Mervidia (2 page)

Nayan’s eyes were bright, not dull with sleep as most would have been at that hour.
She was a powerful machi healer, and Iago knew that she often stayed up through the night, working on her poultices and remedies. The jellod representative had personally attended to the wellbeing of the Divine Family for two generations and was also known for her great wisdom, having lived some seventy cycles and seen much in her life. Her face showed little of her age, only a slight sagging of the skin and wrinkles around her eyes hinted at her advanced cycles.

Her
visage was as emotionless as stone, as she buoyed toward the royal pair. Iago understood; she had to do her duty to her Queen and set any personal feelings aside, especially in a room of power hungry fish. Nayan conducted herself with a cool grace that came easily to the elder merwin.

“
Move away,” Nayan ordered the Serfin, and they immediately parted before her, giving the royal pair and herself space. She instructed Iago to shift his position, so that she could examine the Queen. Nayan brushed Iago’s lengthy, unbound pink hair that drifted behind him as he moved a short distance away, out of the way of the dead ethyrie’s face. Iago still held his wife’s hand, unable to fully detach himself, feeling that if he let Beryl go, she would truly be gone. He’d then have to deal with his grief alone, as a proper merwin should. He wasn’t ready just yet. Iago would use the time the machi took inspecting Beryl’s body to say his goodbyes. Unfortunately for Iago, Nayan took only a brief look, her small jellod hands quickly tracing and palpitating the wound, before she made her pronouncement. “Let it be known that on this day, the eleventh day of the waxing orihalcyon, that Queen Beryl of House Lumen was murdered by an unknown assassin’s hand.”

The
Serfin with Iago’s bone dagger swam forward, producing it for Nayan’s inspection. The guard, wearing a conch shaped helm with a plume of red kelp affixed to its top, handed the knife to the jellod machi and then spoke out against Iago.

“
Machi Nayan, shall I take the Queen’s Consort into custody to await his trial?” the female guard asked, a broad greedy grin on her fair ethyrie face. Iago was disgusted by her eager lust for advancement; the Serfin should be more honorable.
In her eyes, perhaps she sees herself as noble
, he thought.
She is just trying to do her duty after all.
Iago shuddered, knowing what fate may await him if the Coral Assembly agreed with the guard. There were no scratches on Beryl’s soft skin, no sign of a struggle in the room, and no other evidence at all, save for Iago and his dagger. An eerie thought entered the consort’s mind.
Did I do this?
Iago knew he would never willingly harm his wife, but kalku magic was strong. His hand could have been forced. His dream
had
been strange like he had been paralyzed.

“No
,” Nayan said, as she inspected the dagger, turning it over in her hands. Iago breathed a sigh of relief; the jellod machi had just saved his tail. He also now knew that he had not been involved in Beryl’s murder. That single possibility had weighed more heavily on him than his fear of being put to death if proven guilty.
If the guards were not disturbed outside our bedchamber
, he thought,
then how had an assassin gotten in?
Iago’s eyes went back to the balcony. Although the terrace’s doors were solid bone with bar locks on the inside, it would not be impossible for them to be opened with magic.
It had to be magic or at least one bar would be dislodged from its hewn stone hooks when the assailant fled,
Iago surmised.

“But
Domo, the cut is clean,” the Serfin protested, disappointment creasing her delicate brow. Nayan slapped the guard, her strike quick as an eel snatching its dinner and disappearing back into its hole. The guard’s face was red with anger, but she backed away, knowing to further incur the wrath of an important public figure might mean an end to her career and possibly her life.

“Child…” Naya
n calmly began to say, despite her vicious assault. The machi didn’t even look at the guard as she continued to study the dagger and then Queen Beryl’s wound. “Before you go spouting accusations at the Divine Family, which Consort Iago became a member of when he married the Queen, you might want to pay a little more attention to the evidence.” The jellod raised the dagger, presenting it for all to see. Nayan’s voice became monotone like a teacher lecturing students, as she said, “This dagger is straight. The slice to Queen Beryl’s throat, while done with a bone knife, was done with a curved blade.” Nayan lowered the weapon and pointed at the Queen’s neck. “See how the wound neatly arcs? While the hand can create a curved cut with a straight blade, the attacker would have had to cut slowly to create this effect, not likely in the case of a slit throat which is done quickly. A curved edge can cut in at various angles and the curvature allows it to exit easily, whereas the user needs to be more exact when he is using a straight edge. Consort Iago is not to blame for the Queen’s death. I bet my life on it,” Nayan concluded.

The
jellod handed Iago his dagger back and lowered her voice for only his ears to hear, “Dress yourself with care, Iago. The Coral Assembly will meet immediately and you will be called upon to speak.” Nayan also subtly removed Iago’s hand from Beryl’s, before waving the Serfin over to remove the corpse from the room. Iago’s heart sank as the merwin filed out of the room. The neondra guarding the terrace even left its doors open as he exited with the rest of the Serfin, obviously not caring about the consort’s fate. The bedchamber’s doors were slammed shut, leaving Iago alone.

Iago quickly re-barred the
balcony’s bone doors, his heart pounding and his mind reeling. He laid his forehead against the firm surface, seeking comfort in its strength. Beryl was gone and with her the political advancement of House Paua as well. Iago felt his heart hardening. His old way of thinking was returning as his desire for self-preservation took over.
What will happen to me?
Could I be married to another? I am not of House Lumen despite what Nayan said. Surely, I will not be made King
, he thought
. I must appear hale at the meeting. Nayan is right. I must show that I am in control or I will lose the Coral Assembly’s favor. My father worked too hard, grooming me for greatness, for me to be cast aside. I am still young and strong. I will prove myself again.

Chapter Two

As Jade approached the small building, the merwin to either side
of its front door stiffened, bringing the red coral tridents of their namesakes upright and perfectly perpendicular to the ocean floor. The three-pronged spears were made of shaped-bone hafts and topped with crafted coral heads of the richest crimsons available. Jade couldn’t help but be reminded of the color of blood, and she shuttered inwardly despite herself. She was no stranger to a cloud of blood slithering through the cold waters of Mervidia, she was a warrior after all, but the idea of
royal
blood drifting through the halls of the palace was as bizarre as it was ominous. The fact that the Queen had been killed in her own bedchamber, and in such a disrespectful way, only made Jade’s concern grow further. She realized that her emerald scaled tail was thrashing nervously behind her and propelling her through the water faster than she intended. Jade forced herself to relax and swim at a slower pace. She chided herself for acting so skittish.
You are a neondra warrior and a member of the Red Tridents. Act like it!
she thought.

Jade focused her mind by taking in the building as she moved towards it.
Zane’s home wasn’t large, containing only three rooms and composed almost entirely of rough harvested coral, as opposed to the elegantly shaped coral that the highborn merwin frequently employed in their architecture. She also often wondered why the head of the Red Tridents, a son of House Ignis, had settled here in the Ghet, instead of someplace less squalid. Ignis was one of the High Houses, not high enough to warrant a seat on the Coral Assembly but only barely. House Yellowtail was just ahead of Zane’s house in Mervidia’s hierarchy, and Penn, its domo, enjoyed a seat on the Assembly.

There was much about Zane that puzzled people, and Jade was just one of many who wo
ndered about the choices that her captain had made in his life. Regardless of where or how Zane chose to live, Jade had sworn her allegiance to him, as had a myriad of other merwin from both high and low houses. She had never questioned that oath. There was something about the young neondra leader of the Red Tridents that inspired loyalty, a rare commodity in the dark waters of Mervidia.

Jade stopped before the simple door, a bone frame with sharkskin stretched around it.
Her emerald hair billowed around her head, as she spoke to one of the rigid guards. “Is he inside?” she asked. There was no need to mention Zane’s name. Anyone who came here did so to speak with him.

The guard whom she addressed was large, well-muscled and intimidating.
The scales near his waist were black, but rimmed with a thin line of dark gold, indicating perhaps some neondra blood in his veins. However, his long sinuous dark grey tail betrayed his octolaide heritage. The guard’s lower half was smooth, completely devoid of scales, with a small diaphanous fin that ran from his waist down the top of his tail all the way to its slender tip. It undulated slowly in the water, keeping the merwin upright and at attention. Despite the fact that Jade did not carry a signature red trident as the guards did, the male still recognized her, though she could not say the same of him.

He nodded stiffly.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded, his tone deep and resonant. The guard had obviously been chosen for his appearance and bearing as well as his skill. A lesser merwin would have been cowed by the guard’s voice alone, much less his daunting presence. The jagged scar that ran from his the temple of his bald head, down the side of his face and neck to disappear beneath his crafted shell breastplate only added to his fearsome visage. He had seen combat and pain, surviving both.

In contrast, the other guard was slender and apparently unmarked by weapon or disease.
His red eyes clearly marked him as seifeira. His large spined ears and lean body suggested that he may, in fact, be pure-blooded, a rare distinction down here in the lower parts of Mervidia. His skin was ghostly white, framed starkly by the black hair that floated like a dark nimbus around his pale face. Where his skin was exposed, Jade saw the traditional intricate designs of the seifeira inked in black. Sweeping lines ranging from jagged designs to shapes reminiscent of sharks and various other fearsome creatures decorated the guard’s skin. Jade knew that the tattoos covered most of his body, including the portions covered by his plain, but immanently functional, fishbone breastplate. The scales of his tail, which faded from the alabaster of his skin gently along its length to the jet black of his hair, ended in a wide, flat proper merwin tail. The thinly-webbed fins at the end were delicately spined like his ears and twitched occasionally in minute movements to keep the seifeira’s posture the same as his partner’s. Where the larger male’s demeanor was stoic and intimidating, the smaller guard’s face seemed to hold a subtle perpetual smile, the corners of his mouth curled up subtly. Whether this was by the seifeira’s choice or simply the way his face had grown, Jade didn’t know. If she had had to guess, Zane had placed these two on guard duty together by design. One was clearly intended to frighten off unwanted visitors, while the other had an inviting face to make those who did come this close not feel entirely unwelcome. Again, Jade found herself impressed by one of her leader’s decisions. Tiny as it may be, it was subtly effective.

Jade placed her right hand on the sharkskin-wrapped handle of the thick coral blade that hung from her hip and raised her left fist to her chest.
The weapon was close to two feet long, thick at the base and then tapering to a sharp point. It was shaped more like a spearhead than a true blade, but Jade time and again had used it to deadly effect. The guards returned the salute and parted, allowing her to pass into the house.

She pushed the door open, feeling the rough sharkskin as it slid beneath her fingers.
Such a modest door to contain so complex an idea
, she thought. The Red Tridents were, at first glance, simply a mercenary group; a modest collection of warriors under the command of one merwin, Zane, formerly of House Ignis. However, when one looked further, its true nature was revealed like a frilled shark emerging suddenly from dark waters. The Red Tridents were a band of brothers and sisters drawn together from nearly every house in Mervidia, regardless of station, race or breeding with one sole purpose: to protect all merwin, not just the city and its rulers as the Yellowtails did. The Red Tridents defended the merwin as a whole, with no regard for family, house, or political favor.
From enemies both within and without,
Jade thought to herself. There were those, Zane amongst them, who would have found Jade’s unspoken words cynical, but most knew them to be the truth.

In the shadowy political waters of Mervidia, death was often just moments away.
But, as dangerous as life was in the city, it was almost certain death to venture outside of it. Creatures lurked in the dark waters of the deep ocean that made even the strongest merwin look like a newborn youngling, floundering around the nursery, his teeth and claws soft and weak. Venturing into higher waters was no escape either. There, the sea was too thin for merwin to survive. There were those that had dared to swim upward that far, but their bodies had eventually sunk back to the ocean floor, their lungs burst and their milky eyes destroyed like ruptured egg sacks.
The deep is where we are meant to be and perhaps what we deserve,
Jade thought, her mind returning to the image she had conjured of Queen Beryl floating lifeless in her room.

Jade put her dark opinions aside.
Zane would not like them. The leader of the Red Tridents was as idealistic as the concept of the Tridents themselves.

Jade’s tail swished languidly behind her as she moved slowly into the main chamber of Zane’s house and command center.
There she waited. She knew that her leader was often up before most, but this was perhaps too early in the day even for him. She didn’t want to wake him but knew that the matter, which had pulled her from her own sleep, was important enough to rouse him.

As she started to approach the door, however, her attention was drawn by movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned.
Jade’s hand darted to her weapon, and her tail twisted around to float in the water before her. It was both a defensive posture and also put her in a position to retreat should the need arise. Jade saw the trailing ends of tentacles before they vanished into the darkness out a side doorway into the waters beyond. Jade relaxed and her hand drifted away from her blade. There were a handful of octolaides who carried the Red Trident, so seeing tentacles in Zane’s house was not overly unusual. Although, it was a bit strange that whoever was leaving was using the disguised side door; the fact that they knew it was there at all spoke of their trustworthiness. Only the longest serving members of the company knew of the portal’s existence at all.

Jade began to chide herself silently for her anxiety, when the curtain to Zane’s personal cha
mber was swept aside by a hand covered in tiny bright red scales. Zane swam out into the main room and pulled up short. He looked surprised to see her there, though his words did not portray any such emotion. “Morning to you, Jade,” the richly red-hued neondra said, as he fastened on a dark grey vest. Jade knew that the piece of clothing was more practical than affectation. The garment was made from several layers of sharkskin, sewn expertly together to appear as one piece with subtle vents fashioned into the side to allow his torso gills to work unhindered. It afforded Zane a surprisingly decent amount of protection while not restricting his movements. Rumor had it that the skin came from a shiver of sharks that the neondra warrior had defeated singlehandedly, while swimming beyond the limits of Mervidia when he was younger. The number of sharks, of course, grew with each telling, but Jade had never asked Zane for a full accounting of the encounter, and he seemed content to let the legend grow without his commentary.

“Morning to you as well, C
aptain,” Jade replied, coming to rigid attention and pressing her left fist to her lightly scaled chest in salute.

“Please,” Zane said, finishing with the last
eel gut tie of his vest and tying on his belt. “It’s too early for such formalities.” Jade relaxed as her captain tucked a small, crafted bone dagger into his belt and motioned her over to a small nook filled with woven kelp baskets. “Have you eaten yet?” he inquired genuinely, as he opened one of the containers and pulled out a seaweed-wrapped bundle and offered it to her. When she refused, he simply shrugged and took a bite of the food. His warm smile was a sharp contrast to the jagged teeth that ripped into the morsel of seaweed and fish meat in his hand.

Jade’s jaw ached, as she forced it to remain closed.
She wanted to blurt out the news about the Queen’s death but waited quietly as her captain finished his meal. She was not a fry, confined to the protective walls of the nursery, and would not act as such. As she waited for Zane to consume the rest of his meager meal, she occupied herself by letting her eyes wander.

The room in which they
floated was simple, large, and uncluttered. It was a purposefully useful space, tasked far more often for meetings than entertaining guests. A large table of magically-shaped coral was fastened to the floor in the center of the room, and an intricately crafted model of the city was attached to its top. The simulacrum of Mervidia was expertly made from spell-crafted bone and accurate down to its tiniest detail. Someone must have paid a kalku a small fortune in pearls to have created such a masterpiece. The bone by itself was large enough to have cost a goodly amount. It was the single sign of anything remotely opulent in the entire house. Jade suspected that Zane had paid for both the table and the exquisite sculpture from his own coffers, but her commander had never commented on the matter and none of his merwin had asked. Zane did what needed to be done and rarely discussed his actions afterwards.

In contrast to the model of Mervidia, which the Red Tridents used to plan their various e
ndeavors around the city, the rest of Zane’s house was plain. The walls were made from roughhewn unshaped coral and devoid of any decoration, save the banner of the Red Tridents. The spell-preserved kelp standard displayed its sigil, a single red three pronged spear on a grey background, and hung alone on the largest wall of the house. There was a small nook carved into the coral, which held the baskets of food from which Zane now fed. There was a small room behind a kelp curtain, which Jade knew to be Zane’s bedchamber, though she had never actually seen it. Lastly, there was a medium chamber off to the side, smaller than the main room of the headquarters of the Tridents. It was larger than Zane’s personal room and was sometimes used for side conversations. Most often, the space was used for the storage of the company’s namesake weapons. Red Tridents traditionally only carried their three pronged coral-tipped spears when on official business. Several of the weapons leaned against the wall, while a handful of others, broken and awaiting repair, were as neatly stacked as possible on the floor near a worktable. To say that Zane’s home was practical would have been a gross understatement.

Jade had seen the building’s interior numerous times, and her eyes shortly returned to her
captain. The neondra male was sleekly muscled, and a bit thicker of limb than your average neondra, though nowhere near as bulky as a hulking grogstack. His scales and long hair were a rich vibrant red, much darker than the coloring of the highborn ethyrie of House Paua, but not nearly as dark as the blood that Jade imagined staining the Queen’s mattress that morning. An involuntary shudder rippled down Jade’s tail, and the wide green fins at its end twitched nervously.