Page 14 of A Kingdom Restored

“Did you find anything?” she asked eagerly. “About an Elric and Elminia from Hemssted?”

Emil made a non-committal noise. “Possibly. The census records in the restricted records room were mainly from generations past. Nothing that related to anyone our age, for example. But I did find accounts tracing the major families of Hemssted, in light of what we learned from Oliver about family names.”

“And?” Merletta pressed.

“Well, there’s a family line by the name of El which was highly influential, at least at the time of the most recent census. Your father’s supposed name, Elric, could come from that family.”

“I wonder if the family is still around,” Merletta said, a shudder running over her. The idea of finding her family was as terrifying as it was tantalizing.

“They are,” Emil said. “I did some digging.”

She stared at him. “How likely do you think it is that my father came from that family?”

He shrugged. “I would have said it’s just as likely that it’s a name from a family not high-born enough to have a true family name, except for your mother’s name. Unless she had a name starting with El by coincidence, her name being recorded as Elminia suggests Elric came of a family with sufficient standing to claim the name for those who marry into it.”

“And my mother’s family?” Merletta swallowed. “By Oliver’s description, a son would be named with El for his father’s family, but a daughter would be named for her mother’s family.”

“Meaning your mother was Merminia before her marriage,” Emil nodded. “I didn’t find her specifically mentioned, but I did find a family line of Mer. It was listed some way below the El family, suggesting it was of inferior status to them, although presumably still quite prestigious in the scheme of Hemssted society, to be recorded among the high-born families at all.”

“And are they still living?” Merletta asked.

Emil shrugged. “I couldn’t find anything definitive about that. The family record I examined in the census section suggested that the Mer family was dwindling over the generations rather than growing.”

Merletta ran a hand over her braid. It was a lot to take in.

“Thank you, Emil,” she said softly. “I hope you know how much I appreciate the risk you took in investigating the matter for me.”

“I was glad to do it,” Emil said, in his usual grave way. “Safer for me to ask those questions than for you to do it.” He paused. “And I sympathize with your situation,” he added unexpectedly. “You are remarkably self-possessed for one your age, in your position. But much as you might know who you are and where you wish to go, there is great value in knowing where you come from. It would be foolish to deny it.”

“I don’t deny it,” Merletta agreed softly.

She didn’t try to articulate the complicated tangle of thoughts that hid behind the simple words. Recognizing the relevance of her origins was one thing—but which origins really mattered? The world she’d been born into, or the one in which she’d grown up? She was fairly sure she knew which one had shaped her more, and colored all her experiences.

“I can see you need time to process it all,” said Emil. “I certainly have no desire to press you. But if you wish at any time for assistance in locating the living members of either the El or the Mer families of Hemssted, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you,” said Merletta earnestly.

She sat for several long minutes after Emil swam away, her thoughts scattered. Eventually she rose, drifting from the dining hall with a destination in mind.

She wasn’t ready to seek answers from any living merpeople yet. But she’d rarely even entered Hemssted, and that felt wrong all of a sudden, given how much her thoughts were centered on the place.

Perhaps her rest day would be well used in wandering its streets, trying to understand not just where she came from, but where she might have come from, if the ebb and flow of the tides had carried her to a different fate.

Chapter Five

Rekavidur stretched out across the edge of the rocky clifftop, his tail dangling down the sharp drop. He felt…not impatient, exactly. That was much too human an emotion—not befitting a dragon within reach of immortality. But restless, perhaps. He hadn’t doubted Heath would offer him sanctuary after his elders exiled him—he didn’t doubt it still. But he hadn’t anticipated Heath’s absence from his family’s seaside manor being so prolonged. With the use of his farsight, Rekavidur could see that his human friend remained in Bryford still, showing little sign of leaving. He was no doubt worrying about the fate of that headstrong, foolish brother of his.

Percival really was incredibly tiresome. Would it truly trouble Heath’s family so much if his life were to be cut short by a few paltry decades?

Rekavidur found it incomprehensible, but it was clear that Heath felt strongly about the matter. Human emotion was blinding, it seemed.

It was also mildly inconvenient for Rekavidur, who had not expected to have to spend his isolation from his kind in true solitary state. But he had no interest in hanging around the capital while Heath sorted out his affairs. He would await his human friend near the manor, and hope the months didn’t drag too tediously.

Rekavidur shuffled his head forward on the rocks, so his snout hung over the edge. It was, after all, a pleasant place to wait. He liked to smell the salt of the sea in his nostrils.

Suddenly another scent trickled in, and he narrowed his eyes. What was that faint, strange magic? He’d felt it before.

He lifted his head, sniffing the air more deeply. It was familiar, no question. Was it the power of Merletta’s kind? But surely she hadn’t returned. He and Heath had been very clear about the danger when they’d spoken on Vazula.

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