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She WHAT?

If Thade hadn’t taken his fucking voice, Maurits would have spat the words, shouted them and sent every fish in the sea scattering.

And if it weren’t for the manacles still about his wrists and tail, he would have shot straight through to the surface in

disbelief. Not disbelief... anger.

“We just deliver the message,” said one of the basilisks. Maurits recognized it by a long white scar that ran down the length

of its body, but beyond that he did not know which was which. If the creatures had names that separated them as distinct beings,

he had long ago forgotten them. Perhaps they had forgotten too.

Maurits did not care for the message at all. How did she get here? There was no point in keeping up the pretense that the basilisks could not simply see into his mind and read his thoughts.

Glaring, he dared them to pretend otherwise.

Silence. Silence on its own was unnerving, but coming from creatures that would as soon die before abstaining from ceaseless

chatter, it was downright concerning. He had never known them to be nervous before, but they were darting worried looks at

one another now, seeming to be in some internal distress about who should be the first to speak.

Finally, the one with the scar broke their silence. “Your brother.”

“He laid a trap,” another said, picking up the narrative.

“Brought her down with the promise of a dog.”

“Silenced her voice.” They watched him, naked curiosity on their narrow faces.

Reflexively, he opened his mouth to let out a curse. He would not rise to the bait of the basilisks’ curiosity about the dog,

but his heart constricted painfully at the detail all the same. Clara had followed his brother back down into the water with

the promise of seeing her beloved Pim, and now she was just like him—trapped. Voiceless.

“She was going up up up,” the basilisks chanted, cutting into his thoughts.

“When we found her.”

“Had no air in her lungs, but she was going to swim for it, despite Thade’s charm about her neck.”

Each new revelation only twisted his gut further. How did she get away from Thade?

The basilisks exchanged more nervous looks between each other.

“It’s not our place to say,” said one.

“Wouldn’t want to tell someone else’s story.”

Maurits closed his eyes. He didn’t need roundabout answers to tell him that this had Neese written all over it. He was more

than glad to transfer some of the more unpleasant emotions welling up inside of him from Clara to his nixie friend.

But waves above, why was Clara still here if she’d escaped?

Was this the same Clara who had walked so demurely beside the canal with him?

The same Clara who had allowed herself to be married off to a wobbly little excuse of a man?

Of course it wasn’t. It was the Clara who had wandered into the wood and faced a moss maiden, the Clara who had tried to escape from the grotto, despite not knowing how to swim.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, the basilisks were still watching him, their long bodies testing the boundaries of his cell.

“He will not like this part,” said the biggest one.

“No, not at all.”

Tell me , he commanded in his mind.

“She is to stand trial in Thade’s court.”

“For the human’s breach of the deal, and their unwillingness to pay their debt.”

“She saw the queen,” another said. “Had an audience in the old palace.”

“She is determined. Quite determined.”

He stared at his serpentine visitors. He had done everything in his limited power to protect her, to get her away from his

mother and her vengeance, and Clara had come right back and had a FUCKING AUDIENCE WITH HER.

Maurits had always prided himself on his ability to keep a level head. His relaxed temperament endlessly vexed Thade who had

seen it as further proof that Maurits was incapable of being a serious ruler. But now Maurits felt white-hot rage.

His jaw was so tight that his teeth hurt. When is the trial set?

“In seven days’ time.”

“At high tide.”

She truly turned herself back in, willingly? he asked in his mind.

“Would we lie?”

“We would, probably, but not of this.”

Maurits could only imagine that Thade would be merciless in his prosecution, giving Clara little chance to defend herself.

Besides, what did she know of the world beneath the water? Their laws, customs, and history were all thousands of years old,

completely foreign to her. She would be entirely lost.

Not that it mattered. It was all just for show, so that Thade could point a finger at someone and tell the water folk who

was responsible for their suffering. The outcome would be the same.

You must grant me a favor.

He had not thought it possible, but the basilisks looked surprised.

“You wish another favor, from us? You have yet to discharge your first,” one said.

“We are not in the habit of granting endless favors, and your debt will be large.”

I will do anything you ask, only agree to help me in this one thing.

The creatures glanced at each other, some unheard discussions passing among them. Maurits waited with a tight chest for them

to come to a decision.

“Very well,” the largest one said at last.

“You may ask of us a favor, but your debt will be of our choosing, and at a time decided by us.”

That was a problem for another time, when Clara wasn’t in immediate peril. Fetch Neese to me , he told them.

“That is all?”

“Hardly worth a debt.”

Will you do it, or not?

The basilisks shared one of their inscrutable looks before turning tail to leave. “Your Highness,” they chimed in unison.

Slithering out through the cracks in the rock, they left a frigid chill in their wake.

No sooner had their tails disappeared than the stone door was pushed aside, and one of Thade’s guards entered. Maurits vaguely

remembered the guard from his days in the palace, a short, hard-looking merman who was never without a scowl or a notch between

his heavy brows. Working for Thade certainly had not improved his disposition.

The surly guard gave Maurits a long, hard look. “It’s cold here. Feels like magic.”

Maurits could only give him what he hoped was his most innocent look of mild surprise.

“The king says your powers are hobbled, but if there’s even a hint of magic I’ll see to it that King Thade takes another look at you. Here’s your supper,” he added, tossing a handful of shrimp at Maurits’s tail. With a final scowl, he left.

Maurits was not particularly hungry, but then he hadn’t been hungry for a long time now. All of his senses were beginning

to dull, the days blending into one long tide that was forever lingering between coming in and going out. In his darker moments,

he almost wished Thade had killed him. It was only once he received news of Clara’s return to the water that his soul had

flared back to life in his chest. He would need to hold fast to that spark of life, for her sake.