Page 5

The sound of Kali’s laughter seemed bold and rude, and Kaerius scowled at him.

“A human voice is like the shrieking of a gull. Why torment yourself with such ugliness?” Kali drew closer, his sharp teeth showing as he smiled. “I suppose it is pleasant to compare your voice to hers. Not that your ego needs encouragement.” Kali was Kaerius’s closest friend and Tehrgil’s oldest brother, and though he usually acted with more propriety than Tehrgil did, he also enjoyed pricking Kaerius’s dignity.

The prince snapped, “What does it matter why I listen? Is it not my right to spend my leisure time as I wish? Is anyone starving because I have not hunted enough for them? Is there a war at hand that I am neglecting?”

Kali withdrew a little, studying the prince. “No, Your Highness,” he said at last. “It costs your people nothing for you to be so fascinated by a human. I merely seek to understand my future king, so that I may serve well in years to come.”

Kaerius eyed him coldly. “Not for many years, of course. My father and I have our disagreements, but I do not envy his authority.”

The younger royal sighed. “Your Highness, you know I meant no threat to His Majesty. What has put you in such a mood?”

“I just want to listen to the human sing,” muttered Kaerius resentfully.

“I am not preventing you,” Kali said quietly.

Kaerius’s golden hair streamed behind him as he darted into the protected little bay, leaving his cousin and his cares behind him in the deeper water.

The human girl’s song seemed innocent, sweet, and tinged with an appealing sort of melancholy that tugged at his heart. Sometimes the sadness was more prominent in her voice, and sometimes it seemed that she had nearly forgotten it.

Kaerius was sorely tempted to thread his voice with the command that she tell him what weighed upon her heart. Yet every time he opened his mouth to do so, he felt a strange twinge of grief and guilt.

What was a confidence worth, if it was shared only under duress? Would it not be sweeter to let her confide in him when she was ready?

As summer turned to fall and then winter, he sought her nearly every night, but she came only rarely to the beach, and most nights she did not sing.

She did not speak often, either, apparently wanting only to listen to the waves and the wind.

A thousand times he opened his mouth to speak to her, but a thousand times he squashed the impulse. If he spoke to her, he would have to explain to his father why he had broken a thousand years of tradition on a silly impulse.

It would be easier to explain compelling a human to confide in him than merely voicing his presence and desire for friendship. What exactly did he want from her?

No, it would be better to understand his strange fascination with her before he spoke.

Late in the spring, Kali again followed Kaerius to the entrance to the bay. The sun was setting behind them over the deep water, and Kaerius looked over the choppy waves for a moment, just long enough to see that the girl was not on the beach. Perhaps she would not come tonight.

“Come away from there,” Kali said. “You’ve wasted half the year pining after a human who doesn’t know you exist, and for what purpose? Why should your eyes go soft when you think of a flat-toothed human with no magic in her voice?”

Kaerius huffed. “Can I not love whom I choose?” He sneered at the younger Mer. “If she knew I existed, she would fall head over feet for me in a moment!”

“Love?” Kali said in shock.

The prince was equally surprised at the word, but it settled in to his heart as a truth he had not yet understood, not a word to be disavowed. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I do love her.”

All of a sudden, Kaerius felt the immense power of his father’s presence below him.

“Am I to understand that you have been pining after a human?” the Mer king said, his voice dark with anger. “How did such a travesty come to pass?”

Kaerius squared his shoulders and bared his teeth proudly. “Why should I not court a human, Your Majesty? These Mer women are too enamored with my status as your heir. I am intrigued because she knows nothing of me, nothing of my power or status.”

The king hissed, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Why should you not court a human? Have you lost your mind? Humans have no love of Mer, and there is no reason for us to care for them, with their nets and their spears and their scratchy, uncouth voices.”

Kaerius blinked. “Do they even know we exist?”

“They used to.” The king’s expression did not soften. “It has been hundreds of years since any contact between our peoples. If they still remember, it is likely only as legend or myth.”

“Then why should she not love me?” Kaerius grinned fiercely. “I am beautiful and powerful, and she should be honored that I have given her a thought at all! I will court her!”

“You will not, you insolent child!” the king roared. “Have you heard nothing? Understood nothing? Humans are foolish, unmagical, ugly land-dwellers, and they have nothing to offer any Mer, much less you! Have a care for your own dignity! And if you are too short-sighted to understand how this affects you, Kaerius, then think of the dignity of all Mer.”