Page 23 of Midnightsong
Angie stopped short when a young woman stepped out of Bàba’s office, and Stefan made a noise of surprise as he skidded to a stop behind her.
It was the young woman, Celia, who had lost her mother in the war, drowned by the mer, and who Angie had lost touch with months ago.
Celia closed the door behind her, dressed in her light blue parka, a stack of papers in her hands. Once the two women’s eyes met, Celia’s mouth fell open, and she stepped back. “Angie. When did you get back?”
“Visiting for the weekend.” Angie furrowed her brow. “How have you been? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”
“I’m alright. Went back to school and working here.” Celia dug one of her booted toes into the concrete ground. “Part-time. Reminds me of my mom.” She raked her gaze to face Angie again. “But I have to go. Nice seeing you. Hi and bye, Stefan.” Before Angie could reply, Celia turned and walked away.
“Nice to see you too,” Angie said softly, taken aback. She was hoping Celia would stay and chat with her, at least until Bàba was ready, but the other woman hadn’t seemed interested. She checked in on Celia every now and when she first left for school, but the two had lost touch over the last year.
Yet Celia was at the place where her mom, Eva, passed two years ago, and Angie didn’t blame her for acting so abruptly. Grief had no timeline.
At six thirty in the evening, the sun was taking its leave and making way for the moon to emerge. The skies were awash with purples, reds, yellows, and oranges, casting a dark haze over the choppy seas a distance away from her.
“I’m going inside for a bit,” Stefan announced. Lost in her own thoughts about Celia and the papers she would look through later, Angie gave him an absent nod.
She took some steps toward the shore, finding herself by the aquarium warehouse, swaths of fish in the tanks inside. Tanks that once held Aurora and Cyrus and other captured mer. The memory made Angie shudder underneath her winter getup.
She was forced to watch Cyrus mutilated not far from there on Nick’s orders before he was speared to death by Serapha’s sentinels. Angie swallowed hard, fighting back the deluge of emotion the memory brought back.
“Beibei, you ready?” Bàba’s voice sailed to her, and she jolted, snapping out of her reverie.
“Yeah.” Her voice shook as she turned around and rushed to meet him and Stefan.
Angie checked online for her flight back to Seattle before they reached Creston, before losing Wi-Fi.
She had hit ‘confirm check-in’ a moment before Bàba drove his Toyota Tundra into their village entrance. As she suspected, her reception bars went from three to ‘SOS only’, and after a slow, careful drive down their snowy single-lane road, they were home.
At least she had her fuzzy, bunny slippers, and after slipping into them and bringing the folders from the storage room upstairs, she pulled out her seaflute from her shoulder bag.
Bàba was still downstairs, and Mia, Jack, and Rosie wouldn’t be there for another hour. Angie left her door ajar, sitting cross-legged on her bed with the seaflute. A low humming emerged overhead as the boiler roared to life, followed by the slapping of Bàba’s slippers as he walked away from the boiler room.
Kaden answered the moment she had finished swiping the last Renyuhua character of his name. “Hi, my love.”
Angie laid the manila folders and binders, a mix of five in total, across the bed and pulled out her phone, opening the camera app to take photos of the papers. She could study them on the plane ride back and when she had a break at school. “Hey, you. Wanted to see how you were doing and how the funeral was.”
“I’m not sure,” Kaden replied. “The citizens are unhappy with me. My uncle—I don’t know. He’s doing his best to protect our queendom, and he says the right things, but Adrielle and Cyrus told me they had some concerns about him.”
“Like what?” Angie kept her full attention to him as he listed off their grievances.
“He wants revenge for my mother’s death,” he finished. “There’s explanations for all of their worries though.”
“Do you know if he’s planning to retaliate?” Angie’s heartbeat quickened. “So, we can prepare ourselves here.”
“No, he hasn’t mentioned any plans.” A pause. “Still, sometimes I think about what it would be like if I took the throne instead.”
Angie raised her eyebrows, though Kaden couldn’t see her. “Did you change your mind?”
“I know I made the right decision giving it to Uncle Saeryn. I’m not the right mer for it.”
Angie stared at the seaflute as if it were his beautiful face. “You don’t think you would make a good leader?”
“No, I would want to help everyone.”
“Huh?” Angie scratched at her temple. “Sounds like that would make you a great leader.” When he didn’t respond right away, she continued. “That’s not the real reason, is it?”
“I don’t feel worthy. I was only ever supposed to be a spare to swim in Cyrus’ wake. My mother and father always told me my job was to stay behind and support him.”
