Fathoms of Forgiveness (Sacred Breath, Book 2) (5 page)

“You are just saying that…”

“No!” Queen Amabie said, standing up and raising herself to her full height. She swayed slightly on her feet, indicating that she was a bit tipsy. “You are like the great Empress Jingk!”

“Who?” Visola asked curiously.

“Empress Jingk was a great Japanese warrior who conquered Korea after her husband died! Legend has it that she battled for three years while carrying her husband’s unborn child—she waited until she was victorious before giving birth.”

“Impressive,” Visola mumbled.

“Cheer up! You, my friend are the Boudicca of the Deep! Our Joan of Arc, our Tomyris…”

“Only as good as the women,” Visola lamented.

“No! You are the Napoleon of the Undersea!”

“Not a big fan of Napoleon,” Visola said as she fumbled to pour herself more sake.

Queen Amabie’s eyebrows creased in thought. “Alexander the Great. Gilgamesh. Genghis Khan. Attila the Hun! Name the warrior, and you are his very equal, his aquatic counterpart.”

“Okay. Now I’m feeling a bit better,” Visola said with a sniffle. “Not fair. You know how to stroke my ego better than anyone.”

“You need to acknowledge your own brilliance. I am lucky to have you as my ally, for I would not want to ever be pitted against you.”

“Dawww… I love you, Queen Amabie,” Visola said with a sleepy smile. “I wish it changed the fact that Vachlan is going to defeat me.”

“Oh, darling. That’s the sake talking.”

“No, I mean it. I do not have the will or energy anymore. If I could just cast aside all of my memories, I could take him on. If he were anyone else but my husband, I would wipe the floor with him and make him eat his own shit while laughing condescendingly. I would carve my name into his flesh. I would jump rope with his intestines, or wear them as necklaces and bracelets while asking him casually how they looked. I would dance upon…”

“Then do it,” Amabie said. “Cast aside your doubt and do it.”

Visola reached out and placed her hand on Amabie’s hand. She would normally never be so familiar with the woman, but due to her drinking, the lines of courtesy were blurring along with her vision. She blinked and squinted in order to see more clearly, but this only led to the realization that it was her mind which was clouded more than anything. She sighed.

“I can’t beat him, Amabie.”

Both women were startled when Aazuria burst into the room, dripping wet, her feet pounding the carpet. “Queen Amabie, General Ramaris—have either of you seen Corallyn?”

“Not since yesterday when I killed her evil mother,” Visola slurred. “Why?”

“I cannot find her anywhere,” Aazuria said, brushing locks of wet, white hair out of her face. Corallyn was her youngest sister, whose body was of childlike proportions, although she was nearing a hundred years in age. “I had the guards sweep the whole palace. She is not in her quarters, nor anywhere else...”

Visola frowned. “Have you checked intensive care? She probably snuck in to see if Elandria was better.”

“That was the first place I looked!” Aazuria reached up and grasped her wounded shoulder, battling a bout of pain. Blood was seeping through the bandage due to her vigorous exercise. She was evidently distressed and frustrated by her missing sibling. “What if she ran away? What if she was angry with us?”

“She’s probably just sulking in a corner because of the stuff with Atargatis,” Visola spoke with a slight slur. “When your mother shows up out of the blue and kills a whole bunch of people, it’s never easy to deal with.”

Queen Amabie lowered herself carefully to her chair. “Princess Aazuria, some of my elite warriors said that they were heading to your Mirrored Caves for festivities… to celebrate vanquishing our common enemy. Perhaps your little sister is amongst them?”

“I do not think Corallyn would be celebrating the death of her mother,” Aazuria said with a deep frown. There was terror in her eyes. “I feel within me that something is gravely wrong.”

It seemed that all of Adlivun and all of their Ningyo allies were in the Mirrored Caves, dancing, chatting, and enjoying themselves in the water. They had changed out of their armor, and they all wore brightly colored flowing fabrics which floated in the water behind them like the swirling ribbons of rhythmic gymnasts. The Alaskans wore their malachite green while the Japanese wore bright red or white, depending on their rank.

Aazuria swam through the cavernous rooms, frantically searching for her little sister.

Although many of the people in the room did not share the same spoken language, it did not matter. Everyone communicated with their hands in the universal sign language. Speech was a garbled, incoherent burble underwater. The only thing easily discernible was laughter. The sound of distorted, joyous murmurs reached Aazuria’s ears from every part of the Mirrored Caves. Her shoulder throbbed as her bone rotated in the joint, swimming quickly through the rooms. Lights bounced off the mirrors, and she was frequently met with her own troubled reflection. She tried to remember the last words she had exchanged with Corallyn, for any clue to where she might be.

“
Well, that’s just peachy,” Corallyn said with her hands on her hips. “My biological mother tries to kill everyone I love and I’m not allowed to execute her? Why is Visola allowed to do anything she wants?”

“Hush, Corallyn,” Aazuria answered firmly. “It was for the best that it happened this way. Believe me.”

“But Elandria could die!”

Seeing the young girl’s lip quiver, Aazuria reached out and pulled her sister into a gentle hug. “Elandria’s going to pull through; we’re going to be fine. Nothing else matters as long as we have each other. Okay?”

Corallyn grumbled, embarrassed by the show of affection. “Whatever, big sis. Your mother was some majestic lady, so you don’t know what it’s like…”

Aazuria placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “I killed Papa. Now I have to live with that. I do not wish the same for you.”

“He deserved it. He was a…”

“Coral, your mother was not always like this. When I first met her, she was an ambitious, dedicated young performer. The worst villains are created from the kindest people when bad things happen to them.”

“So it’s all Papa’s fault,” Corallyn said quietly.

“No. Your mother’s actions were her own.”

“My actions would have been my own as well!”

“I cannot allow you to make mistakes that you will greatly regret.”

Corallyn gritted her teeth. “Fine. Damn you! Go make more smoochies with ‘Uncle Trevain.’ Damn Visola too! I’m going to sulk in a corner.”

Now, which corner could she possibly be sulking in?

Many of the people Aazuria passed, both warriors and civilians, bowed deeply to her and saluted across their chests before congratulating her bravery and sympathy for her shoulder. They offered condolences and wished Elandria a rapid recovery. Aazuria’s hands automatically formed the gracious signs necessary to acknowledge all of their kindnesses and pleasantries. Her head nodded, and her mouth smiled, but her eyes remained unsettled and anxious.

Whenever she was engaged by someone who might have known Corallyn, she asked if they had seen her. She described the girl’s appearance and small stature to many of the Ningyo warriors, who shook their heads, profusely apologizing and bowing. Aazuria was growing increasingly agitated, and the swarm of celebrating sea-people only added to her frustration. She turned to exit the Mirrored Caves, and found herself swimming directly into someone.

Caring green eyes assessed her hysterical state with concern. She felt a small wave of relief run through her because of his understanding gaze. Aazuria reached out and placed a hand on his arm, as if trying to draw strength from him.

“
Did you find her yet?
” he asked, slowly and carefully forming the words in sign language. He did not yet have much confidence in speaking with his hands.

“
No,
” Aazuria said, shaking her head. “
I am going to check the labyrinth. She could have gotten lost in any of the intricate channels of caves under the Aleutian Islands.”

“
Wait, Zuri,”
he signed. He frowned as he moved his thumbs and forefingers, trying to remember all the correct hand formations. “
If I understand correctly, these caves stretch out for hundreds of miles… you can’t possibly cover all that ground swimming with your injured shoulder! My great-aunt Sionna sent me to tell you that you have to take it easy, and spend some time resting in the infirmary. She seems like she really knows what she’s doing.
”

“
I have rested enough. I must find Corallyn,
” Aazuria insisted, swallowing. She reached up to touch her shoulder gingerly. She felt extreme embarrassment and growing annoyance at the fact that Koraline Kolarevic, the woman who had called herself Atargatis, had managed to stab her in the same location twice. The first time had been with a javelin that had gone clean through her shoulder; Trevain had saved her life by pushing her to the side just in time, or it would have pierced her heart. The second time was in hand-to-hand combat.

“
Your bleeding hasn’t even stopped,
” Trevain pointed out, grimacing at her darkened bandages. The blood that had dried on the cloth in the air had not completely washed out in the water. He reached out with his thumb to caress her skin very close to the wound, and he frowned when she winced. “
If this gets…”
He paused, not knowing the signal for ‘infected.’ He tried to substitute a word. “
If this gets dirty, it could get worse and you could lose your whole arm…
”

“
I will be fine. Sionna gave me a tetanus shot when I was stabbed the first time
,” Aazuria quickly signed to him as she moved through the caves.

He followed her, confused. “
Tetanus?
” he asked, imitating the hand signal she had formed. “
I’m not sure what that is, could you spell it out for me?”

“
I need to hurry. I am going to pass by the kitchens and collect some basic food to sustain me while I search for her. Can you go to the palace and organize the military to help me search? Your grandmother is drunk, or I would ask you to go to her.
”

Trevain felt nervous as he tried to make sense of her rapid hand motions. “
You want me to organize your military? Why would they listen to me?
”

“
They will. Go at once.
” Aazuria continued swimming through the caves, with long pieces of her dark green dress trailing behind her.

Trevain ignored her command and swam to block her path. He moved his hands in a series of gestures. “
I’m not letting you go off on your own, wounded and emotional. What if you get lost? Rash decisions could make this even worse. Is there a map? Let me come with you.
”

“
I will not get lost
,” she responded, trying to swim around him. “
I have lived here for centuries. I used to play in these caves when I was Corallyn’s age.
”

“
Aazuria!”
he responded. “
You’re not thinking rationally. We need to weigh our options. What if Coral went back to land? She could be at my house right now. You remember how fond she was of the internet and television.
”

“
This is true
,” Aazuria conceded. Her hands paused for a second in fear. “
Oh, Trevain. I am so worried about her. Could you send Naclana to check and see if she is at your home?”

Naclana was Aazuria’s distant cousin, who served as her messenger. Trevain shook his head. “
I am just as concerned about her safety as you are, but rushing off alone into miles of dark caves isn’t going to help the situation. Aazuria, come back to the palace and let’s find Naclana and tell him together…”

“
No. If you will not help me, I shall help myself.”
Aazuria swam around him, rushing past him in a fraction of a second. All he saw was a blur of green and white. He turned, and immediately swam after her, but he could not catch up for several minutes.

By the time he was close enough to speak to her, she had already arrived at the waterless caves in which food was prepared. He was surprised by the true extent of her athleticism, and her tolerance for pain. He could not believe that she could move at all with her injured shoulder. He entered the room after her and climbed the carved stairs just in time to see the cooks saluting and bowing to her.

“I need basic provisions for a trek into the caves. In a watertight bag.”

“Yes, Princess Aazuria.”

“My youngest sister Corallyn is missing. Can you please pass my orders to the castle guard to dispatch a search party? Also, if you could tell Naclana…”

“Aazuria,” Trevain interrupted. “Please. You need to think twice about this.”

“Listen, Trevain,” she said, turning upon him with a hard look in her eyes. “This is not up for discussion. My sister could be…”

“Princess!” shouted a male voice.

Aazuria was surprised and turned to see her cousin entering the room, dripping wet. “Naclana. Just the person I wanted to see…”

“Corallyn has been abducted,” Naclana gasped, as he tried to catch his breath.

Aazuria stared at him for a moment, blankly.

Trevain felt fleeting disbelief. He almost wanted to smile as though it were some sort of joke, but he could see that the messenger was serious. Naclana had always given him the creeps, and now he imagined that he knew why. The man’s very presence was a harbinger of danger and disaster. It was painted permanently in the shadows of his grave, heavy expression.

“We just received a ransom note,” Naclana said, straightening his posture and giving a half-hearted version of the appropriate salute to his cousin. “From the Clan of Zalcan.”

Murmurs of horror rose up from the kitchen staff. Trevain moved to his fiancé’s side, and wrapped his arms around her. Aazuria felt the urge to lean against him for support and shut her eyes tightly, but she could not do this with everyone watching. She could not do this at all. The moment she allowed herself to show her weakness, even to herself, it would overcome her and she would lose her composure. She knew that if she had been paying closer attention to Corallyn’s whereabouts after the battle, this would not have happened.

“What do they want?” Trevain asked Naclana. “They aim to exchange her for something?”

Aazuria twitched, moving suddenly out of her frozen state. “That’s right. A ransom. All is not lost. Anything they want—I will give it to them.”

Naclana cleared his throat. “The note was written in Corallyn’s blood. Would you like me to read it, Princess?” When Aazuria nodded. He reached into his vest and withdrew a metal cylinder. He uncorked it and pulled out the heavy paper. The demands had been penned in elegant crimson calligraphy.

When the women on the kitchen staff began to cry, Aazuria lifted her hand, and tried to speak soothingly. “It is just meant to scare us. Do not worry—whatever is requested shall be given. She shall be returned safely. Whatever price is stipulated shall be paid.”

Naclana hated his job. He cleared his throat again before reading:

“Dear Administrators of Adlivun…”

Aazuria did not realize that she was clenching Trevain’s hand tightly, or that her palms had become very sweaty. Administrators! The person writing the note had been exceptionally sadistic if they had chosen to bleed her sister for such long, unnecessary wording. Every syllable had caused Corallyn anguish. Every syllable ignited vengeful anger within Aazuria.