Page 95 of On Silver Winds
Something about her steady stare made him certain that it would be a very bad idea to acknowledge Adeline in this precise moment. He met Mareda’s eye instead, and feigned a polite, quizzical expression.
Yes?
She looked away.
The seats around the table filled out, and with Selma and Sebastian’s arrival, the meeting was finally underway. These sessions, never a place of warmth and welcome for Kai to begin with, had become insufferably tense as the weeks went on. As parts of the Laune continued to melt, as more and more Merchants found their magic disrupted and businesses floundering, the Council found less time to talk of anything but the Thaw.
Today, the Commander of Wielders told the Queen and the room at large of how his team had recruited several young apprentices. The youths were to be rushed through their training and qualified within the month, so great was the urgency for more magic-Wielding hands to help repair the centre of the lake. The thinning ice that had once been a shattered chasm through which the surviving Merrow escaped.
Kai did not miss the casual brush of several pairs of eyes darting to and from his face throughout the Commander’s briefing.
“Excellent work, Edward,” said Selma, once he concluded his report. “Please do pass our well wishes on to the trainees. Any assistance we can find at this time will no doubt be greatly appreciated.”
Edward gave a gracious nod and opened his mouth to thank her, but Mareda’s voice rang out over him, melodic as a silver bell and just as jarring.
“What of the Merrow, Your Majesty?”
Those casual eyes throughout the room stopped darting and landed firmly on Kai; she was not addressing her mother, he realised with a jolt.
He recovered quick enough, raising one eyebrow to mirror hers. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Princess.”
Mareda smiled, patient and sweet. Too forced. A wary tension knitted itself across Kai’s shoulders at that smile.
“Well, my father has just explained the Wielder’s dilemma. They’re desperate. They don’t have the manpower to repair the extensive damage to the Lake.”
That slight inflection on the worddamagewas an accusation in itself. The damage thathecaused, he supposed, by daring to excavate his frozen, half-dead kin from the splintering ice.
“What’s your question, Mareda?”
This, growled from Adeline at the other end of the table, turned several heads. He didn’t look at her; he was too concerned with the swift look that passed between Mareda and Edward at Adeline’s interjection. A wordless conversation. Although he seemed somewhat reluctant, Edward nodded minutely, and Mareda smiled again – something affirmed.
“I’m simply asking,” she said, turning back to Kai, not Adeline. “Are there no Wielders among the Merrow?”
Kai did not know what to say. It was true that he’d never wanted to bring his lost magic to the attention of the Beira; had wanted to learn from his mistakes of centuries past. But in the back of his mind, he’d still assumed they allknew. This was an integral part of the folklore to which the Merrow had been cast after the Frost, wasn’t it? Part of what had made them worthy of legend, and kept them from being entirely forgotten. So, painful as it was, he might have spoken about the water magic in his blood if pressed.
But Mareda’s careful, taunting line of enquiry was enough to give him pause.
From the head of the table, the Queen caught his eye and opened her palm to him with a slight nod, in gentle offering – giving him the choice of how much he would share with the Council. Kai swallowed, slowly so as not to let his throat bob and give away his growing dread.
He met Mareda’s gaze.
“All Merrow can Wield magic to some extent, Princess.”
There was no collective gasp – rather it was as though the room had gone entirely airless.
“Although I regret that we would be of little help to your father’s efforts.”
Mareda didn’t miss a beat.
“Oh dear, that’s a shame,” she said, cocking her head to one side. Threads of pale gold shimmered in her hair at the movement, a halo around her head. This was what she wanted, he thought. Golden Princess Mareda, an angel in mortal form. Which, he supposed, made him the gilled demon from the depths of the Laune. “You’re sure there’snoonewho could lend a hand?”
Adeline’s growl came again, from the other end of the table.
Stop, he pleaded with her mentally. Because every reaction from Adeline seemed to bolster Mareda somehow, brightened her eyes and pulled her proud chin higher.
But Adeline couldn’t hear his thoughts. She went on: “There are plenty of Merrow lending a hand, Mareda. They’re working in the mountains, serving in the Gard –”
Someone - perhaps Silas - hushed Adeline, and coaxed her back from where she’d been leaning with her hands flat against the table and her shoulders squared.
