Page 124 of Female Fantasy
When he sees the wonder on my face, a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
As if I am glowing, too.
“Nico.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze tightly.
“Hm?”
“If you’re getting on that rocket ship to Mars, I want you to save me a seat.”
He laughs. “Consider it done.”
And then he kisses me again.
I look out into the crowd, the assembly of dissenters and revolutionaries, and raise one arm.
Within seconds, everyone in the room quiets.
Stills.
Lifts their faces to stare at me.
At my brown hair, now a glossy, deep chestnut hue. At my pale skin, cleared of any lines and shining like the sun upon the sea. When I gained my immortality, I went from plain to striking in a moment. My very presence has the ability to command a room, to turn heads and demand respect. And beyond my beauty, my power has emerged as a mighty force that can no longer be denied.
My tail swishes, holding me in place, upright and steady. The amber scales shine like nuggets of gold, layered like a cake, weaving the most beautiful tapestry from my tapered waist to my elongated fins. I inhale deeply, drinking in thesalt water around me, and exhale with nary a bubble in sight.
In my left hand, I hold the Trident of the Gods, the symbol of my lineage, of my birthright. Not that the mer need to see it to know whose blood flows through my veins. Amphitrite’s power pulses with every flex of my fingers. Around me, the ocean pulls apart and twists like a whirl pool. A low, thrumming tension radiates into the water from my skin. Behind me, a loyal cadre of dolphins stands by, watching my every move. They act as my personal guard and menace any mer who dare defy me. The dorsal fin I use to call them is hidden, nestled between my breasts.
And in my right hand, I clutch the golden whip, an object of brute force that began to respond to me the second I shifted into my true form. With the flick of my wrist, I can call my chariot pulled by ancient hippocampi, seahorses older than Atlantia itself. They whinny in greeting, ready to escort me wherever my heart desires if the newly formed muscles in my tail give out, not yet accustomed to constant use.
Beside me, my loch swims with his head held high.
Ryke’s strength is its own weapon, although we agreed to be careful when, where, and how he wields his pure energy now that he cannot draw life force from me. A mer cannot power share with another mer, and since I shifted in death, not life, we do not know how much of my humanity remains. A hybrid of my kind has never, to our knowledge, been seen before, below the water or onshore. When we hold hands, an explosion of light radiates from our bodies: our interloched bond, the glow of which I could not see when I was merelyhuman. Its shine has amplified tenfold since I shifted into a mer, lighting up the sea and sky.
Our rebel army shields its eyes, in awe of our shared energy. The power of our love for each other.
Upon my head is a tiara of golden trident spikes and spiraling seashells, encrusted with rare gems from sunken ships and sea glass smoothed by the waves for centuries. A matching crown adorns Ryke’s wavy midnight-black tendrils, elevating my loch from a fallen prince to what he was always destined to become: a true king.
And I his holy queen.
Lifted up by the Fates and anointed by the Furnace.
The heir of a goddess.
Ryke clears his throat, and every mer in our company bows their head in reverence.
Beside our royal seats, the Upper Shoal hovers proudly. Their hands are intertwined, and looks of wonder and admiration decorate their faces.
Above our heads, our new sigil flies: a woman with half a tail and a single leg, holding a conch to her lips.
Shutting my eyes tightly, I hear the crackle, the snap of my spine. A reminder of the trauma I survived to be here on this stage. The miracle I represent.
My eyes flutter open, and I take in the masses. The people it is now my duty to protect.
I lower the trident, and they meet my gaze.
Power sings as my lips twist into a smile.
“Shall we begin?”
