To Kill a God by C.S. Wilde

Chapter 9

Mera wokeup in a familiar place.

She lay inside a hole carved into the stone wall of a living room; a hole her people called a pod. Many sea creatures buried themselves in sand or hid in underwater caves to rest, and waterbreakers weren’t any different.

Tiny specks of glowing yellow algae on the pod’s ceiling shed a dim light on her, almost as if Mera was staring at a starry sky.

An old waterbreaker with hair tied in a high bun—a reminder of his time in the military, since all male soldiers fixed their hair that way—sat beside her on the pod’s edge. He wore a skintight white bodysuit with silver engravings that resembled buttons on the side of a jacket, and a silver belt wrapped around his waist.

Maybe Mera was seeing things, but she could swear there was an empty gun holster attached to the left side of his belt.

Tears pricked her eyes. Truth be told, she’d never understood why waterbreakers cried. A remembrance from their human forms, she supposed.

“You’re here.” Her tone came out weak, broken. “You’re really here.”

She’d dreamt of this encounter for so long, endlessly hoping one day it would come true. Even now that it had, she still wondered if she might be dreaming.

With a sweet smile, he took Mera’s hand and pressed it against his chest. “We meet again, little fry. Lie still, I’m almost done.”

Only then did Mera notice the glittering wisps of light that flowed from his cobalt palm into her light-gray skin.

He was healing her.

Glancing down at her clothes, she noticed her white shirt fluttered slightly atop her torso, her jeans clinging to her skin. Somehow, she’d lost her leather jacket, which sucked above all else because it was Mera’s favorite piece of clothing—a gift from Ruth when she’d graduated from the police academy.

“I’ve arranged for an alternative,” Professor Currenter offered, seeming to have read her mind.

He nodded to a carving that rose from the living room’s stone floor, shaping a round table. A black, scaled bodysuit hovered atop it, just inches from the surface.

“Thank you,” she said, just as her attention drifted to the mouth of the cave.

A glittering city spread outside, circling a silver castle that seemed to stretch toward the surface. The underwater metropolis appeared to be protected by a nearly invisible energy dome, one that occasionally sparkled light blue. A round sphere beamed from high above, drenching the city in a soft glow similar to the moon’s. However, with the profusion of neon, rainbow-colored lights blinking everywhere down below, the sphere seemed a bit unnecessary.

“Is that…?”

He nodded.

Atlantea.How much it had changed!

Her attention returned to him, her jaw hanging in shock. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much to tell the professor, but she only managed to notice the obvious. “You haven’t aged.”

He looked old, of course, but he’d also looked old fifteen years ago. It was almost as if time had stopped moving for him.

“I have aged, dear, just not enough for you to notice.” Once he was done healing her, he tapped her arm. “Time flows differently for me.” As if that explained it, he turned around and broke water toward the center of the room, a silent sign that he wouldn’t dwell on the topic.

Mera sat up, her legs going over the edge of the pod. Waving to the cave, she smiled. “Well, at least nothing changed in here.”

Most Atlantean homes had smooth curved walls of the brightest colors, thanks to luminescent technology within the paint. The ample, colorful spaces could often be peppered with repurposed corals, which were the base material for furniture and many appliances—such as ovens that worked on lava, fridges, and even cutlery. All of that had been normal back when Mera was a merling.

The professor, however, enjoyed sticking to older ways that seemed long forgotten. The only modern thing in his living room was the standing mirror at the edge of the space, which faced Mera, but even that couldn’t be considered exactly modern.

Her reflection stared back at her with beady green eyes. Her nose was smaller than she’d grown accustomed to on land, and thin, nearly non-existent lips coated her mouth. Her russet hair hung heavier and fuller than usual, since minuscule red scales coated each thread.

The last time she had seen her reflection in that mirror, she’d been a child about to battle her own mother to death.

“You sound like your uncle Barrimond,” the professor pointed out. “I’m fine here. An old home is perfect for an old seal such as myself, don’t you think?”

The fins rising from her earlobes poked through her red mane, twitching slightly as she scanned the space. “I like it. Always have.”

He floated ahead, even if bodies didn’t float easily that deep. “So much has happened, little fry. Where to start?”

“Maybe with how I’m here?”

“That’s fairly easy. First, you must have noticed my attire.” He motioned to his white bodysuit with a certain pride. “When your uncle became king, he named me commissioner of Atlantea.”

Mera nearly gasped, even if she couldn’t gasp underwater. “Commissioner? But you’re a teacher!”

“A teacher with military experience.” The gills on his neck inhaled a batch of water, then quickly let it out in a move similar to a sigh. “Not my preferred profession, I’ll admit, but the king needed me, so a commissioner I became.”

A commissioner implied the existence of a police force. “What happened to the queen’s guard?”

“Still active, but the guard protects solely the king. They’re not allowed to make arrests or go on investigations. That’s the police department’s job. You’ll soon notice we’re a quite democratic government, despite being a monarchy.”

A smile spread on her lips.

“As to why you’re here.” The professor swam in circles, hands behind his back. “Our intelligence informed me that Poseidon had a magic enhancer. Shortly after, the bastard created a tidal wave, so we knew he would focus on land. We also knew he would be weaker after the attack.”

“So, you let him go ahead,” she countered bitterly. “Even though it would cost thousands of landrider lives.”

“We didn’t let him. The distance between Atlantea and Tagrad is considerable. We would never have reached him in time to stop his attack. And even if we could, the moment we entered the forbidden zone we would be turned to dust.” He shook his head, a certain sadness and regret in his eyes. “Not that we could have stopped him, mind you. We’re not as powerful as you are, little fry.”

Some of the tension left Mera’s shoulders. At least they hadn’t chosen to let landriders die. “You assumed I would do the job, then?”

“Not at all. I should have, of course.” He swam closer and cupped her cheek. “Sacrificing yourself for others is in your nature. I’m so very proud.” Taking a shuddering breath through his gills, he turned away. “In any case, Belinda and I would only be able to intercept him on his way back, once he left the forbidden zone. Waiting was our only option.”

“Belinda?” Mera’s heart jumped from zero to sixty in a second, and she rose from the pod, too excited to sit still. “As in my best friend, Belinda?”

“Quite right. She’s one of my most trusted officers.”

“She’s in the force? So am I!”

“I assumed that was the case when I contacted you through that seer. You work with a nightling, correct?”

“I do.” Mera would eventually tell him about her adventures on land, but she still had much to learn about what happened underwater. “When you communicated with me through Madam Zukova, you told me to never come back. Was it because you feared Azinor might catch me?”

He nodded. “A moot point, wasn’t it?”

Watching the landscape from the mouth of the cave, Mera scratched the back of her neck. Oval-shaped vehicles with glassed surfaces zinged by like tiny fish with translucent skin, but some of her people still rode orcas or giant mantas like she remembered. When the vehicles’ headlights beamed past her gray skin, her hide edged toward the colors of the rainbow.

“It was just you and Belinda?” She turned back to him. “You should have taken as many patrols as you could. He’s too powerful.”

“I agree, but Poseidon—as he’s known on the streets—has many followers. I couldn’t risk a leak. So we took a car and two other officers I trust. Now, don’t you deem that to be lacking. It’s been many moons since I’ve last been active, but this old seal still has a trick or two up his sleeve.” He winked at her.

The image of Azinor’s head vanishing in a cloud of blood flashed in her mind. Well, the professor certainly knew what he was doing.

Waterbreaking herself forward, she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m glad you’re okay. You, Belinda, my uncle… you are okay, right?”

“We are.” He hugged her back, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Your uncle is a great king. We’ve made remarkable advancements thanks to him, not only on a technological level. We’re also a fairer society. I’ve always figured you’d like to hear that.”

Uncle Barrimond had protected Mera from several beatings, standing between her and the queen when she was little. He would also sneak sweets to her when Mother wasn’t watching, and he would tell her wonderful stories about brave warriors who once fought for Atlantea.

“With pride and honor, they fought for glory,”he used to say. Words fitting a king.

“But?” she asked, swimming back a little. There was always a ‘but.’

The professor clicked his tongue, making a croaking sound akin to a dolphin’s. He always did that when he was nervous.

“Your uncle refused to conquer Tagrad, even if we could easily win a war with our technology. That made him fairly unpopular among certain groups, the same groups that used to support your mother.” The professor watched her through mournful pink irises. “Poseidon saw that as an opportunity. He has been wreaking havoc around the kingdom for almost a year now, turning many of our people to his side. Atlanteans have always worshipped the God of the Sea, so his ‘legend’ certainly didn’t help. Too many see him as a deity risen from the trenches, not a maniac who happens to be immortal.”

“How can Atlanteans believe he’s a God?” she asked bitterly. “He’s just a psychotic asshole who took Ariella against her will.”

Shock rippled across Professor Currenter’s face. “She always called you Daughter of Poseidon. I thought she was going mad…” His hand cupped his forehead, eyes growing wide. “By the darkest depths of the trenches, does this mean you’re his—”

Mera nodded, a sour taste trickling down her throat.

“Oh, my dear princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Though, it wasn’t. It never would be until she put ‘father of the year’ six feet under.

The professor suddenly trapped her in a nearly suffocating hug, but Mera wouldn’t complain. How she’d missed him…

“You’re the strongest merling in the seven seas, you know that?”

She chuckled. “I’m not a merling anymore.”

“You’ll always be a merling to me.” He lifted her chin slightly. “The king has asked to speak to you. Perhaps on the way, you’ll tell me about your adventures in the world above?”

* * *

The black bodysuitthe professor had given her fit Mera perfectly. The fabric didn’t cling to her shape as much as she remembered. If anything, it felt light and easy to wear, almost like a second skin. It even had small pockets near her torso and hips, though she couldn’t fit much inside them.

As she followed her old mentor through the castle’s halls, she couldn’t help but feel puzzled.

Everythinghad changed.

When she was a merling, Mera had hated the palace’s gloomy and empty stone rooms. She’d hated the shiny silver that coated its façade, a veneer of beauty that hid the rotten decadence within it.

Memories came to mind, impressions of silent servants, endless beatings, and her own screams sinking into the stone walls; the eternal reminders of the horrors she’d experienced there.

She’d always wondered if the palace’s harsh, cold halls had been built that way to mirror her misery, but it was wishful thinking, of course. Mera had never been that important to the queen.

To her surprise, however, Uncle Barrimond changed every inch of the place. He might as well have demolished the entire palace and rebuilt it from scratch.

A white and pearly surface now covered every wall and floor. The glowing yellow corals attached to the baseboards gave the space a warm, welcoming aura. Tiny golden orbs floated near the arched ceilings, as if thousands of fireflies lit the palace with their glow.

The wisps of light reminded Mera of Lunor Insul, and her heart shrunk to a dot. She couldn’t feel Bast through their bond, nor through their mind-link, thanks to the distance between them.

“Is there a way to contact the surface?” she asked casually while the professor led her through the bright and polished halls.

“I’m afraid not. We can’t hack their networks since they’re built on completely different materials than ours.” He seemed to consider it twice. “We could find the old sea-witch, Ursula, later and ask her to send a message to your psychic friend, if that helps?”

Mera had no clue if Madam Zukova was still in Tir Na Nog, let alone alive after the tidal wave, but she didn’t have another option.

Professor Currenter turned left, leading her to an indoor garden. The fake moon shone brightly up above, shedding light into the open square.

Corals of all colors, shapes, and sizes spread around the garden, matching the fluttering algae that danced gently against the currents. Schools of colorful fish swam in large groups, twirling around a silver statue at the center of the space.

The professor swam toward it, floating right above the bright and colorful corals. Mera followed after him, scaring away the small fishes in her path.

The statue depicted a merling who looked strangely familiar. She seemed proud, defiant even, with brave and feral eyes that caught Mera’s attention. The merling couldn’t be older than thirteen, but she was dressed for battle, with war corals too big for her tiny frame and a triton that was twice her size. She seemed so small, so scrawny, yet so fierce.

“It’s me,” she whispered, a mellow sensation knotting in her throat.

“Your uncle and I built it after you left. We wanted to honor you in our own way.”

Mera bent down to read the inscription on a square plate under the girl’s feet.

“Princess Mera Wavestorm, freer of her people.

With pride. With honor.”

She’d promised herself to never cry again within those walls, but right then, it was a promise too hard to keep.

“With pride. With honor,” she croaked. “Like in the stories Uncle Barrimond used to tell me.”

“You remember?” A heavy, familiar voice asked from behind them.

Mera turned to see none other than her uncle, standing under an arch that led inside the castle.

The same wide smile she’d missed graced his lips, the same kind, beady brown eyes and hair, the same caramel skin. He looked nothing like his cruel sister, a luck Mera didn’t have—she was Mother’s spitting image.

Uncle Barrimond looked absolutely regal in his white bodysuit with golden embroidery, and a golden crown around his head. Once he opened his arms to her, Mera couldn’t help but rush toward him.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he confessed, squeezing her as fiercely as the professor had a few hours ago. “When Harold told me you were alive, I could hardly believe it.”

Harold?

Since when did her uncle call the professor by his name? Harold was like a father to Mera, and still, she would always call him Professor. Force of habit, she supposed.

“You erased the queen from this place,” Mera noted quietly, her cheek pressed against his strong, bulky chest. “Thank you, Uncle.” She floated away to find him wincing, as if he was about to cry.

“The things she did to you… I wanted her gone from here, but not you.” He pointed to the statue. “You had to stay.”

“You did a fine job, my king,” Professor Currenter bowed his head at him. “Now, the rightful heir has returned.”

“Oh, no.” Mera shook her head. “I’m not an heir.”

“But you are a princess, my dear,” her uncle countered. “The laws at the time you left were ghastly, but I’ve implemented many changes. You’re safe now, and you will face no repercussions for taking your mother’s life. You’re the rightful queen, Mera, and I will be happy to abdicate the throne for you.” Uncle Barrimond swam closer to her old mentor. “Having said that, I would be glad to help you run things from behind the algae-curtains, if you deem it necessary.”

“Uncle, please. I won’t entertain this idea.”

“But you must. If not now, eventually. I don’t have any descendants.” He gave the professor a mournful glance. “You’re bound to become ruler, one way or another, my dear.”

Reluctancy grew inside her, and Mera bit her thin lower lip. “The thing is, I haven’t been a princess for a while now. I’m much happier being an officer of the law, like my mom before me.”

Her uncle seemed confused. “My sister was never in law enforcement.”

“She doesn’t mean Queen Wavestorm,” Professor Currenter explained. “She means her real mother, the human who raised her. Ruth Maurea, was it?”

Mera nodded.

Uncle Barrimond blinked, still seeming confused. “I suppose there’s much you have to tell me.”

“She will. At dinner tonight,” the professor answered for her. “But first, I should escort the princess to the dungeons. I need her help with an interrogation.”

A weary sigh left the king. “Are you certain this is the right time, Harold? She only just returned.”

“There will never be a right time, my king.”

“The dungeons?” Mera frowned. “Who are we supposed to interrogate?”

The professor clicked his tongue, never looking her in the eye. “The queen, little fry. I think you should see her.”