Guests shot to their feet, shouting in alarm. A few glared at me as though I had lost my mind, disrupting the performance with my uncivil conduct.
“She has a weapon,” I warned Prince Yanxi.
He sprang up at once, barking orders to the guards to apprehend the dancer.
After a few tense moments, a guard ran toward us. His face was grim as he held out a cluster of sharp needles, glistening with the viscous remnants of a greenish liquid.
“Sea scorpion venom,” Prince Yanxi hissed. “It spreads swiftly, paralyzing the entire body. Too much would be fatal.”
The music had stopped when the dancer fell, leaving the hall in ominous silence. The guests exchanged confused glances, their mutterings no longer outraged, but anxious and urgent. The air shifted, taut with strain. Something thudded against the wall. Metal clashed, a bloodcurdling cry ringing out. Beside me, Prince Yanxi drew his sword. The doors were flung open, a guard standing in the entrance, his blue and silver armor streaked with blood.
“Merfolk! We’re under attack!”
A spear hurtled through his chest with a wet crunch, its tip now drenched with blood. The soldier’s eyes bulged as he lurched forward, before falling to his knees and keeling over.
Guests stumbled to their feet, overturning tables and chairs as they scrambled to the back of the room. Captain Wenzhi leapt down from the dais, his blade already unsheathed. I cursed that my hands were empty, but the prince stripped a bow and quiver from a nearby guard and tossed them to me. Plucking an arrow, I drew it through the string, its red shaft as hard and cool as stone.
“Fire coral. Merfolk are vulnerable to it,” Prince Yanxi said tightly, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword.
Assailants swarmed into the hall. Their armor was woven from small scales that gleamed like mother-of-pearl. They raced toward us, turquoise pupils bright, their braided hair flying behind them. Their fair skin was coated with an iridescent sheen as though I were looking at them through a pane of colored glass. My skin crawled at the sight of their curved swords, coated with the same venom as on the needles. Those cut by their blades froze where they stood, their limbs jerking unsteadily, their eyes wide with horror.
As Prince Yanxi rushed into the fray, a merman lunged at him. At once I released an arrow, striking the attacker in the shoulder. He fell to the floor, clutching the shaft embedded in his flesh. I hardened myself to the sight, to his gasps. Remorse, I could ill afford, as I shot arrow after arrow at the invaders—though I aimed for their limbs when I could. Captain Wenzhi would have rebuked me had he realized this. To him, an enemy was an enemy, and to show mercy in a battle was to leave your back unguarded. Yet I could not help wondering why the merfolk had risen against the Sea Immortals. I was learning that kings were not always as just as in the stories, and the mercy of gods was sometimes flawed.
Blood splattered the floor, and my palms were slick with sweat. My arrows plunged forth in a relentless stream, the agonized cries of those struck beating at my conscience. I forced my attention back to the weapons the merfolk bore, the harm they had inflicted. But for as many who fell beneath our arrows and blades, more poured through the doors. Our own forces dwindled as we formed a protective ring around the royal family and guests.
The merfolk’s eyes gleamed with anticipation as they closed in on us. They had the advantage; we were outnumbered. They raised their hands, the smell of brine thick in the air as torrents of water gushed into the hall. Captain Wenzhi flung his power out, shards of ice plunging toward the merfolk. Several fell, yet the water swirled higher, drenching our shoes and robes, swelling until a towering wave loomed above. King Yanzheng’s energy rippled from him, dispersing the wave—though others surged in its place. More and more, springing up around us until we were hemmed in by quivering walls of water, on the cusp of breaking and washing us away. A soft cry from behind pierced me, that of a child, muffling his fear. Was he Prince Yanming?
Grasping my energy, I summoned a wind that hurtled into the hall, arching over us like a translucent dome—glistening ice streaking across it as Wenzhi threw his energy alongside mine. Just in time as the waves fell, crashing across our barrier. I staggered beneath the crushing weight, my limbs aching as I fought back my exhaustion. Just when I thought I would collapse, Prince Yanxi’s power surged forth, sweeping the water up and hurling it over the merfolk.
Footsteps thudded, from a distance. I stiffened, bracing for a fresh onslaught as I raised my bow, my sore hands already drawing an arrow at the ready. More soldiers streamed into the hall, this time clad in the blue and silver armor of the Eastern Sea. I sagged with relief, lowering my weapon. The merfolk charged at the soldiers, fighting valiantly, but were soon overwhelmed.