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J ade clawed her way to consciousness, feeling as though she were fighting through a morass. Her heavy eyelids refused to open at first, and even when they obeyed, they did so only for a second before closing again.

The world she’d glimpsed made little enough sense that she squeezed her stubborn eyes closed, trying to piece it all together.

Not her room, nor Arden’s. Not her house at all.

A world tinged blue-green, a world that weighed more than it should have, a world…

a world she’d seen before, on crystals and in books.

The Sunken Cities . The pieces came together—the kidnapping, the meeting with Prince Finn, the black-tailed secret warriors. But her memories stopped after they’d left Prince Finn. She could remember walking with Electra and Librus and then…nothing. Had they drugged her again?

Prying her eyelids open, she drew in a long breath meant to calm her racing heart.

She was in a bedroom, its decorations sparse.

What light there was streamed in through a window but provided little indication on whether it was night or day.

It wasn’t the glow of the sun at these depths, but rather of the dome.

Emotions tangled in her chest. She’d waited her whole life to see this place. Had dreamed so many dreams of coming here. But to be kidnapped? To undergo a failed Awakening here? To be informed that, if Awakened, she would be forced to marry a stranger with nothing but ambition in his eyes?

The Triada had granted her a reprieve, though. For now, at least, she was unharmed and Unawakened. And perhaps…perhaps that was for a purpose. Perhaps there was something down here he meant her to do.

Her fingers flexed against the sheet beneath her. It felt damp—everything did, including her. Jade pushed herself up to a sitting position, wincing when her head throbbed.

The wall across from her slid open, and Electra stood silhouetted against much brighter light. “Awake yet, sander?”

Even the mermaid’s soft voice hurt. Jade lifted a hand to her head. “Barely,” she managed to scratch out from a throat she only now noticed was dry and aching.

“Here.” Electra strode into the room, holding out a cup of water. “I mixed some pain relievers into it. The black serum always leaves a splitting headache behind, but this will help.”

For a moment, Jade stared at the glass. Was it stupid to accept something from this woman’s hand, when she’d already proven herself willing and able to drug her?

But what was the alternative? To refuse all food and water? That was a quick way to die—and she wasn’t ready for that. Not with so much unsaid between her and Storm. With her parents undoubtedly worried about her. With Arden possibly injured trying to save her.

She took the water, forcing a smile strained with pain. “Thank you.” It tasted strange, likely from the medication stirred into it. But still it soothed her throat, and the pain in her head retreated a bit too. Maybe it was partly from dehydration.

“You went under again when we were a few minutes from home,” Electra said, motioning to the house, “and have been out for about twenty hours. Librus was getting worried.”

Librus—not Electra. She had the distinct feeling that the woman before her didn’t much care whether she lived or died.

Jade drained the last of the water and tried to peer past Electra. “Where are we?”

“Our house.” The mermaid turned sideways in the door and motioned toward the hall. “If you’re up for it, I’ll give you a bit of a tour as we head for the kitchen. You have to be hungry.”

Her head spun for a moment as she turned to put her feet on the floor but then stilled. She pushed herself slowly up. “By ‘our’ you mean…?”

“Mine, technically. Priests aren’t allowed to own property. But Librus lives here too, when he’s in this city.” Some reaction must have shown on her face, because Electra smirked. “He’s my brother.”

“Ah.” She hadn’t noticed a resemblance yesterday, but now that she thought about it…actually, she couldn’t hold the thought long. Her head was still fuzzy. “I don’t suppose you have coffee?”

Electra snorted and turned to the hallway. “We’re mer, not barbarians. Of course we have coffee.” She gestured for Jade to follow.

She did, grateful that the woman kept her pace slow. Jade largely ignored her as she gave quick explanations of each of the rooms they passed, noting only that the home was beautiful, elegant. As expected, she supposed, of a princess-turned-general.

Mostly, her thoughts churned with the confusion of it all.

The place she’d always wanted to see but in a way she’d never wanted to see it. All her dreams within reach yet delivered as a nightmare. The people she’d wanted to befriend forcing her into an alliance she never would have sought.

Why? Why had it happened this way?

Even as her mind screamed the question, the gentle voice of their village priest, Father Gio, came forth in her memory. Nothing surprises the Triada. Never can you drift so far that you are out of the reach of his mighty hand.

She’d never doubted that he would be here, beneath the depths of the sea.

That he would see her under the waves. He would have come with her had she made this journey willingly, and he was no less with her when she was brought here against her will.

There would be comfort in that, once her pulse calmed down and her head had cleared.

Once thoughts could make their way through the tangle of emotions.

Electra led her into a kitchen, and the familiar scent of coffee made some of the unease loosen its death-grip on her throat.

Jade sank with heavy limbs into a chair at the table.

Research reported that land-dwellers experience heaviness for the first few days under the weight of the sea—the domes helped, but they didn’t erase all the pressure.

She suspected the black serum was partly to blame too.

Pulling two pottery mugs from a cabinet, Electra asked, “How do you take yours? I have regular cream, vanilla flavored, sugar…”

Jade’s eyes stung. Arden and Papa both used flavored cream. How many times had Mama teased Papa for it? The big tough Guardian, wanting his coffee light and sweet and flavored. “Black, please,” she said, offering a smile that felt a bit more normal than her last one had.

Not that it fazed Electra. The mer poured coffee into one of the cups, her movements drawing Jade’s attention to her colorful ensemble.

Gone was the severe style of yesterday—today the mermaid wore a skirt that mimicked the shape of a tail, as all mer fashion did.

Not the scaly green that epitomized the mer, but a multi-colored, multi-faceted creation that Mama would have itched to paint had she seen it.

Her top was a purple that might have looked red in natural light.

Did they even have red down here? That was a thought. She pulled her hair forward and laughed at the strange eggplant color this blue light created.

“You’ll get used to the color tint,” Electra said, watching Jade as she slid a cup of coffee toward her. “Within a few weeks, your eyes will filter it out—or your mind will anyway. Red will look red again.”

Jade dropped her hair and couldn’t keep her shoulders from going tight. “Weeks.”

Electra skewered her with a look as sharp as a blade. Were they on land, Jade would have understood that look. But what did it mean down here, where mer and land-dwellers misinterpreted each other?

No . She couldn’t second guess her every intuition, that would drive her mad.

If she had even the slightest intention of doing down here what she’d always wanted to do, then she had to rely on the gifts the Triada had given her.

Be willing to learn and correct, yes, but if she questioned every thought, she’d end up paralyzed with fear.

And then she’d be nothing but a piece of flotsam, acted upon by the currents but doing no good on her own.

Better to take a risk and be wrong. She met Electra’s glare, held it. “You don’t want me here, do you? Not just here in your house, but at all.”

The mermaid’s brows moved up a little. “It isn’t my place to question my prince.”

Jade breathed a laugh. “If a general can’t question her prince, then who can?”

“No one.” The woman delivered it coolly, evenly, and took a sip of her coffee as if that statement weren’t horrifying, if true.

Jade wrapped her hands around the mug. “Another question, then. Why serve a man who doesn’t value your opinion? Especially when you all are clearly involved in treason.” She was hoping for a reaction from the mer.

All she got was a long blink. “Is it treason to want to live? I thought it a rather basic human right.”

Jade felt her own brows tug down. “How does a coup help you live?”

Electra’s low laugh sounded anything but mirthful.

“Our queen grows weak. Mariana grows strong—strong enough that she is the one making decisions, the one commanding the army. And she’s made no secret of the fact that she disapproves of the philosophy her mother has always encouraged, to create as many Awakened as possible. She has dubbed us all a threat.”

A slash of Electra’s hand and water flew into the room from somewhere outside Jade’s vision, slashed against the wall, and trickled downward.

It put her in mind of the few times she’d seen Mama lose her temper when a painting wasn’t cooperating, how she’d send a paintbrush into a wall and leave a streak of umber or crimson or ochre as testament to her frustration.

Jade took another sip of coffee. “Why? Because she thinks someone among you is stronger?” Was someone stronger? Finn, perhaps?

Electra shook her head. “She thinks we’ve diluted the power available to the mer. That it exists as a pool from which we all partake. So the more Awakened, the less power to go around.”