Page 22 of Waves
“Damn. That’s the last time I eat leftover shrimp. Sorry.”
Fear forgotten, we both scurried forward, desperate to escape his toxic haze. In less than a minute, we came to an abrupt stop when the blinding spell released its hold.
Panting, gulping in the fresh current, I found myself in front of a set of icy steps leading toward a green glass double door large enough to admit a whale.
The doors parted, a crack of warm light streaming out from between them, and I watched as the gleam spilled down the steps and soaked into the tips of my shoes. It might have been my imagination, but I felt as if wherever the light touched me was just a tiny bit warmer than its surroundings. That thought brought a soft smile to my face, an expression that only grew brighter when a tall woman with pale pink octopus tentacles for legs emerged from the doors.
White hair swept up around her head into fins that resembled the wings of a swan, she had twin dimples, a tiny line of a mouth, dark skin, and wore an infinitely welcoming smile—a smile and nothing else.
"Your Majesty." All of her tentacles moved and folded almost like the folds of a skirt as she curtseyed.
"Mayor Didero," I replied, having been briefed by Sahar about her shortly before my arrival. "I hope we aren't putting you out?—"
She cut off my apology for being early with a single wave of her hand as she rose. "One of your men came ahead and gave us warning. I hope you won't mind if we keep the feast on schedule for tomorrow, otherwise my cook might just sauté a few of my legs." Her exaggerated fearful expression was comic gold.
"I suppose I'll let youoff the hookthis once," I responded with a grin.
"Ever so gracious of you."
"Indeed." I liked her sarcasm already. She didn't have the puff or pretense, and didn't seem to have the scheming backstabbing nature of Gorgono.
"Come in, please. This is the mayor's house, so while I call it home now, I'll probably only be here for a few more years until I retire," she stated as she put a hand on my shoulders and escorted me in. "My own house is a bit humbler. And quite a bit less drafty."
We entered a room that was shaped like an egg, a grand foyer.
"This useless place is what I like to call the yolk." With a lazy swing of her hand to encompass all the portraits on the walls, she added, "All former mayors are showcased here. All painted by our town's sole artisan, who's also the cheesemaker."
That made me do a double take. "Cheese?"
"You're a fan?"
"More than that. I'd say a devotee."
Her expression brightened as she led me through a corridor and into a much more normally arranged sitting room. A few couches, shelves full of knickknacks, grand draperies, purple fire in the hearth—if the walls hadn’t been made of ice instead of glass, the room could have been inside my palace.
Didero gestured for me to take one of the chaise lounges set in front of the fireplace. Waiting until I was seated before she sat in the seat opposite mine, she said, "Excellent. I'll have Dryer bring over some of his finer samples."
"Excuse my ignorance, but what kind of milk do you?—"
"Whale milk," was her quick reply.
"Hmm. I’ll definitely want to send one of my competitors over to see him since we just had a discussion about butter," I added before moving on to practicalities. "Are there enough rooms for us even though we're early?"
Didero gave an emphatic nod as her hands came down on her thighs. "Yes, yes, we've spread out accommodations around town. Both in an attempt to allow the folk to get to know your contestants, their future consorts, and to prevent any more issues."
Issues. What a euphemism that was.
"Can I get you a coffee?" she asked just as a mermaid in servant garb floated into the room.
With eyes as wide as a newborn calf, I turned to her. "You have coffee?" I wasn't expecting the first trade shipment to arrive for several more weeks.
"Ship went down recently," she explained. "We had a good harvest from it."
That made my stomach churn a little, but one couldn't control the weather. And certainly, sailing this far north was a fool's errand with all the icebergs. Besides, queens had to become used to gruesome realities. Gela always said that unlike noblewomen, a queen had to have not only the stomach for blood but the taste for it. I was closer to that reality than I cared to admit. "I'd love coffee, thank you."
The merwoman fluttered off as Didero gave me a brief history lesson on the town and we drank the most delicious hot coffee I'd ever had. Though others in Okeanos would have found the lessons quaint, I was fascinated, particularly when I learned the people of Kremos didn't bury their dead. Instead, they swam to the surface and laid the body out on the glacier, letting the snow bury it and allowing the deceased to become part of the ice. Part of the town’s future and not just its past.
"Fascinating."
