House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

“Yeah—definitely get some rest.” He grimaced, surveying her. “I’m, ah, a medic here. I was on the team that brought you in, actually. I’m glad to see you’re back on your feet.”

She nodded, unsure what to say.

Renki went on, “Davit captains one of the submersible-pods that runs recon, so he’s occasionally away for days or weeks at a time—sometimes it’s just me and the boys.” He added, “Well, me, and both sets of our parents, who help out a lot. They adore the boys.”

Grandparents. Something the boys wouldn’t have had otherwise.

“Do you have siblings?” she asked the male.

Renki nodded. “I have two brothers, and Davit has a sister. So there are lots of cousins running around. The boys grew up in a veritable pack of them.”

She smiled slightly. “Was it hard for them to live here without being mer?”

“At times,” Renki said. “When they were toddlers, they didn’t get why they couldn’t just jump into the water with the other kids. There were lots of tantrums. Especially from Brann.” A soft, loving laugh. “But Actaeon’s a bit of a genius. He devised helmets and fins for them to use so they can keep up with the others. Even in the depths.”

Pride bloomed in her chest. “Is that why you call him Ace?”

Renki grinned. “Yeah. He’s been taking things apart and putting them back together into something smarter and cooler since he was a baby.”

“I remember that,” she said softly. “He’d always pull apart every toy I gave him …” She cut herself off.

But Renki’s smile remained. “Still does. It’s the one downside to living on this ship. Director Kagani gets the best teachers she can, but we’re limited in what kind of higher ed we can offer him.”

“And Brann?”

Renki let out a laugh. “Brann is … Well, he’s a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of guy. A natural athlete—fearless. Quick to anger, and quick to laugh. He does okay in school, but right now, he’s more interested in hanging out with his buddies. He’s the stereotypical jock. We’re both content to let him be who he is.”

“They’re like the sun and moon, then,” she said quietly.

Renki’s smile softened. “Yeah. Exactly.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “This has my contact information, in case you need anything. If you want to chat with me, or Davit, or have any questions …”

Lidia took his card, nodding her gratitude, unable to find words.

Renki said, “Ace might have said some … not-nice stuff in there, but don’t for one moment think that he hasn’t been wondering about you all this time. The two of them have some foggy memories of you, I think. Director Kagani says they were too young at the time, but I swear they do. They told me once that you had hair like Brann’s and eyes like Ace’s. Since they never learned who you were until today, I’m going to finally believe them.”

“You’re very kind for saying that.”

Renki held her stare, sorrow and something else in his gaze. “I’ll work on Ace for you. But for now, give him time.”

She bowed her head. “Thank you.”

She didn’t trust herself to say more before she turned away, walking down the hall.

Lidia had nearly reached the stairwell, nearly tamped down the tears threatening to rise within her, when hurrying feet scuffed behind her. She slowed her pace, and stopped before the stairwell door, not opening it.

Only when the messenger extended a folded piece of kelp to her did Lidia turn.

The messenger, a young mer male who regarded her with a mix of curiosity and wariness, announced, “From Her Depthless Majesty,” before stepping aside to wait for a response.

Lidia unfolded the broad, flat kelp leaf. She read what was within, then nodded to the messenger. “I’ll go right to her.”

She didn’t let herself look back at the hall, toward her sons behind the office door halfway down it, before walking into the stairwell. But as the door slammed behind her, it echoed through her entire being.

Five minutes later and ten floors down, Lidia found herself before the ruler of the seas. The Ocean Queen stood at a wall of windows overlooking the eternal dark of the deep ocean, her black hair floating around her as if she were indeed underwater.

It had been fifteen years since Lidia had last seen her. Last spoken to her.

As she had then, the Ocean Queen stood no taller than Lidia’s chest, but Lidia steeled her spine against the power that filled the room.

She’d spent decades enduring the Asteri’s presence. This female’s power, however mighty … she’d weather it, too. Maybe that was why the Ocean Queen had bothered with her in the first place, all those years ago: Lidia had been able to face her and not tremble.

“I heard you have been reunited with your young,” the Ocean Queen said without turning.

Lidia inclined her head anyway. “I thank Ogenas for such a gift.”

“I do not recall granting you leave to abandon your post.”

Lidia lifted her chin, keeping her breathing steady as the Ocean Queen slowly, slowly pivoted. Her eyes were black as the ocean outside.

The Ocean Queen went on, “I do not recall granting you leave to bring all these fugitives onto one of my city-ships.”