Page 1 of Fionn
Prologue
Fionn
The planet's eyes were set on me and all I wanted to do was swim away as fast as I could. Hiding under a bushel of algae sounded better than ever. Internally, I was shaking, but I desperately hoped that the matriarchs wouldn't pick up on my weakness. My greenskin quivered ever so slightly, both from my own anxiety and the currents created by my clutch-brothers' suppressed trembling. At least I was not the only one who was terrified. And at least I was not alone. My brothers were with me.
The Matriarchs were taking their sweet time, discussing our fate amongst themselves. Lamina, the oldest and supposedly wisest, was scrolling through the test data on her tablet, her cyan lips moving as she voicelessly muttered to herself. I wished I knew what she was saying. Was there hope for me, for us, or was all lost already?
Time oozed along as slow as a mud tide. Couldn't they have discussed this before we were called before the Matriarchal Panel? Maybe it was for dramatic effect. They knew as well as I did that millions of finmen around the world were watching. During the six days of mate selection, barely anyone worked. Everyone was glued to their viewscreens, waiting to find out which young males would be the lucky ones that mooncrossing. Until today, I'd been one of them. It was a spectacle that brought us all together in a week of entertainment, excitement and lots of snacks, yet it also reminded us of our dire situation. The Matriarchal Panel hadn't been installed for entertainment purposes. It was all about survival, pure and simple.
Lamina cleared her throat. A tiny row of bubbles rose from her wrinkled greenskin as she repositioned herself in her throne-like chair.
"The Panel has come to a decision," she announced gravely. "Fionn Arken-Clutch of Eynhallow, are you ready to hear our judgement?"
I was not. Not ready. Not ever. Thirty mooncrossings of waiting had not prepared me for this moment. My greenskin was now visibly fluttering in the current. I no longer cared that they could see how nervous I was. The decision had been made. The time to try and convince them of my worthiness was over.
"Fionn," Rainse hissed from my left.
I realised the Matriarchs were still waiting for my response.
"I am ready," I said gravely. A bigger lie had never been told.
Lamina pressed her thumb to the tablet before looking straight at me. Her emerald eyes – almost the same shade as my own – bored into my soul, searching for weakness. I was torn open, broken shards scattered across the ocean floor, while Lamina pillaged my deepest secrets and desires. She didn't bother putting me back together.
"You are unworthy." Her voice echoed through the brightly lit hall as her words cut deep into me. "We have found you unworthy of the honour of being assigned a mate. Tomorrow, you will go back to your assigned profession and continue your life as an unmated male. Your test results will be sent to you later. We are very sorry."
No, she wasn't.
It wasn't unexpected. Nobody I knew had ever been assigned a mate. It just didn't happen to finfolk like me. Yet there had been that tiny bubble of hope, a quivering current at the back of my head that cold logic hadn't been able to soothe.
I was to be unmated for the rest of my life. No female, ever. Alone. Always alone. My clutch-brothers would remain the only family I'd ever have.
I wanted to cry. Shout. Tear down this hall and its panel of old females who thought themselves above me.
Somewhere beyond my grief and rage, my clutch-brothers were given the same verdict. No mates.
We were shooed out of the hall by impatient guards. I swam blindly, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. I would not let them see my hurt. Once I was home, in our cosy underwater cave, I would let my emotions free rein. For now, I had to keep it together a little longer.
"Fuck them." Cerban swam up to me, his face mirroring my outrage. "We never stood a chance."
I laughed, my voice harsh and alien. "Of course not. If it wasn't enshrined in law, we'd never even been given the opportunity to be in front of the Panel."
"What now?" Rainse asked. He sounded more depressed than I'd ever heard him.
I reached out and grasped his hand, then that of Cerban. "Home. Let's go home."
1
Two mooncrossings later
Fionn
The catfish bumped against my calf, purring happily, then wrapped its tail around my leg. Its black scales rubbed against my skin, tickling me. An explosion of tiny bubbles leapt from its toothy maw, indicating just how happy the beastie was. I tried to ignore it and stared stoically at the crowds swimming past me. None of them paid me any attention. As always.
Guarding the Great Archives had to be the most boring job on the planet. There was no reason anyone would want to rob them. In fact, nobody seemed to be even interested in visiting. In the three mooncrossings I'd worked here, I'd seen maybe a hundred finfolk enter the building. None of them had looked suspicious. Nothing ever was. The only vaguely interesting creature here was the catfish that joined me for most of my shifts. Giving it part of my midday meal was the main reason for that. Catfish were notoriously greedy.
I checked my commband. Barely a third of my shift had passed. I cursed the Matriarch who'd assigned me this job. When I'd trained to become a guard, this hadn't been what I'd envisioned. I'd hoped for glory, battle, excitement, not a life of boredom outside a library nobody ever visited. The only time anyone approached me was to ask for directions. Aside from that, I was ignored just like the building towering behind me. Some days, I felt like a statue, turned into stone by sheer boredom.
Something scratched against my hip. I caught the catfish by its neck, preventing it from sticking its head into my satchel. It meowed in protest.
