Weaving her small hands around each other quickly in an ancient, memorized pattern, Elandria braided her white hair. She tied a green ribbon around the end of the thick rope to keep it closed, and returned to the files that she had been asked to read through and authorize. She had been keeping to herself for days, unwilling to participate in the planning of Sionna’s funeral, or the main event. She was not ready to say goodbye. After trying nearly everything, she had finally found her own personal method of coping. It was unusual, but effective: she intended to completely ignore Sionna’s death. This would be accomplished by evading people as much as possible, throwing herself into political paperwork, and when all else failed, sleeping. Sleeping was particularly effective. Unfortunately, incessant interruptions from the busy palace kept dragging her out of her solitude and making her face the harsh light of day. She was seriously considering escaping to somewhere remote, like the private refuge of her sea-cow sanctuary, but she had promised Trevain that she would try to be strong. Adlivun needed her. Her husband needed her. It was very small compared to her sister’s responsibilities; all of Oceanus needed Aazuria. The least she could do was try to lighten the woman’s workload.
Elandria had been visited by her sister earlier, before Aazuria left for Atlantis. The steadfast queen had seemed strangely distant and distraught. Her usually emotionless and graceful features seemed weathered and weary. Elandria knew that her sister was saddened by Varia running away. For so long, Aazuria’s world had centered around her daughter. However, after escaping captivity, she had been overburdened with cleaning up the mess of the entire country, fighting a war, getting temporarily killed, and then uniting all the kingdoms of the world’s oceans. It was too much for one woman to bear. Yet Aazuria tried to be a good mother—even though she had been drowning in so many impossible new duties, Varia always remained her first priority, at the forefront of her mind. Elandria could see that her sister felt responsible for neglecting the young girl, and responsible for all the events that had chased Varia away. She also felt responsible for the conflict with the United States, and the events leading up to Sionna’s assassination. In short, Aazuria felt responsible for everything.
Elandria could see how deeply anguished her sister was over the loss of Sionna. She was sure that the funeral had been difficult, and grateful that she had not attended. She could see the toll that these public events took on Aazuria, and was relieved that she could hide in her bedroom, and contribute to administration from behind the scenes. Running the country was simply not for her.
I wish I could do more, Elandria thought to herself as she signed off on a paltry document about water pollution standards. But I am just a regular girl. I cannot be everywhere at once, and do everything at the same time. I cannot change the world every day, the way Aazuria and Visola do. Those two must fight three major battles before breakfast, just to get warmed up for their days. She smiled in thought of her sister and the general, but her smile was not without a shadow of serious underlying concern.
A shriek was heard not far away in the corridor, and Elandria rose to her feet nervously. She was frozen for a moment, as flashes of all the horrible things that had ever happened to her blazed across her mind. Her heart started pounding far too quickly. Pressing a hand against her chest, where the cruel organ was pumping hectically, she sucked in a quick, short breath. She remembered that her heart had been wounded once, and if not for Sionna’s magical handiwork, she would not be alive. Biting her lip, Elandria battled both fear and nostalgia. When another scream sounded, she shook her head to clear the thoughts, and ran to open her bedroom door to see who was in danger.
She was stunned to see a giant volley of fire blasting through the hallway. She felt the heat from the flames gusting against her face. Elandria stared in shock. She was reminded of the bomb that her father had strapped to her body not too long ago. She was reminded of the explosion that could have killed everyone she loved. Her heart pounded fiercely in fear, and she drew both of her hands against her middle, knowing how unprepared she was for whatever was happening. If only I was in the sea, she thought fleetingly. I could manipulate the waves with my voice. I can be strong with the water, but what can I possibly do with fire?
Elandria was startled out of her anxiety when she heard the laughter of children. The flames cleared, and she could see that they had originated from a very small person whose height was no taller than Elandria’s bellybutton. “Ivory?” She gasped, observing that the little girl was wearing a backpack consisting of two cylinders, and holding a long gun-nozzle in her tiny fist. She also saw that the flames were directed at a similarly small person who was screeching and scrambling away through the corridor, as fast as his little legs would carry him. With a giggle, Ivory triggered her weapon again, engulfing the entire hallway in a fiery blaze.
“Stop!” Elandria screamed. “Ivory! Stop that at once. Ivory Ramaris!” When the little girl finally heard the authoritative screams over the sound of her weapon, she immediately complied. Elandria moved in front of the weapon and placed her hands on her hips furiously. “Ivory! What on earth are you doing, young lady?”
Ivory looked at Elandria in puzzlement. “I’m trying to set my brother on fire,” she explained, as if it should be obvious.
Elandria blinked. “Why?”
“Because he lost his tooth,” Ivory said, with a pout. She lifted one hand and pointed at her brother. “Look!”
Turning around slightly, Elandria saw the little boy giving her a big smile and pointing at the gap where his tooth used to be.
“See!?” he said with excitement. “It’s really gone!”
Elandria shook her head in confusion. “I… I don’t understand. What is going on?”
“He’s running away from me,” Ivory explained again, gesturing to the flamethrower on her back, “because I’m trying to set him on fire.”
“Sweet Sedna,” Elandria said, rolling her eyes downward as if looking to the bottom of the sea to ask the goddess herself for help. She turned back to the clueless child. “Ivory… that’s not a good idea.”
“But it’s so much fun!” Ivory protested.
“Darling, you need to stop playing with the flamethrower. Now. Someone could get seriously hurt.” Elandria spoke with the same voice she used long ago, when she had been a schoolteacher to the children. Back when she was the Queen of Adlivun, before she had been banished to study with the Sisters of Sedna—she had given the royal children some basic lessons on a regular basis. Unfortunately, Ivory and Ronan had not been born back then, and they were not likely to recognize Elandria as an authority figure. She had only just returned to the palace, and the children barely knew her.
Ivory seemed very unhappy. “But Mama said we could play…”
“Your mother’s not here right now,” Elandria said sharply. “That means I’m in charge. And I forbid you from hurting your brother. Hand me the flamethrower.”
“Yes, Auntie Elan,” Ivory said sullenly. She moved forward and took the cylinders off her back, handing the weapon to the white-haired woman.
Elandria took the contraption, and was surprised to discover how heavy the flamethrower was. She nearly dropped it in surprise. She looked down at little Ivory with wide eyes. Can it be that a five-year-old is stronger than I am? Observing the child’s messy red hair, and familiar jawline, Elandria softened. She was her mother’s daughter, so nothing Ivory did should be a wonder.
Ronan saw that his sister was upset with having her game interrupted. He immediately ran to her side and gave his twin a big hug. “She never really meant to hurt me!” Ronan told Elandria defensively, as if she were on trial for a great crime. “We were just playing, I promise! Mommy said it was okay before—before she went away.”
This touching scene caused Elandria’s heart to ache further. She remembered centuries of Visola and Sionna being at each other’s throats. It all came rushing back, and her unwilling mind was filled with yearning for the sweetness and safety of the past. It seemed impossible to imagine that they would never all be together again, laughing and joking around, and being ridiculous and silly. The twin sisters had never been shy to throw verbal or even physical barbs at each other, but each insult had been laced with clear affection. The limitless love the Ramaris twins had for each other shone through all of their games, mockery, and abuse. They had shared a sacred psychic connection that Elandria could never hope to have with Aazuria, and it was obvious that these tiny tykes felt the same. Sighing, and fighting back tears, Elandria put the flamethrower aside and lowered herself to her knees.
Placing her hands gently on Ronan and Ivory’s shoulders, she gazed into the faces of the children. “Where is your father?” she asked.
“Daddy got sick and he went to see the doctor,” Ivory explained, lowering her chin and grabbing her brother’s hand for comfort.
“Vachlan is ill?” Elandria asked with worry.
“He says it hurts here,” Ronan said, pointing at his forehead, “and Dr. Rosenberg is a doctor for the insides of your brain. He’s making Daddy better.”
Elandria nodded thoughtfully. “Who gave you kids the flamethrower?”
“There was a fat man,” Ivory said. “The castle guard? Rolf. We told him that mommy said it was okay, and he got it for us.”
Lifting her eyebrows, Elandria groaned. “Rolf. I have heard his name spoken around here. I cannot believe he hasn’t been fired yet.”
“Hey! He’s really nice!” Ronan said quickly. “He’s my friend. Besides, he gave us the safe kind of flamethrower. It uses gas instead of liquid. That’s safe for kids, right?”
Elandria moved a hand to touch her forehead in exasperation. “There is no kind of safe flamethrower. Military weapons are not meant to be used as children’s toys.”
“But…”
“Honey, our palace is made of ice,” Elandria said, gesturing around. “You’re going to melt our house to the ground. Look, you’ve burned the carpets and tapestries. And our imported flowers!” She sighed. “Please promise me that you won’t play with anything dangerous unless you have the supervision of a family member—and unless it’s outdoors.”
“Yes, Auntie Elan,” the twins said dutifully.
Elandria knew that there was no way they would follow her instructions for very long. The little troublemakers would require lots of attention to keep them safe. She closed her eyes. But with Sionna and Visola gone, and Vachlan sick, did they have any family members they could turn to?
“There they are!” said a voice from the other end of the hallway. Elandria looked up to see Brynne marching toward them angrily. “I was taking my daughter to the library with Kaito. While Princess Yamako is away, I’m watching her son. I figured I would take care of these two brats as well, but they keep running away from me!”
Elandria gave the twins a stern look of disappointment. “You both will have to stay with Auntie Brynne, okay? Listen to her and follow her instructions.”
“But Kaito doesn’t want to play with me anymore,” Ivory complained.
“We’ll talk to him and figure it out,” Brynne said, taking the twins by their hands and guiding them away. “Sorry, Elan. I’ll keep them out of your hair.”
“It’s okay,” Elandria said weakly, glancing at the flamethrower. Only then did she consider the small size of the weapon. It did seem like it was specifically made for a child’s body. Frowning, she picked it up and turned it over, and found Ivory’s name engraved on the metal cylinder. “Sedna save me,” Elandria groaned.
“What do you need saving from today?” asked a deep male voice from the hallway.
Elandria looked up, and seeing Trevain, rose to her feet abruptly. She dropped the flamethrower, and it clattered to the ground noisily. She stooped to pick it up, but Trevain had moved forward and was taking it from her hands. His fingers rested on hers for far too long, and she pulled away nervously.
“Ivory was trying to kill her brother,” Elandria informed him. She backed away from him slowly, somehow more afraid of his proximity than the gust of fire that had come out of the weapon earlier.
“Ah. I remember this,” Trevain said as he inspected the cylinders. “Grandma ordered this for the kids a while ago, as a present. I guess… she didn’t know that she wouldn’t be around to instruct them on its usage.”
“What was she thinking?” Elandria asked. “Why would anyone buy that for her children?”
Trevain smiled. “You’re forgetting that these are Vachlan and Visola’s kids we’re talking about. They got them pet sharks to toughen them up. Ivory’s already been shot and she didn’t even cry.”
Elandria sighed. She grasped the doorframe for support, torn between ducking into her room and closing the door, and talking to Trevain for a few seconds longer. She glanced down at his strong hands, as they gripped the sections of the flamethrower. He seemed to have no trouble with the weight of the weapon. She stared at the wedding ring on his finger, and felt her vision going out of focus as she grew lost in her own thoughts. “Remind me why we never had any children?” she murmured.
His smile disappeared. He looked to the west, as if he was examining a slideshow of the past. “At the time, I was afraid that if you got pregnant, we would have been overjoyed. We would have spent tons of time discussing potential names for a boy or a girl, and we would have decorated a nursery. Aunt Sio would have gotten us ultrasound pictures. You might have been pregnant around the same time as my grandmother, so you two could have bonded while complaining. We would have forced the poor child to listen to horrible classical music through your stomach. You would have done yoga and taken lots of vitamins, and then someone would have inevitably abducted and murdered you like I believed they had done to my first wife.”
“That was good reasoning,” Elandria said with a nod. “I am sure they would have, with our luck.” She was silent for a moment. “I do not think I possess Aazuria’s talent for coming back from the dead.”
“Sure you do,” he told her. “Survival is a trait that runs in the family. You survived everything your father put you through, when lesser women would have crumbled. You survived Mother Melusina’s creepy religious bootcamp, even though she starved you half to death. You survived an arrow to the heart a few years ago, didn’t you?”
Elandria nodded, glancing down at her chest. “It still bothers me—I still get pains there. But I don’t think it’s due to the injury, and certainly not due to Sionna’s surgery being substandard. I think I’m just naturally weak-hearted. I keep thinking that one day soon, my heart is just going to stop. It’s just going to give up and stop trying so hard to keep me standing.”
“Someday, that’s going to happen to all of us,” he told her, moving closer. He placed his large hand on her arm, encircling most of her small bicep. “But I’m not going to let it happen to you anytime soon. I’m going to stay close to you, and keep your heart safe and strong.”
Elandria bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She knew that she should have run back into her room and shut the door. Being near to Trevain brought all her emotions bubbling up to the surface. She could not help being honest around him, and trying to face the things that she could not face alone. But this time, it was too much. Sionna was dead. She could not talk about it, and she could not think about it. She could not mention the woman’s name in casual conversation, as though nothing had happened. There was nothing she could do that did not make this worse. The gentleness in Trevain’s touch, and his kind and concerned eyes made it worse, too.
“Oh, Trevain,” she said softly. “I’m not built for this world. I can’t bear any more of this. First Corallyn, then Alcyone… everything that happened to Zuri. And now Sionna. Why are we cursed? Why does this keep happening?”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
She could no longer maintain her composure. “I need to go,” she whispered, pulling away and slipping into her room. She closed the door between them, and looked back to her desk where the stack of paperwork awaited her. She was somehow no longer in the mood to sign documents. She was no longer capable. She moved over to the bed, and allowed her body to tumble down into the soft collection of furs. They held her, comforting and enveloping her body in a luxurious way. She tried to calm her breathing, and her racing heart, and go back to forgetting.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door, interrupting her mental exercise.
Wrapping the furs closer around her shoulders, Elandria tried to ignore the world outside her head, and seek a peaceful place in her soul where no one could find her. She tried to go to sleep, her own personal form of therapy. Sometimes, in her dreams, Sionna was alive. Everyone she had lost was still alive, and happy.
The knock sounded on her door again, a little more forcefully.
Elandria stared at the mountain of paperwork on her desk, feeling guilty for procrastinating with her duties. She just felt so useless and small. Their world had grown so large, so quickly, and she was not sure how to survive in this place anymore. She was not sure how to continue pushing forward, toward some perfect, idealized goal of the way life should be, if it would cost so much to get there.
She heard her door open, and footsteps on her carpet. She felt someone move into the bed with her and slip an arm around her waist, hugging her close. His warmth seeped through the furs, and into her own body, creating a healing and somewhat soothing effect. All her anxiety, and the pain in her heart, seemed to instantly dissipate. She did not feel completely better, but she felt a great deal more at ease.
“Elandria,” Trevain said quietly, his breath dancing against the back of her neck. “Why weren’t you at the funeral?”
She bit her lip in shame. “Because… I am trying to pretend it’s not real.”
Trevain considered this for a few seconds. “I was hoping that you would say a few words to honor her memory. None of us really knew what to say. You really have a gift for finding the right words in a rough time. No one can give a speech the way you can—that is, when you feel like speaking.”
She smiled weakly at his praise. “I know that denial is not a very mature way of dealing with demise, but I see no harm in keeping my friend perfectly alive and well in my thoughts.”
“If you must,” he told her. “Do whatever you feel you need to do. But when you’re ready—just know that I’m here for you.”
“What did Zuri say?” Elandria asked.
Trevain drew a ragged breath. “She may be dust in the sea, but what she did will never die.” His voice wavered as he repeated the words. “We’ve gotten through so much together, Elan. This is just one more heartache. Just one more disaster to add to the gigantic list of disasters we’ve endured.”
“This is the last disaster,” Elandria said harshly.
Trevain seemed confused by this. “The last?”
“Yes,” she said. “This is the last disaster, because it changes everything. It is the beginning of the greatest disaster we’ve ever known. The whole world is going to pay for this. Every square inch of every country—every drop of water.”
“The world is a very big place, Elan…”
“Visola is bigger,” she responded ominously. “She’s so much bigger. The world is a horrible place, and it deserves whatever happens. It deserves whatever comes next, and worse.”
Trevain did not respond immediately. “You don’t sound like yourself right now, Elan. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Rosenberg. He’s doing grief counseling…”
Elandria made a sound of disbelief. “Have you seen Dr. Rosenberg lately? The poor man was holding the love of his life in his arms when the CIA shot her in the head. He immediately tried to shoot himself in the head, but Vachlan knocked the gun out of his hands. This is the man whom you think can help me?”
Releasing a deep sigh, Trevain moved away from Elandria. He laid on his back and looked up thoughtfully. “I’m just trying… to do something. To move forward.”
Missing his warmth, Elandria turned over to face him. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, deeply inhaling his masculine scent. She placed a hand on his chest, and instantly felt stronger. She felt like she was sucking the strength and love out of his body, but he somehow had an unlimited amount to give.
“I gave Aazuria divorce papers,” Trevain said finally.
Elandria gasped and bolted upright. “How could you? And now?”
“I want you to stop being ashamed of being with me,” Trevain told her.
“You idiot!” Elandria said angrily. “You’ll break her heart!”
“Something had to be done, Elandria. A choice had to be made.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Aazuria needs you just as much as I do. Just because she’s tough doesn’t mean you can hurt her like this. When she’s already going through so much!”
“But Elan…”
“Is this pity?” she asked bitterly. “Are you doing this to her instead of me because you know she can handle it? And I couldn’t?”
“Why are you always so suspicious of everything I do?” he asked her with a frown, sitting up to look into her face. “I’m not doing this because I pity you. I’m doing this because I love you. I’m choosing you, because I think we’re better together.”
“Oh, please,” Elandria said with a nervous laugh. “You can’t actually mean that.”
“I tried to make it work with Zuri,” Trevain told her, taking her hands. “I tried so hard, for so long. I tried everything. But with you, it’s just easy. I feel like it’s not one-sided. I feel like you want to be with me just as much as I want to be with you.” He chewed his lip thoughtfully as he tried to find a way to explain himself.
“Loving your sister is like sitting at the feet of a statue of a great goddess. She is ten feet tall and cold as stone, and I’m always in her shadow. I’m always small and insufficient. I’m just a man, made of flesh and blood, but she’s so much more than that.” Trevain smiled sadly. “I begged. I waited. I tried to chisel away the marble and get to the woman underneath… but she just shut down, and closed herself off to me. What more can I do, Elan?”
Considering his description for a moment, Elandria’s lips curved in a small smile. “You’re right. She is like that. Let’s build a statue for her. Let’s put it somewhere prominent, like at the airport—it would be the first thing she sees when she comes home. She’ll freak out.”
Trevain chuckled to himself. “I like the way you think. She’ll be so pissed—if she hasn’t signed the divorce papers by then, she will after she sees the statue.”
“We can claim innocence,” Elandria said happily. “Oh my goodness, why haven’t we thought of this before? She deserves a statue! And... and so does Sionna.” Her smile disappeared. “We could put it in front of the hospital.”
They were both quiet for a moment. “I think everyone will love that idea,” Trevain finally said. “A beautiful statue of Aunt Sio in her classic lab coat.”
“I will not be able to go to the hospital without dissolving into tears at the sight of her,” Elandria said softly.
“That’s fine,” he said with a sly smile. “If you get pregnant, you can just deliver at home.”
“Pregnant?” she asked in surprise. “How would that happen?”
“I can show you how,” he said, playfully pushing her back down onto her furs. He climbed over her and placed a kiss on the side of her neck. “I could be a little… careless.”
“Trevain—I didn’t mean—earlier…” Elandria’s eyes darted around in a panic before settling back on his face. Her breathing quickened. “I was just asking about the past. Reflecting. I didn’t mean that I was considering—for the future—I just…” She tried very hard to form coherent sentences. “How would that look? The ink hasn’t even dried on your divorce documents—if she even decides to sign. Divorce is not something that my people do—it is extremely shameful. And you already have a daughter, but she’s missing! Should we take care of all that first? I have to think about this. I have to prepare. The past few years with Mother Melusina, I was barely eating. I might not even be healthy enough.”
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “I was just teasing you.”
She scowled at him. “That was unkind.”
“I couldn’t resist. You’re just so adorable when you get all flustered,” he told her, placing a light kiss on her nose.
“I was not flustered. Just concerned about your lapse in judgment. You are very young and very foolish sometimes, husband.” Smiling as she said this, she reached up and undid a button on his shirt.
“That’s why I surround myself with such wise women,” he responded. He began sliding the strap of her dress off her shoulder. “Where would I be without the fine guidance and worldly knowledge of you and your sister?”
Elandria made a face. She spoke under her breath. “You’re a pussy.”
Trevain’s eyes widened. “What did you just call me?”
“Nothing,” Elandria said, turning away with a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Elandria, I’m pretty sure I heard you say…”
“That’s right,” she said, glaring at him. “You’re not man enough to handle Aazuria. Don’t blame her for that.”
“I’m man enough to handle you,” he growled, slipping his hand under her dress.
“Are you?” she asked, tugging on his belt. “Show me.”