Chapter Eight:
The Passage of Days
1
"I made a promise, and it is my wish to fulfill that promise."
Days upon days passed after that. Not many of those had gone by before Nathan had become Crown Prince Ellister's most trusted attendant. He was tossed in with the likes of such stuffy old bags as Mr. Browning and Mr. Swingler, but he was very much set apart from the rest of them. Nathan was a breath of fresh sea air. He didn't nag the royal one day and night, and only two forms of business concerned him: the business of mermaids and the business of keeping himself pleased. Thus far, he had not neglected either.
Nathan had taken on Ellister's former job of sailing about, checking nets and examining wreckage. After the two instances that Nathan had been part of, they'd found no evidence of the nymphs' existence at all. Ellister had told him as much; however, he'd thought that after their last failed attempt, the nymphs would try again. Now it appeared he had been wrong. Even though the creatures' plans had been thwarted, they had not tried to feed again—at least to the men's knowledge. This made Nathan's job much more pleasant, for all he truly had to do was make sure the nets stayed in place and see if any of them ever caught a prize.
Life was good—like life had never been before. He'd led a privileged life in his youth, as far as having material possessions, but it had never been with freedoms such as these. Nathan called the palace home and had access to all its luxuries. Thaddeus's siblings were away—his sisters all married to princes by now, and his brothers off in foreign countries despite their father being ill—so Nathan went about as he wished. There were servants to see to his every need. He spoiled himself.
He wore expensive clothes, and while he was dressed as a steward, he did not feel like one. He was young and handsome—far from being one of those old men who couldn't smile. Ellister did not insist that Nathan speak to him as royalty, and though there was still a large gap between their stations, they'd become like friends. Nathan couldn't say he cared much for the man on a personal level, but they could talk amiably together, and their closeness did great things for his immunity.
Nathan walked around daily with a short smile on his face—not of happiness, but of arrogance. He did what he pleased, hardly even feeling the need to cause trouble. He'd nearly forgotten all the terrible things that had happened to him so many nights ago. He did not forget, however, for the deep sea nymphs were nearly all that Ellister spoke of.
That night on the ship, after he'd been rescued for the second time by the crown prince, Ellister had told Nathan of the infamous shipwreck that everyone whispered about, even years later. He had confirmed that it was true.
"I was five years old, and to this day, I do not remember what had led me to topple overboard. It seems like something I should recall, since it is such an important moment in my life, but I cannot remember it at all."
A mermaid had saved him and looked after him for two days on an island before he could tell her who he was and where he belonged.
"She was beautiful—perfect. Even at such a young age, I realized it. Being close to her was like nothing else, and like no woman since. I was enchanted by her. I think she knew."
According to him, she'd looked into his eyes and told him that one day he would be a king of the human world. She wanted a favor.
"She saved my life. How could I deny her?"
She'd asked him, as the human king, to promise that he would purge the sea of the monsters of her kind, for they had kept her as a slave. He'd promised that he would, and he'd not forgotten it.
"I remember being infuriated when she'd told me that, as if the first stirring of manhood was summoned up within me. I wanted to protect her, and to do harm to those who had done her wrong. Perhaps it was only a spell, and perhaps I am under it still. I've thought about that often, but all I know is what I must do—for her."
Ellister had then explained that for all the years of his life, he'd held mermaids over human women—his obsession stretching even so far as having two of them in a pool in his rooms. If any more were found, they would likewise go to that place. That was, of course, only until the monsters' society was ruptured. There were few who knew this about him, and by telling Nathan, he had trusted him more than most.
"I don't keep them as prisoners, you know. They are not my slaves. To have them here is to keep them safe from their cruel masters below. I don't allow them to speak for my own sake. But believe me: in the matter of desire, they crave me far more than I crave them."
"You trust them?" Nathan had asked.
"Of course not, but I am good to them, and they know who their master is."
Nathan had been impressed by the confession, as well as surprised, but was not bothered. It was not his business to judge. In fact, by knowing this, Nathan felt he was more important than those others who frowned at him when he passed—those who believed he did not belong on the crown prince's right hand. But knowing this, he had been very careful not to speak a word of his Treasure.
"Have you ever seen one yourself?" Ellister had asked him.
"Only the monsters, I'm afraid," Nathan replied—lying.
"Pity. There's nothing finer in this world."
Nathan had thought on that shortly after the man had said it, but as the days had passed, he'd let it go, and most thoughts of Treasure had ceased completely. Was he protecting her by keeping her a secret, or just trying to forget her? He'd stopped thinking about that as well. Even though he could do whatever he wished, was he free now that he had the crown prince's thumb on his head? He tried not to delve into that either. He was perfectly happy, and there was no reason to think about it.
2
Treasure sat limply beside her mistress's throne, greatly wanting sleep. She knew, however, that the moment she closed her eyes, she would be slapped roughly to shake her awake.
Her wayward behavior was being punished once again. The Mistress had her chained to the arm of the throne so that she could be watched at all times. She had not been allowed to eat in days, contenting herself to lick the algae when heads were turned. The deprivation took only a slight toll on her lovely flesh, but pained her within. She was not allowed to sleep in the presence of the Mistress, and when that tyrant was not on her throne, there were others to prod and torture her. Her wrists were raw and sore from the chains.
But even though Treasure felt she was alone, she knew she was not. There was always someone with her, looking through her eyes and seeing what she saw. Could the other also feel what she felt? Did she know of Treasure's suffering?
Are you watching me? Can you see what they have done?
"How much longer do I have to do this?" Treasure asked quietly in the human tongue. "I can't anymore. I don't want to."
She received no reply from the one she spoke to, only a strike to her face from the Mistress.
"You have not been told to speak, wretch," she growled. "Haven't you learned your place yet?"
Treasure was smart enough not to reply. The one she'd been speaking to had heard her. She was not ignorant of that.
Disturbances in the water signaled the approach of others toward the throne, and Treasure lifted her lashes just enough to glimpse them. They were nymphs of the reef, and because of their assigned home, their bodies had begun to take on the characteristics of brittle coral. Their hair and faces were stiff like heavy masks. There were five of them, and they approached in an orderly fashion, revered before the Mistress. Even though they were of less importance, the Mistress rose at their sight.
Treasure cringed, knowing what was expected of her. She rose up into the water, keeping her head lowered and offered her arms straight out before her, shackled wrists up and palms out. Would it have been too much for the leader of the corals to refuse just this once? It was too much. It would have been considered rude between the perfects.
Holding steadily, Treasure closed her eyes as the honored guest sank teeth into her arm. The blood draw was brief—only a taste to sample—but the pain was all the same to the slave. She shrank away when she was released, back down beside the throne as if she didn't exist, her skin throbbing.
"You have something to report?" the Mistress inquired in the screeching language of the nymphs.
"We studied the vessel that was left by the humans," the coral nymph said in a scratchy, whistling voice as if her vocal cords had been hardened as well. "It was certainly built with the intention of battling with us. Unfortunately for them, they're still just human, and therefore stand little chance."
What was the Mistress thinking then? Treasure wondered as she chanced a glimpse at her. After a moment, the sovereign came out of her thoughts.
"Have you gathered the priestesses?" the Mistress asked.
Treasure cringed at the thought. The silent priestesses, with their many tentacles and white-mask faces had always been eerie to her.
"They have been called," the coral one promised, "and it is a good thing, for you know that—"
"Do not speak their name," the Mistress commanded harshly. "Just see that it happens. Make sure that the young are secured. Complete the ritual and inform me if the humans move again."
With that completed, the coral nymphs left the palace in the same organized formation they entered in. The Mistress sank back down against her throne, deep in thought. Treasure had listened, but said nothing. Ritual? Hopefully the one watching through her eyes knew what this meant, for she did not.
The Mistress sat still a few moments before rising by the motion of her fin, taking hold of the chains that bound Treasure, breaking them apart in her hands. Treasure did not fight. She was used to being mishandled, but she knew better than to feel hope for this. She could never know what would be handed down to her.
Gripping Treasure's face between her sharp fingers, the Mistress lifted her up, staring into her eyes intently.
"This is your last chance, little one," the Mistress said. "Leave these waters again if you dare to, but my tolerance has worn thin. You will be caught, and when you are, you will be killed. I have much more important matters to attend to now."
The Mistress shoved Treasure down and turned her attention to the guards that remained in the chamber.
"Lead her back to her cell. Be sure that she's locked in tightly."
Without further word, the guards did as she asked. The Mistress returned to her thoughts, and Treasure was taken away with her own. The guards moved her through the forest of weeds and back to a place she hadn't visited in days: the ruined ship that served as her personal prison.
Forcing her inside roughly just for their own pleasure, they left her there, still without food or comfort. Now the warning had been spoken by her Mistress, as if it had never been there before. If she veered again, she was to be killed.
But that is only if they find me.
Treasure was by herself in the silence for a while, considering her life. Was this all she would ever have? A cell as her home, the life of a slave, with no one to love her? She knew that others were suffering. She'd been working to end that—at least that was what she had been told—but how many years had it been? There had been no change, no movement at all. Perhaps she should have been more patient, but her thoughts had been taken over by forces that were drawing her to disobey.
She knew what she wanted, and she aimed to have it.
"I will not do this anymore," she said resolutely, and without waiting for an answer—or caring what the other behind her eyes thought—she moved to the secret exit in her cell and opened it wide. She did not bother closing it when she left, for she knew she would not return.
Treasure swam free of the palace waters. She knew her destination, and she did not stop.