through the currents from the air-dome:
“Announcing the formal betrothal of Princess Aya of Atlantis, and Prince Ellian of the Red Sea! Wedding to be held in three days hence! Long live the Kingdom of Atlantis! Long Live High King Titus! Long Live the Future Kings and Queens!”