The Sea King by C. L. Wilson
Calivan arched a brow. “Dilys said you were quite gifted.”
“Dangerously so. I’ve kept my gifts suppressed all my life. It’s the only way I’ve been able to stop from hurting people by accident, but that’s not an option anymore. My magic has become too powerful to be bottled up all the time, and it replenishes at such a fast rate, I worry about keeping the pressure from building too high.” She regarded him hopefully. “Does that sound like a problem your magical studies can help me with?”
“I believe so. Just off the top of my head, I can think of several techniques we might try, and there are at least three ancient Sirens who were reputed to be extraordinarily powerful. We can probably find some mention in their journals about how they kept their gifts from harming those around them.”
They had reached the end of the spiraling tube and stepped into a building that had clearly been carved through the coral and directly into the steep, volcanic rock of the crater. The dark, pitted stone had been left rough in places, and in others had been smoothed and inlaid with gorgeous detailed mosaics depicting what looked like scenes from Calbernan history. Men and women swimming and hunting among the fishes. Erupting volcanoes spilling rivers of orange lava into steaming oceans. Ancient, gold-eyed women standing tall and commanding atop great stone promontories, holding out their slender arms towards the enormous white, foaming sprays of crashing waves.
The entire lagoon-facing wall of the spacious room was a bubble of clear glass, allowing for a spectacular underwater view of the crater, the expansive underwater portion of the palace, and the vibrant coral reef above. Near the glass wall, a wide moon pool carved into the floor provided direct access to the deep waters of the lagoon, so that Calbernans could swim in and out of the room at will.
Gabriella paused to drink in the underwater view of the lagoon. “This is beautiful.”
Calivan paused beside her. “Tey. The sea is one of Mystral’s greatest treasures. A secret world of unparalleled beauty that most oulani will never know.” After a moment, he turned and gestured to a door carved into the volcanic rock. “This way, Sirena.”
She and her two guards followed Calivan through the door. Beyond the door lay a large, windowless room carved deep into the black rock of the extinct volcano. Bookcases lined every wall and formed long rows that spanned the entire length of the room, each one crammed with books, scrolls and piles of paper.
“The archives of the Sirens,” Calivan announced. “This room contains every surviving historical record of the Sirens, including the texts from Calberna’s own libraries as well as all the documents we have . . . ahem . . . liberated over the last twenty-five hundred years from libraries and private collections across the whole of Mystral.”
“Impressive.” She wandered over to one of the closest bookcases and plucked a book from the shelf, leafing through the surprisingly modern-looking pages. “This one seems relatively new.”
“We have transcribed the older texts so their information is not lost. The most delicate of the original documents are kept in a special storage room in an effort to slow their inevitable decay.”
“Mmm. Smart.” She set the book back on the shelf and dusted her hands. “So, do we begin here, with you teaching me the history of the Sirens?”
“Ono. I will compile a condensed version of what information I believe you will find most useful. But first, I think we should begin by testing your magic, so I understand what we’re working with.”
Gabriella shifted her weight from one foot to another. It was ridiculous to be so nervous. Thanks to the Shout that had sent Trinipor into the sea, her magical reservoirs, while nowhere close to being empty, were still a long way from overflowing. She should be able to manage a few simple tests without endangering anyone.
Straightening her spine, Gabriella forced a smile to shove her nervous discomfort deep down inside. “Of course,” she said, pleased with the calm, cool, collected tone that gave away none of her jittery fear. She glanced around the full library. “Considering how valuable all this information is, however, I don’t think we should begin those tests here.”
Calivan gave a short bark of laughter. “Ono, I should say not.” A smile of genuine amusement curved his lips. “I have a private laboratory, where I do most of my experiments with magic. It’s just this way.” He began walking towards another door off to one side of the library, flanked by two of the four queen’s guards.
Gabriella glanced over her shoulder to make sure Biross and Tallant were behind her, and followed Dilys’s uncle.
“The Second Fleet will sail today. There’s still cleanup to be done in the Olemas. As for you, Ryll”—Dilys held up a hand to forestall the objection he saw brewing in his cousin—“I promised Khamsin of the Storms I would bring her sisters home. Once Ari is on his feet again, I want the two of you to return to Konumarr with the remains of the Seasons Spring and Autumn. You will be my envoys to Wintercraig, offering Calberna’s contract of alliance to our new family in the Æsir Isles. You will take the rest of our brothers with you. According to the terms of my contract, you are still owed a few weeks of courtship. My greatest wish is that you both will find lianas who can make your heart sing, as Gabriella does mine.”
“Unlikely.” Ryll smiled ruefully. “The Sirena is one of a kind.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Her Siren’s blood came from somewhere, after all.”
Ryll quirked a brow. “You think there could be more Sirens out there?”
“I think it’s a definite possibility. Which is why, when you and Ari bring the Seasons back home, I want you both to begin investigating. After Gabriella’s great Shout and our subsequent battle with Nemuan, we can’t assume her secret is still safe. Which means if there are others like her, they won’t be safe either. Many will want to claim that power for their own—and not just the magic eaters.”
“Magic eaters.” Ryll spat the words like a curse and paced beside the round window of Dilys’s palace office. Beyond the thick glass, bright tropical fish swam lazily amongst the coral reefs that lined Cali Va’Lua’s great lagoon. “I still can’t believe Nemuan sank so low. I still can’t believe he was the Shark, either! He was a Prince of Calberna—the son of a great Myerial. How could he betray us—betray his own mother! Betray everything he was raised to honor and protect!—in such a vile, unforgivable way?”
“He was grief-mad,” Dilys said. “The thought of an oulani woman—even a Siren—sitting on the throne that had belonged to his mother was more than he could bear.”
“It was more than just that,” a familiar voice said from behind.
Dilys and Ryll spun around. “Ari!”
Their cousin listed in the doorway. His arms, left leg, and torso were thickly bandaged. His broken right leg was splinted from ankle to several inches above his bended knee, and he was leaning heavily on a crutch tucked under his left arm. His dark bronze skin had a sallow cast, and deep lines of pain were etched from his nose to the corners of his mouth. He’d pulled off the bandages that had swathed his face, revealing a jagged patchwork of angry red wounds, the edges of which had been stitched together with black thread. The healers had already informed Dilys they could do nothing to prevent scarring, that Ari’s only hope of even minimizing it was to stay out of the sun for at least a year. As if that was going to happen. Though he and Dilys had once been mirror images of one another, no one would ever again mistake one of them for the other.
“What are you doing here?” Dilys jumped up and skirted around the edge of his desk, intending to rush to his wounded cousin’s side, but Ryll beat him to it, sliding a strong arm around Ari’s back and guiding him to one of the two large chairs in front of Dilys’s desk.
“Sit, Ari. Sit before you fall.”
Ari scowled, then winced as motion tugged the torn edges of his stitched wounds. “I’m fine, Ryll. Don’t fuss.”
“You shouldn’t even be awake, much less up and wandering around. Calivan was keeping you sedated to speed your heali
Ari collapsed in the chair, grimacing at the clear proof of his own weakness. “Nima’s sleeping. I needed to speak to Dilys, so I slipped the tonic Calivan meant for me into her tea. They won’t be happy with me, but at least my nima will get a few hours of rest instead of driving herself towards a Fade worrying over me.” He shifted in the chair, stifling a groan as his wounds protested.
Dilys clenched his jaw. This was his fault. He’d made his cousin a target. Nemuan had taken him—tortured him—to get to Dilys. “I am so sorry, Ari. I never meant for this to happen. If I could take your pain and bear it myself, I would.”
Ari blinked in surprise, then smiled gently. “Do you think I don’t know that? What happened to me wasn’t your fault. The only person to blame is Nemuan.” His smile turned rueful. “And me for not smelling the stench of treason when it sailed right up to my ship and boarded.”
“Nonsense. He fooled us all. Even after I knew he was my enemy, I didn’t realize the extent of his treachery. He was the son of a Myerial, after all. Even grief-mad, he should still have the strength to uphold the honor of his House.”
“In a very twisted way, that’s what he thought he was doing. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Ari grimaced as he stretched out his splinted leg before him. “Nemuan blamed House Merimydion for the death of his mother and sister. He said the cave-in at the ancient temple—the one that killed Nyamialine and the others—was deliberate. He claimed your House orchestrated the disaster to put your nima on the throne.”
“That’s absurd!” Dilys felt his temper shoot up, battle claws pressing against the tips of his fingers. He’d rip Nemuan to shreds all over again if he could. “That farking idiot betrayed his people, became a magic eater, murdered Calbernans, then kidnapped, tortured, and sold the Seasons of Summerlea because he thought my family murdered the Myerial and her daughter for the Sea Throne? My nima never wanted that burden! Blessed Numahao, ever since my father died, all she wanted was to join him. Every day was a torment for her! My uncle and I struggled constantly just to keep her from Fading! And that mad, treacherous, idiot of a krillo thought House Merimydion would conspire to add to her burden by laying responsibility for the whole of Calberna on her shoulders?”
“I know that, and you know that, but he was convinced.”
“What about Nyamialine? Did he think my House conspired to kill her, too?”
“Ono, he believed her death was entirely accidental. She wasn’t supposed to be at the temple, remember? She was a last-minute addition to the group.” Ari shifted in his chair. “It was because of Mia that Nemuan thought he could get me to join him in his insanity. He thought that since Mia was my sister I would want to avenge her and take my own justice on your House. I told him to go eat whale shoto. He told me I could either join him willingly, or he’d take over my mind and force me to his will.”
“That’s not possible.” Ryll protested.
“That’s what I thought. But to prove he could do it, he bespelled two of my men—drew some sort of runic symbol on their foreheads in red ink—and used his Voice to convince them I was responsible for the Sirena’s capture. Then he Commanded them to torture me. And they did.” He gave a hollow, humorless laugh. “Most of these wounds, my own men gave me. Men I’ve sailed with for years. Men I trusted at my back. When he was satisfied he’d made his point, he Commanded my men to drown themselves. And they did. That’s how he killed Fyerin and the others, and why they were all branded. He used the brand to hide the spell he’d put on them. Then he put the same spell on me.”
Dilys looked at the bandage still adhered to the back of Ari’s neck. “The runic circle Gabriella told me about. The one you shredded your own flesh to remove.”
“Tey.” Ari started to reach for the wound, but drew back before he touched it. “I don’t know if the Commands he gave me still hold sway without the mark, so you need to take precautions. Lock me up where I can’t hurt anyone. Because the whole time he was torturing me, he kept going on and on about how he would use me to destroy your House, so you would know the pain of what you Merimydions did to his.”
“I’m not going to lock you up, Ari. The fact that you’re here, telling me about this, is proof enough for me that Nemuan’s spell is broken.”
“You should still put me under guard. Just to be safe.”
Dilys waved Ari’s suggestion away. “Why was Nemuan so certain my House was behind the deaths of his mother and sister?”
“He said he’d seen the proof of it with his own eyes. And considering that he was in league with Mur Balat, I think we can guess where the proof came from.”
“As if anything from Mur Balat could be believed.”
“Balat may have been many things, but no one ever accused him of being dishonest.”
“Probably because any who did ended up dead.”
“True, but information brokers who market lies to powerful people don’t tend to live long.”
“So you think Nemuan hired Balat to find out who killed his mother and sister?”
Ari shrugged. “Either that or Balat came by the information some other way and simply used it when it was useful to him.”
Dilys headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Ari called after him.
“To see my mother. If there really is a traitor in our House, she needs to know about it.”
Calivan Merimydion’s magical laboratory was quite impressive. While the Lord Chancellor busied himself gathering up several items and storing them in a small pouch hanging at his waist, Gabriella wandered the spacious room, inspecting the books, the crystals of every shape and color, the numerous shelves filled with labelled jars of potion-crafting ingredients, and what appeared to be an extensive collection of magical artifacts.
“You seem to have made quite the study of magic,” she said.
“Tey. It’s always been a hobby of mine.”
Calivan calling his interest in magic a “hobby” was a gross understatement. This was no hobby. This was an obsession.
“Why such an interest?”
Calivan shrugged. “I am a Calbernan. Just because I wasn’t allowed to risk my life and my sister’s happiness by seeking gold and glory like the rest of our warriors doesn’t mean I didn’t pursue other methods of protecting my people and the women of my House. Now, before we begin, I need you to share some of your power with me. Once I understand what your gifts are, I’ll be better able to train you in how to use and control them.” Calivan held out his hands.
She made no effort to take them. Ever since the Shark, the idea of touching any Calbernan but Dilys was anathema to her. Ari had been different, of course. She’d been trying to save his life, and he’d been too damaged to be any threat to her. She didn’t think she’d be able to touch even her own guards except in the direst of emergencies—and they were men Dilys trusted implicitly, men he’d handpicked to protect her and absorb her magical overflow should her gifts threaten to overwhelm her.
Of course, once she became Myerial and Donima of House Merimydion, she’d have to get over her phobia of being touched. It was ridiculous to expect Dilys to serve as her conduit for every gift of power she’d be required to make. There would be too many. She was destined to be the engine that powered an entire nation. According to Dilys’s mother, the pregnant daughters of House Merimydion would expect—no, require—her to share her gifts so their children would be born strong imlanis in their own right. The powerful daughters of the royal Houses would expect the same, so that more Sirens could be born. The sons of Calberna, heading out to war, also deserved every advantage her gifts could give them.
She could not regard them all with suspicion. Every man in the world wasn’t a rapist lusting for a victim. Every Calbernan wasn’t magic ea
Still . . .
“Can I not just demonstrate my gifts, instead? Would that not give you a good idea of what I can do?”
“What you can do, yes, but not how you do it, or the amount of power you’re capable of generating.”
“I’m capable of generating quite a lot.”
“That’s only natural. You are a Siren, after all. However, it would be much more beneficial to understand exactly how powerful a Siren you really are. That will enable me to tailor my lessons to suit your needs.”
His reasoning made perfect sense. Of course, he needed to understand as much as possible about her power so he could help her learn to control it. So why was she so hesitant? This was Dilys’s uncle—the Myerial’s twin brother. He couldn’t possibly mean her any harm.
And yet, still, her whole body throbbed with resistance at the idea of letting Calivan touch his skin to hers.
Mistaking the reason for her reticence, Calivan said, “You needn’t worry about generating more power than your guards and I can contain. I have taken the liberty of preparing several crystals capable of storing any excess power.” He pulled a shining, polished stone the size of a goose egg from the pouch at his waist. “One of my more recent discoveries in magical devices. The crystal can be imbued with magical energy from any source and used for a variety of purposes. It can store spells. It can be used to power magical artifacts. The energy can also be extracted and used by anyone with the proper knowledge and ability—Calbernans, for instance—with very little power loss.”
“Are you intending to store my power in those stones?” she asked.
“I hope so. I would certainly like to do so. It would allow me not only to measure how much power you’re capable of generating, but also to experiment on your magic without constantly needing you to be present.”