I stare in stunned silence, fin gleaming against the sleet, the weight of two armies on my back. I wait like the dutiful daughter, for the sea foam to froth from her bones and melt her like the ice she lies on. Seconds pass with nothing but her oddly jarred body and the red, shimmering light of her eyes.
Nobody speaks. Time becomes something outside of the mountain, in the world below. Here there is only silence and the infinity that comes with waiting. It takes a lifetime before I finally hear a small shuffle of movement and smell the fresh scent of black sweets on the wind.
Elian crouches beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth. We sit like that for an eternity until, finally, the Sea Queen fades away.
43
Elian
THE RAIN COMES IN torrents, slicking my hair to my neck. The sun is still high, like a crescent half-hidden behind the clouds, creating a warp of colors in the air. My sister’s kingdom glistens somewhere behind me, though with our destination so near, it may as well be a world away.
In a sense, I suppose it is a world away.
“Not long now,” Kye says, clapping a hand on Madrid’s back. “Soon you’ll be able to enjoy me in my full glory.”
She arches an eyebrow at him, a smile well past coy on her lips. “Drowning, you mean?”
“No,” he says, with mock injury. “Soaking wet.”
Madrid eases his hand off with a frown. “I’d prefer the drowning.”
I grin at them and pull the compass from my pocket. The point spins madly in all directions, letting me know that Kye’s right. We’re near. Close to a place where truth and deceit mingle alongside each other like old friends. Where every word spoken is soaked in both and neither.
The Saad sprints through the water, and I walk to the edge of the ship as Torik steers a little to the left. Below, our guides keep the pace as easily as if we were trawling along in a rowboat. Their fins rainbow through the beaten water like prismatic arrows. Blurs and blends and hues creating a shield of color around my ship.
They swim with no effort at all, and I almost want to be insulted that the Saad’s pace is so easily matched. Instead I take it as a compliment. That the Saad can keep step with them is proof of her glory.
A few of the sirens break apart from the throng and head to the front of the ship, leading the way. As if I don’t already have it memorized. It’s a little funny to see them settle into these precariously carved roles so easily. Guiding sailors, rather than stalking their ships for signs of weakness. Helping, instead of hunting.
The Sea Queen has forged a new world, as much on land as in sea.
Once the eyes of Keto were reunited, creating a trident without limit, there were as many choices to be made as there were promises to be broken. Though one thing remained clear throughout it all: The ocean needed a queen. I spent a lifetime trying to evade becoming king, knowing that Amara would make a far better ruler – her heart staying grounded for every beat mine wandered – but even I understood that some things were more important than whim. Dreams could not always triumph over duty, and compromise was the foundation to any good peace treaty.
Lira knew it too. And so instead of exploring the world, she created a new one.
As Diávolos opened its waters and the sea kingdom of Keto threw wide its gates, the human kingdoms returned the gesture. At least, most of them. Peace doesn’t come easy, but over half the world has accepted the new order, and with the backing of the new Midasan queen and her roaming brother, hesitancy is becoming a thing of the past. New treaties are being struck, and after the initial dozen returned from the sea kingdom of Keto with their lives intact, others have made the journey to seek an audience with the Sea Queen. To offer trade alongside treaties and bask in the wonders of this newly unlocked dynasty.
Kingdom one hundred and one.
“Captain!” Torik bellows from above, signaling our arrival.
I don’t need his call, because I know the moment we cross from human waters into the seas of Diávolos. The water becomes an endless stream of sapphires, blending into the sky and catching every ray the sun scatters down. There’s no more rain, or darkness. It’s brighter than anything has a right to be, but not warm. Never warm. The sapphires are crisp and glacial, soaking into the tips of my fingers. Arctic blue glazes over us all.
Below, the sirens chorus.
We continue on until we reach the arch. Blue merges into dusty orange, and the rock formation towers to the height of a hundred ships. A marker for the world, to signal the kingdom of Keto below.
Stretching to the width of a mile, the arch is as much a gateway as any door. Ships tether to the large spikes that slice from its curve, empty, save for a few humans left to watch the decks in case of pirates. Though pirates seem to have become some of the most regular divers here and the sirens delight in their company as much as their queen does.