CHAPTER TWENTY - Meela
The Effects of Iron
My first instinct upon opening my eyes was to gasp for air—but I couldn’t. I was underwater. The next thing I realised was that I could not move my arms. I pulled and heard the creak of a rope.
The world was dim. I looked around to find the glimmering surface a long ways up.
I was tied to a boulder, lying face down on its rough surface as though waiting for a guillotine to drop. And I was not alone.
A merman floated beside me, staring through blood-red eyes.
Thetis, I thought, recalling his name.
How long had I been out? Had he been staring at me like this for hours? I averted my gaze.
A familiar black longblade rested against another rock. Behind it lay my crossbow and quiver, bolts scattered in the sand.
The events leading up to this situation came rushing back. Lysi.
“Oh, no, no, no …”
My heart seemed to collapse on itself, the agony too much to bear. I pulled hard against the rope.
Thetis moved his lips. Was he talking to me? I heard the sound, but the words and meaning were hollow, not reaching my brain.
Another merman appeared beside him. Nestor.
How were the two of them here, free and unharmed? What was going on?
But I knew. My chest constricted, and I wheezed as though punched in the ribs.
The enormous, all-consuming presence of the serpent lingered, wrapping around me like a cloak.
Adaro was close.
He should have been dead. Instead, he’d killed her. He’d killed both of them. What he was about to do to me, I didn’t want to think. How had this gone so wrong? I’d been so sure of my plan.
A voice in my head roared, scolding me for thinking I could do this. What plan?
I hadn’t listened to her. My whole life, she had been my guardian. My love for Lysi had brought my ship home from the Massacre. It had saved my life when she’d turned me into a mermaid. Love had always led me in the right direction—so why had I let myself become this monster? I’d done exactly what she had been warning against: I’d acted reckless, too blinded by vengeance to consider a better way.
Nestor trembled, his eyes darting nervously.
“He says to leave her here. He’ll be by soon.”
“What’s keeping him?” said Thetis.
“The humans are flying overhead. They must have seen the serpent when he put it ashore. It’s back under now, but they keep circling.”
I strained against the rope, trying to either break it or wriggle free. They’d bound me so tightly, I couldn’t feel my hands.
“So he’s waiting them out?” said Thetis.
“Doesn’t want to move until they’re gone, in case they see.”
They looked at me. A moment passed in which we all seemed to be waiting for another to speak.
Nestor swam back and forth, pacing. “I heard they dropped something on the Nereid Peaks.”
Thetis tensed. “Did the prisoners get out?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Lucky. Don’t know why he’s keeping her alive. It’s giving the luna bin hope.”
Keeping who alive? Was he talking about me? But no—I had no idea what Thetis was referring to by the luna bin.
“If I had the serpent, I’d have done away with …” With a start, he seemed to realise what he was saying and snapped his mouth closed. His greyish skin paled.
Nestor backed away from Thetis as if retreating from a hungry shark.
“I only meant—if I were king—not that I think—” said Thetis, but Nestor shook his head.
Their fear leeched onto me, my pulse accelerating. I didn’t understand—why should I care about this merman speaking ill of Adaro? Then I became aware of the presence behind me. A dark, overpowering aura filled the water, blocking my ability to feel anything else.
I went instinctively still.
Adaro drifted into my line of sight, his focus on Thetis and Nestor.
Something about the black crown sent a chill through me. His red eyes popped against that reptilian skin. How had I possibly thought I could take him on? Even without the serpent, all the power I’d admired in Medusa was here in front of me—twice as large, a hundred times more terrible.
There was something else, too. Something that prickled my skin. Iron. Clutched in his fist was what looked like a broken, rusted pipe.
I glanced to the longblade on the floor, straining against my ropes with increasing desperation.
Adaro raised the iron rod to Thetis. Thetis flinched. But Adaro merely held it out to him, a calmness about his aura.
“Go on, then.”
“Y-your Majesty?”
“You think you can make a better king than I.”
“N-no, Your Majesty, of course—”
“But I just heard you, Thetis.”
“I meant—”
“Go on,” said Adaro. “I am making this simple for you.”
Nestor watched, still and silent, trembling worse than ever. Thetis looked from the iron rod to Adaro, and then around as though to ask for help.
“I give you permission, Thetis. Kill me. Stab it through my heart.”
Adaro kept the weapon at arm’s length, unwavering. His aura was calm, yet Thetis and Nestor cowered as though staring into the cavernous jaws of the serpent.
I saw no way out of this for Thetis. In another universe, one where he had not tried to turn Lysi over to Adaro, and one where my every emotion was not focused on the fact that I would never see her again, I might have felt sorry for him.
I watched with detachment as, slowly, Thetis reached for the iron rod.
Nestor made no sound of surprise or protest. He was so still, I would have missed him if relying on feel.
Thetis’ webbed fingers closed around the rod. His flesh hissed and sizzled. The smell hit me, bringing back the sensation of dread, of hopelessness, that had consumed me on the Massacre.
A large bubble left Thetis’ mouth. I wondered what he was going to do. Surely he wouldn’t do what Adaro said.
Maybe what came next was inevitable. He raised the weapon—and plunged the iron into his own heart. The sizzle was drowned by his scream. The pungent smell intensified. Blood leaked out around the pipe, clouding the water.
My heart leapt against my ribs as though trying to free itself from a mortal body. Adaro watched with indifference.
After a long, terrible moment, the life drained from Thetis’ eyes. Adaro approached the body and pulled the weapon free. He pushed the dead merman aside.
I flinched as the water stirred, and out of the murky blue appeared the serpent. Her eyes were fixed on Thetis’ body.
Everything darkened as her tremendous body curved around us. A silence descended so complete that a puff of air leaving her nostrils could be heard.
Gently, like a mother dog picking up her pup, her teeth closed over Thetis’ tail fin and pulled him closer. She opened her mouth.
I wanted to close my eyes but couldn’t.
With a movement too fast to see, the serpent’s jaws snapped closed over Thetis’ entire body. The pulse of water slammed into me, pushing me hard against the boulder.
Thetis was gone, and Nestor stared, open-mouthed, at the empty space. I was not aware that Adaro’s attention had turned to me until he spoke.
“This was an admirable effort on your part, Meela.”
Panic rose, but I met his gaze, determined not to look afraid.
“Do you know what my armies are doing this very moment?”
Keeping my voice even, I said, “They’re invading the Atlantic.”
Adaro tilted his head. He gave a peculiar smile. “Indeed. My last battle and then the oceans will be under the absolute crown, the way they were always meant to be. Medusa never understood what a true monarch should be.”
“You mean killing everyone who isn’t Utopia-born? Anyone who might not be prepared to die for you? You’re afraid of your own kingdom. It’s pathetic.”
I almost added the things I knew of Medusa—but a voice in my head that sounded like Lysi’s told me to be quiet.
Adaro snarled. The serpent coiled around the three of us, blocking the currents and casting us into isolation.
“As the absolute crown, I cannot have opposition.”
He circled behind me. A faint sting across my neck told me the iron rod was dangerously close.
“Opposition includes, of course, any organised rebel groups. I will happily spare you, Meela, if you tell me where the rebel group is.”
The sting spread across my shoulders, down my back.
I gritted my teeth. I thought of Nilus and Ephyra and all of my nieces. He would have to burn me to death before I turned anyone over to him.
“No.”
The sting intensified, like someone held a lit match against my skin. I bit my lip, forcing myself not to cry out.
“Then I want to thank you for this opportunity. It will enlighten you as to what your people have been putting my army through all these years. And, I suppose, you might understand what you put Lysithea through, what with that terrible, unsightly burn on her flesh.”
I thrashed, pulling the ropes until they groaned and threatened to snap.
“Think,” said Adaro, mock pain in his voice. “Think of all the suffering your rash actions are causing. Lysithea, and that goon, and now all of your people. You can be sure, Meela, that my next stop with the Host of Eriana will be her home. She will destroy every part of your island until there is nothing left but rock.”
My chest hurt so badly I could barely think. I couldn’t tell if the pain was from devastation or lack of air.
I couldn’t let him take everything and everyone away from me.
I wished desperately for him to transition into his human form. Why couldn’t it happen now? Why couldn’t the universe be on my side, just this once?
A thought ran through me like ice. What if Medusa had lied to us? What if her allegiance was with her son, and she’d purposely led us into this trap?
“My people beat you before,” I said. “They’ll do it again.”
Pain exploded across my lower back. It penetrated my whole body, digging deeper. It burned my skin, my blood, my bones. I writhed, screaming, unable to control myself. A singular thought ran through my head, desperate and consuming: Make it stop.
How could anything hurt this badly? How had I not passed out?
Abruptly, Adaro released the pressure. I heaved, trying to gasp for air that wasn’t there.
“That was before I understood my full power over the Host of Eriana.” His voice came slow, distorted, as though from the other end of the ocean.
The press of the iron was gone, but the pain stayed. I bit my lip to stop from moaning.
All those times I’d slain a mermaid—every one of them who died on the Massacre—was this what they felt? Was I the cause of this unbearable pain in hundreds of mermaids? I thought back to the first mermaid I’d killed—Panopea, Lysi’s cousin. I’d burned her face with an iron lantern. How could such a young child cause that amount of pain?
I thought of Lysi’s scar, how my own father had given it to her that day he found us on the beach. My eyes filled with tears.
“You have one precious thing left, Meela, and that’s your own life. You might as well tell me where the rebels are and save it.”
“No!”
He was wrong. My unconditional love for Nilus had never faded during all the time he’d been ripped from me—and now that same love filled me for my nieces. They were a part of me, my blood, my heart. I would die before betraying them.
I screamed before it happened. The iron rod jabbed the same place on my lower back. A pain like nothing I’d felt exploded through me, worse than a broken bone, worse than the torn and bleeding tissue I’d experienced on the Massacre.
I only had to say that one name, as Deiopea had done. Kori Maru. Saying it would end all this pain. But I couldn’t do it. For Nilus, for his family, and all of the Reinas. To say that name would be to put everyone there in danger. They were this war’s glimmer of hope. They were our chance of winning freedom from King Adaro.
Thinking of them kept my heart beating and my jaw clenched tight. I ground my teeth until my ears rang, refusing to let a single word pass over my tongue. Through the endless pain, I thought of my parents and friends on Eriana Kwai, who had shown me love and compassion through the most difficult moments of my life. I thought of Lysi. I thought of the day we’d met, and the way our hands had lined up perfectly, like two halves of a broken stone. I remembered the shade of her eyes, the sound of her laugh, the smoothness of her skin, the purity of her heart, and the way I felt when it was the two of us together—like the world was perfect and peaceful.
Abruptly, Adaro stopped and whirled around. He squinted into the distance. Someone was coming.
A young merman jetted towards us at top speed. He skidded to a halt with a blast of bubbles that hit me in the face. He clutched his chest, mouth opening and closing.
“Your Majesty. It’s Utopia.”
Lying limp on the rock, I fought past the spots in my vision. I couldn’t find the energy to lift my head. My whole body felt too heavy to move.
Needles tingled in my hands. I wiggled my fingers. Even in my stupor, I understood the sensation meant blood was flowing back into them. The ropes must have loosened a little in my struggle.
While Adaro was distracted, I worked my wrists. I was able to twist them better than before.
“Is it another explosive?” said Adaro.
“No. It’s—” The merman choked on his words. He glanced around at the serpent.
“Speak!” roared Adaro.
“Y-your Majesty, it was an army. Mostly southern.”
Adaro’s temper rose, prickling the surrounding water. I worked my wrists faster, feeling the ropes strain and loosen. It took every bit of strength to keep moving, when my body wanted to collapse from exhaustion.
“They have overthrown the g-government,” said the merman. “Nemertes is d-dead.”
Southern army. Utopia. Nemertes dead. Did this mean what I thought?
I curled my fingers over the bottommost loop of rope on my right hand.
“W-we have summoned the nearest army, Your Majesty, and they will be coming from the Ice Channel—”
“Obviously! What about the south?”
Before the merman could answer, someone shouted in the distance. Then, several things happened at once. The merman turned to look. Adaro whirled back to me. A high-pitched squeaking filled the water—and I tugged loose my right hand.
My heart gave an enormous leap, pumping adrenaline through my veins. Adaro’s crimson eyes widened. In his moment of surprise, I untangled my left wrist with shaking hands.
Adaro roared. He swung the iron rod at me, slicing the water so close that I felt a sting across my waist.
I tore free and lunged for the longblade on the floor. My fingers closed around the hilt and I flipped over, swinging with all the strength I had. Adaro sucked back—and then the current churned. The serpent was coming to help her master.
This was not the time to try and fight. Without a thought, I shot away as fast as I could.
The high-pitched chorus became louder—squealing, chirping, whistling, like a flock of birds.
Someone in its midst shouted again.
I had no time to think. I kept swimming, lungs aching for breath. I hadn’t had enough of a head start on the serpent, and she was much too close. I would never be able to outstrip her. I dove and slid into a groove in the coral, sharing the space with a rockfish.
The current pulsed as the jaws snapped at my tail.
“Blubberforce!” shouted the voice. At least, that was what it sounded like.
I swung the longblade at the serpent. It ricocheted off her snout. She grabbed it, snapping it in two, and tossed the pieces aside.
“Blubberforce, attack!”
I finally placed the voice. But it couldn’t be. Was I going mad?
The squealing and chattering grew so loud I had the urge to cover my ears.
The serpent snapped both heads around with a deep huff.
A rush of something blindingly white came towards us. They had long, lumpy, rotund bodies, squishy foreheads, tiny eyes, and mouths that seemed to curve in a smirk.
“Spio?!” I said, my voice a pitch to match the belugas.
The pod split, going wide around the serpent. Adaro, Nestor, and the messenger merman raised arms to fight but seemed unsure of where to swing.
Another voice rose over the din, familiar, feminine, blissful in my ears. “Mee, where are you?”
My heart swelled. Was this really happening? Pain and happiness and numb shock swamped me at once.
She pelted towards me, golden hair flowing among at least fifty white belugas. They engulfed the serpent like a large-scale swarm of bees. While not particularly quick swimmers, they were significantly smaller than the serpent and made tight turns and easy double-backs.
“Attack!” shouted Spio, raising his bag overhead.
Lysi found me in the coral and extended a hand. I seized it. She pulled me out.
“Lysi.” Her name came as a sob.
She shoved me towards the open water. “Go!”
“Lysi, how—? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine! Go.”
Past her, the leviathan snapped at the belugas. They zipped around her enormous body, spinning and chirping like this was all a game. Spio swam with them, pulling chunks of bloody meat from his bag and tossing them into their mouths.
Lysi forced me the other way.
My back stung as the water rushed over it, bringing tears to my eyes. I didn’t want to see what the wound looked like, picturing a black hole over my spine, torn at the edges—and then I had to stop thinking of it for fear of throwing up.
Adaro was trying to push his way out of the chaos. Spio threw dead fish at him so they bounced off his face. The belugas swarmed closer to catch the falling morsels.
“What about Spio?”
The serpent twisted and snapped, keeping Spio moving.
“He’ll catch up,” said Lysi. “Don’t stop.”
We kept swimming until the commotion faded behind us. The current still churned, but with the serpent thrashing so violently, I imagined such a scene would cause a stir in the water for leagues.
The floor rose, and we followed it to land where a cave opened, the surface pulsing with the tide. It was fully enclosed, the tiniest flecks of light peeking through the ceiling.
Lysi breached, panting. “Up here.”
I didn’t question her. We pulled ourselves from the water and further inside the dark cave. The clay was cool and smooth beneath my hands and tail. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Lysi.
“I thought … I saw you get hit in the chest—”
She shook her head. “Blow dart. It didn’t go deep. It had a sedative. They wanted to knock us out for questioning.”
I moved closer and reached out, tracing my fingertips over the place it had hit, searching for a wound. “How’d you get away?”
“Spio’s attack belugas.”
Tears flooded from my eyes. “I thought you were dead.”
I kissed her, half crying, unable to believe she was there.
She pulled back, eyes raking over me. “Mee, are you all right?”
I wanted to nod, but I couldn’t.
“You’re in pain,” she said, voice breaking. “What did he do to you?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”
Before she could say anything more, I turned around.
She let out a small scream. She seemed to try and speak, but instead dissolved into tears.
“Don’t,” I said. Her sadness was as bad as the pain.
“This is my fault—”
“How could it possibly be?”
“I failed you. It’s my job to protect you.”
I grabbed her wrists. “Lysi, it’s not. I know I’m new to all of this, but you can’t possibly think it’s your responsibility to keep anything from happening to me.”
She gazed down at the clay with puffy eyes. “I’m trying to understand everything Adaro has taken from you. I get it. I should have been more sensitive to that.”
“That wouldn’t have made a difference. This is my own doing. I haven’t been thinking clearly.”
Lysi drew a shaky breath and wiped an arm over her face. “I don’t think anyone has. Adaro is bringing out the worst in all of us.”
My face felt hot and swollen, temples throbbing in the early stages of a splitting headache. Neither of us could stop crying, the hitched sounds whispering against the cave walls.
“This is not the scene I hoped to pop in on.” Spio hoisted himself onto the clay and shook his hair like a wet dog. “Either way, it’s good to see both of you alive.”
He tossed my crossbow and quiver onto the floor beside us. “I only managed to save one bolt. He’s gone, though.”
“Spio, do you have that kelp pus?” said Lysi thickly.
Spio’s face fell. “Don’t tell me that lumpsucker …”
At Lysi’s expression, he hastily opened his bag and pulled out a squishy canteen. She asked me to turn around.
I flinched as she smeared the paste over the wound, gritting my teeth.
“Damn,” said Spio. “Was he trying to drill a hole right through you?”
“Spio!” said Lysi.
The paste had a cooling, soothing effect. Though it didn’t mask the pain completely, it eased the persistent burning.
Once it was done, the three of us sat side-by-side and stared at the pulsing surface. I curled my tail up and wrapped my arms around it like I still had knees. If this was a weird thing to do, Lysi or Spio didn’t show it.
“Why didn’t he chase us?” said Lysi.
“He’s going to Utopia,” I said.
“How do you know?”
“The Reinas succeeded. The government’s fallen.”
Lysi and Spio exchanged a look of surprise.
“We have to follow him,” I said.
When they gaped at me, I added, “We’ve got him. He’s within reach. We can’t lose track of him.”
“Mee, let yourself rest.”
“We don’t have time. I—”
I winced as a wave of pain coursed through my body. The last time I’d been in agony like this was on the Massacre. It felt a lifetime ago.
Then, too, I’d been determined for revenge, hunting sea demons to avenge Nilus. Was I going to let hatred keep consuming me?
My heart gave a squeeze as I thought of Nilus, who would be in Utopia right now with the Reinas.
“We have to stop Adaro before he gets there. This is our last chance to kill him.”
Kill. How many times had I said that word? How much more of my life would be dedicated to the act?
Medusa had said Adaro was out for revenge on humans because of his father. What had that reduced him to?
“He won’t make it,” said Lysi. “Feel the way the tide is pulling. It’s almost here. It’ll take longer than that to get to Utopia.”
Indeed, all of the currents seemed to be shifting towards land—and there was an inexplicable pull building inside me. I recalled what Lysi had said about king tides and imagined the moon trying to pick me up, to pull me closer.
“All the more reason to follow him,” I said, voice stronger. “Besides, his armies are on the way to help fight. This is it, Lysi. It’s king tide, and we need to make sure we don’t lose him.”
But something was breaking inside me. Battle after battle, I kept joining the fight, an obedient warrior. I was raised to massacre—to act on hatred. But what had gotten us safely home from the Massacre? My feelings for Lysi had been the driving force, not my need for revenge. Then, when we’d returned home, my blood had been the way to free the serpent—the blood of Eriana, the goddess dedicated to protecting the flora and fauna of my island.
I understood what Lysi had been trying to tell me. I understood what Spio meant after our encounter with the whale.
I couldn’t keep chasing revenge—not when compassion was so obviously my guide.
A deep, rhythmic thrumming sounded outside the cave. It grew louder, a mechanical groan pounding my eardrums.
It was the sound of a helicopter, large and low-flying.
“Do you think it’s looking for the serpent?” said Spio.
“Yes, and Adaro knows it,” I said. “He was keeping the serpent low in the water.”
The sound grew louder until it was directly over our heads, and then faded into the distance.
“We need to guarantee lasting peace,” I said. “Both underwater and with humans.”
“But how?” said Lysi.
Like she’d been trying to tell me, this had to be about more than killing Adaro. We had to take care of the Pacific Kingdom, especially with the world fighting against it.
“We can't get rid of him and then leave the kingdom in anarchy. His armies will still be on the move, his civilians still living under his shadow. We need a new king or queen to take his place, someone the kingdom will follow and respect, and who’s willing to negotiate peace with humans.”
“What about Queen Medusa?” said Spio.
“No,” said Lysi and I together.
Spio raised his hands in surrender.
“Evagore,” said Lysi. “I agree with the Reinas. She’s the rightful queen of the Pacific. Don’t you think? She ruled long before Adaro came. She’s the one we need on the throne.”
I nodded slowly. “Ideally. But we don’t know if she’s even alive.”
Lysi sat taller. “Oh, I haven’t been able to tell you. She is. Nestor and Thetis were talking about her.”
“She’s back on the South Pacific throne?”
“No. Held captive somewhere. They wouldn’t tell me where.”
That was a start. Theoretically, we had a queen. We just had to find her. The prospect was daunting—but at least she was alive. Maybe the Reinas had an idea where she was now that they had overthrown Utopia.
“Right,” I said. “A monarch is one thing, but we need to make sure Utopia holds an election to decide on the government. Everyone should be able to vote.”
Lysi and Spio looked surprised.
Heat rushed into my face. “Oh. Is that not—? I’m sorry. I don’t know how merpeople—”
“No, it’s a great idea,” said Lysi. “It’s not something we’ve ever had.”
“Think everyone will go for it?”
“Of course they will,” said Spio.
A ray of hope passed between us. I felt calmer than I had in weeks. We had a plan. Now, could we find Evagore? Where would Adaro keep someone like her captive?
The water in the cave pulsed higher, trickling over the clay at our tails. The tide was pulling. We didn’t have long.
“We should go, buddies, if we want to track him,” said Spio.
No one moved. They both seemed to be waiting for me to go first. I wondered if they thought I was too weak to keep moving. The hole in my lower back seared, but my mind, for once, was clearer than ever.
I grabbed my crossbow and the single bolt. It would have to do.
Neither Lysi nor Spio had weapons.
“We’ll steal some, first chance we get,” said Lysi, reading my expression.
I took her hand. Her pulse beat a rhythm of fear—but there was something else in her aura. Excitement.
I gave her a tremulous smile.
We slid into the water and eased into the open, checking for signs of life and finding we were alone.
In the distance, headed towards Utopia, was the serpent’s immense presence. Adaro kept her long body undulating at depth, hidden.
My stomach churned to think what would happen if that helicopter knew exactly where the serpent was.