Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) (2 page)

“You were unarmed?” said Hassun.

“No. The mermaids pulled me into the water to speak to him.”

“What—?”

“Let me finish,” I said.

Why were they being so difficult? Anyo, especially, might have been interested in a new strategy that didn’t involve all his students dying. His own daughter had started training. I tried to catch his eye without success.

Hassun gave a lazy flick of his hand.

Before I could continue, the door creaked open. Everyone turned.

A tall, thin girl with a high ponytail entered. She stepped into the dim light and shut the door, lips quirked as though amused by something. She would have been better groomed than I’d seen her since the Massacre, except her hands, arms, and shirt were splattered in bright, wet blood.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

The front legs of Hassun’s chair hit the floor.

“Dani,” said Mujihi, clapping his daughter on the shoulder. “Please, come in.”

The widow squeaked. “What happened?”

“Oh, this?” said Dani, lifting a red hand as though inspecting a manicure.

“Dani’s been out hunting,” said Mujihi. “Caught a healthy doe this morning. Real beauty. Took a bit of time to clean her up, eh kiddo?”

“Mm,” said Dani.

I clenched my teeth. My father had mentioned Dani’s recent involvement in the Massacre Committee. Here I’d been waiting for a trial, for any sort of punishment for her crimes—but two weeks had gone by, and still she walked around freely like a war hero.

Dani swaggered to the table, brushing a hand across Anyo’s shoulders and leaving a smear of blood. She waved to Hassun, who perched forwards in his chair, suddenly more interested in the meeting. Barf.

She pulled out the empty chair across from me and plunked down. Her smile went out like a snuffed flame as she fixed me with her gaze.

“Hope I didn’t miss anything exciting.”

She purred every word, low and sinister. It brought to mind a mountain lion I’d once seen purring as it devoured a large and bloody carcass.

“Nothing you’d be able to add value to,” I said.

Annith cleared her throat. “We were getting to the bargain offered to Meela by the sea demons’ king.”

“Oh,” said Dani, speaking to the room, “so they’ve already mentioned their little plot to stop the Massacres?”

This was answered by grunts. Hassun rocked his chair back again with a creak that filled the small cabin.

So this was it. That was why nobody had been surprised when I announced that the plan involved stopping the Massacres: Dani had already told them. But what, exactly, had she told them? The frowns around me left no doubt that it had been a twisted version of events.

“It’s not a plot,” I said shortly. “It’s a plan to stop our warriors from being killed.”

Dani fixed her pale eyes on me. “Noble intent as always, Metlaa Gaela.”

I turned to the others, ignoring Dani. “King Adaro is looking for the Host of Eriana, a lost legend and an important part of our people’s history. Has anyone heard of it?”

I scanned their faces for signs of recognition. My insides seemed to deflate as I met more frowns. I’d been hoping for some hint, even a tiny shred of information to work from.

Nothing.

I pushed on.

“Adaro has been trying to drive us away from the island so he can find it. His bargain is that he’ll call off the attacks if we hand it over. It must be a powerful weapon. We think it’s something he can use to control the seas, and if we can use it—”

Hassun barked out a laugh. “That’s not how sea demons work, girls. They’re attacking because they feed on human flesh, not because they’re commanded to.”

“See, that’s where we’ve been wrong,” I said, leaning forwards. “They have battle plans, formations, human-like thoughts and behaviours.”

“Meela,” said the widow. “It’s all right to be scared. The Massacre is a high-stress battle that would leave anyone paranoid.”

“I’m not paranoid. This is fact. Mermaids are intelligent. Why do you think they’re targeting us? Adaro wants something from our island. He’s not attacking the rest of the world like he is us.”

“The demons are an invasive species,” said Hassun. “We need to drive them out of the Pacific if we want our freedom back.”

“No, we don’t. The king is the problem. We can make peace.”

Why didn’t any of them understand this?

Surely Dani understood, having made elaborate plans against the mermaids on our Massacre. She’d talked like they were intelligent. Yet here she remained silent, picking at her blood-encrusted nails.

Annith must have sensed my discomposure, because she continued. “Of course, Adaro’s promise to stop attacking our beaches can hardly be called a peace treaty. So instead of making an alliance with a sea demon, Meela and I plan to find this weapon—the Host—and use it against him.”

“If we kill Adaro, we stop the attacks,” I said.

Their faces read solemn and unimpressed. The widow’s mouth gaped open. My father looked away. Anyo stared at the wall behind Annith, which incensed me because the training master’s opinion mattered most.

Dani sighed and leaned back. “That is a well rehearsed story if I ever heard one.”

Hassun smirked.

Dani glanced around pointedly before turning back to me.

“Why on the Gaela’s earth would a sea rat know an ancient legend about Eriana Kwai? One that its own people aren’t familiar with?”

“We think the legend has been lost over time,” said Annith, “but we’re willing to put in the work to find it. In the meantime, we’re hoping to stop the Massacres so we avoid—”

“And you’re telling me,” said Dani, as though Annith hadn’t spoken, “that Meela just happened to be singled out by the king to hear this bargain?”

Annith raised her eyebrows at me in a “maybe you should tell them the whole story” sort of way. I returned an almost imperceptible shake of my head. I couldn’t say anything more without revealing that Adaro had sought me out specifically—that he’d pulled me into the water because he knew about my relationship with one of his warriors. The other half was that he’d return Lysi to me if I found the Host.

“This mermaid king, Ada-what’s-his-name,” said Hassun. “You say he came to your ship while you were slaughtering demons, and he told you about this Host of Eriana?”

“Yes.”

“How did you communicate?”

“He speaks Eriana,” I said.

“He speaks Eriana.”

“Yes. And English and Spanish, I think.”

They exchanged glances, and I realised I shouldn’t have said that last part.

The widow spoke up. “If this Adderall merman—”

“Adaro.”

“Yes. If he came to your ship as you claim, what makes you think he was telling the truth? You’re prepared to trust the word of a sea demon who can speak Eriana?”

“Well, we know Meela’s always been quick to trust a nice mermaid who can speak her language, hasn’t she?” said Dani.

My father’s head snapped up. Annith sucked in a breath.

I held Dani’s gaze as her lips pulled into a sneer.

“So you have mentioned,” said Mujihi.

No
, I thought desperately.

The room seemed to cool as everyone stared. They knew.

“This plan does conveniently stop the demons from getting slaughtered, too,” said Hassun.

Sweat prickled beneath my skin. Dani must have found out from one of the girls who’d seen Lysi. Was it Texas? But how much did Texas know? Did she realise how much history Lysi and I had?

No, she wouldn’t. As far as the girls on the Massacre knew, Lysi and I had spoken once, and then she’d saved my life. My crew didn’t understand why, or for how long we’d known each other.

I had to keep it that way. My people couldn’t know about Lysi. Not ever. They would hate me for it—worse, those I cared about would be disappointed in me. No one would love a girl who loved a mermaid. Eriana Kwai was my family, my history, and I could never alienate myself like that.

But Dani and Texas had obviously mentioned Lysi. And now my people would never trust me enough to support my plan.

Dani flashed her most charming smile around the room.

I narrowed my eyes. If she wanted to get nasty, fine. I wasn’t the only one with a black smudge of betrayal in my past.

Mirroring her venomous tone, I said, “Tell me, Dani, why weren’t you around when Adaro came to the ship?”

Annith’s head snapped from Dani to me.

“You were a little isolated at the time, were you not?” I said.

Dani’s face went hard as stone.

Mujihi stepped forwards. “Enough. Dani has a point. This young lady”—he pointed a thick, calloused finger at me—“is keen to stop the Massacres. It sounds like she has enlisted her friend here to help pitch this tale.”

“It’s not a tale,” I said, temper flaring. “Most of us in this room know what it’s like out there. Why send more girls on the Massacre when there’s a way we can avoid it?”

“Metlaa Gaela,” said Anyo, finally opening his mouth. “It is a noble goal to protect the future girls of Eriana Kwai. But—”

“But the Massacres are looking up,” said Mujihi.

“How many times have we said that in the past?” I said. “Sending women instead of men might be a more successful strategy, but it doesn’t change the fact that a lot of them are going to die before we get anywhere—
if
we get anywhere!”

No matter what, I couldn’t let another Massacre happen. Adaro’s rising desperation, along with my failure to find the Host in time, meant the next Massacre would end worse than ever—for the warriors aboard the ship, for my people, and for Lysi.

My heart ached to think about it. Lysi was his hostage right now. I had no idea where she was, or what he was doing with her.

“We have a newer strategy yet,” said Mujihi. “A new training master.”

I opened my mouth, but his words hit me like a rock to the head. I spluttered.

“New—what—new training—?”

Anyo flicked his gaze to me before lowering it to the table. I caught a glint of apology in his dark, tired eyes.

Mujihi clasped a huge, calloused hand on Anyo’s shoulder.

“Since your departure in May, I have taken over the training program. We have been working on new strategies and experimenting with a deadlier range of weapons.”

“No,” I said before I could stop myself.

Mujihi’s expression darkened, giving him the appearance of a hawk on the hunt.

“It’s just—Anyo has always been the training master. You can’t change that.”

I felt Annith’s eyes on me. This, we had not planned for.

“With Anyo’s daughter in training,” said Mujihi, “the committee felt there was a conflict of interest. Besides, many have been pushing for a change in the program for years.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And I suppose you had a vote on the new training master.”

“It was an obvious choice,” said Hassun. “No one else had a plan for new weapons, better training—even the idea to send women in the first place.”

Mujihi puffed out his chest. I caught a glimpse of Dani in his expression.

I turned back to my father, waiting for him to offer any shred of support. He was watching Mujihi, jaw tight.

“Girls,” said the widow, “I think I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate your ideas for helping our people. But we have no evidence of the Host of Eriana. This legend isn’t substantiated by anything, which gives us no reason to pursue it.”

“If we had some help, and gave our best shot at finding it …” said Annith, but not a single face showed interest.

My father drummed his knuckles on the table. “Have you exhausted all potential sources of evidence?”

“The library is … limited,” I said, shifting in the rigid chair.

Since returning from the Massacre, Annith and I had read every book on our people’s history, including essays, newspaper archives, a reference book on local fungi, even a picture book called
Ern the Eagle Learns to Fly
.

“Certainly, there are pieces of history we don’t know about,” said my father. “Many legends have been passed verbally and lost over time. I suggest you find proof, and then—”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Hassun. “We need to keep fighting. If we stop the Massacres, we’re surrendering.”

“We want to stop the Massacres, not give up,” I said. “We’ll still use the trainees. They’ll help us find the Host. Just don’t send them to sea. Adaro’s army is getting stronger and the mermaids will probably sink the ship within the first few days.”

At this proclamation, the silence in the room thickened. Either the idea scared them, or they were wondering why I knew so much about Adaro’s army.

“You have nearly a year before the next Massacre,” said the widow. “I suggest you do your best, and if you haven’t found this Host before then, we’ll keep doing what we know works.”

“But the Massacres don’t work!” I said, slapping the table. “They’re a death sentence! These girls will be doomed the second their ship hits open water.”

“Can we wrap this up?” said Hassun, watching Dani fix her ponytail.

I stood. “No. This committee was formed to protect our people and save us from sea demons, and you’re ignoring a real solution.”

“Meela, sit down,” said my father.

“I think we should end this meeting before tempers get out of hand,” said Mujihi with exaggerated calmness.

I dropped into my chair. “I’m fine.”

“No, we’re done here,” said Hassun. “I have to go close up the foundry.”

I clenched my fists. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.

“So you’re willing to send a girl out to fight for our people,” I said, “but you’re not willing to listen to what she has to say?”

“It’s not like that,” said my father, but I didn’t want to hear it from him. I wanted to hear it from the others.

“You’re using us,” I said. “You’re training us to fight this war because it’s the only way to battle the sea demons, but you won’t take us seriously. We trained for five years and spent a month on the fringe of being eaten alive. We deserve to be treated like adults.”

“Then as an adult,” said the widow, rising, “you understand we cannot base a decision to stop training for the Massacres on a myth for which you have no evidence.”