Page 46 of The Merman’s Betrothal (Outcast Hearts #2)
T he current surged through Rory’s chest, pouring his soul into Fionn’s like a tsunami filling an empty lagoon.
He was dimly aware of the uproar around them grinding to a halt. From the moment Neacel had guided Rory past the invisible barrier at the boundary stones, he’d been too high on adrenaline to take in all the details.
The whale mother provided the perfect distraction by luring the guards outside to deal with her strange behaviour.
Rory and the others simply slipped inside a nearby arch while the guards threw up their hands and shouted between themselves about what the hell they were supposed to do to stop a humpback whale from apparently scratching her back against their palace.
Acha and the leatherback then ran interference against any Minchman trying to intercept their desperate dash for the throne room. Neacel led the way and entered first—he allowed himself to be caught by a pair of guards just so Rory could get past.
Inside the throne room Rory glimpsed a motley wedding crowd: dour Bluefolk with tight braids and shells woven into their kilts, and a party of lithe red-skinned and red-finned strangers that must be the Redfolk. Their bodies were covered in scars rather than tattoos.
Then he’d spotted Fionn rising out of a kelp canopy in the middle of the chamber. Rory lunged—
And now Fionn was in his arms and the soul bond thumped gloriously loud and real between them.
Rory grudgingly dragged his lips away from Fionn’s. The unabashed awe shining in Fionn’s eyes was enough to make any proud man’s knees buckle.
The hostility from the audience watching was now palpable. Rory realised he hadn’t put an ounce of thought into what might happen after he got to this point.
The first to speak was the tallest Redfolk merman.
His spines were flexed stiff, much longer and meaner-looking than Rory’s, and his dark-crimson hair was topped with a shining silver crown that appeared to be shaped of thorns.
Everything about him was sharp . Including his accusation: ‘ What is this treachery? ’
He was flanked by two broad red mermen brandishing scowls and silver spears. They had no spines protruding from their backs but their fins looked razor-sharp.
As soon as these red goons lifted their spears, the blue guards holding onto Neacel swivelled with their own weapons at the ready. Poor Neacel was like a ragdoll hanging between them, one guard clamped on each arm.
‘ Lower your weapons, ’ barked one of the Minchmen.
This one had silver hair like Fionn’s and also wore a crown, though it was made of the same greenish-bronze as the Minch spears.
He wasn’t so large as his red counter-part but he commanded the room nonetheless.
The blue mermen hesitantly lowered their spears but still kept a tight hold of Neacel.
‘ That your dad? ’ Rory asked Fionn as quietly as he could manage.
Fionn nodded back, then glared at the imposing red merman with the silver crown. ‘ And that is the Red King Rhiath. ’
The Red King’s guards didn’t relax an inch, keeping their spears menacingly pointed at more or less the entire chamber. King Rhiath took up a position between them. The water around him undulated with heat from the fury in his DeepSong.
‘ Even I did not think you would be so foolish as to blight the marriage bargain, Aonghas. What trickery have you employed to achieve this? ’ The Red King’s finned arm swept broadly in Rory and Fionn’s direction, though he didn’t care to even glance their way.
By contrast, the Blue King’s song was absent of any obvious emotion. His words were only tense and flat. ‘ No trickery, Rhiath. No blight. We shall find the truth immediately. ’
The rest of the blue congregation backed off into the furthest reaches of the curved room, all their attention anchored on the Blue King who now swam towards Rory and Fionn.
Rory couldn’t read the merman’s expression: it was dark like a brewing storm, yet Rory could have sworn it was apprehension rather than anger that fuelled the thunder in the Blue King’s gaze.
‘ Fionn. Explain. ’
Familiar fear billowed from Fionn’s side of the soul bond.
Rory clasped Fionn’s hand tightly and snapped to his side, staring down the Blue King like any other wannabe-big-man at the docks.
Except Rory wasn’t just posturing for his own dignity this time; it was for Fionn’s, and for their right to live the way they chose.
There was a real threat in the way Rory’s other fist curled.
Controlled anger, this time. Purposeful anger, to defend what he loved.
The king’s gaze flicked blankly over Rory and back to Fionn.
Fionn’s nerves settled, soothed by Rory’s frankly audacious protectiveness pouring through the bond. Fionn lifted his head high.
‘ This is Rory Douglas and he is my mate, ’ Fionn announced to a slew of gasps from the crowd.
‘ Treason, ’ hissed the Red King.
Fionn raised his voice. ‘ I met Rory on land, thinking he was human. Our soul bond ignited spontaneously because of the Redfolk blood in Rory’s veins. ’
Rory flexed his arm fins for effect. There were some troubled murmurs happening among the Redfolk contingent.
‘ Lies. You have engineered this bond. ’ The Red King spoke directly to the Blue King. ‘ Do you think you can thwart the marriage bargain simply by replacing it with a bond you have ignited yourself? You are worse than a fool! ’
‘ I have done no such thing, ’ the Blue King replied levelly. ‘ And to suggest so is also treasonous. How can I be sure that this circumstance is not due to the machinations of your people? ’
‘ What would I gain from this? ’ the Red King spat.
The Blue King appeared to shrug. ‘ I wouldn’t presume to know your motivations. ’ He gave an elegant flick of his fingers in Rory’s direction. ‘ But the boy is clearly Redfolk, after all. ’
Rory riled inwardly at boy, but knew it was the wrong thing to get hung up on right now. He couldn’t tell whether the Blue King was on their side. It felt like Fionn didn’t know either.
Whatever the case, Rory was done being just a spectator in his own life.
He thrust himself forward, making sure his fins and spines took up as much space as possible.
‘ I’m not with them, ’ he cocked his head at the Redfolk, ‘ or with them, ’ he jabbed a finger at the Bluefolk, ‘ I’m just me.
And I’m sure it’s a real bastard of a thing that I’ve gotten caught up in your wedding plans, but that’s how it is.
This is all in line with your curse thing anyway, right?
Fionn’s got his bond. I’m one of you so it shouldn’t matter. It’s the same thing. ’
Ah, shit, he was butchering it. Public speaking was never a big part of creel fishing. Rory trailed off with a note of uncertainty colouring his song.
Then Fionn drew next to him, supporting him. ‘ One might call it fate, father. ’ His song was imploring. ‘ I thought Rory was my soul mate. Truly, I still do. ’
Oh, Christ, the blue idiot was side-eyeing Rory with a practically shy fucking smile. The part of Rory that was silently panicking under all the attention couldn’t help but melt a little.
‘ Yup, ’ Rory added gruffly. ‘ We’re probably meant to be together. We’ve decided to be, anyhow .’
If the water around the Red King had been simmering before, it was boiling now. ‘ There is no deciding. We decide. We —’
‘ I do not think so. ’
All heads turned to a blue Minchman as he entered the room.
Rory pegged him as an elder of some sort because of the grey streaks in his dark blue hair.
But he was buff for an elder. No flab or loose skin whatsoever, it was all muscle.
He carried a bronze spear strapped to his back and a heavy clay tablet in his hands.
The blue side of the chamber parted to let him through without question.
The Blue King greeted him with a strangely mild tone. ‘ It is unlike you to be late, Iomhar. ’
The old Minchman’s smile was grim as he surveyed the assembly. ‘ I am much later than I hoped to be. ’ Iomhar nodded to Fionn and Rory, then turned to address the chamber. He held up the clay tablet.
‘ I have here a record of the marriage bargain as it was laid out between our tribes six hundred years ago. “The First Prince shall be soul bound to the first Redfolk kin he lays eyes on.” These are the words as they are written, as they were agreed upon, as the magic acts upon.’
The Red King looked ready to explode. ‘ We do not need a history lesson, old man, ’ he snarled. ‘ Get to your point before I cut it out of you. ’
‘ The first Redfolk he lays eyes on, ’ Iomhar repeated, enunciating his song precisely.
He made a large sweeping gesture at the chamber with its kelp banners and its nervous congregation.
‘ Those are the terms of the bargain. Everything else, the wedding ceremony, the blindfold, even your choosing of his betrothed… these are all decoration. Symbols. Atmosphere. ’
It seemed Iomhar winked at Fionn. Like he’d just shared a private joke.
The Blue King stirred. He had been floating with his head tucked against his chest, engulfed in grave contemplation.
Iomhar’s speech apparently struck a chord in his thoughts.
‘ He is right, Rhiath. The bargain has been fulfilled. Anything we attempted here would have been null and void as a result. ’
Another Redfolk, one who looked like a young man and had been hanging keenly onto every word on the edge of their circle, now spoke up with hope in his song. ‘ Do you mean to say our betrothal would go against the terms of the bargain, because it has already been satisfied? ’
Rory gave the young Redfolk a quick, scathing appraisal. Too tall and lanky, and he had a raspy quality to his DeepSong. This was the man Fionn would have ended up marrying? He was no competition, Rory decided.
It wasn’t until much later that Rory realised his first impression of the guy came from mis-placed jealousy. As it was, Rory clamped an arm around Fionn’s shoulders just to stake his claim again.