Page 81 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

“Time to go see my grandson.” Urma hooked her arm around the crook of my elbow, and we left the room, two old ladies going for a swim.

Chapter 16

None of the guards paid us any mind as we moved through the castle, though it took everything in me not to tense at the presence of the muscular mermen with their tridents at their side.

Urma chattered away, though I wasn’t sure if the glamour would betray my voice, so I answered with grunts and nods that the Elder Sídhe seemed to find amusing.

It seemed like no time had passed until I recognized the doors to the throne room. I shook my head in protest, my glamoured tail snapping as if preparing to flee at any moment. Urma glanced at the guards in front of the throne room.

“We’re visiting my grandson, Ethel,” she said pointedly. “Your lunch can wait.”

Her fingers gripped my arm, and I got the message. I was going through those doors, even if she had to drag me.

I plastered a smile on my lips and tipped my head in agreement, though inside, I was seething.

The guards, after watching our little display, opened both of the doors to the throne room.

“Your grandson hasn’t yet awoken, Lady Illfin,” one of the mermen said in a deathbed whisper.

Urma waved her hand dismissively. “He’ll be up soon enough, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right,” the other guard grumbled, earning a glare from his colleague. “Apologies for speaking out of turn, Lady Illfin,” he stuttered when he remembered who was in his presence.

“No mind.” Urma smiled genteelly. “I’m sure everyone will be more… relaxed… once my daughter-in-law remembers that the throne is not hers to keep.”

Both guards seemed reluctant to say anything about the matter, so we entered the throne room. I hadn’t realized it until that moment, but Cormac was king. Of course, his rooms would be near the mer-king’s throne.

The throne sat at the top of the room, at the end of a broad and empty space that no doubt catered to the hundreds of subjects and courtiers that came to worship at the feet of the royal family. Cruinn had a room just like it, but the more I grew to look like my mother, the more I was ‘encouraged’ to find somewhere else to be when my uncle threw balls or feasts.

It was only through the weaseling of his advisors, claiming that I would be more helpful if I had reached my magical majority—and better able to commune with the High Throne so that he could win the war—that my uncle had allowed me to attend the migration.

Though we all know how that turned out.

I hadn’t even stopped to think about what had gone through King Irvine’s mind that might prompt such a reaction. To leave me dead on the Skala Beach, near the selkie territory.

I could only speculate, but I would guess that he had hoped that if the poison didn’t finish the job, a group of vengeful, undine-hating seal-kin would.

“Are you ready?” Urma asked as we skirted the throne and moved towards a non-descript door tucked away to the side. My eyes skimmed off the door as if they couldn’t gain purchase, and I realized that it was spelled the same way that Urma’s door had been.

“Does it matter if I’m ready?” I laughed without humor.

Urma did not return my forced joviality. “Of course, it matters, child,” she scolded me. “Are you afraid that you will not be able to wake him? That you might fail?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We don’t even like each other,” I admitted. My voice was rough.

“Cormac doesn’t like anyone.” Her lip twitched as she held back a smile.

“He especially doesn’t like me,” I told her. “We fight like… undine and mer, I suppose.”

“Whatever happens,try, child.” Urma patted my shoulder. “I’ll be here when you feel ready, and we’ll go back to my room for tea. Whatever happens,” she repeated, ensuring I got the message.

I forced myself to nod as I turned to the door. Urma swam back, allowing me to enter alone, and though I didn’t want to, I swam forward.

I had expected to see Cormac when I left the throne room, and the door slammed shut behind me, but I realized that the king’s chambers were a labyrinth of twists and turns.

I had the horrible feeling I was lost when I heard the familiar haughty voice of Lady Bloodtide—her arrogance matched that of her son, but where Cormac had an innate sense of knowing himself inside and out and expecting people to follow him, Lady Bloodtide seemed to just enjoy telling people what to do.

Though I didn’t look like myself, I knew that a lone elderly mermaid swimming outside the king’s sick chamber would be seen as suspicious at best and treasonous at worst.

---