Page 3 of Secrets Among the Tides
“It is not I who you’ve insulted, but the blade's maker.”
I twirled the weapon, captivated by the movements as I asked, “Who’s the maker?”
“Why, that weapon was made by none other than the infamous Black Blade.”
I stopped, looking at him incredulously. “The Black Blade?”
The merman leaned his forearms against his algae covered wooden tabletop, pushing aside a range of dull silver blades as he did. His eyes were wide with brittle excitement that he didn’t want to contain.
“The Black Blade,” he repeated in darker tones. “The most wanted outlaw in the entire Kingdom of Thalassar. You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of him?”
I lowered the weapon to my side, feeling its weight suddenly very heavy. I blinked. “No, never.”
His smile was mischievous. “There’s a reason for all the extra security during the Selection and it’s because of the Black Blade. He was chosen once too, you see, if rumors are to be believed. But before he could be taken, he escaped, taking down some royal soldiers along the way. The first ever escapee in history.”
“Nuh uh.” But even as I said the words with disbelief, I leaned closer to him, captivated by his tale.
“No one knows how he did it, only that he did. They couldn’t find him afterwards. They say he moves as quietly as a shadow, as quick as a current. That whenever Selection comes around, he is there to help those chosen escape their fate. He’s a thief of the night, a whisper between the waves, and he’s made a mockery of the Royals on more than one occasion. No one who has seen him has lived to tell the tale. A hero to many, and a criminal to the crown.”
His words blanketed over me for a brief moment before I snorted. “Who just so happens to make weapons during his free time? Sounds too good to be true.”
An escapee? Certainly we would have heard about it by now. No, he couldn’t possibly exist, whoever he was, because once you were selected, there was no escaping it. You belonged to them, to the crown, and you would go off to war to fight and die for them. Whether you wanted to or not.
“Don’t doubt the existence of the merman of shadows. You’ll never know when you might need him to save your tail.”
I was about to mumble that his story was nothing but bullshark when the blaring of a horn had me turning abruptly.
All chatter ceased as one by one, every mer in the square turned to the dais. I felt my heart tumble inside my chest at the sight that greeted me there.
Several guards were floating atop the structure; they wore the colors of the royals they served, dark blue uniforms with black and gold trimming. One of the guards held a conch shell in his hands, the source of the noise. Another held up a very large, thick flagpole. The flag of Thalassar—a blue background with a golden and black hippocampus stitched on the front—was attached to it, flapping against the current.
There were two other guards, and between them they held a merman, a commoner from Lagoona. His head was hung low, so I had no way to tell who he was. Blood rose from his body in smoky tendrils before disappearing. His clothes were the simple rags of a workman.
When he lifted his head to look up at the crowd, shock rippled through us all.
It was the seamstress’s son, Christof.
“On this Finsday of the forty-fifth year of the Malabella-Oriana reign, I condemn this mer, Christof Ket, to death for the crime of attempted desertion, a day before Selection.” The guard holding the conch’s voice rang out loud and clear through the square. “Let this remind the rest of you that cowardice is rewarded only with death, and all deserters who are captured willdieat the end of a blade.”
As he said those words, the guard carrying the flagpole suddenly flicked the bottom of it, and out came the sharp, long point of a blade.
After a gesture from the guard who spoke, the two holding the merman came forward, hauling Christof before the center stage. My heart beat wildly, uncontrollably as they brought Christof to a kneeling position. There was panic in his eyes and his shoulders shook with sobs.
To be so young, for he was my age, and to die such a death… He’d tried deserting before the possibility of being called on to go out and fight. And he’d pay the price for his actions.
“In the name of the Queen and King and the entire Royal family of Thalassar, I condemn you to die.”
My stomach churned and bile rose high to my throat as I watched the guard lift the blade over Christof’s head.
I wanted to look away. Ishouldhave, but my eyes were wide, something in me couldn’t turn from this, even if I wanted to. My body, stiff in place, forced me to watch. A reminder of what could await, to fuel my hatred for the royals even further, and to fill me with fear. I knew I was playing straight into their hands…
And then the blade came swinging down.
And there was nothing but silence after.
Silence and blood.
“By the order of the royals, so it is done,” the guard said in a soft, but loud voice. “Long may they reign.”
