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Divine Scales Page 5
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Benita’s jaw dropped and even Ernesto blinked out of his daydreaming to gape at her. Marcela’s heart pounded, her verbal declaration of the feelings that had been stirring inside her since that night pushing a wave of adrenaline through her system.
“You love him?” Benita echoed. “Isn’t that a little sudden?”
Marcela shrugged even as her eyes strayed back to the palace. “Yes. But… I can’t explain it.” She propped her chin up on her hand again, swirling her tail in the water behind her. Back and forth, back and forth. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “He’s such a good man.”
“Si.” Benita settled her shawl a little more firmly around her shoulders, the golden thread woven through the red material catching the sunlight. “But it is still a bit sudden.”
“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to make time for myself?” Marcela crossed her arms and leaned forward. “I recall you telling me, quite strenuously, that I should be looking for a nice man to settle down with instead of filling all of my time with my duties.”
“I said a nice merman,” Benita corrected her. “And I certainly didn’t say the meeting and settling down should happen in the same week.”
“Prince Patricio is an angel and you’re a mermaid. How would that even work?” Ernesto spoke up.
Benita shot him a withering glance. “Ernesto, please.”
The teenager’s words echoed around Marcela’s head and she worried her lip with her teeth. “No, he’s right. It’s been days and Patricio hasn’t come back to the water and I can’t go to see him on land. I hardly ever saw him up close until last night, who knows if I’ll see him up close like that again?”
“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Ernesto started.
“Callate la voca!” Benita swatted the boy upside the head and he silenced with a wince. She then turned back to Marcela. “Marcela, you work too hard. It’s only natural that you should be a little carried away by the excitement of meeting a man as handsome as the prince. But please believe me when I say that these things cannot be rushed. Give yourself some time, nina, talk to other young men. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”
Marcela rubbed her fingers against her chest over her heart. Some sort of invisible weight pressed against her, making it uncomfortable to breathe. She gazed at the castle, straining to see the balcony she’d once noticed Patricio fly out of. Was that his room? Oh, if only she could get up there to see…
“I have to go.”
“Marcela, wait.”
Too distracted to listen, Marcela slid off the rock, back into the sea. She kept her eyes on the palace the whole time, part of her trying to will herself to float up through the air. The sea wrapped her in its familiar cool embrace as she slipped into the depths. Sunlight sparkled in the current and she gradually turned from the palace and swam toward her father’s home. Mooning at the prince from the water wouldn’t gain her anything. She needed a plan first.
The farther she swam, the worse the ache in her chest grew. She swam faster and faster, as if somehow she could leave the strange pain behind, lose it in the shadows of the deeper waters. Her eyes adjusted easily to the feeble light, allowing her to swirl around coral reefs and miss the looming bodies of giant fish. She passed a single moray eel, its sinewy maroon body honeycombed with large tan spots. A school of cerulean and tangerine peacock fish flooded past her, sending a rush of bubbles to tickle her skin. She brushed them off, determinedly swimming faster.
A surge of movement caught her eyes as she neared her father’s underwater palace, the first tips of coral encrusted turrets coming into view. A flurry of bright colors heralded the approach of her sisters and she slowed as they all came charging at her.
“Marcela, where have you been?” Adelina swirled around Marcela, brown eyes scrutinizing every inch of her sister as if checking for signs of foul play. Her burnished orange scales flickered with gold in the faint sunlight that succeeded in piercing the water this deep. The effect was a tail like the shooting stars they could sometimes see flying through the inky night skies. The wreath of coral sitting on her head matched her scales perfectly and highlighted the streaks of red in her auburn hair as she continued to circle Marcela.
“I was at the surface talking with Benita and Ernesto.” Marcela leaned back, floating in the midst of her agitated siblings. Her conversation with Benita about Patricio was in the front of her mind and she had the irrational conviction that somehow her sisters could see her thoughts projected on her face. “I visit them often, you know that.”
“Not on the day of your brother’s funeral.” Nita brushed back the long tendrils of her pale blonde hair that had floated forward, partially obscuring her mournful blue eyes. Her tone lacked its usual pep, sounding dull and half-hearted. Even the cerulean scales of her tail seemed subdued somehow.
“Gaspar.” Marcela smacked her forehead and ran a hand over her face, a sudden weight making her dip slightly in the water. “I thought the council was still confirming what I told them about how he died?”
“Oh, they confirmed it.” Ria crossed her arms, hunching her pale shoulders, her violet tail thrashing angrily beneath her. “It was definitely Prince Patricio’s sword. The wounds healed into silver scars spelling out Gaspar’s crimes.” Her black ringlets bounced in the current like angry little snakes. “The rumors were true. He was a thief and a murderer.”
Ice lanced Marcela’s heart. She rubbed her chest, remembering her thoughts the last time she’d spoken to her brother. “I should have stopped him. I knew he was up to no good.” She ran a hand through her hair, tugging on it as if the dull pain could distract her from her failure. “All that gold. Looking back, he wasn’t even trying to hide it. It’s shameful that he was that confident that we would never discover his crimes.”
Nita huddled into herself, wrapping her arms around her torso. “He should have seen justice from his own people, not been massacred by that self-righteous angel.”
“Nita, do not ever speak of Prince Patricio like that again!”
Marcela’s voice lashed out at her sister, cracking like a whip over her cowed body. Nita leaned back, clasping one hand over her mouth. She lunged forward and swam around Marcela, scrutinizing her as if she’d grown a second tail.
“What is wrong with you?” She shoved Marcela’s shoulder, hard enough to send a spike of pain through her joint. Her eyes grew cold as icebergs and she clenched her hands into fists. “He was one of us—he was our brother. You’re the one always championing our justice system. How can you possibly think Gaspar deserved such an execution?”
A strange giddy sensation rose in Marcela like a tide of bubbles. The weight she’d experienced earlier lightened and she straightened her spine. “Prince Patricio did us a favor. Gaspar was stealing from sailors, threatening their lives to make them give up their possessions. Father is always telling us how important it is to maintain good relations with the surface-dwellers, how we have to fight against the lingering ill will of our brutal past. Gaspar could have destroyed all of that. Is that what you want? A war with the surface dwellers? To go back to being hunted like animals instead of respected as people? We should be grateful to Patricio for not holding Gaspar’s crimes against us all.”
Nita shrieked, an angry, lost sound. She raised her hands as if she’d strike Marcela, baring teeth that had grown sharper, less human. Her blue eyes flashed like the body of an electric eel and her skin took on a grey pallor, closer to a shark than a human.
An answering anger heated inside Marcela and she reached deep inside herself, let go of the tight band of control her people had nurtured inside themselves for the last few decades. Her own teeth grew more jagged, and she parted her lips to reveal them to her sister. Such metamorphosis was considered barbaric by her people now, except in extreme cases. If any of her people were to swim by to witness this, their father would certainly have something to say about it. Marcela clenched her hands into fists and shoved her better sense away.
Her father would never have to know. She could not let the insult against Patricio stand.
A trident appeared suddenly between them, silver tip glinting amidst a nest of coral and pearls. Marcela followed the handle of the trident up to meet Adelina’s sharp, disapproving look. She blanched as her older sister waved the trident at Marcela and Nita in turn.
“This behavior is unbecoming of you both.” Adelina glared at Nita. “Control yourself. I am in the middle of my turn on patrol and it would be humiliating for us all if I had to bring you before our father as a threat.”
Nita snarled, but her eyes lost their ethereal light and her teeth returned to their original smooth, pearly state. She turned her back to Marcela, hunching over and curling her tail forward. Her delicate shoulders trembled as if she were crying. Marcela blinked, warm tears threatening behind her eyes.
“Nita.” Marcela reached a hand out, hesitant.
Ria swam in front of her, nearly crashing into Marcela in the process. “Leave her alone, Marcela.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Marcela swam backwards, dismayed by the ferocity on Ria’s face.
Ria’s mouth opened and closed, her ebony eyes hard as obsidian. “What’s wrong with me? What has gotten into you? Prince Patricio did us a favor? By killing our brother and treating us like a band of heathens with no justice system of our own? And when did you start dropping his title?”
Images of Patricio filled Marcela’s mind. For a second she was back on the beach, the sand beneath her scales and the prince’s warm body next to her. She could feel the puff of his breath on her face, see his eyes sparkle like sunlight on the waves. There’d been a connection, an attraction. He must have sensed it too.
“Marcela?” Adelina swam up to Marcela, taking her arm and leaning in. Lines appeared in her forehead as her sharp brown gaze searched Marcela’s. “There’s something different about you. Your eyes look sort of…glassy.”
“There is nothing wrong with me.” Marcela pulled away, crossing her arms as she swam backwards, away from Adelina’s look of concern. “I’m trying to make you understand that there’s no reason to be angry with Patricio.”
“He must be some kisser,” Nita piped up, her sweet voice sliding through the water like a serpent and sinking its fangs into Marcela’s spine. “To make you turn on your own family.”
Cheeks burning, Marcela glared at Nita as her other siblings whirled to face her.
“Nita, what are you talking about?” Ria glared at Marcela then leaned toward Nita, prompting her to answer.
“Fernan saw them,” Nita announced, pale blue eyes flashing bright enough to glow in the dark water. “While we towed the ship into port, Marcela dragged the handsome angel to the beach.” She twirled a strand of pale golden hair around her finger, the shards of ice in her eyes belying the innocent gesture. “Apparently it looked very cozy.”
“His sword was still wet with Gaspar’s blood.” Adelina shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How could you…?”
“Gaspar was killing people, Adelina! What was Patricio supposed to do? He’s the prince, these are his people we’re talking about, he’s responsible for them.” The words tumbled from Marcela’s lips with no pause for her to think. Every fiber of her being drove her to defend Patricio, made her desperate to make them understand what a good man he was, what a righteous man he was.
“He’s not responsible for us,” Ria snarled. Her violet eyes burned like amethyst fire. “We have our own laws and our own justice, and we don’t need some feathered—”
“That is enough.”
All four mermaids stood to attention as their father’s voice swept over them like a deep shadow. King Triton slowly swam forward, midnight blue scales glittering as his tail propelled him closer to his daughters. Severe silver eyes regarded each of his daughters in turn as his fingers tightened on the heavy golden trident held firmly in his grip. The sharp points sang their viciousness to the water, warning all that the king was present and he was formidable. Power echoed in the weapon, the symbol of the sea king’s power.
“Prince Patricio acted to protect his people,” King Triton continued, fixing Ria with a firm stare. “The situation involved humans, he had a right to step in.”
“Gaspar was—” Nita protested.
“My son,” King Triton boomed.
They all flinched and bowed their heads in respect for their king. The trident vibrated in response to the power in the merking’s voice, flashing a golden wave of light over the mermaids.
“Gaspar was my son, and his crimes were my failure,” Triton continued quietly. “He should have been my responsibility, but that is something for me to discuss, in private, with King Emidio. That being said, it is not your place to question Prince Patricio now. What’s done is done, and souring political relations with the landdwellers will serve no one.” He swept his gaze over all his daughters, and his face softened. “We must mourn Gaspar, in our own way, despite his crimes. That is all we can do.”
He turned to Marcela. “I am not such an old fool that I cannot see my daughter’s interest in a gentleman has been piqued. It has been a long time since I’ve heard of you opening your eyes to a gentleman.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’m afraid the path you have chosen will not be easy. There is magic around the prince, a magic I cannot understand.” He ran a hand over his face in a rare sign of weariness, his silver eyes seeming duller, tired. “You must also remember, my daughter, that as much as we try to maintain good relations with the surface-dwellers, their world is not ours. I won’t forbid you to pursue this…interest…in Prince Patricio.” He cupped her face in his hand. “But I strongly urge you to look elsewhere. Please consider my warning before you rush into anything.”
Marcela’s cheeks burned with self-consciousness. For three days she’d thought about Patricio, missed him. Now, today, saying it all out loud and hearing others talk about it… Everything was more real. Inescapable.
The mermaids were silent as their father swam away, the host of guards that had hung back in the shadows while the monarch had spoken to his daughters following as he retreated. Marcela imagined she could see derision in their eyes. They had obviously heard what her father had said about her feelings for Prince Patricio—and they disapproved.
Marcela turned to her sisters, her head swimming with thoughts of Patricio and what her feelings for him would mean for her reputation among her people. Ria crossed her arms and refused to look at her. Adelina met her eyes, but the look on her face was uncomfortable and Marcela bit her lip against the pain of the disappointment in her older sister’s eyes. She steeled herself to look at Nita, surprised to find the venom gone from her visage. Her golden haired sister had been closer to Gaspar than any of them. Seeing her with her slim, pale shoulders drooping, the proud jut of her chin now sagging against her chest… It hurt Marcela to see her that way.
A fine trembling started in Marcela’s tail. They were right. In some deep, dark part of her mind, she knew they were right. Patricio had killed Gaspar, had executed him without a thought to the merpeople’s justice system—a system Marcela herself was a part of, an advocate of. And a romance with him, a relationship, was laughable. They couldn’t be farther apart.
Marcela clenched her hands into fists at her sides. None of that mattered. Her father’s words echoed in her head, but they didn’t change anything. For the first time since she could remember, she wanted something, something that had nothing to do with duty or anyone else’s happiness. She wanted something for herself, something that was completely unreasonable, but still a desire. She deserved happiness, damn it, a chance to reach for something for no other reason than she wanted it.
Tearing her gaze away from her sisters, Marcela swam for the surface. Lashing her tail against the currents, she swam faster and faster, determined to outrun the thoughts swirling like writhing Charybdis in her mind. It wasn’t until she slowed down, a few meters from the surface, that she regis
tered the physical weight around her neck.
“Hello.”
Marcela squeaked as she found herself face to face with a cuelebre. The delicate serpent flicked its tongue at her, its beady eyes unwavering in their observation.
“Hello?” she echoed.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversssation with your family,” the cuelebre continued.
“You were… Were you around my neck back then?”
“No.”
She waited, but the little snake remained still and silent. “I see.” She cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”
“I don’t need help.”
The serpent didn’t offer anything more.
“Is there a reason you’re hanging around my neck?” Marcela asked finally, unable to think of a tactful way to ask.
“Yesss. I wanted to point out to you, that if you’d like to be human, the only one likely to help you would be the sssea witch.”