Chapter 5

ADIN

Earlier that day…

Adin wanted to sink through the silt as he escorted Marlin and Aya back from Shipwreck Valley, wishing with every flip of his tail that the old turtle was enough protection to take her home himself. His superiors at the palace had warned him and the other palace guards about giant squid migrating to the surface. Shipwreck Valley wasn’t on the list of breeding spots for them, though—or at least, he thought it wasn’t.

The squid that had attacked them had arrived far too early for its mating season. Early, and not where it should have been, and….and it wasn’t his fault!

But… but Kai seemed to think it was, he thought grumpily.

Adin first met Kai on one of his outings with Aya several years back. By then, Aya and Kai were already friends, and she’d never told him how she’d managed to fall into such close company with a cecaelian. So much of Adin’s training was learning to fight cecaelia who entered the kingdom upapered, or who tried to practice dark magic, or who wantonly murdered speech-gifted fish in the outer reef that he’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d first seen him.

It had taken him months to really be assured that Kai wasn’t going to hurt Aya—Aya, who never minded the suspicious ingredients that Kai was always collecting, and didn’t find it ominous when he spent so much of his time ferrying magical items between kingdoms overnight.

He didn’t even try to hide it!

As a palace guard, Adin was required to be up to speed on all of the kingdom laws—and the ones concerning cecaelian citizens could fill books. If benign magic ever went bad, or if dark magic popped up to cause trouble, the death toll for regular mer-folk started counting, and the fault, was nearly always them. For that reason, justice regarding cecaelia had to be steep and swift—

—For the citizens' sake! For safety!

However; Aya, who spent so much time in the reefs befriending anyone who would talk to her, couldn’t understand why the laws had to be so harsh. Nothing he could say would convince her that Kai was dangerous, even if he was her friend. Adin would bet his month’s pay that even watching Kai slam an adult Architeuthis through solid wooden boards—alone—and then live wouldn’t convince Aya of the danger.

But if Kai hadn’t done it, then Aya might be….

Adin shook his head hard. If he was honest with himself—something he’d rather drink jelly-stings than do—the shame of what happened was eating him alive. Aya would have been badly hurt or worse if Kai hadn’t intervened. The problem was that when Kai had told him this whole thing had been his fault… he’d been right.

You almost got her killed, you idiot! he wanted to yell at himself.

Adin trailed sulkily behind Aya and Marlin as they swam toward the palace. The turtle was heavy, old, and slow. He grit his teeth. At this pace, it would take them until nightfall to reach the palace. Next to Marlin, swimming in happy, circling patterns, was Aya with her flighty red fins and easy laughter. Aya’s tail shimmered in the sunlight behind her like a vibrant, crimson streamer.

Aya was…well, she was glorious. The other royal princesses might have more poise, more manners, and conduct themselves more regally at balls, but Aya had a way of throwing herself into her passions in a way that benefited everyone around her.

She had always been that way, but ever since she discovered the star charts in her father’s library, that passion had expanded. Adin himself had gone with Aya to the surface more than a dozen times when she insisted on adding to those charts. Though his skin dried out uncomfortably with those visits to the surface, Princess Ayalina wanted nothing more than to help her people with every new discovery.

What began as a fascination with the pretty lights in the sky had turned into Aya being able to predict weather, storms, and threats. Eventually, she had enough of her own records to be able to foresee meteor showers, alignments, and eclipses—and that pushed her dangerously into the realm of being useful to the kingdom mages. Although he didn’t like it, Adin had to admit that the information Aya brokered freely had saved lives. Though she had no magical power of her own, Aya brightened everywhere she went, and lightened the burdens of everyone she met. In Adin’s eyes, Aya wielded a magic of her own.

Unfortunately, her skills had also further endeared her to Kai. Kai, who, with his weird purple eyes and grumpy aloofness from Aya somehow managed to make her smile more than Adin did. Kai, who was forever making him look incompetent.

“Marlin, are you sure you don’t know why father is summoning me? He didn’t have anything scheduled.” Aya’s voice cut through Adin’s angry sulking.

The city of Atlantis lay in the center of the Atlantean kingdom’s three rings, and they had a long swim from the border of the second ring to the palace. He couldn’t blame her for asking. It was a long swim.

The first ring around the inner city contained the merchants, craftsmen, and smiths who produced the bulk of the city’s needs and trade export. The second ring—and the most misshapen of the three—held all sorts of shoal farms and fruiting crops. The third ring was home to the protective reefs that kept out the frigid currents from the trenches, housed the slums, and occasionally was home to traveling species and designated hunting grounds. It also was where most of the cecaelia chose to live for its hidey-holes and dark caverns found naturally in the larger chunks of reef.

Shipwreck Valley had been near one of those reefs on a part of the outer ring closest to the city. Had it been on the far end, it might have taken them days to get back to the palace. As the currents were blowing; however, it was actually only an hour to the city, and from there, just minutes at full-swim to the palace, provided one was not stuck behind a turtle as slow as Marlin.

At its widest point, the kingdom could take days to cross from end to end, and it was staggering to think that this much of the ocean was under just one merman. Although High King Titus ruled over all of the oceans and seas, his heart kingdom, and his primary responsibility was the inner city, as well as the reefs and fields that surrounded it. Lesser kings, generals, and princes ruled the other seas around it and answered to the High King, as no one merman, particularly one of Titus’s age, could manage the grievances of all the world’s waters alone—or at least, he couldn’t do that and not die an early death from the stress. If it weren’t for the status that allowed the nobility to court the attention of the princesses, Adin wouldn’t have a speck of envy for the upper ranks.

“Marlin?” Aya prompted again, when she’d only had silence from both of them. “What’s going on?”

Aya’s confusion at the summons hurt his heart, and reminded him of one of the reasons he’d convinced her to swim so far today. Looking back now, he realized he’d been childish. In hindsight, making the princess late for a summons he and the other guards knew would come had not only been unfair, but would only worsen the impact when it came.

“I couldn’t say, Princess…” the turtle trailed off, but Adin supposed it could have just been because he was out of breath.

Adin opened his mouth to tell Aya about the summons, and perhaps even to apologize, but before he could finish forming the words, the old turtle gave him a firm shake of his head.

He closed his mouth again. Marlin knew. He knew… and he didn’t want to hurt her, either.

“Is it trouble?” the princess asked again.

“The king didn’t seem angry, princess. I wouldn’t worry your fins over it. Only, worry enough to get us there quickly. As this old turtle gets older, I get more threats to get turned into soup by the day!”

Adin would have laughed had he been in a better mood. The High King would never hurt his most trusted advisor, and aside from the feral turtles from the outer reef, no turtle in Atlantis was in real danger of being eaten by anything but deep sea predators. All the same, he swam a little faster, and Aya pumped her fins a little harder to keep up.

Titus definitely wanted Aya home. Every current that ran through the kingdom was pulling them toward the palace strongly enough that Adin was surprised they didn’t just jettison them through the palace gates when they arrived.

Instead, Adriatta, the eldest of Titus’s daughters, was waiting for them, eliciting a groan from Adin. It wasn’t as though he disliked the eldest princess, but her presence meant that her husband was somewhere in the palace, and something about King Ezra of the Cecaelia always made his scales shiver—not to mention, that meant he would have extra bunks to prepare for that night. Ezra’s cecaelian escort would be sharing their quarters that night. The only perk there was that cecaelia never needed much sleep.

“Adriatta!” Aya darted out from behind Adin, swishing past Marlin nearly fast enough to flip him over.

“Earl, Brawn,” Adin greeted sullenly.

The swordfish who guarded the palace gates doubled as the guards’ fencing instructor, and although they’d always been fair to Adin, he certainly had received his fair share of bruises and nicks from them. They saluted him minutely with their fins, which perked him up a little. He only hoped he’d be seen as the guard who brought the princess back, instead of the one who kept her late in the first place.

“Ahem,” Marlin cleared his throat when he’d righted himself, and managed to interrupt the sisters' cooing. “Please, princesses, I know you need to be doing this eventually, but Titus will have my shell for a serving bowl if Aya is any later for the summons.”

Getting through the main corridor took longer than swimming through the whole of the citadel. Cooks, cleaners, and every event planner in the kingdom could be seen bustling about from corridor to corridor. Adin didn’t have to be a full-fledged guard to see that the lessened wariness among the servants was going to make the upcoming ball a security nightmare for him. The anemones posted at the entrance of the corridors had been overfed, and instead of keeping unregistered species out, were letting anyone through.

It was taking so long to get through that Adin had to growl and snap at the servants to make them let Titus’ own daughters get to the throne room. Two blowfish watched their approach impatiently, wearing an expression that Adin would know anywhere—they were late getting off their shifts.

“Entering Princess Ayalina of Atlantis!” one blowfish announced loudly, and a little early when they were finally near enough the throne room not to worry about tripping over something venomous. The other flung open the door, obviously put out that the first one had beaten him to the yelling portion of proceedings.

Good luck, Aya, he wanted to say. I’m here if you need me.

I’ll wait for you.

You can always refuse if this isn’t something you want.

You should refuse, Aya!

I’ll guard you wherever you go.

However, Adin said none of these things, instead waiting at his dismissed place with Adriatta as the doors closed before them, and the blowfish abandoned their posts with relish.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Adin didn’t want to eavesdrop, but there was really no other way to wait for Aya’s exit and be able to meet her. He heard every word from Titus as he gave Aya news that would change her future.

Waste her future, more like, he thought bitterly, although deep down, he knew that wasn’t true.

There would be nothing stopping Aya from seeing the same skies in the Aegean that she did in the Pacific, and once she was married she would have access to things like her own guards, her own law-making, and her own authority. She could make a difference for the people in the Aegean sea in a bigger way than her meager charity trips to the reefs. Of course, while it would be a large change, he understood Titus in some ways. The younger she was married, the more she would be able to grow into her new kingdom. It was a wise match. Everyone in his contingent said so. Apparently this Eel prince’s father was the sort of general any soldier or guard could respect, and yet, Adin couldn’t bite back the pain that threatened to stifle his gills.

Adriatta watched him curiously as he cringed at Aya’s answers to her father’s questions, and then moreso at Aya’s paltry attempts to delay the suit.

When the throne room doors were opened once more, Aya swam out ashen-faced and alone.

He cleared his throat.

“Congratulations, Aya,” he said, throwing on a smile. “You’ve probably been waiting for this news for ages!”

She still didn’t answer, drifting past him into her room without a sound. Queen Adriatta didn’t try to stay with her as long as he did, seeming to recognize her despondency for what it was. Still, Adin had to try.

“There might be an escort from the kingdom to take you to the Aegean once the suit is done. I’ll be sure to volunteer!”

She didn’t answer.

“Is there anything you’d like me to collect from the reefs?”

Still nothing.

“Your friends there will be so excited. They’ll write. I’ll write, too, if you want.”

Silence.

When she closed her bedroom door to him, it was as though she was looking right through him.

Beside his fins with worry, Adin found himself unable to leave. He swam back and forth wondering why protection hadn’t been posted outside her room with the security in the palace so low. Sure, there were other priorities with the out-of-sea guests arriving, but forgetting to protect the princess that the celebrations were for?

Adin was still the lowest-ranking of his contingent, but in that moment, he vowed to have a word with his captain.

*

By the time Adin had returned to Aya’s room—this time with orders to guard it himself, if he was so concerned for the princess’s safety—he found it empty. He was about to swim through the palace looking for her, when he heard voices coming from down the hall.

He should have stationed himself outside her room and just waited, but he didn’t. Upon hearing the low, unmistakable timbre of Ezra’s voice, Adin turned and hid. He tucked himself behind one of the long seagrass curtains that had been hung over the glass walls to darken the palace at night.

To his horror, he saw Aya’s unmistakable red and blue tailfins right next to King Ezra as he escorted her to her room, and waited until the door closed. Adin held his breath, hoping against hope that the black king would just swim away.

Ezra turned to go, and Adin willed his heart to stop beating as the king passed the curtain where he was hiding—and stopped. For a few frozen heartbeats, Ezra paused, the furl of his tentacles just in view from under the curtain, when he let out one low, guttural chuckle, and swished away. The curtain fluttered in the current that Ezra left behind.

Adin’s face burned. He hated Cecaelia; the monsters who could see in the dark. He hated being played with! He hated that he’d hidden, when he’d had every right to be stationed here. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He would also do no such thing, when his job was to push aside the curtain, and post himself by Aya’s door like the lucky guard he was, who got to stand by his princess.

He was about to do just that, when another voice echoed down the hallway.

“Princess Aya?” Marlin was floating down the hall. Adin froze a second time. Marlin had already seen him make enough mistakes that day, and he didn’t feel like running into him again.

“Aya?” the advisor called again.

Why were so many people keeping Aya from sleeping when she was so clearly upset? Could no one else see it? Adin growled to himself.

Slowly, as though the door were three times its actual weight, Aya opened her room to Marlin.

“Evening, Marlin,” she said limply, and the sound broke Adin’s heart.

“Might I come in, princess?” Marlin asked gently. “Don’t think I don’t know when you’re upset, and this one…well today was a big one for any princess. I remember how your sister Adrea took things when she went to her first suitors’ ball. You’re not the first of your sisters to be disappointed.”

Marlin swam into her room, already yammering about old memories, and Adin could hear his attempts at cheering her up.

At least she listens to him, he thought.

“I might be old, Aya, but I can see heartache when it swims in front of my shell, and your cecaelian friends there, well, I might not like it, but they certainly treat you better than some of the suitors I’ve seen come for your sisters.”

Adin’s ears pricked.

“You haven’t told my father about them, have you?” Aya blurted.

Adin felt his jaw drop as a laugh rumbled through Marlin’s shell from the other side of the door.

“Poseidon’s beard, no, child! Just like I didn’t mention your little trip to the shipwrecks today to save both our heads! But you shouldn’t assume that he doesn’t know. All I’ve told him is who keeps escorting you home when you run off. He might not like it either, but even he won’t turn down responsible work.”

Of course, Marlin would only tell the king about the good cecaelia who protect his daughter… Adin gritted his teeth. —Even if he’s not wrong, he added guiltily.

Adin stopped gritting his teeth, realizing that he was missing what was being said, just in time to hear Marlin say:

“What I can do, princess, is give you an extra set of invitations for the suitors’ ball.”

Adin’s heart skipped a beat in hope. He hadn’t received his orders yet for the ball, and there was still time to get the evening off. If he could dance with Aya before her engagement was announced, it would be a dream come true. Perhaps after all these years it could even spark something, and if his luck was good enough, it might even be enough to get Aya to deny the prince’s suit.

“How will that help? Aya said miserably, and as she spoke, Adin got himself in check, although his youthful heart still hoped. Before he knew it, he was creeping out from behind the curtain, and pressing a shameless ear up to the door.

“Engagement balls are open to all the eligibles of the kingdom. Surely you can think of a few mer-folk from the outer rings who would want to come.”

Adin wanted to burst through the door and offer his services immediately. If Aya wanted a friend at the ball, he was here. Right here! But, he could already hear the doubt in her voice when she said:

“The last time Kai went to a ball, he was escorting the merchants. He was grumbling about the stuffiness of it all for a week, and Krill…I don’t know if Krill would even like it. Something makes me doubt Kai ever taught him how to dance.”

Any childish hope Adin had let bloom was abruptly dashed.

Of course he wasn’t the first one on her mind…

“Show up to the suitors’ events, Princess Ayalina. Meet your prince and behave properly tomorrow. Do that, and I’ll deliver their invitations myself.”

There was reluctance in Aya’s voice, but the temptation of seeing Kai and Krill in the palace was enough to get her to agree to those terms.

She was being bribed not to resist! Couldn’t she see that!?

He could have cried out in frustration, and found himself wiping away salt from his eyes when tears threatened to form. He was one of the High King’s guards, he told himself disgustedly. Crying over a princess that he’d known for years would be promised to another kingdom was ridiculous. Absurd. And then just like that, Marlin was leaving Aya’s room.

“Adin?”

Adin stopped rubbing his eyes, and abruptly snapped to attention, but it was too much to hope that Marlin hadn’t seen what he’d been doing. Again, he felt his face burning in shame, and he nearly choked on his anger. He hadn’t exactly meant to eavesdrop, but here he was again, being caught by the king’s advisor doing something no guard should ever do.

“Marlin,” Adin greeted hoarsely, hating how his voice cracked. “Stop!” he cried, when Marlin began to chuckle.

Adin turned away aggressively, not wanting the crab to see anymore, he was about to swim away, when Marlin caught his tail gently with his claw.

“Swim with me a bit, won’t you?” Marlin asked. “I’m not laughing at you, boy. Don’t you know you have to laugh in the face of heartache? If you don’t it will claw at you from the inside out, and I know a thing or two about claws!” the turtle brandished the end of a flipper at him where his tiny brown claws shone in the moonlight.

Adin gave him a weak smile.

“I’m on duty tonight, Marlin.”

“The king’s advisor can relieve any guard he likes. Come along, it won’t be long.”

Although he wanted nothing more than to be alone right now, even he knew that would only make him more miserable, Adin followed. Marlin waited until they were several windows down from Aya’s room before breaking the silence.

“You know, when I was a young turtle, I was in love with a blue-shelled leatherback with the loveliest eyes in the Pacific,” said Marlin with a far-away look. “I sent her every blue shell I could find. Conches, periwinkles, dyed ammonites. Spent a fortune on the loveliest ones at market, and let me tell you, she was worth every one.”

“That’s…I suppose that’s romantic,” Adin said, as they wandered through the sloping, empty hallway as the palace prepared to sleep.

“I thought so!” said Marlin with a happy grin. “She, however…well, turns out she thought I was making fun of her coloring. Hated me more with each passing day.”

Adin choked. “What?”

“Indeed. She eventually moved out of the capital with the rest of her family. I never saw her again.”

“Marlin, that’s—that’s—” Adin had no idea what to say.

Marlin nodded, as though he understood. “See, the thing is, even though a heart might take a crack or two from the waves of experience, understand that love is a vast ocean, and sometimes we must navigate through turbulent waters before finding the right current. For me, my current brought me into new friends and into new positions here at the palace. Finding all of those shells for Azule brought me connections I never could have dreamt of, and eventually put me where I am now.”

Adin shook his head. He never pictured the old turtle in love, much less envisioned him willing to send a near-stranger a copious amount of gifts. He wouldn’t be above trying that tactic himself if it so clearly hadn’t been effective.

“I thought you were going to give me advice on how to win,” said Adin, feeling the tiniest bit betrayed.

“Lad, even if this position gives me more stress than an old turtle can stand some days, one current brought me to another current. Just like that, with time, you emerge from the battle against the elements stronger and wiser, and ready for more,” Marlin said with a sage twinkle. “If this venture doesn’t work, then there will be another thing in your path. Just wait for the current.”

“Your love advice is terrible, Marlin,” said Adin grumpily.

Marlin gave an incorrigible laugh. “That it might be, but did you feel a little better listening?”

Begrudgingly, he gave a grunt of affirmation. Listening to the old turtle’s woes actually had made him feel better about his own. Aya had a royal suitor, but at least she didn’t hate him.

Adin looked around the hallway, realizing that he’d automatically swum his way toward the bunks. The bulletins for the palace guards were already in view. Was Marlin… was Marlin trying to put him to bed?

“Young Adin, Mer-folk mate for life,” said Marlin seriously, “If the love is one-sided, then she isn’t it for you. It might be the hard truth, but you have yet to find your mate. Until you do, it’s a whole ocean of possibilities, and as a good friend, if you stay one, you can rest assured Aya will never forget you.”

Adin opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t had enough time to persuade Aya to love him—that if he’d only had more time…but he didn’t have the words. Something in him was telling him that Marlin was right. He tried hard to stuff that part of him down where it would be muffled and hopefully disappear.

“That’s not…completely what I’m worried about,” Adin grumbled. “I want to find a way to make her notice me. I mean, she notices me, but I want her to look at me like…”

Like she looks at Kai, he thought, and then: She’s practically engaged. To a prince.

Marlin had a knowing look in his eye as those truths sank their way into his stomach. “It won’t hurt so much sooner than you think. In fact, I believe she hasn’t realized how much she will miss you because she gets to have more time with you than other friends. Give her time to process the surprise of today. I suspect she will need as much support as she can have in the coming week, no?”

Adin’s conscience tweaked a bit at that. He’d really made a cod of himself today.

Aya’s reaction today told him that she was struggling with the news more than he, and the changes coming to the royal family would affect her future far more than his own. His fins turned down in shame as he realized that he hadn’t thought of her feelings at all. Perhaps Marlin was at least right about one thing—the currents were changing. Although he wasn’t exactly ready to jump up and celebrate, he could at least support Aya in her coming alliance as the guard he was trained to be.

“Now, if you’d like to be relieved of your duties, I can certainly—”

“No, Marlin, thank you.” Adin drew himself up to his full height. “I signed up for that post tonight, and like you said. She needs support.”

Marlin waved a flipper in acceptance.

Adin darted away, back to his post. Marlin was right. Aya did need support, and he was ready to sign himself up for any shifts that might put him near her.