Page 77 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

I was miles away from the High Throne, but that didn’t matter. I felt the water like a fifth limb, and I didn’t allow myself to think as I moved.

Like the moments where I sat on the High Throne and cast my consciousness across the Twilight Lake so that I could see places I had never been, I became the water.

I blinked, and I stood on the other side of the bars.

The guard slammed into the iron, and his trident clattered to the ground, too heavy for the water to cradle it. Eldun reached through the bars before he realized that he had a key.

I didn’t care to discover what would happen if he caught me, so I swam away as if my life depended on it.

When I reached the top of the stairs and past the door, I forced my body further, even though I knew that my arms and legs were about to give out. I could hear Eldun behind me as he swam up the stairs, growling and cursing. “The moment I catch you, I’m going to peel your skin from your bones, you gilded whore!”

I raced through the castle, following the lights; the alarms hadn’t been raised at my escape yet, but I wasn’t deluded. I knew I could be caught any minute and thrown back into a cell.

Tarsainn Castle was unfamiliar to me; every corridor looked the same with its uneven walls and bright coral. I only hoped I was further away from the dungeon instead of going in circles.

I quickly found an alcove, a dark nook in one of the walls that looked like a servant’s entrance. My eyes slid from the too-small door as if by magic, and I hoped that whatever protection clung to the door would protect me as well.

I silently prayed to Belisama and nudged the lake, asking if the door was safe—the silence that greeted me was better than nothing, so I took my chance.

I gripped the doorknob and rushed inside, pressing my back against the door and breathing heavily as my adrenaline began catching up. Whatever magic that was affecting the door slid off my skin like oil, but I was too focused on the sounds in the corridor to notice.

Not a moment later, guards shouted and rushed through the corridor. I held my breath as I listened through the door and waited for them to pass, praying that I wouldn’t be caught.

I didn’t allow myself to relax until a minute of silence passed. I sunk down, allowing the water to cradle me as I drifted to the floor like a deflated puffer fish. Air escaped my lips, forming bubbles in front of my face.

When I finally opened my eyes, enchanted faelight greeted me, bobbing in the center of the room, encased in glass. The room shared the same bumpy natural walls as the rest of the castle, as if it had been fashioned from an unwater cave. A groove worn into the far wall held a bed that looked much too inviting. I shivered, even though Rainn’s blanket sat on my shoulders.

As a whisper of thought ran through my mind about who the room could belong to and whether they were likely to return soon, an older mermaid puttered around the room carrying a tray filled with food.

Our eyes met, and her wrinkled ones creased.

The woman’s wizened face broke into a knowing smile. “Come sit by the light, child of Carohime. I’ve been expecting you.”

Chapter 15

She knew my mother’s true name.

The Mad Queen of the Undine. Mistress of the dark, the deep, and the dead.

“Who are you?” I demanded, tilting my nose until I looked down it, summoning every modicum of haughtiness that the Undine Court had gifted me. I used that arrogance and wrapped it around myself like a shield. “How did you know my mother?”

The old lady chuckled and shook her head as she approached the faelight in its cradle; she held out her hands as if to warm them. “Child, everyone knew your mother.”

“Her true name?” I quirked a brow, my lips thinning.

“Point taken.” She chuckled again. “Come now. I suspect you need to sit; you look dead on your feet.”

At her mention of feet, my eyes drifted to where her tail sat in place of legs—though I supposed that was to be expected as we were in Tarsainn, the mer-city. Her tail swished as if sensing the attention, highlighting the reddish-pink color in the faelight.

“Who are you?” I repeated.

“You may call me Urma if you wish, child.”

“I wish to know who you are.” I waved my hand towards her room.

“Ah.” Urma smacked her lips together. “Trying to gauge if I’m going to ring for the guards, are ye?”

A blush crept onto my cheeks, but I refused to give in. “Well?”

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