Page 87 of Song of the Abyss

He didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want her to know what her people were doing, because he knew how much this would impact her. He could see her heart bleeding through her eyes, but there was nothing he could do to prevent her from feeling this wound.

Perhaps it was better to stab hard and quick than it was to slide this knife in slowly.

Tears welled in her eyes and dripped down her cheeks by the end of his story. Arges and Maketes were both flared up. Their colors lit the room as much as his did, turning their blues, reds and yellows into oranges and violets that played along the walls. Mira had her hand over her mouth, and he had a feeling nausea pressed against the back of her throat.

“They’re experimenting on your people?” Anya finally said, those tears still dripping down her face.

“That is what Fortis has seen.” He reached for her. Daios couldn’t stand seeing that expression any longer, not without touching her. Soothing her.

She came to him without hesitation, tucking herself into his side as the others began to all speak over each other.

“Anya,” Mira said. “Did you have any idea this was happening?”

A bright blue flash illuminated that corner of the room while Arges said, “We cannot waste any more time. We have to move now if they’ve already been capturing people this long.”

But it was Maketes’s voice that made his heart shatter. “I wonder how many people we thought were lost on raids who were actually just waiting for us to save them.”

The quiet words ended with a silence that burned. That anger and hatred that had always flowed in him had merged together with the others. He knew his people would stop at nothing to get their own back. He knew without a doubt that the battle was soon to flood this sea.

Yet his heart also thundered with warning. Because tiny hands were pressed against his chest, feeling the rage that coursed through his skin and he knew she was right here with him. She could hear every word. She suffered every injustice that her people had done to his.

Anya’s feelings were different from Mira’s. The city she had come from was the one who had done the worst to his kind, but even more, it was her own family that held the blade.

Everyone remained silent. All he could hear was the staggered breath from Anya’s lips that ghosted over his wet neck and cooled his skin. The fire that burned inside him was one that she could easily stoke or extinguish.

He’d always thought his rage and hatred would come before anything else. But this woman could make him pause if she wished. A single order from her, and he would take her away from all of this.

Instead, Anya lifted her head from his neck. Her eyes were ringed with red and her cheeks slick with tears.

Her voice, when she spoke, was ragged and raw. “This does not surprise me. As much as I wish it did. I have always known my father to be bloodthirsty in both battle and in knowledge. I’m sorry. If I had known I would have done... more.”

“There is nothing you could have done.” He lifted his hand and smoothed the tears away from her face, propping her up with his shorter arm. “Your father would have killed you. We’ve proven already that the lack of you has only made him stronger. He would have discovered that with or without us.”

Mira’s voice interrupted him with a hissed, “That’s the most words I’ve ever heard him say in one sitting.”

He silenced her with a glare before returning his attention to the woman in his arms. “This is not your fault, kalon.”

“No, it’s not my fault, but it’s still my people.” Something shifted in her eyes. Something hard and familiar at the same time. She looked at the others in the room before, with a flat tone, she announced, “Blow it up.”

Silence was her answer before Mira scoffed. “What? What do you mean, blow it up?”

“I can get inside. I know where everything is. You want Alpha out of the picture? You want to save your people? Attacking Beta with a handful of undine gets you nowhere. You have to make drastic decisions that will echo through the entire ocean.”

Mira shook her head. “You’re calling for a war.”

In his arms, she shook. He could feel her trembling with emotion, and some part of him whispered it might be fear.

“No,” Anya replied. “I’m calling for a massacre. I know where to hit so some people will still be able to leave if they are quick. You want them to take you seriously? To know that they cannot and should not ever fuck with the undines again?” She made eye contact with each and every one of them in the room, saving him for last. Her gaze met his, and he knew that hardness was the same rage he felt burning in his own chest. “Then you need to tear the golden city to the ground.”

32

Anya

It all became a bit of a whirlwind after that. Anya was ashamed to admit she mostly stood there in shock.

She’d always known her father to be ruthless. But experiments? On live specimens? It was wrong on so many levels, and it was painful to hear. She didn’t want to think of all those people who had suffered, all because her father couldn’t see their people as alive. Or at least, people worth respecting.

And then it had all hit her.

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