Page 55 of A Magic Deep & Drowning

But with the time eventually came clarity. For the first time in her life, she had made a decision herself, one that did not sit precariously on the axis of her own comfort and duty. If she died, then she died knowing that she had looked inside her heart and tried to live according to its most hidden truths. There was some comfort in that.

As she curled into herself and tried to find sleep, her arms ached with emptiness. She had never longed for her mother the way other children might when they needed comfort. Helma perhaps, but even then, Clara had only wanted a sympatheticear or a reassuring pat on the head. No; now, in her darkest hour, when she felt small and alone, it was someone, not quite a man, not quite a creature, for whom she would have traded her life to have the chance to place her head against his chest and hear the steady beat of his heart.

“Supper.”

Maurits had barely eaten in the past seven days, but that did not stop his favorite guard from punctually delivering his meager meal every day with a scowl. Today, Maurits had neither energy nor inclination to make a show of indifference to his cruel treatment. He was in a foul mood, and he didn’t care if Thade’s men knew it. The basilisks had not fulfilled their pledge to bring Neese, and despair had begun to creep in again.

But the guard made no move to leave. “You’re coming to the trial as a guest of the king,” he informed Maurits.

Maurits blinked, blood suddenly rushing through his body.I will see Clara, perhaps in a matter of moments.The realization brought some small measure of comfort, and the guard cut him a fierce scowl when Maurits was unable to keep himself from grinning.

The blindfold the guard put on him was pointless. By the time they had joined the current, Maurits knew exactly where they were. Perhaps the guard was aware of as much, and did not expect him to return to the palace. Perhaps it was simply to humiliate him.

When they reached the palace, the guard yanked off the blindfold and Maurits blinked against the brightness that greeted him. He had never liked the Hall of Justice. It was cold and sterile, all the barnacles and algae scrubbed off until the white stone stood plain and unforgiving.

He found himself the subject of the watchful eyes of his people, hundreds of water folk crowded into the hall. Somewere probably simply curious to catch a glimpse of the disgraced prince who had not been seen in some time. Others, loyal to his brother, glared at him. Across the hall Thade sat on the marble seat, wearing a mask of cool indifference as some advisor Maurits didn’t recognize whispered something in his ear.

Maurits knew something of the justice of men. The humans had their own courts and laws, a system that was ravenous for punishment, and that eagerly devoured wrongdoers for the chance to impart cruelty upon them. The Water Kingdom was different. There was no judge, no jury, no tiers of punishments. Cases and grievances could be brought against anyone regardless of their station, and anyone could speak in their own defense. While his mother was on the throne, she would also hear cases where parties wanted her to specifically offer her judgment. In his lifetime, he could only remember two murder cases, and one hearing about a kidnapping. The verdicts had been reformative rather than punitive for all of them.

In the time it took Maurits to shift the weight of his chafing manacles, she was led out, and all his thoughts and worries flew out of his mind. His heart leapt when he saw Clara. He couldn’t help it. It was like the feeling of being on land too long and needing water, then the blessed relief when he finally returned to the sea. Her face was his sustenance, his everything. She hated him, wanted nothing to do with him, but he thanked the waves above for the chance, however brief, just to catch a glimpse of her.

But his ecstasy was short-lived once he noticed how pale her skin was, how sunken her once-sparkling eyes had become. She might have been able to survive under the water, but it was hardly the same as thriving. She needed sunlight and fresh fruits and vegetables, meat. She was not made for this dark and cold world. Still, she was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on as she was led to the center of the hall and made to stand facing the throne.

Maurits watched with his heart in his throat. There was a call for silence, and then Thade rose and began to speak. His speech was nothing if not predictable. He lamented the loss of water, the greedy ways of the humans, the careless stewardship of the land. He chastised the queen’s laxness in upholding the terms of the bargain, and took the opportunity to expound upon his inalienable ability and right to sit on the throne. After taking a brief foray into the history of the herring fisheries, he then returned to the subject of the children, and how at last the final child would be brought to answer for the crimes of her parents.

What Maurits had not expected was the nodding of heads as his brother spoke, nor the thoughtful expressions. As he looked about the great hall, he saw many folk who he had always thought were content under his mother’s rule, with the way of things. The basilisks and Neese had both intimated that Thade was not trusted by the majority of the Water Kingdom; was it possible that they were mistaken though? Thade seemed to be giving everyone exactly what they wanted. Maurits wouldn’t have thought his people could be so intent on revenge, but perhaps again this was just the misguided result of his absence and how alienated he had become from his kingdom.

Throughout this, Clara stood still as a statue, her pointed chin jutted up, not in defiance but something closer to pride. He had once thought her spoiled and soft, and while he had never faulted her for it, he realized now how wrong he had been. She had merely been untested.

Thade’s droning monologue was coming to a close. “There is little benefit in going through the motions of deciding guilt in your case,” he said, almost bored. “And as you will not speak in your defense, I have no choice but to—”

“But Iwillspeak,” Clara said, her voice clear as a church bell.

An excited murmur rippled through the hall. Clara had her voice back. How did she have her voice? Meanwhile, Maurits could see his own voice, glowing softly in the bubble that Thade kept on the arm of his throne. His brother had wanted him to see it, wanted everyone to see it so they knew that the dethroned prince was truly hobbled.

At her words, Thade had bolted up from the throne, casting his gaze about, presumably for the bubble in which he had kept her voice. “How—” he began.

Clara did not let him finish. “I beg you, your majesty, please listen to what I have to say. I do not take the opportunity to speak lightly, and I do not dispute your just judgment. Only do not let me meet my fate without allowing me to speak on behalf of my people first.”

The hall was completely still, silent. Maurits took some small pleasure in the streaks of color that touched his brother’s cheeks, how completely off guard Clara had managed to take him.

Thade slowly lowered himself back down onto the throne. “I would weigh your next words very carefully,” was the icy response. “For there is someone here whose life hangs in the balance.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Clara followed the king’s smirking gaze and her body went rigid.

She had not noticed him there, his wrists bound behind his back, his jaw clenched to the point of shattering his teeth. The moment he met her gaze, he softened, and it was as if they were the only two beings in the crowded hall. He was a hundredfold more beautiful than she had remembered. When she had been full of anger and hurt over him, she hadn’t been able to wait to put distance between them. And now, seeing him again for the first time since her heart had begun to understand him, she could not go to him.

She had thought that he was to be kept prisoner, that the Water Kingdom must not know that he was alive. Because surely if they knew he was alive, there would be a coup and his brother would be removed. Surely Thade’s ascension to the throne would not be allowed to stand.

An icy cold sensation snaked back into her mind, like a tentacle wrapping about the inside of her skull.

It wouldn’t do to begin my reign with the suspicion of murder hanging over me, came Thade’s voice. It echoed, sounding impossibly close and faraway at the same time. She started, glanced about at the curious faces of the audience. No one else seemed to notice that the king was speaking directly into her mind.

It must be seen that not only is he alive, but that he is subjugated, came the voice again.Iam the just one.Iam the one who can take the kingdom firmly in hand and rule.

Clara squirmed. The sensation of Thade inside her head made her feel vulnerable, naked.

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