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Q ueen Astraea glided through the ocean, grinning at the power that sang through her blood.

Soon, Ryton would return. He’d be triumphant, and there would be no cause to worry about the flood failing.

All would be well. She wished he’d already reported back, but perhaps he was enjoying himself.

Taking time to kill the blooming Earth Queen with style.

Astraea quite liked that idea.

How would he do it exactly? Driving water into her lungs? Spearing her through, limb by limb, to watch her slowly die?

The ocean would devour the human’s blood like it did every other creature’s. This Earth Queen would die, one way or another, as all would die. This one would perish at Queen Astraea’s command.

Schools of silvery longfish broke apart, then fled the queen’s sudden approach, their strategy of clustering together to appear larger forgotten entirely.

The wide-open water went on for miles upon miles. Light drifted from the surface and turned the shallow levels of the water a pale green.

Astraea stretched her arms wide, kicking her feet.

The expanse of her world was marvelous. And it was all under her control.

No one else’s. She was the most powerful creature.

None could force her to submit. Never again would she be the fearful creature of her youth, suffering her mother and father’s slaps and insults, their fingers tight in her hair, the bubbles from their mouths hot and stinking on her cheek.

Never again.

A shark five times Astraea’s size darted from the shadows of a sunken human ship.

The queen’s heart tripped in reaction, but just as quickly, her pulse normalized. This simplebeast was no match for her.

“Take me into your maw if you think you can!” Her magic vibrated around her words like plucked strings.

The ocean tasted of death and blood. This shark had killed recently.

Plunging toward her at a breakneck speed, the shark opened its mouth to show rows of pointed teeth.

The poor beast thought it could end her.

She cackled, bubbles rising from her coral-red lips.

A spell came to her mind, as magic often did, and she raised her arms, speaking the ancient words of power.

Words that were as old as the world itself.

The sounds were hollow, then snapping. Long, then howling.

They were like beasts themselves, set loose to do her bidding.

A floral taste touched the queen’s mouth, her magic’s flavor, and a current whirled to life. As the water rushed away from her, it tried to tangle her tightly knotted blue-green hair. She shifted, and the blast of spelled salt water gushed toward the black-finned shark.

The spell whipped the creature from its path, currents blasting the knife-edge tail and collapsing one entire side of the great body. His head seemed distorted, wrenched down in pain, jaws slack.

Astraea did not stop there.

“You should’ve had the good sense to bow to your queen.”

She poured more of her energy into the spellwork and the whirling currents of white-green. Water drove into the shark’s open mouth. The creature jerked hard, tail slicing the eddies in an instinct to survive, to flee this horror he’d dared to face.

The queen fisted her free hand as her spellwork pummeled the shark toward the sea floor. Her cheeks lifted into a vicious grin and a glint sparked from her eyes as the creature twitched, then grew still.

Without another look, Astraea swam away from her victim. A sense of triumph colored the world in bright shades of blue, green, and gold. This was exactly the way the world was meant to be. With Astraea as the supreme power.

Only in this particular version of life could the queen smile, dance, and swim proudly. If even one beast, simple or high, tread upon her place as ultimate ruler, she’d lose it all.

Her confidence. Her strategic mind. Her magic.

If anyone or anything caused her to submit, her past would crawl out of the darkness and bury her. If she failed to destroy any barrier, any usurper, she would hate herself again. She would see, in her mind’s eye, that little one she had been so long ago.

A sad shadow in a house of fists and degradation.

Her stomach turned at the broken memory.

Fermented sea violets. Their clinging stink.

The way those hands—hands that should have cared for her, loved her—shoved the intoxicating violets down her young throat.

The laughter that scratched against the gray coral walls and pierced her eardrums as well as any bone needle.

Astraea’s legs beat against the water, shaking the memory away. She swam hard and forced a smile. No one would ever submit her to their will. Ever again.

She would die first.

Beyond a wall of waving seagrass, the city of Wode’s Current appeared. Tailors with their shops of pale blue stone lined the main street, which led into a square of sandstone guild houses.

The sea folk bowed as Astraea passed, snippets of their whispered words tickling her ears.

They knew she was headed to a music concert at the house of the wealthiest family in the sea, the size of their fortune second only to her own.

Pearce controlled the pearl trade alongside his quiet wife, Acantha.

At events, Astraea had seen her acting docile and shy, only to suddenly snap into a rage at surrounding young ones.

Most likely, she treated their daughter in such a way.

Pearce claimed their daughter Larisa had a golden voice.

Singing, music, painting—the arts deserved top billing in the world, just behind war and power.

The arts deserved wholehearted respect. If this pearl merchant’s daughter was worth the praise folk were piling on her, Astraea would gladly invite her to court to escape her parents and play for the upcoming battle feast.

And what a celebration it would be.

Soon, Astraea would flood the Lapis territory.

Many sea warriors would be slain. She knew that well.

Such risks deserved reward, so before the flooding commenced, Astraea would welcome her warriors to a grand spread of the ocean’s finest offerings, steamed and seasoned by the castle chefs.

There would be countless pleasures at their fingertips.

It was only right to shower those willing to give up their lives with praise, food, and the best of the arts before the big day.

If only Ryton would hurry. He should’ve been back already. No human could match him in the water.

Surely.

True, this was an Earth Queen he was set on killing, but still. The Earth Queen hadn’t struck out at the sea yet, so she could not be as powerful as Astraea had first feared. So what was taking Ryton so long?

Two rows of blooming firestalks led Astraea to an arched doorway. Between the open doors, Pearce and Acantha stood with twin smiles of welcome.

Astraea swept past them and into their entryway. The marble floors were cool on her bare feet as she walked, head high, the couple scurrying to catch up.

Pearce rambled on and on about improvements made to the house and how pleased they were to have the queen as a guest.

“Yes, yes.” Astraea’s patience thinned. “The audition will be in this room?” She pointed to a set of bright red doors in the center of the home, the usual spot for gatherings in sea folk houses.

Acantha opened the door. “Yes, please go in. The servants will provide you with refreshment.”

Three uniformed servants scattered like startled needlefish as Astraea found a settee and made herself comfortable.

“That is not necessary,” Astraea said. “Let us hear your daughter. Where is she? I don’t have time to linger overlong.”

A thin female with a long face entered the room from a passageway in the back corner. She bowed gracefully to Astraea. So this was Larisa. Her hair was braided neatly on top of her head, pearls threaded so thickly that the room’s luminescent nautili glittered off her as if she herself also glowed.

Astraea smiled genuinely at Larisa, pleased with her demeanor and appearance.

“Please begin when you are ready,” Astraea said in a softer tone that she rarely used. So often, folk disappointed her in the ugly way they spoke or acted. Larisa had more grace than her parents had ever possessed.

“This is our sweet angelfish.” Pearce lifted his chin and held out a hand as if he were presenting a particularly profitable shipment to a prospective buyer. “She is quite—”

Astraea’s gaze cut him off. “She can speak for herself. Can’t you, lovely one?”

Larisa bowed again, her fins rippling gently in the current. “Yes, my queen. Thank you for coming to hear me. I hope I will please you.”

The settee was soft on Astraea’s back. “I’m sure you will.”

Larisa glanced at her parents, then, with their nod of approval, she opened her mouth and sang. Notes swam through the silver bubbles coming from her lips. The sound waves rippled to Astraea’s ears. Low and mellow, high and sweet, the notes tripped and stretched.

Astraea’s heart surged. Only truly astounding music could move her, and here it was, in the flesh. Astraea’s eyes burned as she stood, wanting to get closer, to hear her more clearly, to better take in every line of undulating sound.

A servant near the doors knocked an elbow into the wall, and Larisa’s voice caught and stumbled. She corrected the mistake quite quickly. The hitch resulted from youth and inexperience. That was all. She would grow stronger with time.

At the conclusion of the piece, Larisa’s parents rushed over to apologize to Astraea for the slight mistake.

“Please forgive her, my queen,” Pearce said.

“You deserve better, Queen Astraea,” Acantha said. She turned and slapped Larisa across the face. Blood leaked into the water and hung around Larisa’s head like a crown.

Astraea’s childhood came roaring back. Her family had replaced the pearl merchant, the wife, and Larisa.

She saw her mother’s hand striking and felt her own blood sliding away.

Fear chilled her veins and tried to tell Astraea she would never have power over her own life.

Not with the Touched mark. Not with her parents using her status like pieces on a chess board.

Fury boiled around Astraea’s heart.

On the day she’d cut down her beastly parents, she’d vowed none would have power over her. And in Larisa’s face, Astraea saw her own.

She sped to Larisa’s side, touched the split lip, and said a spell to heal it.

Then Astraea faced Acantha. “How dare you lay your filthy hands on this jewel.”

Memories of her own parents’ cruel hands writhed inside her mind.

Blocking out Acantha’s apologies, Astraea called up a spell, and the water began to churn.

Currents whirled faster than even she could see.

Using her coral spear, she threw the spelled water, and Acantha fell back.

Pearce tried and failed to catch his wife as the magical current twisted her body to smash against the wall.

A garish coral sculpture of a dolphin detached from its mount, the pathetic excuse for artwork crashing into Acantha’s head. Blood poured from the wound as she moaned, and Pearce shouted for his servants. Acantha jerked, then went limp, her body floating in the ruby water. The female was dead.

Larisa started toward her horrible mother, but Astraea stayed the girl with a hand. “You don’t owe that monster a thing, darling. Come with me.”

With Pearce stammering pleas, apologies, and calls to his healer, Astraea swam from the house. Larisa followed quietly in her wake.

“Never let lesser beings diminish you,” Astraea said as they swam through town, nodding to the bowing passersby.

“You have a power in that voice of yours, and you must use it to rule your own little kingdom. A kingdom I’ll create for you at court.

” Astraea smiled. It would be pleasant to have a protégé of sorts.

“But you killed her.” Larisa’s lip trembled. “That was… she was my mother.”

Astraea paused to press a finger to Larisa’s shaking mouth.

“Do not spare another thought for her. Or for your father. You are made for greater things. Acantha would’ve killed you if I’d have let her continue.

Not today. But soon. I know how these things happen.

Trust me. I’m your true patron and supporter. ”

Just then, Astraea remembered that Grystark had asked to speak to her.

He’d argue about the way she’d sent Ryton to slay the Earth Queen.

He’d be worried for his old friend. Such weakness of spirit!

Such vanity to disagree with one’s queen!

She grimaced, her stomach turning as she imagined the spark of judgment in his old eyes.

Smoothing her features, she smiled at Larisa.

“You don’t need those beastly parents, and I won’t allow you to demean yourself by mourning their loss. Don’t worry, little fish. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Your lessons will begin today. I will show you how to bring a soul to heel.”