“I think I know where Nalia and Emma get their temper.”
Galen laughs. “I thought Jagen was going to pass out when Antonis grabbed him.”
“He’s not very good at interacting with others anymore, is he?”
“I wonder if he ever was. I told you how crazy Nalia always acted. Could be a family trait.”
It looks like Toraf might actually smile but instead his gaze jerks back out to sea, a new scowl on his face.
“Oh, no,” Galen groans. “What is it?” Please don’t say Emma. Please don’t say Emma.
“Rayna,” Toraf says through clenched teeth. “She’s heading straight for us.”
That’s almost as bad. Of course, it could be worse, considering all that happened yesterday. Jagen’s outrageous claims—not to mention King Antonis’s wild display of temper—landed all the Royals under Archival restriction. They must now keep within the narrow confines of the Boundary until the tribunal ends. Emma’s presence would more than complicate things. Everyone is already suspicious of the Royals; what would the council of Archives think if they knew the Royals were hiding the existence of a Half-Breed? It would ruin any hope they have—what little there may be, that is—of getting a positive verdict back from the council.
No, Rayna’s arrival isn’t the worst thing that could happen—unless, of course, it means Emma is in some sort of trouble. But Toraf would tell him if Rayna were swimming with more urgency than normal, wouldn’t he? Still, Rayna’s unannounced visit isn’t a good thing. Grom and Toraf will share the same foul mood. Plus there’s always the issue of Rayna’s mouth. But what did they expect? Rayna has never been especially fond of being left out. He knew it was just a matter of time. “You have to meet her, tell her to turn around before she gets in the Boundary.”
Toraf shakes his head. “She’s been in range for a while now. She started this way yesterday while the tribunal was in session. While I couldn’t do anything about it.” Toraf turns to Galen. “Trackers have already sensed her. She passed within range of at least two Poseidon Trackers on the way. They’re following her.”
“How long until she’s here?” Galen still can’t sense her, so she’s still a good distance away. “Why can’t you just go meet her?”
“We’re being watched as we speak.” He inclines his head to their left—the general direction in which Galen feels Jagen’s pulse. A pulse that gets stronger by the second. He’s coming toward us.
“Shark,” Galen mutters.
Toraf nods. “I know. But before he’s close, there’s something I need to tell you.” He turns to Galen. “Emma was in the water yesterday, too.”
Galen pinches the bridge of his nose. “Great.”
“She was with someone, Galen. One of us.”
“What? Who? Why? Great. That’s just great.”
Toraf shakes his head almost indiscernibly. “Not so loud. I’m telling you, they’ve got ten Trackers on you right now.” He sighs. “It was Jasa.”
“Jasa? I don’t know her.”
“I do. She’s a fingerling, ten seasons old. I overheard her mother, Kana, telling one of the Archives that she’s been disappearing, going off on her own. I think … I think she talked to Emma. They were very close to each other. Close enough for a long enough time that they could’ve talked. The weird thing is … Emma wasn’t in the water at all, and then suddenly she was, like she was on a boat or something and jumped in.”
“I swear if—” Galen starts to name all kinds of ways to kill Rachel if she’s involved, but he’s cut off by the sound of his new favorite person to loathe approaching.
“Highness, I’ve heard your lovely sister plans to join us soon,” Jagen says from behind them. “What a happy reunion.”
Galen rolls his eyes before turning to face him. “You are correct, Jagen. Rayna has missed you. She loves that face you make when you’re upset. She says it’s the best impression of a rockfish she’s ever seen.”
Jagen doesn’t like this. His lips curl into a snarl. “Go ahead, young prince. Have a laugh at my expense. I assure you it will be the last time.”
Toraf glides in front of Galen. “That sounds a lot like a threat. To my knowledge, threatening a Royal is still illegal.”
Galen grabs his shoulder. “It’s fine, Toraf. Let this squid release his ink. Ink will only last so long before it fades away in the current. When his protective cloud is gone, everyone will see what’s really going on here.”
Jagen nods. “We shall see, young ones.” He rakes his eyes over Toraf. “Tell your mate that she stays with the rest of the Royals. If she tries to leave, I’ll have her thrown in the Ice Caverns. She can wait there until the rest of you join her.”
Toraf starts toward Jagen again, but Galen holds him back. “This is not the time,” Galen says. Jagen gives Toraf a smug smile. Galen adds, “Besides, you saw his face when Antonis had him by the throat. We don’t want him to faint before things get interesting, do we?”
To Galen’s dismay, Jagen laughs. “Things have already gotten interesting, Highness. See you soon.”
* * *
Galen waits with Toraf until Rayna arrives. She is accompanied by two Poseidon Trackers. When she sees Toraf, she throws herself into his arms. He hugs her, but then pushes her back. “You’re in so much trouble, princess,” he tells her. It’s the first time Galen has ever seen him be truly stern with his sister.
“It looks like you’re the one in trouble. What’s taking so long?”
“The Archives have convened a tribunal,” Toraf says. “For the last few days, they’ve been trying to verify whether or not Emma’s mother is really the Poseidon heir.”
That’s the nice version of the story, Galen thinks to himself. Wait until she hears everything.
“What? That’s dumb. Tribunals only last a few hours. You’ve been gone for days. And why did these idiots follow me?” She motions toward the Trackers. They grin as they swim away—to the Loyal section.
Toraf sighs. “Other tribunals are about simple things, like thievery. This one is … You shouldn’t have come here. I told you not to come, no matter what.”
“Emma said I should come,” she says.
“That’s a lie,” Galen says, recognizing the slight flinch in her eye when she’s not telling the truth. “And why was Emma in the water?”
Her eyes go round as oysters. “She was? I didn’t know. Rachel bought us some jet skeezers. She must have taken one out.”
Galen rolls his eyes. “What else? What else could go wrong?”
Toraf snorts. “Don’t invite trouble, Highness.”
“Don’t call me Highness.”
Just then, Tandel calls the tribunal to order and the Royals are ushered to their place in the Arena.
“Highness,” Toraf hisses with a smirk as he swims in the direction of the Triton section.
Galen is envious of his friend’s inconspicuous viewpoint in the Arena. All the Royals must stay in the center. Galen can’t decide if it’s for their protection or to assure that they don’t escape their own tribunal. Probably both. After all, there are those here still devoted to the Royals.
But Toraf is lucky. He’s not a true Royal; since he’s only mated to one, he does not have the same restrictions that Galen and his family have. Neither does Paca, who takes her place in the section of Loyals next to her conniving father.
Tandel begins. “My friends, thank you for your patience. Patience, because this is the longest tribunal in the known history of our kind.” He smiles. Galen has to admit that Tandel has done his duty, acting neutrally throughout the duration of the trial. If he is secretly a Loyal, Galen can’t tell.
“We are hoping that today will show us the end of the debate. To that end, King Antonis would like to address the audience. I turn the stone over to him.”
Antonis is met with a disgruntled roar from the Loyal section. He hovers over the stone, his profile casting a wave-distorted shadow in the sand in front of him. “My friends, I must first begin by apologizing. For my act
ions yesterday, yes. But for so much more. Jagen’s accusations upset me very much. They upset me because some of those accusations were true.”
This prompts a murmur from the crowd. Antonis continues. “Jagen said that I have neglected my duty as the leader of the Poseidon territory. This is true. Friends, you remember how distraught I was when my mate, Queen Aja, died. But I took comfort in my daughter, the way my Aja would have wanted me to. When I thought I’d lost Nalia, as well … It was more than I could bear. Life did not seem worth living, friends. I did not think you deserved a ruler who could not even protect his own family. If the law would have given me a way out of ruling, I would have taken it.”
The king pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Tandel reaches out to comfort him, but Antonis waves him off. “No. I want to finish. Please.” Galen wonders if Tandel and Antonis are old friends.
Antonis looks back up into the audience, searching, scrutinizing each expectant face. “You all know what happened after the explosion. That Nalia was presumed dead. And that I presumed Grom, now the Triton king, had killed her. I am ashamed of the things I accused him of. I was irrational, friends. Driven mad by grief. But that is no excuse for abandoning you, for abandoning my duty as king. I should have taken another mate, produced another heir.”
Antonis swims slightly away from the stone, toward the section of Loyals. “But friends, my daughter is not dead.” He turns to Nalia, gives her an adoring smile. “She is here, among the Royals, as is her place. She has returned to us. When she fled to land all those seasons ago, she was young and afraid. And she was grief-stricken, having thought she killed her future mate. Take the time, friends, to imagine what that feels like.”
The Poseidon king folds his arms behind his back. “I do not make excuses for what she did; fleeing from her kind, living on land was wrong. She broke the law. But so have many of you here today. Jagen has acted treasonously toward the Royals, and has forsaken the law handed down from our great generals. He has accused the Royals of unimaginable things. Many of you have followed his lead. I beg you today to desist in this madness. To accept Nalia as the Poseidon heir. To reunite her with her intended mate, Grom. But more than that. I beg you to reunite the kingdoms of Triton and Poseidon once more. Just as the generals always intended.”
The Loyals give a cry of outrage, but for a moment it is drowned out by the applause of slapping tails in the Arena. In fact, some of the Loyals leave their companions and move to the Triton and Poseidon sections.
Jagen is quick to recover. He swims to Tandel and whispers something to the old Archive. Tandel nods, his expression eager to help.
Tandel addresses the Arena over the continuous drone of the crowd. “Friends, I would like to invite Jagen up to speak again. It has come to our attention that he has some new information.”
Jagen graciously takes the center stone of the Arena. “Friends, don’t be hasty in gifting the Royals with your trust once again. Trust must be earned. Don’t be enchanted by the words of a king you have not seen in too many seasons.” He chides the audience with a disappointed look. “As it turns out, I do indeed have new information.”
Jagen smiles viciously at the small section of Royals behind the center stone. “No doubt you’ve noticed the sudden presence of Princess Rayna. For the past few days, we have been searching for her, without the cooperation of the Royals. We feel it is important to hear her testimony, as her future is determined by the outcome of this tribunal as well.”
“What is he talking about?” Rayna snarls to Galen.
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I didn’t know they were looking for you.” Which is the truth. And it’s also very clever on Jagen’s part. Of course he didn’t have the cooperation of the Royals—he never told us he was looking for her. But that might be for the better, since none of them were likely to give up her location anyway. What’s more is that Jagen sees value in Rayna’s testimony. Putting her on the center stone and provoking her temper is the best way to turn the rest of the crowd against the Royals. Galen exchanges a concerned look with Grom.
“If it would please you, friends,” Jagen continues, “I would like to inquire of her Highness as to her whereabouts, and her involvement in the appearance of the alleged Poseidon heir.”
The audience seems to applaud as one, beating their fins against each other. The sound reverberates through the Arena. Jagen smiles. “Without further delay, I invite Princess Rayna to the center stone.”
Rayna grabs Galen’s hand. “I don’t want to go to the center stone.”
“I know. Just stay calm. You’ll be okay.”
She shoots him a look. “You don’t believe that.”
“I believe it, if you keep your temper in check. Toraf is over there in section Triton. Just keep your eyes on him. Don’t look at the crowd.”
She takes in a breath. “I don’t say things the right way.”
“I know.”
“And he’s going to make me mad.”
“I know.”
“I shouldn’t have come back.”
I know. Galen places his hand on the small of her back and propels her forward. He wishes she’d come just a little sooner—she could have changed into the traditional Syrena seaweed wrap for females. Now she has to take the center stone wearing the top half of a purple human swimsuit. Jagen can be relied upon to exploit that to his full advantage.
Rayna takes forever to reach the center stone. Jagen rolls his eyes.
Tandel greets Rayna warmly. “Thank you for honoring us with your presence, Highness. Jagen has expressed the desire for your testimony on the issues at hand. Please start with where you have been, princess. Jagen has reported that Trackers have not been able to find you.”
Rayna flounders for a moment, then straightens up the moment she finds Toraf in the crowd. It’s as if confidence has inflated her; she pokes her chest out and lifts her chin. Galen’s not sure if that’s good or bad. “I was on land.”
“I’m sorry, Highness, but would you mind speaking louder?” Tandel coaxes.
“I can’t,” she croaks. “My voice has left me.”
“How convenient,” Jagen sneers.
She crosses her arms at him. Beside Galen, Grom stiffens. There’s no telling what she’s about to say. But thankfully, Rayna seems to remember Galen’s advice to keep her temper. She uncrosses her arms and relaxes. A little. She looks at Tandel. “You can appoint someone to speak for me, if you want. I can’t talk, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say.”
Tandel nods. “Of course, Highness.” He motions for a female Archive, Atta, to come to the center. “Atta will assist you, princess. She serves on the council for this tribunal and is therefore a neutral party in these proceedings. Please tell her what you wish our friends in the Arena to know. She will relay your words.”
Rayna nods. “Fine. I said I could not be Tracked because I was on land.” Atta relays her answer to the Arena.
“And why were you on land, Highness?” Tandel asks.
Rayna mulls over this for a moment. She glances back at Galen in askance. He shrugs. He’s not sure how she should respond. The truth would be irretrievably condemning. But what could she possibly say that will make any sense? She turns back to Tandel. “I was on land because I was afraid for my life.” She waits for Atta to transfer her comment to the rest of them. Then she continues. “Everyone knows Jagen has been guilty of conspiracy for many seasons. I’ve known for a while that the Royals would be in danger somehow. Especially when he had Paca pretend to have the Gift of Poseidon.”
An irate Jagen swims to the center stone. Rayna halts him. “What do you think you’re doing? You can see that it’s my turn to give testimony. You wanted this, remember?” Atta looks as if she’d rather not repeat that, but Rayna gives her a reproving look. The Archive concedes. The Arena hums with scandal when they hear.
Jagen whirls on the crowd. “Do you hear the nonsense she has spoken? She’s calling into question your good judgment! Yo
u have already seen, have already decided for yourselves that my own Paca has the Gift of Poseidon. She has demonstrated it for you at your every request. This Royal is calling me, and all of you, liars! How can we trust anything she says? Look at her.” He points to her bathing suit top. “She wasn’t hiding from me. She was enjoying herself on land, living like a human. It seems having an ambassador to humans for a brother has been quite convenient for our young princess.”
Galen feels his throat constricting. The crowd is wild with agitation.
Rayna lunges for Jagen. “You slithering eel!” But her voice gives out and she sounds like an angry sea lion trying to make words. Jagen moves out of the way. Trackers seize Rayna and pull her back by the arms. She glares at Atta. “You tell them that I don’t like humans. You tell them that I was hiding from Jagen!”
Atta shouts over the disgruntled moans of the assembly, but it falls on deaf ears.
Then a voice speaks up, louder than everyone else. Angrier than everyone else. “She’s a liar!” The crowd grows silent.
Because the voice belongs to Toraf.
“What is he doing?” Grom says, nudging Galen’s shoulder with his own.
Galen watches as Toraf makes his way to the center stone and comes face-to-face with Jagen. Then Toraf, his best friend since they were fingerlings, bows to the traitor. Jagen seems as surprised as Galen feels.
“Toraf!” Rayna shrieks. “What—”
“Someone shut her up,” Toraf says, motioning to the Trackers who hold his mate. “I’m tired of listening to her lies.”
Jagen is still unsure. He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“All the Royals are lying. They’re covering up for themselves. And I won’t be a part of it any longer.” Toraf makes eye contact with Galen. He doesn’t even flinch when he says, “Especially Prince Galen. He’s found a Half-Breed. He’s been hiding her existence from all of you.”
The entire Arena seems to gasp in unison. Toraf clasps Jagen on the shoulder. Galen feels like he’s swallowed a blowfish. “If you will forgive me for my part in it, Jagen, I vow to bring the Half-Breed to you. As proof.”