Page 71 of A Kingdom Threatened (The Vazula Chronicles 3)

He released the record into the water, turning and swimming away from the square.

Merletta retrieved it, her blood boiling as she read its contents. It was the account she’d seen in the records room, about the attempts of merfolk in generations past to settle near land to the west, ending in a so-called massacre by the dragons. There were extra details on this version of the record, though, about how vicious dragons were, and how fleeing survivors had been killed by sharks, or dragged into the depths by giant squids.

Rekavidur’s image floated before Merletta’s mind. Austere, dignified, mysterious…at times cold, certainly. But not vicious. Never aggressive.

The educator was still speaking, but Merletta had heard enough. This was as good an opportunity as she was ever going to get.

Disregarding Freja’s startled protest, Merletta shot upward, traveling high enough that she cleared the crowd while still remaining within hailing distance of the educator on the platform. The nerves that had been missing that morning showed up as she rose, but she pushed them down.

“You said this is an account from our history?” she called, loudly enough to get everyone’s attention.

The educator paused, his eyes still searching for the speaker as he answered. “That’s right.”

“But how can we be sure it’s accurate, if no one is still alive who remembers it?” she asked.

The watchers were beginning to murmur, but Merletta kept her focus on the educator. He’d spotted her now, and she saw his eyes narrow in recognition.

“Because the events are faithfully recorded in writing, as you see,” he said tartly.

“Faithfully?” Merletta paused, as if considering. “But how can we be sure? The records have to be re-copied so many times to last this long…what if a mistake was made by one of the scribes?”

“The Center doesn’t make mistakes,” the educator said through gritted teeth.

“Never?” Merletta asked, feigning surprise. “That’s quite a feat.”

“Even in the unlikely event that there was a small error in wording,” the educator said, now visibly agitated, “it would hardly change the substance of the account.”

“True,” Merletta agreed, nodding wisely. “The substance couldn’t really be changed without intentional deception.”

The murmuring had stopped now, many pairs of eyes fixed on Merletta where she floated above the crowd. A glance down showed Felix, his face full of open astonishment, and an alarmed Freja beside him.

For a moment the educator seemed unsure how to respond, then he adopted a dismissive tone. “You are disrupting the education of vulnerable members of our—”

“Oh, I don’t mean to disrupt,” said Merletta, opening her eyes wide. “I’m a strong advocate for education. It’s why I joined the program. Perhaps you don’t remember meeting me the other day. I’m a third year Center trainee, currently studying to qualify as an educator.”

“I remember perfectly well,” the educator said, clearly holding his rage in check by the slimmest of margins. “And you are out of line.”

“Yes, that’s what they used to tell me at the charity home,” Merletta said sorrowfully. “The one where I grew up isn’t far from here.”

The crowd had begun muttering again. Merletta heard a few exclamations as onlookers realized she was the infamous Tilssted trainee, and whispered the news excitedly to those beside them.

“Your background is irrelevant,” snapped the educator. “As a trainee, you should know better than to make such a scene.”

“But I’m just trying to assist,” Merletta assured him. “As a trainee, I’ve studied records like these ones.” She gestured to the writing leaves, floating abandoned through the water as every member of the crowd gave her their full attention. “But I’ve also had my own experiences outside the barrier, and I’m a little confused by the differences.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” said the educator. He nodded to a guard patrol. “Detain her.”

Several of the guards swam forward, but the movement was met with general outcry.

“You’re going to arrest your own just for talking?”

“Let her speak!”

“We want to hear what she means!”

Merletta looked to the educator, her eyebrow raised expectantly. He was apoplectic with anger now, but one of his fellows was whispering urgently in his ear, and he gestured to the guards to stand down.

“You are not qualified to educate anyone,” said his companion, swimming forward. “You are a trainee only. This is an important matter, and must be left to those with the training and experience to handle it.”