Page 13 of Midnightsong
“Yes, but it is customary for us to remind you of the rules surrounding such a decision.” The merman, Alasdair, looked at Kaden with glowing eyes the color of zircon. His stare made Kaden uncomfortable, and inadvertently, his tailfins curled and tensed. “Today is the final tidesday to decide.”
The answer came easily. “I do not. I decline the throne and allow my uncle, Saeryn, to ascend it.”
Allie carved something into her slate. “By your word, you concede of your own choice? You have not been forced, threatened, or blackmailed? If this is of your free will, then the throne will go to Saeryn.”
“Yes, I concede.”
“Finally, because you are a prince by birthright, you will retain your title unless the king strips you of it, or you renounce.” Allie put her slate down.
Kaden bowed his head in a show of respect, and they bowed their heads in return. He took his leave. There was still much to be done, and he would reconvene with Saeryn, Adrielle, and, if he was able, Cyrus, to discuss his mother’s funeral arrangements.
But he had to see her and say goodbye, even if she was with the Goddess now. He hadn’t been here for her during her last moments and pain arose in the back of his throat.
The abyssal caretaker’s quarters were a swim on a downslope outside the palace on the seabed below. He stopped short when he reached the rock face and swam inside, his tailfins dragging behind and settling to a still, vertical position beneath him.
The caretaker bowed in greeting and the two examiners at her side followed suit. His mother was the only mer in the quarters, floating upright against the side of the cavern in her open coffin. She was lifeless, pale, statuesque as she lies in her final resting place, dotted with rare pink, orange, and red seaglass.
Worse still were the puncture wounds in her neck and chest. Such a sharp, black contrast from when he last saw her. Vibrant, strong-willed, authoritative, the queen and mother he’d always known.
At once, the finality hit him. She would never see or have dinner or functions with her family again. Never see Libbi and Hadrien grow up. Never issue another order from her throne or address her people. Now she was with his father in Sanyue’s embrace.
“May I have a moment with her?” Kaden asked, voice thick with emotion.
Without a word, the caretaker and examiners moved away from the Mer-Queen and out of the cavern, and Kaden swam up to his mother. His gaze wandered to the roughshod ceiling to a small, rock protrusion above his mother’s head, and then to the gems adorning her coffin. Anywhere but at her, and it felt as if a jagged piece of rock settled in his stomach. His head swam like a small xiahuyu, swimming in circles, over and over again.
When the shock settled, he spoke. “Mother.” Two tidesyears of calling her that instead of her title and it still felt strange rolling off his tongue. Where was he to begin? “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. But I know you will find peace in the Goddess’ embrace, at Father’s side, and in your next life, whichever physical body your soul decides to settle next.” His lips snapped shut, his mind struggling with what to say next. What words were left to speak? He stayed with her in silence for several more heartbeats. “Goodbye. I pray Sanyue keeps you and my father safe.”
He called for the three mer outside to return.
Kaden watched as the examiners returned to their duties studying her wounds. “What have you found?”
“We are suspecting landwalker weapons, but we need to be sure,” the male examiner said. “The size and shape of Her Late Majesty’s wounds do not match our lances or spears or tridents.”
Landwalker weapons. A human did this. His eyes burned with tears, swept away by watery fingers.
His mother was gone. Assassinated. What it meant for their already shaky truce remained to be seen, and it would not surprise him one bit if the mer’s trust in the humans had been shattered.
His certainly had.
Five
Angie
Marine vertebrate anatomy class appeared tobe in full swing by the time Angie arrived at the main lecture hall that morning. Her classmates’ animated chatter bounced through the classroom walls and ceiling. Their marine biologist professor, Dr. Ty Williams’ lean frame stood hunched over the front podium, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, and fiddling with the projector. A massive grin was plastered from cheek to cheek.
Angie slid into the hard, plastic seat between Reesa and Leo and let her backpack slide off her shoulders. “What’s he so happy about?” She nodded toward Dr. Williams.
“He said there’s a change in today’s class,” Reesa said. “He seems really excited.”
Angie grinned. Dr. Williams was a young, green professor who graduated with top marks at Stanford University, with an infectious enthusiasm for marine biology and his research work at SMOSA, the Society for Marine Observation Studies and Activity, a government agency under the NSF. She powered on her laptop and pulled up the class syllabus.
January 18: Class Elasmobranchii series: Rays & Skates part I
“Wonder what this change in syllabus is.” Leo rested his chin on his clasped hands.
Dr. Williams’ microphone released a stream of high-pitched feedback, and Angie winced, the sound causing all the nerves in her gums to fire.
“Good morning!” Dr. Williams rubbed his hands together, turning on his projector. An image of—
