Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

“Celeste?”

The sound of her mother’s voice stirred Celeste from her deathly sleep. She felt wrung out. Despite the fact Celeste had gone with the Chorus willingly, Xandra still felt the need to bind and gag the princess, if only to keep her from knocking them all unconscious again. They had left her in the palace cell, where she cried herself to sleep. Apparently, after swimming as fast as she could for an entire night, her body simply gave up.

Days had passed. How many, she did not know, for the cells were dark, and she’d slept through most of them.

“Mother?” Celeste croaked, looking up from her place upon the sandy floor.

“You’re finally awake. Praise the Goddess.” Her mother sighed, tension leaving her shoulders. Then her brows knit in concern. “Oh, my little star. What have you done now?”

It was a phrase Celeste had heard all her life. The words were never a firm reprimand and always said with great affection. But the sound of it now cut her deeply. Celeste’s heart twisted as she gazed at her mother. Halia’s usual pristine appearance was gone. No crown or glittering shells adorned her. Behind Halia, King Tidus lingered, his face unreadable. Celeste’s hand went to her shoulder and found her wound was gone. A healer must have visited.

“Keep watch,” Halia said to her husband, resting a hand on his chest.

Celeste’s father nodded and swam down the hall, leaving his wife to unlock the prison door. It swung open with a creak, and Celeste rushed into her mother’s arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Celeste cried, body trembling. Halia’s grip tightened around her daughter.

“I told you not to go,” she said into her hair.

“I’m sorry.”

Halia pulled away, holding her daughter at arm’s length. “You disobeyed me,” she said, anger flaring. The queen let go of her daughter and started swimming back and forth. “What were you thinking? You could have died! You injured General Xandra and endangered the Chorus. And, of all things, you exposed our kind to humans! Do you understand what that means? We could be held in breach of our treaty with Skalvaske and Ayakashi. I told you no, and you did it anyway.”

Celeste rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. She loved her mother, but she knew Halia couldn’t possibly understand why she had done it. And how could she explain herself? Was she to tell her mother that she couldn’t watch the prince die after he tried to rescue his friend? That they looked too much like sirens? Her reasons sounded ridiculous to her own ears.

“And then, instead of listening to your general, like you were told, you risked your life to rescue two humans, one of whom is the son of the man who killed your grandmother .”

The words were a spear to the gut. Halia had only been a couple of cycles older than Shye was now when Queen Celeste had been killed. And even though Celeste had been but three when her namesake died, it was a day she couldn’t forget.

“And”—the anger in her mother’s voice waned—“and the council are considering your actions as treason against the kingdom.”

“I’m sorry,” Celeste repeated, her voice breaking.

Queen Halia, the strongest siren Celeste had ever known, crumpled to the floor. Her eyes shone with restrained tears as she grabbed her daughter’s hands. Celeste froze, watching with wide eyes. She had never seen her mother cry before. Not even the night of her grandmother’s death. Something inside Celeste shattered at the sight. She couldn’t handle seeing the pain she had caused her mother. Yet another wave of tears filled her own eyes, and she wished there was something, anything, she could do to ease her mother’s pain.

“Please listen,” Halia said, her hands shaking. “We don’t have much time. They have not yet reached their verdict. But there can only be one outcome: execution. If you stay here, I will not be able to stop it. But—” She paused, considering her next words carefully. “I have arranged for Helena to escort you safely out of the kingdom.”

Celeste nodded, hope rising in her chest. “So I am to be banished?”

“Not exactly.”

Unease crept down Celeste’s spine.

“I am still queen.” Halia lifted her chin. “The council and I work in tandem, but they are not the rulers of Staria. Before they announce their decision, I can send you on a mission. If you were to right the wrongs you have done?—”

“You mean I have to kill the prince?”

Halia nodded.

“I—I can’t do that,” Celeste said, the hope withering within her. “I couldn’t even sing the Song, let alone kill anything.”

The queen squeezed her daughter’s hands firmly. “Celeste, this is the only way I can think of. You made a grave mistake, and these are the consequences. If you are able to sing to the prince and return with his head, the council will have no choice but to reconsider their verdict.”

Celeste pulled her hands away. “There are many others better trained?—”

“It must be you, Celeste. You must prove to the council your loyalty is to the kingdom.”

“I—I don’t know if I can do this,” the princess stammered.

“I’m sorry, little star. But this is the only way.” Halia touched her hand to the place where Celeste had been stabbed, gently moving her thumb back and forth along the delicate new skin.

King Tidus appeared in the doorway.

“Helena is here,” he said.

Halia pulled her daughter into her arms and squeezed tight. The touch brought a fresh wave of tears to Celeste’s eyes. For it was the first time since she was a child that her mother had embraced her. “Please come home soon.”

“I—” Celeste paused, then softened. “I will, Mother.”

“Good,” Halia said, releasing her daughter and collecting herself.

King Tidus rested his hand on his daughter’s back and guided her gently down the hall and out of the dungeons, leaving the queen behind them.

“Good tides, Princess,” Helena said softly when she saw them approach.

“They’ve been better,” Celeste admitted with a watery smile. In her hands, Helena held Celeste’s beloved spear, which had been taken upon her capture. The sight of it warmed Celeste, just a little. The guard returned it to her, and Celeste’s father helped slide it back into place along her back. The siren king looked down at his daughter, dark circles lining his red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m sorry. I will return soon. I promise.”

He nodded and pulled her into his arms, cradling her close. Another piece of Celeste fractured inside her chest. She couldn’t recall being held by her father. She felt so small in his arms, and she wished desperately that she didn’t have to leave.

“I love you,” he told her.

“I love you too, Father,” she answered, her composure slipping.

His arms released her, and he handed her a sack of rations. Then without another word, the King of Staria turned his back and swam away to return to his wife. Celeste watched him go, waiting until he disappeared from sight.

“Are you ready, Your Highness?” Helena asked.

“No,” Celeste said. “But the sooner I leave, the sooner I may return.”

Helena only nodded. She was quiet as she escorted Celeste away from her home. When they reached the border, she stopped and watched as Celeste swam on alone.

* * *

It was said only the most desperate and depraved sought answers from the Sea Witch. Which explained why Celeste found herself swimming like a current to find her. The water grew cooler as she descended, and the colorful ocean floor she knew disappeared. It was replaced by jagged dark clusters of bland rock. The light from the surface dimmed until it no longer felt like day. A shiver ran down her spine, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear sliding its boney fingers down her spine. Everything around her screamed, You don’t belong here. Turn back now . And if she’d believed she had any other option, she would have. But the prince had not responded to her Song, and she didn’t have any way of finding him on land. So she set her jaw, the echo of her mother’s voice ringing in her ears: I’m sorry, little star. But this is the only way.

Celeste had dreamed of adventure. Had yearned for escape. But now that she had it, she wasn’t sure it’s what she wanted after all. Not like this. She’d never felt so alone in her life. So afraid. All she had was her mission.

She had made this mess, and now she had to fix it.

No matter what she saw in the human prince’s dark eyes—the feelings he stirred within her that she dared not look too closely at—it didn’t change the fact he was a human. A threat. And his father killed her grandmother, a fact she conveniently hadn’t put together until her mother had reminded her. Celeste had only ever wanted to make her parents proud, and now look what she’d done. How she wished she could go back to how things were. If she had to sell her soul to the Sea Witch to return to Staria, she would do it.

Or at least that’s what she told herself.

A shadow passed, and Celeste whipped around to stare blindly after it. Was it a fish? A predator? The Sea Witch herself? She didn’t know what she was looking for or where to go, beyond into the Wasting Waters. Some said the Sea Witch changed shape depending on who visited her, just to manipulate her visitors and get into their heads. Sephone had always said the Sea Witch was a monster. Celeste, ever the optimist, maintained the witch was misunderstood. But all the stories said she would help anyone achieve their wildest desires. At least, so long as they could pay her price.

Celeste’s hand wandered to the strap of her spear, pulling the weapon across her torso. She let her fingers slide over the smooth leather. It was the only thing she could think to barter with. Having grown up a princess, Celeste hadn’t had the opportunity to barter or trade very often. Whatever she wanted, she could ask for. I suppose I could offer the color of my hair, or my eyes. Maybe even a precious memory , she thought as she descended deeper into darkness.

The ocean felt so quiet and lonely down there. Nothing lived in the Wasting Waters. At least, nothing that she could see. There was only empty water around her and sharp rocks beneath. She paused, her certainty beginning to waver. For some reason, she expected there to be a sort of path or clue that would appear to help lead her toward the witch’s grotto. How else could all the desperate souls find it? But for all Celeste knew, she was headed in the wrong direction entirely. Being a siren who prided herself on how well she knew the ocean, it was a disconcerting feeling. But she kept swimming deeper anyway, not ready to try a new direction just yet.

The tips of Celeste’s fingers and tail grew cold. She balled her hands into fists and tucked them under her arms. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. Something as thin as seaweed slithered through the water. She knew at once it was an eel, but she hadn’t seen one like this before. Sensing her gaze, the eel opened its huge triangular jaw. Its head expanded, billowing into a large inflated sphere. Celeste jerked backward and watched as it writhed around, eerie and mesmerizing. It moved toward her, and her heart beat faster. The eels she knew weren’t inherently dangerous. Like most animals, they attacked if they felt threatened. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. Should she swim away? Fight? Stay frozen until it moved on?

She was in uncharted waters.

Something moved behind her. She glanced away from the eel and realized it had not reacted to her at all. Moving gracefully through the water toward them was a shark. Like the eel, this shark was a different species than those she knew, twice the length of her. The fin atop its back was down near its tail. It watched her with large green eyes on either side of its broad, flat head. The creature looked ancient, its closed mouth like an old wound pressed closed. As it moved closer, Celeste turned and saw the eel fleeing into the darkness.

The shark closed in, now only a tail’s length away, and she readied her spear. But the shark only swam past her. Celeste’s shoulders sagged in relief as she watched it continue for several feet, then pause. Strange—it didn’t seem to be hunting. Did it sense a predator even worse than itself nearby? It began swimming again, slowly. Not a predator, then. Its movements almost reminded her of sirens on patrol. After another sweep, the shark moved on.

With no better idea about where to go, Celeste found herself following. The shark did not seem to mind her as it turned south, continuing along the slope of the ocean bottom further and further into darkness. There were no longer many rocks around them, only open ocean. Despite her excellent vision, she couldn’t see anything farther than the shark’s fin in front of her. Maybe this was a bad idea. Water pressed in around her, building in pressure. Her breathing became ragged as the amount of oxygen in the water changed. Sirens could exist in deep waters, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable and took time to adjust. She swam blindly behind the shark for what felt like ages, until she finally saw something in the darkness. Some sort of blue-and-purple light. As she neared, she realized it was a cave with two more identical sharks prowling in front of its glowing entrance.

The shark she followed darted into the mouth of the cave, disappearing into its glowing depths and leaving her staring after it.

“Good tides?” Celeste called into the cave. It felt rude to simply swim in.

No response.

It can’t possibly be worse than an execution , she assured herself as she began to swim forward. But this was a lie. She knew many stories of fates worse than death. As Celeste entered the cave, she prayed this wasn’t the beginning of that sort of story.