Page 53 of Sea of Evil and Desire (The Deep Saga #1)

51

Morgana

K ing Neptūnus sat at the head of the stone table in the center of the war room. His long, dark hair was braided at his back. Glass bulbs illuminated the space, casting a soft glow on the stained glass mosaic adorning the back wall: a merman, his spear held high as he battled the largest octopus, the Kraken, while a mermaid, her hair rendered in hundreds of red glass shards, prayed for his safety.

In the middle of the table was a 3D map of what must have been the world, but under the sea. Little stone figurines—Mer, Sirens, monsters, Drowned—were carved out. It was perfect for plotting a battle strategy.

“Welcome again, Morgana,” croaked the Mer version of Mr. Inegar, but his eyes narrowed on me. “King Neptūnus would like to invite you to sit on his council. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the table, where Finn, Pisceon, and Glacies were already positioned around the king.

Was everything down here this formal? It was no wonder they liked visiting the human world.

I eased into the seat beside Glacies, now facing Finn directly.

The colors from the stained glass window danced across all our faces, tinted by the azure water outside. Now and then, the panes would darken with the shadow of an oceanic creature passing by.

There was a short, awkward knock on the door. Mr. Inegar slid over to open it, and Edward walked in.

“You’re late, Drowned boy. Take a seat quietly, and be quick about it,” Mr. Inegar grunted.

Edward hurried over and sat down on the opposite side of Princess Glacies. I leaned behind her head to check on him, and he grinned. He was shooting furtive glances at Pisceon’s oversized chest, which tensed as he conversed with Finn.

“It looked like you enjoyed our hospitality last night.” King Neptūnus’s lips twisted into a smirk, his gaze darting around the room before locking onto mine.

I flushed. When I awoke, I had expected a crushing hangover, but I’d felt fine—spritely, even, like some of the moon wine’s magic lingered.

“So you finally broke the wheel but needed a girl’s help.” The king’s eyes dripped with disdain as he turned to Finn.

Finn ignored his father and addressed the table. “Enough time has been lost. With the wheel broken, Taranis won’t be able to create storms for a while, but his cronies bragged about having an army, and the girl confirmed it.”

The girl?

Finn’s expression was unreadable.

“Yes, Your Highness.” I lifted my chin and met the king’s black eyes. “I came here with Finn to—”

“Who are you to address him thus?” Princess Glacies turned her light blue eyes upon me. “Who is this Finn? He is a prince, and you are—well, I don’t know what you are. A consort of the Drowned, perhaps.” She moved her eyes across my uneven fur covering.

“I apologize, my prince.” I rolled my hands in a mock bow toward Finn. “As you can all see, I am not Drowned but a descendent of the ancient Selkie seals.” I gestured to my body. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, Your Majesty? Isn’t that why you asked Finn— Prince Aigéan—to follow me on land?”

All eyes were turned on me now as I glared at the king.

“You were on land to follow this, this . . . mutant? I thought you were investigating the storms,” Glacies hissed at Finn.

“We are gathered here for a reason! Let’s get to the point before more Mer end up dead.” Pisceon slammed his fist on the table.

“Silence!” The king’s voice rumbled over the table like a nautical wind blowing through rocks. “Let us hear what they have to say.” He was eyeing me now, and I noticed again the small crescent tattoo on his forehead—the same pattern I had on my back.

“Taranis’s cronies confirmed he has an army of thirty thousand Drowned and plans to attack.” I let the breath whoosh from my chest in a sea of bubbles as I studied the king.

“Father, we need to protect our people. The Drowned are stronger under Taranis’s blood magic.” A vein throbbed in Finn’s temple.

The king rubbed his chin with his silver-ringed fingers, muttering under his breath as if piecing together our words.

“So my brother has his army . . .” Cold amusement frosted his face. “Aigéan, how many Mer do we have?” He whipped his gaze to Finn.

“We have around four thousand.” Finn leaned back in his stone chair and lifted his chin in thought. “The Okeanós, Krumós, and Pācificus could each offer another thousand.” Finn turned to the map on the table and moved pieces representing each house into one corner. “The Mors army is small and needs to remain guarding Mortimer, so they’re out.” He left their pieces placed somewhere in what must have been the South Atlantic. “That leaves Niveus with another two thousand.” He smiled at Princess Glacies as he moved a stone Mer from the Arctic Ocean into the cluster in the North Atlantic. “And I’d guess a thousand from Thálassa—”

“Ten thousand!” Pisceon interrupted, raising his dark brows. “To their thirty?”

“So they have more men.” Finn rubbed his chin. “But we have the magic—”

“The strength of our magic is good for nothing but party tricks these days, and you know it, cousin!” Pisceon’s brows drew together in frustration. “Plus, they’re immortal.” He glared at Edward.

“Arrogant ass,” Edward hissed under his breath.

Finn sighed. “Yes, and the Drowned men we fought at the wheel seemed to have some other power. Whether it was blood magic or necromancy, I couldn’t tell.”

Edward shot me a concerned look, and I nodded in confirmation.

“Do you think you can go to the Sirens and ask them to join the cause?” Princess Glacies suggested, toying with her long pale hair while she studied the stone pieces on the board.

“There’s like fifty of them left!” Pisceon exhaled a long breath and then turned away from the table, as if trying to keep his frustration in check.

“No, she’s right.” Finn angled his head as he studied the map. “Their fifty is worth a thousand drowned. They still have their powers.”

“Will their powers be useful, though?” Pisceon toyed with the Siren figurine thoughtfully. “It’s mostly mind illusions and light weaving—and, of course, allure, but we have that in spades.” He smirked.

King Neptūnus glared at him. It was clear jokes weren’t appreciated at his table.

“We should push up your marriage date.” He turned to his son, and his black eyes glittered. “We need the Niveus close.”

“My people will come to your aid, I assure you.” Princess Glacies stiffened.

Finn brushed off his father’s comment. “We should marry after the battle. I see no time for festivities.”

“You will marry when I say you will marry,” the king snarled, looking between Princess Glacies and his son.

I swallowed and looked at Finn. His eyebrows were drawn and mouth tight as he surveyed the pieces on the board. Was he purposely ignoring his father? I glanced at the king, but his eyes were on me. They had taken in my stiff throat and lingering gaze on his son. His lips curled back from his teeth, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. I made my face neutral, cursing the heat I felt spreading from my ears to my cheeks.

“Do you think Taranis has reforged Manannán’s alliance with the sea monsters?” Finn let his hand hover over the squid-shaped statue on the board and made eye contact with his father, perhaps trying to change the subject.

“The beasts were always quick to join Manannán, but their strength is not what it once was.” The king nodded slowly as he surveyed the board.

“What about the Lugh Sirens?” Pisceon leaned forward and let his tattooed forearm flex somewhere over the Irish Sea. “Their magic is more practical than the houses of Kaimana, Sundara, and Agápē.”

“Are you serious?” Finn turned to face him. “They’re too busy lining their pockets with the coins of man. They wouldn’t even remember the ways of the seas.” His voice was icy, and his gaze flicked to me.

“At least they have survived the Shadow. That’s more than we can say,” Pisceon muttered, rubbing his neck.

“By sleeping with humans? They are but half-breeds.” The king swung his head around to survey Pisceon in a beast-like manner. “ Humans are the ones who got us into this mess in the first place . . . with their need to conquer . . . their endless greed. They created the Shadow. It was their God who brought this curse upon us.”

The voices around the table began to blur as they continued arguing. Something wasn’t right. I grasped the arms of the sandstone chair, the grains digging into my palms as bile licked at the back of my throat. Manannán had returned, and I was descended from Siana. Was Finn, Prince Kyano, Siana’s other lover who had made Manannán jealous enough to start the great battle?

No, no, no! I had not come here to start a war, but to end one.

“Wait a minute!” I slammed my webbed fist upon the table, rattling the stone pieces. “Can’t you see what you’re doing?” All eyes snapped to me. “If you go to war against Taranis, you are repeating history—just like the curse wants!”

“How very Selkie of you.” King Neptūnus threw back his head and laughed. His hands, which rested on the table, shook with him, his many rings tapping the table in unison.

Finn was leaning back with one arm draped over his chair. He ran the other through his dark curls as if contemplating what I had said.

“We are all creatures of the ocean.” I pulled my cherry hair off my shoulder and gestured to the crescent moon on my back so the king could see it reflected the same inky pattern as the one on his brow. “Shouldn’t we be working together to stop this . . . this shadow?”

“The Shadow is man’s fault!” he roared, glowering at Edward. “We must defeat my brother, or Drowned will rule the Kingdom of the Deep. First, he took my wife, and now he comes for the throne.” The whole room rattled like a tidal wave had crashed across its roof.

“But you cannot win,” I cried. “All your people will die! Is that what you want?”

“Morgana.” Finn brought his forearms back onto the table and shot me a look of warning.

The king laughed again, and his black eyes shone. “But we have something that my brother does not have . . .”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” I breathed, narrowing my eyes on him.

He stopped laughing, and the gills in his neck flared as he snarled, “ You .”

Time froze as fear flooded my being. I looked from the king’s glistening eyes and over to Finn. He was staring at his father, mouth agape.

“What are you waiting for? Seize them!” the king bellowed, turning to Pisceon, and the war room reverberated.

“Please, no,” Edward whispered to my right.

Pisceon pushed back his chair and moved around the table toward us.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?” Finn cried. His dark brows were knotted in confusion.

I felt Pisceon’s presence at the back of my chair.

“Do not touch her!” Finn’s snarl rumbled through the room like a clap of thunder across a stormy sea.

“You dare to challenge me, boy.” The king swung his head to his son as he spat out the words.

Finn didn’t flinch.

“I said seize them!” the king cried again.

A pearl-cloaked guard from the door rushed to grab Edward. He let out a frightened squeak but then turned and punched the Mer right in the face. His fist collided with the guard’s jaw and the side of his helmet simultaneously.

“Argh, bollocks.” Edward sucked in a breath and shook his wrist.

The guard blinked, then lunged at Edward again.

I drew my dagger. I was not going back down to those dungeons. We were not going back. With a kick of my webs, I was out of my stone chair and facing Pisceon.

A second guard had helped his colleague detain Edward. He thrashed as they held both of his arms. His face was pale, and his eyes were defeated.

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

Pisceon lunged for me, but he was thrown against the wall by something—a force I couldn’t see but felt move past us. A crashing wave.

“I said don’t touch her, cousin!” Finn was out of his chair, eyes flashing, and his fists were claws again.

The water in the room started to swirl. His dark hair was astray, and he continued to hold Pisceon against the sandstone wall with the force of an invisible wave.

The king swung his head from his son and back to me and laughed—a hollow, chilling sound.

One of the guards left Edward’s side and approached Finn, drawing a shining silver sword. He lunged, but Finn was ready.

He met the blade with a blade made from particles of water and mist, barely visible against its watery surrounds. The guard’s metal sword and Finn’s watery sword clashed. They held them there while staring each other down.

A sharp, manic laugh tore from the king. “Foolish boy !” he cried.

With an effortless flick of his wrist, lightning skittered from the tips of his fingers, and Finn was encompassed by it. The lightning forked across his muscular torso, simmering in jagged lines like a network of glowing scars. Finn’s face contorted in pain, and his watery sword disintegrated.

I tried to rush to him, but Pisceon, now freed from his place on the wall, grabbed me and held me against his chest. “Sorry for this,” he whispered into the side of my head. “What Daddy Neptūnus says goes.”

Finn’s body convulsed as the lightning continued to crack across it, and his face buckled with agony, but he didn’t cry out. He kept his eyes on his father, and they were cold.

I twisted in Pisceon’s grip, loosening one shoulder and flailing as I tried to escape. Somehow, his fist found the side of my face—whether by accident or on purpose, I couldn’t tell.

Pain blinded me, and my ears rang. That moment was all it took for Pisceon to use his strong biceps to put me in a headlock with one arm while holding my dagger wrist with the other.

“Where did you get that blade?” The king’s eyes widened with what looked like fear.

“Enough!” I cried, shaking my shoulders against Pisceon’s grasp.

Finn floated above the table as the lightning continued to wreath him, unconscious now. Or at least I hoped that was all he was. Surely, the king wouldn’t kill his only son and heir.

“Can’t you see that hate has created more hate for many years? This is exactly what the curse wants. Violence is not the answer.”

“Take them away and destroy the girl’s blade!” the king roared.

“No,” I pleaded. This was wrong. I knew it in every inch of my being.

No, no, no—

I thrashed against Pisceon’s grasp, clawing at his biceps with my webbed fists. We would not be returning to those dungeons. I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders within his firm grip.

I focused on my breathing: in and out. In and out.

I scrunched my eyes and searched for that power I knew was inside me.

The silver orb flickered.

Power comes from the heart.

I reached for it as I imagined myself free of Pisceon’s grasp. I imagined it not as something I wanted but as something that already existed in the plane of the unlimited. That was when I felt the surge. Power traveled up my arms until it crackled from every inch of me, a light-calming power that filled the room with gentle strength and ancient presence.