slowed his movement by pulling at the strength of his body. She
latched on to the crackling energy that made up his being. For a
flash, she could see a memory-swimming with a black-haired mermaid,
kissing her as if it was the only thing in the world he was meant to
do. Then fighting, slashing, pillaging nearby tribes in the name of
King Amur. She wondered what made men like this fight for another. He
was no different than her father’s soldiers, no different than the men
who follow blindly into battle. Causeless. Purposeless. He was the
kind of merman she was surrounded by, and it filled her heart with an
angry cry.
Sparks emitted from her fingers like fissures in glass. There was
a collective gasp in the golden hall, and everyone began swimming
backward. King Amur gripped the coral throne and leaned forward,
licking his lips as if he could taste the magic in the water the way
he tasted the blood of his enemies before he reduced them to surf.
This warrior was bigger than the others. But his strength meant
nothing because she was stronger. She swam around him, avoiding his
sword. He recovered and tried to wrap his tail around hers. She
slithered out of his grip, but his hand grabbed a handful of her hair.
Pearls and gems scattered into the sea, and the hands of little
mermaids reached out to grab them like trophies, like they too could
have a piece of the queen. Nieve screamed and sent a blast of energy
at the merman.
For a moment, she considered putting it off. It was an honor to
die at her hand, but why should he get it so quickly? The Rebel King
hated when they died too quickly.
Mercy, she called it.
She beat her tail and swam up toward the arched ceiling with its
floating light-fish, the warrior’s hands at her fins. What would it be
like if she tore a hole through the ceiling and let him escape? Would
he run? Would she go with him?
How fast would King Amur find her?
The warrior grabbed her, squeezing at the middle of her tail until
she thought her bones would break. She pushed down on his face,
digging her nails into his cheeks, and still he didn’t let go,
slamming her against the ceiling, scattering the light away.
For a moment, she let him squeeze her. Grip her so hard the life
might start slipping away. He only had to reach her throat and close
off her gills. Then she’d be free of it all.
But freedom was a small price to pay to feel this-the fire that
raged inside her. Live, she told herself. All she needed to do was
live and figure out a way.
So she pulled on her magic, on the light of the life around her.
She brought it inside her the way she’d seen wood feed fires on the
surface. She kept her hands on the warrior’s face, and her scream
joined his. Her current rammed into him so hard that his arms went
slack instantly. She didn’t let go-not even when his memories gripped
her like a fist around her heart. She saw the black-haired mermaid
again, with her black skin and scarlet mouth that caressed his face
over and over.
Then she heard his heart burst. Surf bubbled all around her where
his body once was.
The crowd’s cheers could be heard through the whole palace. The
Silver Queen was victorious again. She sank back down to the main
hall, settling beside the warrior’s long sword. She picked it up and
faced her husband king.
“Witness once again the power of my queen! No one would dare
threaten us,” he said to his people. Then he added in a low growl,
“Not even her father.”
“You’ve pleased me once again, my wife.” His eyes were drunk with
lust and power. He would send for her tonight after he tired of the
mermaids from the shore banks, she was sure of it.
“That brings me much happiness, my king,” she said.
Around her, the court reveled.
“Does it?” he asked, knowing that her words were full of lies.
She said nothing, only held the sword against her open hands. They
stung with power. Her heart stung with hate. It was coiling inside
her, and she wondered when it would break like the earth spilling lava
and steam. Was it now, with the sword in her hands? With his guards
standing there ready to slit her throat at a moment’s notice?
No. Patience, she told herself.
Patient, which the Rebel King was not.
“Give it here,” he said, pointing at the sword, a spark of
nervousness blooming in his thoughts.
She swam to him and handed it over. But first she read the word of
honor inscribed into the blade. Gwenivere. She saw the black-haired
girl in her mind and thought, What a lovely name.
NOW
“Nieve,” I say. Her name is a curse. A darkness I’ve never known
before. She’s nowhere in sight, but what we see while we’re swimming
has her signature of destruction all over it.
“This can’t happen,” Dylan says. “They can’t do this. Not here.”
I realize Kai, Brendan, and Dylan all spent part of their lives at
Glass Castle. They’re mesmerized, like looking at a picture that’s
distorted and trying to make sense of it.
We crouch below a giant boulder and ready our weapons. Amada
growls and rakes her claws on the stone.
“Kai,” I say, “can you lead me to the oracle’s chambers?”
She stares at the fighting mermen and merrows as the echoes of
screams reach us. “Yes.”
“The rest of you-”
Brendan doesn’t wait for me to finish. He charges down to the
castle and cleaves the heads off three merrows. The black, inky blood
spreads all over, creating the perfect cover for the rest of us. Amada
and Dylan flank him. Dylan commands the attention of a group of
warriors who wear his family’s crest on their breastplates. They fight
around him, protecting him.
Amada swims fast. She opens her mandibles wide and chomps down on
the merrows. The guards, never having seen her before, don’t know what
to make of such a creature. But they stay out of her way as she
fiercely joins the skirmishes inside the castle.
Kai makes sure the coast is clear and leads me through a side
entrance. Balls of conjured light float along the halls and up on the
ceilings, casting long shadows. It’s everything I could have dreamed
about seeing and, at the same time, like nothing I’ve ever seen. The
glass itself has the patterns of shells. Now I know why my mom chose
that living-room wallpaper.
Then they come through the corridor. A mouth of nail-like teeth
chomping at the open sea in front of Kai’s face. I grab her and push
her to the side. A merrow collides with my chest, and just as it opens
its mouth, I sink my dagger into its belly.
“Hurry, Tristan!” Kai says. “If all these merrows are here, I
think they’re after the same thing you are.”
I follow her twists and turns down hallways decorated with
carvings of old mermen and women, their likenesses reduced to
shattered glass, until we’re at what seems like the center of the
Glass Castle where the chambers are made of steel. An engraving of the
trident decorates the door. It’s quiet. The merrows haven’t gotten
this far in, and I hope we can hold them off.
“The king’s chamber,” Kai whispers.
She’s about to go in, but I grab her wrist and press my finger to
my lips. There are people inside there. We lean into the slightly open
door and listen.
His voice, demanding and bossy, is instantly familiar.
“You can’t go out there,” Kurt yells. “You’re not strong enough to
fight.”
I hold my dagger out in the crack of the door and see their
reflection. Kurt and the Sea King, his father. My grandfather. He