Page 57 of A Kingdom Restored

Merletta’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what he wasn’t saying. “You don’t want the dragons to search and find your new safe haven,” she realized. It made sense. “But why haven’t you started the evacuation?” she demanded. “They could come any day. What if there isn’t time to get everyone out?”

“Everyone?” the Record Master repeated, sounding amused. “I will miss your quaint perspectives, Tilssted trainee.” Although he still spoke without excessive emotion, he pronounced the last phrase with a strange emphasis, as if it was a contradiction.

He glanced carelessly at the guards. “Her sentence will be pronounced in one hour.”

Chapter Seventeen

“One hour?” Merletta barely had time to protest before she was shoved into the holding cell and the door was latched behind her.

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. The Record Master had openly told her that he didn’t care as much for public opinion as he did for whatever scheme he was building to respond to the threat of the dragons. Having decided to be rid of her, there was no reason for him to delay.

But what was his scheme? The thought troubled her, worrying at her mind as the minutes ticked by. He hadn’t contradicted her guess about a safe haven outside the triple kingdoms. But he’d scorned her suggestion that everyone would be evacuated to this place. Was it only a backup, then? Did they have some better plan, something to give hope of holding off the dragons altogether?

“Heath,” she murmured into the empty water. “If you’re listening, or watching, or whatever it is you do…I think it’s very possible I’m going to be executed in an hour.” She winced. “I know that’s…awful for you. I wish…” She paused, struggling with a sudden rush of emotion. “I wish we at least had the chance to say goodbye. Or that there was a way to protect you from it. But I think I’m out of options. I’ve reached the end of the line.”

Strangely enough, the thought brought her mind around to her recently discovered family of origin. Her mother’s line really had reached its end, all but dying out. Her father’s line was still strong, but it wouldn’t continue through her. And likely wouldn’t continue at all, once the dragons wreaked havoc on them all.

Merletta thought of the account she and Sage had read, of the dragon attack on the fledgling mermaid colony near Valoria, and a shudder ran over her. It was a horrible image. The record described the dragons spearing merpeople through with a single talon.

But then, Merletta reminded herself bitterly, merpeople didn’t need outside help for that. The Center was plenty adept at killing off their own kind. Her own parents had been speared through the heart by Center guards just for exploring the idea of outward settlement. The Center would prefer merpeople to die than to let them go outside the barrier.

Merletta stilled in the water as the truth crept over her. That was the simple reality. The Center had held that position for years—for generations—and there was no reason to think it had changed. Nothing in the Record Master’s demeanor suggested that the imminent dragon attack had rattled him out of his usual priorities.

They weren’t going to help everyone get to a different, safer, location. Of course they weren’t. Because in spite of their claims, none of their rules or secrets had ever really been about keeping everyone safe. They’d been about control. The Record Master wasn’t even going to let anyone flee, because that would encourage the dragons to search the ocean, and possibly find the favored few holed up somewhere secure.

No, he was going to keep the inhabitants of the triple kingdoms—or at least the vast majority of them—trapped inside the barrier for as long as possible, in the hope that their slaughter would be a distraction for the escaping few.

Fury welled up inside Merletta, powerful and scorching. It was for this that she’d put her own life on the line to tell the Record Master what was coming? For this that she’d come quietly with the arresting guards, not resisting the consequences for her mistakes? She’d told him what was coming in the belief that he was best placed to give everyone a chance at survival. But instead he’d taken that knowledge and used it for his own benefit, even to the point of costing the lives of most of those under his influence.

That wasn’t leadership. That was tyranny—a worse sort of tyranny than even the disillusioned Merletta had believed the Center capable of.

She threw herself forward, letting out a shout of wordless rage as she rattled the bars of her cage uselessly. Andre had been right. She should never have come tamely, not when she knew the kind of tactics the Center employed. And she shouldneverhave been so foolish as to give any trust to the Record Master in averting the coming disaster. Telling him had seemed the honorable course, but all it had achieved was to create yet another barrier to everyone’s survival.

And now it might be too late for her to warn anyone else.

The guards had let others back into the lobby, but no one was coming near Merletta’s holding cell. The various Center employees went about their business, casting her the odd wary look, with no idea of the doom hanging over them all. Two guards floated to attention not far away, and Merletta had no doubt they would prevent anyone from approaching too close, or her from speaking to the passers-by.

Her best hope, she decided, was to use the trial, or sentencing, or whatever it was, to shout the truth to as many as she could, and hope that the news would spread. Surely if enough merpeople stormed the barrier, they could break through the restrictive presence of the guards. And the Record Master clearly still wanted her disposal to have the veneer of legitimacy. With any luck the hearing would be a dramatic, public affair.

But as she should have realized, Merletta’s luck had run out. At the end of what was possibly the longest hour of her life, Merletta’s hands were bound with twisted kelp rope, and she was led not to some large central square, but back to the training yard where she’d been arrested. It had been cleared of training guards, and only about three dozen merpeople were gathered to watch the drama, all three of her instructors included.

Ibsen’s eyes were narrowed, but he didn’t look gleeful as Merletta might have expected. He looked tense—she supposed he’d seen her dodge disaster too many times to feel really secure in her removal until she was actually done for. Wivell didn’t look at her at all, his expression neutral, and his posture formal. Agner, on the other hand, followed her progress so closely he seemed to be trying to catch her eye.

Merletta glanced at him, but she had no interest in the apology she saw on his face. There might be sorrow there for her fate, but there was at least as much resignation. Agner had always liked her, but although he claimed to enjoy seeing her shake up the system, he wasn’t actually willing to fight the status quo.

How absurd, Merletta thought in a detached way. Absurd for all these intelligent, well-connected merpeople to be sacrificing so much to preserve a status quo which was about to be wiped from the ocean by a colony of vengeful dragons. How many of those present knew about that, she couldn’t say, of course.

Her eyes sought friendlier faces, and she was relieved to see Sage and Andre hovering anxiously near the instructors. As painful as the coming scene might be for them, she couldn’t have borne to face this reckoning without anyone she trusted by her side. It wasn’t as though she was actually to be killed on the spot. The Record Master would need her to die out of sight if he wanted to claim he’d offered her life as forfeit to the dragons.

Emil didn’t seem to be with them, and Merletta frowned as she searched the crowd for him in vain. It wasn’t like him to be absent for such a crucial moment.

“Merletta of Tilssted.”

It was the Record Master himself who spoke, to Merletta’s surprise. He floated in the middle of the training yard, his fins at about the level of her face. Everyone looked up at him as he opened the proceedings, and Merletta felt another flash of anger. It was as though she’d never truly seen him until this moment. He’d been a master at staying in the background, not drawing unnecessary attention to himself. But that had all been a disguise for the truth, which was revealed in this moment—this merman’s pride was strong enough to sacrifice a civilization for himself. He had set himself up as a king, woven the whole civilization around himself as if he should be revered, never questioned, always obeyed. And from the very beginning, she’d upset the balance he’d created. He’d shown himself restrained so far, but no more. He was finally going to correct the mistake in his calculations.

“You have been found guilty of treasonous communication with dragons,” he said simply. “Your betrayal has put us all at risk. There is no greater crime.”

“On what evidence is she found guilty?” Emil swam suddenly into Merletta’s view, his voice clear and carrying.

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