Page 1 of Of Rime and Ruin
Chapter one
Nahla
Thesun’snotup,and I’m already breaking the rules.
My sister’s rules, in my defense. Not mine. Silly rules likebe prompt for your royal duties, andno loud mouth noises at the table, andprincesses do not way-make in the wee hours of the morning, and, her worst one yet,princesses shouldn’t way-make at all.
But I can’t help myself. Especially when Winona saidnoso loudly.
Unladylike pastime, my golden-scaled ass. There’s nothing more refined than strapping myself to the head of a giant paddledrake and taking the city by its reins. Nothing more regal. Elegant.
If she wasn’t the beloved Queen of the Brine, I’d tell her to fuck off.
“Bring her westward. Steady, now,” Keen cautions. The old way-maker shifts next to me, his hand extended to test subtle changes in the current. Despite his weathered hands, silver-streaked hair, and the audible creak in his spine, Keen doesn’t act a day over forty, with more than twice the time under his gills.
We barrel through the water together, tethered in place where our mount, Ramona, tucks her head beneath the waterline. Keen makes the pose look effortless, his amber tail steady as he perches in the saddle, one hand resting against the colossal reptile’s slick skin to guide her path with his magic.
My tail slips and flutters as I fight the current, the system of leather straps saving me yet again from a tumble into the expanse.
Water ripples above us, parting where Ramona’s shell crests the surface like a living island. She’s the largest beast in the Sea of Adria—with a firm beak mouth that can crush mountains, four paddle fins each the length of several dredgebeasts, an armored underbelly as thick as a palmwood is tall, and a poisonous lashing tail at her rear.
The Brine City of Ramona, my home, is built on the back of an ancient paddledrake of the same name. Where she goes, we all go. As way-makers, it’s our job to direct our living vessel.
Travel is slow, but it keeps the city dry. We could submerge Ramona, as we sometimes do for stealth, but that requires securing several districts to prevent loss of inventory in the open ocean.
The horizon stretches in all directions, isolating us in the center of the sea. Why should we hide? No other kingdoms dare swim this far into open waters without a protector as formidable as the Brine’s. They hitch a ride on fleetwhales, keeping to the safety of the Intercurrent, or they never venture out at all. The Coral Kingdom clings to their colorful beaches, Estuary to their kelp forest. Frost hasn’t shown their faces in a generation, and the Abyssals rot in the depths of the Drink. The Kingdom of Sands—if it exists at all—only appears in whispers.
But I belong to the Brine, the Kingdom of the Brave. I won’t be caught land-bound until I’m dead and dissolved.
I nod to Keen, acknowledging his direction. There’s a swarm of sunfish to the west. We’ve been tracking their scent all morning. In the murky blue water, I spot the glint of their golden scales.
Magic unfurls in my stomach, coiling at the command of my Voice. I activate my spell with a clear alto note and reach with my mind. Ramona’s conscience is as ancient as the sea—vast but chaotic. It feels like swimming through jelly. Her thoughts are slow and emotional, untainted by the lesser worries of merfolk. I weave through her psyche until I locate the center of her being.
She grunts, and her great eye rolls to stare at me. I smile at her, pressing my hand to her flat brow bone.
Westward, Ramona.
Her thoughts color with understanding. She tilts, and my stomach dips at the shift in position. The sunfish center in my line of sight, their sailfins cutting through the water.
“Excellent,” Keen says. I can hear the pride in his voice. “Now, lure the swarm. They should be close enough.”
I alter my song, reaching farther this time. Part of my mind lifts from my body and spirals forward through the water. The farther I push, the weaker my connection to the spell becomes. But the swarm is close enough now. I brush the simple minds of each sunfish, and they obey my command without fuss:Come.
With a flick of their tails, they turn. I strengthen my spell, drawing them toward Ramona for our hunters to collect.
If that wasn’t royal enough for you, Winona, I don’t know what is.This power—my style of Voice magic—is unique to way-makers. It lives in my veins; it’s mine to command. I can conduct a sea of thought with the fluctuations in my song. My sister may play politics and parades, but this is real talent.
I’m an integral part of the system that keeps our society churning forward. This isimportant. Beneath the waves, Imatter. Sunfish don’t care if my hair is askew. I call, they answer; and the entire city feeds from my efforts.
I move the ground Winona walks on.
With a change in my tune, I coax Ramona to slow her pace. She flares her fins, and the city decelerates to a slow tread. The sunfish fill with curiosity as they approach the mammoth paddledrake. Compared to her, their bodies are like glowmites, insignificant flecks of glitter. Yet she hums in greeting—a deep rumble trembles the water—and they brighten with interest.
My stomach curdles, anticipating what comes next.
Around us, merfolk dive from their post on the Rim. Bubbles trail through the water where their sleek bodies cut the current. I see the hunters through each fish’s mind: stern faces and colorful tails. The bone tip of their spears angled to kill. The fish are wary, but not overly so. Ramona’s presence is too baffling for the fish to give the hunters any mind.
This is good. Meat tastes better when the animal never fears for its life. The hunters hit their marks with precision—kill shots through the eye.
