Hearing her parents’ voices echoing in the Grand Chamber, Everly
quickly changed direction toward her private chamber. Better to collect her
thoughts and strategize first.
Her best friend and assistant, Salima, was waiting for her. As a
Jengu, Salima had her clan’s characteristic dark skin and regal features, with
stick-straight posture. Yet Salima’s brown eyes were always sad. She had lost
most of her family in a sudden oil spill several years before, and had never
again regained the quick wit that had endeared her to Everly when they were
young.
“How was your day, my lady?” asked Salima, handing Everly her
golden breastplate in return for the gauzy dress. Everly furrowed her brow –
she hated when Salima called her that - and lifted the gold chain carefully
from around her neck.
“I may be in over my head. I’m making progress, that’s for sure.
Porter Biltmore may already be an agent for change with the Biltmore projects,
and he and his cousin are really good, strong-willed people. I’m just in two
minds about whether or not to tell him everything - whether he’s kindred enough
to absorb everything I have to tell him. And then, he’s...” Everly trailed off,
and she bit her lip.
Salima crossed the room from Everly’s enormous tortoiseshell
table, where she had just placed the contents of Everly’s linen bag on an
intricate silver tray. She inclined her head to look into Everly’s eyes. “And,
what? Are you in love with him?”
Everly forced herself to laugh, turning to place her gold
necklace, Maanga, into the swirl of a conch. There was a click as the living
shell clamped down on the necklace. “Of course not! I’m there for the mission,
you know that. But there’s a chance that he’s getting...too close. It will help
me, but he’s a good person and I don’t want to mislead him.”
Salima softened. “Ev. You’ve worked hard to be fair and honest
with everyone in your life. If he’s attached to you, it’s not because of
anything you’ve done, I’m sure of that. Now,” she said, picking up the silver
tray. “Let me take this over to Aratis before she sends a Kemath over for it.”
Everly watched Salima leave, and then let her shoulders slump. It
was the first time in her life that she hadn’t been completely honest with
Salima.
Tying her long locks behind her so that they wouldn’t get in her
way, Everly made her way back to the Grand Chamber, where her mother was
hearing a complaint from a Selkie.
Inside the Grand Chamber, the lumins planted around the perimeter
of the floor cast a bright, bluish glow around the entire room, while hundreds
of stoplight fish, deaf and mute, stared unblinkingly in columns up and down
the walls that reached several floors above, providing reddish circles of
illumination up to the glittering ceiling. Balconies carved of rare limestone
reached to the top of the Chamber, allowing clan members to observe official
proceedings. Directly under the first tier of balconies, above the Seat of the
High Mermaid, was written in gold the motto of the Matsyajanas: “Samastha Loka Sukhino Bhavantu.” May all
beings in all the worlds be happy, and may our actions contribute to that
happiness.
“My lady,” drawled the Selkie to the High Mermaid Rasily, “My
ancestors found the Guernsey copper trench and began mining operations there a
hundred years ago. And now just because it was left alone for a few years -
while my clan deals with the constant intruders, by the way - I find that it
has been taken over without a word by a group of Matsyas! As clan head, you
must intervene.”
Rasily leaned forward, her face inscrutable as shadows danced
around the massive carved trident, inset in the wall. Her golden seat was
perched atop the middle prong of the trident, the symbol of her clan. “I
recognize your concern and honor your submission. However, this matter involves
resources which benefit all of us, and therefore it must be heard by the full
tribunal. Please,” she said, raising her hand to silence any further protest,
“Present the situation there at the new moon.”
Clearly angry, but aware that another word would have a Kemath
trident escorting him from Saundarya, the Selkie turned his back on Rasily and
disappeared. As the last hearing of the day, the chamber slowly cleared,
leaving just a handful of advisors, Rasily’s personal Kemath, and the
never-blinking stoplights. Rasily sighed and turned towards her husband, who
stood to her right.
“The Selkies grow more impatient and irrational. I wonder that
Revolula cannot do more to keep them in line. They become more antagonistic
towards other clans daily.”
Talisan took Rasily’s hand. “Don’t forget that Revolula is
outnumbered by Trimorgan’s supporters, who all embrace his outlandish ideas
about government. If there is to be conflict, I’d wager that it will be
intra-clan, contained among the Selkies, within the walls of Arcis Forturi. But
I very much hope that Revolula can transform the Selkies before it comes to
that.”
Everly cleared her throat and switched to her clan tongue. “My
lady.”
Rasily turned, surprised, and smiled as she saw Everly. “Ah, my
lady.” As the current and future rulers, Rasily and Everly were obliged to
maintain decorum in public settings, whichever language they were speaking.
Everyone had always said that Everly was a carbon copy of her mother, with her
black hair and glowing brown skin - but her disarming green eyes came from
Talisan. Rasily turned to the few remaining advisors. “You are dismissed, thank
you.”
As they left, Everly turned to her father and gave him a warm hug
around his ever-widening belly. His red beard tickled her face. “Father. How
was your day?”
Talisan stroked Everly’s hair. “Enjoyable as always, my dear. I
spent some time with the books this morning, looking at the new acquisitions,
until your mother asked me to attend the afternoon hearings.”
“How is your work going, Everly?” Rasily never wasted time on
pleasantries if she could help it. She was proud of her intelligent and
even-tempered daughter, but she worried that even Everly may not be able to
handle the rising clan tensions when it came her time to rule. All the more
reason Everly’s mission was so important.
Everly looked straight at her mother. “Mother, I’ve brought back
several new acquisitions today; they are with Aratis now. I’ve also learned
more about the social structure in the Hamptons, which seems to mirror that of
New York. But because most of them are not working in the Hamptons, the people
are often less guarded, which could be useful for our work. I’ve also,” she
continued, swallowing, “made friends with two members of the Biltmore family.
Porter Biltmore is Julian Biltmore's son, and being groomed to take over the
company one day. I believe that he is already 18 and may therefore have some
legal duties or privileges with the Biltmore Fund. But Porter is kind,
intelligent, and progressive - exactly the sort of ally we want in this
mission."
Rasily’s face grew stormy. “We don’t ally with the Biltmores,
Everly. We seek relations with the people, true, but don’t forget what the
Biltmore Fund is responsible for.”
Everly held her mother’s eye contact calmly. “I haven’t forgotten.
Salima is a daily reminder, and of course the ABYSS project is the entire
reason I’m on this mission. But I didn’t know until Porter told me today, that
nearly all of the Biltmore projects
focus on the deep sea. Mother, do you know the reason for such singular focus?”
Rasily began to speak, then stopped herself. “Talisan. Please give
us a few moments alone.” Ever dutiful, Talisan retreated, squeezing Everly’s
hand as he left. Rasily and Everly were now alone in the Grand Chamber with the
stoplights.
“Everly. It is the privilege of the young to make mistakes that
they may laugh about when they grow older. It is a privilege everyone
enjoys...except us, the rulers. The mistakes we make can have lasting
consequences, which is why you have always been taught to be so careful. And
you have made us proud.”
Everly waited for Rasily to continue. Rasily slipped off her
golden seat and circled around Everly.
“Everly...when I was young, I used Maanga just as you do now, to
see the people and learn from them. I believed then, as I do now, that good
relations are the way forward as the world gets smaller and our waters become
crowded. I met their governments, befriended men like Harry Wexford who could
help us. But I made a mistake. I fell in love.”
Despite herself, Everly’s eyes widened. “With...one of them?”
Rasily sighed. “This was at the beginning, when I thought I could
influence the projects, build collaborations like Nartira did with Ptolemy in
Alexandria. He's not in a dissimilar position, you know. Ruler of the financial
world.”
Everly gasped. “You mean...?”
“Julian Biltmore.” Rasily swept in front of Everly, looking
stricken. “When I knew him, he was ambitious and engaging, the most popular man
in New York. He was just about to start his company, and we were so
close..." Her voice faltered. "I knew a future would be difficult,
maybe impossible. But I thought we could be partners in some way. I could help
him maximize the value of his projects, give him exclusive access to certain of
our resources, and he could ensure that the rest of them set some boundaries,
safeguarded our waters and our wards.”
“I waited as long as I could to tell him. I tried giving him
advice about his first projects, but he ignored me. He cared about me, I know,
but he wanted a woman who would preside over his business dinners, look
beautiful in front of his friends. Not a...woman who would teach him his
business.”
Rasily's eyes flashed. “When I told him...about me, about the
clan...he transformed. I couldn't recognize the man before me, who had begged
me to spend my life with him. He raved for hours, saying that I was crazy, this
would ruin him, and that he wouldn't...”
Rasily cleared her throat angrily, the noise echoing up to the
ceiling, which seemed to sparkle furiously with each sound. “He wouldn't
associate with someone like me. He used the word ‘freak,’ which I had never
heard before. And then he threw me out.”
Everly kept her face down, her head spinning. Porter had alluded
to his father's temper and mercurial nature, but this was altogether another
story. Yet it was starting to make sense, how the wrongdoing of the Biltmore
Fund bore the hallmarks of this monstrous Julian Biltmore. But then...
“So this is his revenge? Everything over the past twenty years has
been a personal vendetta?”
Rasily regained her composure. “I believe it is more complicated
than that. I knew he loved me once, but part of his love turned to hatred for
my kind. He never understood my rank, we didn't even get to that conversation.
No, I believe he used his anger and frustration with our doomed relationship to
take revenge, but also to see if he could find me again. Needless to say, I
will never give him that satisfaction.”
Everly laid a hand on her mother's arm. “You know...you know
Julian was married? His wife died some time ago, in a sailing accident. Porter
still remembers it well, he said it was a freak storm. Did you know about the
accident? Was it...” Everly paused. “Mother, forgive me, but was it a normal
storm?”
Rasily gently moved away, her back to Everly. “I had heard, yes.
I'm sure it was a normal storm. An accident.”
Before Everly could push further, she sat heavily on her perch.
“In any case, I came back. You know I was to marry Lucien, but he was so
committed to the Kemathia. And when he was killed protecting Arcis Forturi from
that terrible hydrate emission - again, the hands of the humans - I married
your father. Talisan is so different from his brother, but you know how I have
relied on his counsel and support. I see now how foolish I was to think...that
Julian...”
Rasily fell silent. Everly had just one more question. “Does
Father know? About Julian?” Talisan was devoted to Rasily and Everly. His easy
manner and many kindnesses had endeared him beyond just their clan, and he was
one of the most highly respected consorts in their history. The last thing
Everly wanted was for Talisan to ever be disrespected, as he doubtless would be
if this story were widely known.
“No,” said Rasily. “No one does. Except you, now.”
Everly needed to retreat, to think hard about what she'd learned.
“Thank you, my lady,” she murmured, moving towards the vaulted doorway.
Rasily called after her, her voice urgent. “Everly. The only
reason you needed to know that story was as a warning. These people are not our
friends. They are not our allies. In time we may pursue mutually beneficial
agreements, but that's all. Make sure that is all there is between you and the
Biltmores.”
Everly stopped and measured her words. “I will be careful, as I
always am in matters of our security.” She turned to face her mother. “But
Porter Biltmore is not like his father.”
Seeing Rasily's eyes narrow, she held up her hand. “He is nothing
like his father,” she repeated.
Everly quickly left the Grand Chamber, hearing her mother call for
Talisan as she disappeared back into her own chamber.
Reclining on her enormous blue seaweed-stuffed cushion, Everly
massaged her eyes. Salima must have taken several of the stoplights with her,
the chamber was darker than usual. No matter, they would come back in when the
night meal was brought in. Merupu and the Kemathia would be finishing their
meals now - those who sacrificed to protect or serve the clans ate first, and
the clan members would then eat the remainder. Except for the last set of wars
centuries before, food was always plentiful, thanks to the clan consorts.
Talisan, in particular, had always been an expert at leading the Matsyajana
consorts in gathering robust hauls for the clan. Although now, Everly smiled to
herself, his large belly slowed him down a bit.
Salima re-entered, bearing a large golden tray with Everly’s night
meal. “Everly,” she began, her voice slightly quavering as she handed the tray
to Everly. “I chanced upon--”
“Me,” said a silky-smooth voice. Dimly, Everly watched a shadowy
figure enter behind Salima, recognizable instantly by the white-blond hair,
aquiline nose, and muscled build underneath a gleaming bronze breastplate. The
Selkies were built for seduction, that stereotype was certainly true. Salima
glanced nervously at Everly and murmured an excuse, retreating to her own
chamber. Everly did not change her expression, removing the tray lid and
beginning her meal. “Rogan. Haven’t they served the night meal at Arcis Forturi
yet?”
Rogan smiled, the dim light casting shadows around his
supercilious expression. “Didn’t anyone tell you that it’s rude to eat in front
of a guest, Meria? Or is that now your prerogative?”
Everly and Salima had known Rogan since they were all clan
youngers. They had studied together for years, and Everly had watched in dismay
as Rogan, once playfully obnoxious towards her as a brother would be, had
slowly grown into a rebel who aimed for the clan leadership despite the
matrilineal hierarchy. One who, Everly suspected, even eyed the High Seat.
Salima, uncharacteristically gentle for a Jengu, had always had a weakness for
Rogan and his Selkie looks, even when he teased her mercilessly. And now Rogan
called her “Meria” constantly – what was a traditional honorific for females of
the ruling clan became an insult from his tongue.
“Didn’t anyone tell you, Rogan, that it’s rude to interrupt the
night meal in someone else’s home? Or was your father unsuccessful in bringing
back a haul with the others today? I’m happy to share, Rogan.” Everly couldn’t
resist a slight dig, knowing that it would set off Rogan’s short temper. He
grew bolder by the day.
Rogan’s face clouded. “You should know better than to insult
Trimorgan, Everly. He’s popular even in your own clan. Although perhaps you’re
not concerned with our clans anymore? I hear you have some new...friends...”
Everly was instantly on her guard. Although the clans knew that
she was using Maanga, the details of her visits to shore were largely secret.
Only her parents and Salima knew about Porter and Skylar. Salima. Everly sighed
to herself.
“I’m not sure to whom you’re referring, Rogan, but my work has
been making good progress, which is all that you need to know.”
Rogan sat heavily on the cushion next to her, nearly dislodging
her plate, then thought better of it when he saw her face and stood again. “I’m
pretty sure it’s everyone’s business if you’re getting too close to any of
them, Everly. My clan has never supported this idea that cooperation with them
will improve our lot, and things have only gotten worse under your mother and
grandmother’s rule. Look at what happened to your uncle, Lucien. The Selkies
are indebted to him to this day. Look at what happened to Salima. If you’re
going to persist in this crazy scheme to infiltrate them, then at least find
out a way to destroy them. Or I will.”
Everly laughed out loud. “Empty threats, Rogan. I haven’t yet
heard of the Selkies finding a way to enter their world, other than the Merrow.
Even we, the Matsyajanas, are limited by Maanga. And given their technology,
our clans run a real risk of extinction if we provoke a war with them. But,”
her face grew cold, “I don’t dismiss threats lightly, empty or otherwise.”
Everly rose, and a disturbance, similar to a whirlpool, began in
the darkness above her head. Rogan eyed it warily. “What brought you here
tonight? Was it just to gather information for the poisonous members of your
clan who want to subvert Matsya rule? Was it to show off your leadership skills
by insulting me and my family? There was a time, Rogan, when I considered you a
friend, someone whose counsel I could trust. And now...” She looked him up and
down. “I should have you removed by my Kemath. But this time, I will ask you to
leave on your own. And if you have anything to say to me in the future, you can
say it in the Grand Chamber in front of an audience. I don’t believe your
bravura will hold there.”
Everly took a deep breath, and the disturbance cleared. Rogan was
furious, but would not be seen being thrown out of Saundarya by the Kemathia.
He picked up his harpoon, and Everly noted it. It was illegal to carry a harpoon
within a clan palace. What was Rogan guarding against?
“You do your precious work, Meria Everly,” he said quietly,
cupping her chin. “And I will do mine. You and I could have joined forces
against the intruders, united the clans, but you’ve become weak. I’ll be
watching you with our new friends, trust me.”
“There is a way to properly debate politics and strategy, Rogan,
and you never learned it. I’m sorry that our friendship has withered so.”
Rogan’s eyes flashed as he disappeared. Everly clapped for a Kemath.
He appeared instantly, his enormous trident flashing near his silver
breastplate. Behind him trailed several stoplights, who resumed their places
around Everly’s chamber. Her pale shimmery walls again glowed, and Everly
suddenly felt relieved. The Kemath bowed low. “May I serve, Meria?”
“Please give word - quietly, without publicity - to the Kemathia
that Rogan and Trimorgan are no longer to enter the private chambers at
Saundarya. They must be escorted to the Grand Chamber if they wish to speak to my
mother or myself. And please,” Everly rubbed her forehead, “notify Salima that
I would like to speak to her.”
The Kemath bowed low, and quickly left. Within a few moments,
Salima entered, looking nervous. “Ev?”
Everly smiled. “Salima, we’ve been friends for a long time. You
and my father are the closest people to me.”
Salima returned her smile. “I know. Since...the accident, I rely
on your friendship more than ever.”
“Sal, things are changing between the clans. The elders believe
that all of the hardships we’ve faced over the past twenty years are tearing
the clans apart. I know that my mother thinks a war is brewing. If so, all of
us, the rising youngers, will be the ones to bear it.”
“That’s why it is so important that my mission succeeds. If we can
stop them from attacking us or taking our already shrinking resources, we might
be able to restore our unity. But right now, I have to be careful because there
are those - like Rogan - who think war will solve our problems and will try to
stop me from my mission. Please, Salima. I know we were like a family when we
were young, and I miss the person that he used to be. And I don’t want you to
stop being his friend - he needs good people around him. But my friendship with
him is ending, and I need to keep my work from him and the Selkies until it is
successful. Can you keep my secrets?”
Salima lowered her head, her face in shadow. “Of course, Everly.
I’m sorry. I just feel like he’s drifting further away.”
“I understand. Keep him as close as you want to, but without
information about me. I really don’t want him trying to interfere with Porter
or Skylar.”
Salima hid her smile. “You really feel for this Porter, don’t
you?”
Everly rested her chin in her hands, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t
know, Sal. I just don’t know.”
Salima drifted around the chamber, waving her hands in the water
around the stoplights to move them further up the walls and darken the area
around Everly’s cushion. She picked up the meal tray. “Sleep on it, Ev. That’s
what you always tell us to do.”
Everly closed her eyes and readied herself for the dreams to come.
Gold, harpoons, guacamole, young Rasily...and the warmth of Porter Biltmore’s
hand would all figure prominently tonight.
* * * * *
Porter and Skylar left the tiny gallery, stuffed with deviled eggs
and lemonade, just as Billy Joel began the first impromptu chords of ‘And So It
Goes.’ Skylar shook her head. The man was a legend, but this would just
encourage the drunken oldies in their summer cashmere to start telling stories
of broken engagements.
“So you’re not going back to the library this week?” asked Skylar.
Porter hesitated, then shook his head. “It’s taking all of my
willpower, trust me. At least the Biltmore books are keeping me busy - there’s
a new deal I need to tell you about. But I can’t come on too strong with
Everly. She likes me, but she’s still hiding something big. I need her to trust
me, otherwise this summer is going to end and she’s going to disappear. And I
can’t let that happen.”
Skylar looked impressed. “Wow, Port...this sounds serious.”
Porter looked away. He didn’t trust his expression; Skylar could
always read him. “I just have this crazy feeling that being with her is
important. Really important. I have to find out why.”
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