Читать книгу Oceanborn - Amalie Howard - Страница 10

1 Glory and Pain

We are savage. We are proud. We are the dark rulers of the sea.

Deep in the ocean near the earth’s core, I survey the Aquarathi people—a firestorm of color—as the four courts pay homage to their new queen. Closest to me, the Gold Court stands quietly proud. The Sapphire Court is flamboyant in their tribute. The Emerald Court, more demure. But the Ruby Court, I watch with silent, cautious eyes. Months before, they supported a rival queen in her bid against the High Court, and she almost won.

Almost.

The great hall of Waterfell is deep and cavernous, with cobbled golden stalactites and stalagmites spanning its entire length to meet in the middle like majestic columns. In the human world, I learned about the marble pillars of the ancient Greeks. Ours remind me of the pictures I saw of theirs, only the ones around me are far older and more forbidding. The floor glitters with all manner of earthly minerals, reflecting off our bodies like prisms.

Today we celebrate my coronation as heir to the High Court. In Aquarathi society, it’s a pivotal milestone, one made even more momentous by the fact that my father—the last king—is dead. If he were alive, years from now he would be the one to transfer the proverbial baton to me. The endorsement from one ruler to another is a vital piece of our tradition. An Aquarathi coronation isn’t the same as humans might expect from what they know of royalty in the media, but power is passed from the old monarch to the new one in a ritual that’s just as significant.

Aivana, which translates into the human language as beautiful flower, refers to an ancient Aquarathi practice. Like Sanctum, it is a gift born to those of royal blood. In our world, when kings or queens die, they can bequeath their power, should they so choose, to a next of kin. Aivana is not only a transfer of Aquarathi energy from one ruler to the next; it’s a transfer of trust—a blessing of sorts from the old to the new.

In a parallel world, my father would be alive and standing at my side. I can picture his face, silvery blue and radiant with pride. Everyone would watch with bated breath as he touched his nose to mine and bent his forehead to rest directly upon my brow. We would both glow so brightly that the light would extinguish all colors save ours. Together, we would bestow Sanctum—an ancient Aquarathi practice used by royals to strengthen our people—to everyone in the room, reminding them of our strength and our love. Eventually his bioluminescence would fade, merging into mine and signaling the rise of a new ruler.

But my father isn’t here, and there’s no one to pass along a crown to make this any easier or to make the Aquarathi immediately accept me. I am alone. And I am already a queen. My coronation is but an afterthought. My people watch me in expectant silence, crowding into the great hall of Waterfell like silent luminescent candles flickering in a body of water. A shiver winds through me as I study their faces—my fledgling rule has already raised questions and a near-royal coup. I’ve had to earn their approval. I still have to.

I wish I were back in La Jolla.

The thought is errant. And cowardly. I am Aquarathi, not human. And I belong here. I know that. But the truth is, I miss being human—playing hockey and surfing, lunches in the quad, hanging out with my best friend, Jenna. Being human. But I’m not just a girl. I’m part of an alien marine species living on this planet, and my place is in the ocean, not landside.

I almost smile, remembering snippets of a conversation I had with Jenna during one of our sunny lunches in the Dover Prep courtyard, a couple weeks after I’d revealed what I was to her.

“So, do you live in a giant underwater castle? You know, like Ariel?”

I snorted soda through my nose at the Disney reference. “Um, no. There are no underwater castles in the ocean, Jenna, and I definitely don’t sit on rocks grooming my hair in the sunlight waiting to be rescued by Prince Eric...even though he is kind of dreamy.”

Jenna grinned. “Well, now that you’ve gone and dashed all my childhood ideals, enlighten me.”

“Disney version or Jeopardy version?”

“Jeopardy.”

“We live in underwater caves. We hunt, we sleep, we reproduce and we work. As a species, think of us as a cross between whales, dolphins and wolves. No castles, no tea parties, just the occasional sushi brunch. We’re just like any other sea creature living in pods...pretty boring really.”

“Don’t you have an economic or political structure?”

“An economy of what? Trading in plankton? Our political structure is divided into four courts, as you know, with one high court. Unlike most humans,” I said with a grin, “we are a very simple species.”

“I don’t get it. I mean, you’re so evolved. Intelligent.”

“Why? Intelligence is measured in different ways, not necessarily according to human standards or human categories. For us, it’s about self-awareness. We exist within the parameters of our world, within our social and cultural structures, living as one with the environment. We don’t belong up here, involved in politics and MTV and wireless Internet. A killer whale doesn’t just get up and say, ‘I want to play some video games and maybe try using a fork,’ and neither would any Aquarathi. It doesn’t make us any less intelligent.”

“Yes, but you can transform to be like us. Human.”

“Not all of us. Most Aquarathi can only exist in human form if they’re in close proximity to me. It’s not our natural state.”

She stared at me as if I were an imbecile missing the big picture. “Still, for argument’s sake, think of what you could do if you did—I mean you could be a part of the government instead of working policy change from the sidelines. You could make sure we don’t do anything to jeopardize your species. You could play an active part. I mean, more than you already do in secret, and you wouldn’t have to hide.”

“If the humans knew about us, it would lead to worse things, Jenna.”

She was so passionate, and what she said was partially true. We could make ourselves known. But what would stop us from seizing control and overpowering the humans if they didn’t like our ways? It would be easy, with all of our abilities. After all, that was what Ehmora wanted. She wanted to control people so that this planet wouldn’t face the same brutal end that Sana, our home planet, faced at the hands of the hominids there.

But that wasn’t what my father wanted. And it’s not what I want. There are always going to be those who think we are a stronger and smarter species—those like Ehmora who would view humans as less than. Those are the few who won’t be happy coexisting. Eventually the humans would grow to fear us and we’d end up in the same place that Sana did—in an interspecies war. No, it’s better that we live in secret, affecting change from the sidelines, as we have done for millennia.

And now it’s my turn to take the reins.

My eyes flick to the restless Ruby Court. Those Aquarathi have been the slowest to accept my rule over the past few weeks, especially after the death of their leader. But I beat Ehmora on the sands of battle, and their allegiance has been sworn, if not truly won. I’m still working on that. Some of them still support what Ehmora was fighting for, and they’re the dangerous ones...stirring seeds of malcontent.

I take a breath and close my eyes. On cue, the crown of bones on my brow pushes forward like a fan of finely webbed coral. I center myself, feeling my core connect with the heart of Waterfell—and the beating hearts of all the Aquarathi within it—until we are one and the same. I am a daughter of the old kings and a mother of the new. Every living creature in this room is tied to me. I exhale, and the whispered breath ripples across the hall from body to body, heart to heart. I open my eyes—the glow in the room is almost blinding, a tumultuous kaleidoscope like the northern lights in Earth’s sky.

Echlios, my Handler and captain of my royal guard, moves forward to stand beside me, his body rigid. I can see the approval flashing in his bright silver eyes. He nods and arches his long neck, his dark red scales glittering, as he bares it to me in a gesture of submission. Golden-green lights shimmer down the length of my body, mirroring the deep ruby of his, and I click fiercely in my native tongue to my people, calling water-to-water and blood-to-blood.

My water is yours as yours is mine, I tell them, whispering the oaths I would have sworn to my father. Power ripples along my spine, making my golden colors flare so brightly that every finned head dips in deferent succession—gold to green to blue, and finally to red in a wave of reluctant molten crimson.

I must rule by strength now. Not just by love.

Trust is a luxury, and the time for compassion in Waterfell has come and gone. Ehmora planted dark seeds of doubt and confusion. If I don’t control my people, all of the humans will be at risk. And everything my father fought and died for will be for nothing. I can never let that happen, even more so now that I am bonded to a hybrid—a half-human, half-Aquarathi prince.

I arch my neck, my tail curling through the water...and freeze as a violent wave of pain crashes into me like a rogue tsunami, destroying everything in its path. Lo’s name reverberates like a hammer in my brain as if the sharp thought of him has summoned his consciousness to me in full force. My lights flutter and die. I can feel the startled pulses and the clicks of the courts, but I can’t focus on them.

All I know is Lo’s pain...a deep, shattering, all-consuming pain, as if a thousand blades are carving my body at once. The navy swirls on my flanks—Lo’s marks—deepen like ink, sinking into me with scorching pressure. Everything disappears and I feel only the pull of the bond...and the one on the other side of the bond...calling to me.

And in that moment, I know. The threat isn’t here.

It’s there.

In seconds, Echlios is glued to my side, the rest of his guards surrounding us in a protective circle. “My lady, what is it?”

“Lo,” I gasp. “Something’s wrong. He’s hurt.”

“I’ll go.”

“No,” I insist, nearly doubling over. “The coronation—”

“Can wait.”

I shake my head, feeling my ties to the Aquarathi start to fade. I swallow. “This is too important.”

Echlios nods, but I can see the uncertainty flicker across his face. Because of the bond with Lo, I am vulnerable, and if Lo is hurt, I can be, too. Echlios’s mate, Soren, joins us, her eyes flashing gold fire. As my Handler, she is so in tune with me that she has felt the fear I’m now trying desperately to conceal.

Her voice is gentle, as is the pale green tail fin circling me in a protective manner. “Breathe, Nerissa. Try deep calming breaths. It will help with the pain. Echlios will go. It is his duty to protect you...and the prince regent.”

I do as she says, letting the salt water enter through my gills and breathing out the sharp, pulsing pain until it becomes a dull throb. Nodding weakly to Echlios, I watch as Soren dismisses the courts that have come to pay their respects to the new queen. I don’t know what they’re saying, but I have to imagine that seeing their new ruler in an incapacitated state on the first day of her coronation has to be cause for concern. Still, that anxiety pales in comparison to the urge I feel to take off in a sprint for the mainland in response to the pull of the bond.

“I need a minute,” I pulse to Soren as another wave of dizziness overcomes me.

“Go. I’ll convene the High Council,” she says to me and then frowns, her eyes narrowing in concern. “Not too far, Nerissa.”

I nod and make my way out of the throne room and into the tunnels beyond. There are two silent black forms behind me—Nova and Nell—twins and two of my royal guard that I’m aching to get rid of. They’re young but fierce—Echlios thought our closeness in age would make me less uncomfortable with having permanent shadows glued to my every move. I didn’t mind, until now.

“Stay here,” I click to the twins at the tunnel’s exit. “I’m going to be right over there.”

I swim away from Waterfell with a few short, powerful strokes, but stay within watching distance of the two guards. Their forms are indistinct, cloudy shapes, which means they can still see me and that’s all that matters. I close my eyes and stay perfectly still, clearing my mind of everything but the feel of the water against my skin and the soft muted sounds of ocean life around me. I let the sea do what it does best—heal.

For a heartbeat, floating in a sea of space and nothing, it’s easy to imagine that I live in a world where everything is different. That my parents are alive and together. That my father is here to watch my coronation with pride. That the one who has my heart isn’t a million miles away...and that he hasn’t been hurt, or worse.

Lo...the prince regent. My mate.

We are bonded for life, bound by an unbreakable tie. We belong to each other in a way that only lovers can know. My gaze falls on the bands of navy shimmering through my golden-green scales—the marks of our bonding—and green bioluminescent lights tingle along my sides in automatic response. Fighting another wave of panic, I try to push the thought of him—and the thought of his blue-black eyes, so like the shadowy darkness of the ocean surrounding me—from my mind, but it’s like trying to separate my skin from my body. Every breath I inhale, he inhales with me. As if in response, the tug from before becomes more insistent, less painful now but still sharp. I can only hope that Echlios finds him safe.

Drifting deeper into the deep blue coldness, I don’t resist as the current drags my body with insistent force. I’m not afraid. I can handle the ocean at its worst, control it even, but I let it take me, enjoying the feel of not having to be strong for just a moment. I don’t care that I’ve lost sight of my two guards or that the dim lights of Waterfell have faded. There’s nothing around me but pitch-black murky gloom. I’m the deadliest predator out here, so it’s not like I have anything to fear—especially with Ehmora dead and her allies in hiding. Those Echlios hunted down either swore fealty to me or were executed.

Inexorably, my thoughts return to Lo, the son of the very one who tried to usurp my throne. Ehmora’s son. Sure, he killed her—for me—but our relationship is still delicate at best, and even at the core, a lifelong genetic bond wouldn’t be the only thing that would hold me to him. At first, being with Lo was an act of defiance and desperation on my part. I wanted to be close to someone, to forget for a while what I was and pretend to be a human girl. But that one moment cost me so much. I bonded myself to the son of my enemy.

“Planning to drift to China?”

The unexpected voice jerks me out of my thoughts. Speio, the son of Soren and Echlios, is both my oldest friend in the world and, without a doubt, the biggest thorn in my side. I eye him, watching the tense way he’s swimming toward me. His body is slender and pale gold like his mother’s, with luminous green fins spanning his entire length. While the look in his eyes isn’t exactly aggressive, the slow sideways motion of his body is. “Do you have any idea how far out you are?”

“No,” I say truthfully. “I lost track.”

Speio bares his teeth in borderline disrespect. “Everyone’s on high alert because of what happened. The least you can do is stay with your guards.”

“Since when do you care, Speio?”

Speio’s resentment toward me was no secret while we lived on land—after all, he was landlocked after Dvija and coming of age. Which, in his own words, was a punishment worse than death. His baser instincts made him stupidly trust Ehmora and basically hand-deliver me to her on a platter. While I forgave him for his temporary lunacy, trust is a harder thing to regain.

“I care if you get hurt. Or if Lo is hurt.”

I stare at him sharply. “What do you know about Lo?”

“I know more than you think,” he says. I’m too drained to rise to the bait, so instead I start the swim back to Waterfell, the water in my body guiding me there. Speio follows. “You sure you don’t want to know?”

“Know what, Speio?”

“I followed my father to La Jolla and I talked to Cara.”

Cara? My archnemesis whom he hooked up with before we left California?

“That’s weird. I thought you were done with the humans and you couldn’t wait to come back home,” I say.

Speio shoots me an exasperated stare. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep myself in the loop, especially with the threat of hybrids running around.”

This time he has my attention. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Hybrids,” he says. “What did you think, Riss? That they were just going to go away now that you’ve returned to your rightful place hidden in the deep? Ehmora’s minions still want to take over the world. All you’ve done by getting rid of one of their leaders is slow them down.”

I frown. “But Echlios says we haven’t seen any hybrids in weeks. And what does Cara have to do with any of that? She’s human. She doesn’t even know what we are.”

“That doesn’t mean more of them don’t exist,” Speio says. “We have to be careful. And Cara’s been hanging out with Lo this summer.” I try to ignore the stab of jealousy those words cause in the pit of my stomach, but it’s a losing battle. I can picture Cara’s toned form in a swimsuit and imagine exactly what hanging out with Lo means. Speio grins, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

I swipe a clawed forearm at him. “You are the worst friend in the world, you know that? So, what did Cara say? And what did you tell her, by the way? That you were just dropping in from the other side of the world?”

“Um, Lo’s bonded to you, Riss. It’s not like he’s going to go chasing after someone else,” he says with a knowing look at my suddenly savage tone. “Calm down. Cara just thinks I was visiting from Los Angeles. Plus, Lo has been a perfectly well-behaved boy, if you must know. No hookups, not even with Cara,” he clarifies with a very human-looking eye roll. “He’s been surfing and working at the Marine Center all summer.”

Even though I’m telling myself that I wasn’t worried about what Lo was doing, I can’t help the immediate relief that sweeps through me. I told him he had to find himself, and I didn’t put any rules around what that should be. Any normal boy would have taken that as permission to play the field and have fun. Then again, Lo isn’t any normal boy.

“Anyway...” Speio continues. Something flashes in his eyes before it’s hidden. I gesture at him to continue. “Cara mentioned that Lo’s been getting sick.”

“Sick? What kind of sick?”

“Kevin at the center said that he passed out a couple times over the past few weeks. He told them it was dehydration, but last week he passed out again in front of a bunch of people on the beach. They called 911.”

“Did they take him to a hospital?” I ask quickly, even though I know that it would have been all over the news and would have filtered to us in a heartbeat. I can see the headlines now—Alien Species Discovered. They Walk Among Us! San Diego would be the next Roswell, New Mexico.

“No, Jenna was there. She told the paramedics that he’s a diabetic and had low blood sugar. Don’t ask me how that girl proved it, but she did. Anyway, Cara said that Lo went home with Jenna. That was last week.”

“But I didn’t feel anything those other times,” I say. “Via the bond, I mean.”

“That’s what happened this morning?”

“Yes. It was bad, Speio, like I was being gutted from nose to tail. It was so strong I could barely handle it. It felt...wrong.”

Speio leans his body into mine in a comforting gesture. “He’ll be okay, Riss,” he says slowly with an uncertain look at me. “Look, I know things between us haven’t been great, and I know that’s my fault. I know you don’t trust me. But I care about you, and I care about Lo.”

“You hate Lo.”

“I don’t hate Lo,” Speio says as we swim past a row of unfamiliar underwater mountains. I must have drifted farther than I’d expected. “I thought that he was hiding something, and he was. But now, well, he’s a part of you...so that means he’s a part of us.” Speio stops, considering his words. “And if something happens to him, that’s going to be bad for everyone here, right?”

“Nothing bad’s going to happen to Lo,” I say swiftly, just as I feel the pull of home. We’re nearly back.

“No, you’re right,” he says. “Riss?”

“What?”

“I want you know that I’m here no matter what. I mean, I know you don’t trust me and you have every right not to, but if we have to go back for Lo, then I’ll go back with you, okay?”

“What about finding your mate here in Waterfell?” I ask. “It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Speio shrugs, another humanlike gesture that almost makes me smile. “It’s what I thought I wanted because I couldn’t have it when we lived on the mainland. But turns out, just because we’re home doesn’t mean that I’m going to bond with someone. Plus, I miss skateboarding. And surfing. And our friends. And believe it or not, a part of me wishes that I could finish my senior year at Dover.” He stares at me, his eyes vulnerable. “Too human?”

“Not at all,” I admit, floored by his candid admissions. “I feel like that, too. I miss Jenna and Sawyer. I even miss Cara sometimes.” Cara...said archnemesis who’d had her eye on Lo and had been determined to banish me to hell when she realized that we were a couple. She even hooked up with Speio to get back at me. I grin. “But only on very special occasions.”

Speio eyes Nova and Nell, who don’t know whether to be annoyed at my disappearing act or relieved that I’ve returned before they got flayed alive by Echlios for letting me out of their sight in the first place. “You looked really good up there today, Riss,” he says so softly that I can hardly hear him. “Like a real queen. Your father would have been proud.”

“Thanks,” I say, startled.

But Speio is already swimming away. It’s more words than we’ve spoken in months, and I realize that I’ve missed him. I think back to what he said about Lo and frown. Dehydration is a common affliction for our species, particularly because of the combination of water and salt in our bodies. But Lo is a hybrid, which means that he should be able to tolerate it better than we can. Or maybe it’s the reverse.

The way Echlios explained it, Lo is the best of both worlds—an Aquarathi with transmuted human DNA that allows him to live comfortably on land or in the sea. He is the product of accelerated evolution based on the laws of natural selection...accelerated because his mother and her cronies induced those genetic characteristics. We faced and fought others that looked like hideous mutations, hybrids that Ehmora, my mother and the brilliant genetic-scientist ex-headmaster of Dover Prep had concocted. As far as we know, Lo is the only perfect hybrid in existence. But maybe he isn’t perfect. Maybe he’s flawed in some terminal, human way.

The furious outward rush of breath leaves me weak. Lo can’t be sick. He can’t be. He’s meant to be with me. All of a sudden, those countless arguments I had with myself about leaving him behind become meaningless. The only thing I can think about is Lo and figuring out what’s wrong with him...figuring out how I can save him. Because I did this. It’s my fault. The guilt is nearly suffocating. Maybe if I hadn’t been so selfish about keeping us apart, things would be different. He would be happy and healthy, here with me where he belongs. Instead I’m going to lose him.

“Soren,” I pulse, entering the core of the High Court. The Aquarathi in the chamber clear out, their heads bowed. I can sense the underlying tension, and a certainty that something isn’t quite right floods my body. I try not to let the fear invade my head, but it does, like insidious ink. “Any news?” I ask her. “Is Echlios back?”

“Yes, there’s news, and no, Echlios is not back,” she says slowly. I can feel her sadness in the water rushing around in her body. I can see it in the shimmer of her melting green eyes.

“What is it? Is Lo okay?”

“Nerissa...”

Heaven help me, I already know what she’s going to say. I want to shake her, to smash my head into her side. I want to scream my fear and shed it from the inside of my skin. Instead I pull on a composed mask and deaden the emotion running rampant within me. “Just say it, Soren. Tell me. I can handle it, I promise.”

But I can’t handle it at all, not when her lips shape the words that make my bones thin to air and my heart crumble into unrecognizable fragments. “It’s not good. He’s dying.”