Since they had arrived in Adlivun, Alcyone had mainly stayed in the infirmary tending to Callder and helping Sionna out with the other wounded. Alcyone was happier and more alive than she had been in decades, even with the threat of impending war. The numbers of the injured had been growing until Sionna had enforced a strict curfew. No one was to venture outside of Adlivun until the threat had been cleared—excepting extenuating circumstances and only if approved by Aazuria herself or one of the twins.
Visola had concentrated all of her efforts on training and preparing Adlivun’s army for the worst case scenario. She even enlisted a civilian militia to inflate the numbers of the regular defense force in case they were needed. The volcanic caves of Adlivun extended in miles of labyrinths snaking through the bowels of the Aleutian Islands. It was a natural fortress where an endless supply of food was available to citizens. There were many safe refuges where the elderly, the pregnant, and the ill could stay to avoid any menace that might come. Visola organized everything to the best of her ability, but her worst fear was that her husband, Vachlan, was allied with the enemy troops. He knew Adlivun intimately, and he knew her and her battle strategies just as well. He had fought against her before, but never on her home turf.
Aazuria felt that her shoulder was showing great progress in healing after just a few nights in the hot springs. She would have felt physically rather rejuvenated by her home environment, as she always did after a brief sojourn on land, but the recent fight with Trevain still plagued her. She kept going over and over everything they had said to each other in her mind. She had not yet removed the ring he had given her. She could not accept that it was over.
Aazuria had been in Adlivun for a week when a messenger had showed up to inform them that Atargatis had accepted their terms. Corallyn’s vengeful mother intended to visit them peacefully to see Kyrosed’s body as proof of his death. If he had truly been killed, Atargatis said she would consider withdrawing from the area.
This was positive news, but Visola considered it suspicious. She told Aazuria to leave Adlivun and stay at Trevain’s house while Atargatis visited, just in case anything went wrong. Aazuria refused. At the persistent urging of Visola and Alcyone, however, she relented to the idea of paying Trevain a visit. Her sisters were still with him as well, and she used this as an excuse. If she was going to go up against Atargatis, she should kiss and hug her sisters goodbye in case anything happened. Visola said she would come along, for she had business to attend to on land.
Now, Aazuria stood outside Trevain’s door, her hair darkened with the sunlight. She stared at the door with great anxiety. She was more fearful of ringing his doorbell than she was of facing the woman who had thrown a javelin through her shoulder. Yet she knew she would do both, regardless of fear. She pressed the doorbell.
She expected Mr. Fiskel or one of the girls, but instead Trevain himself answered the door, almost instantly. Aazuria felt low. She was not accustomed to the feeling. It always seemed that the higher her elevation rose with respect to sea level, the lower her self-esteem sunk. Her pride hurt to return to a place where she had been told she was no longer welcome.
Perhaps Trevain was worth deserting her pride. She had forgotten how kind his eyes were. Now that she knew his lineage, she could see that he did resemble Visola and Alcyone—she imagined that the ladies must have flocked to him in masses when he had been a young redhead. They both looked at each other for a moment wordlessly. She wondered what he could be thinking. He broke the silence by moving forward and putting his arms around her.
“Aazuria, I was so worried. I’m so sorry for all those things I said, I didn’t mean a single word…”
She closed her eyes against his cotton shirt as she listened to his heartbeat against her ear. “I am sorry that I hit you and stole your car.”
“That’s some swing you’ve got there,” he said with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t have grabbed your arm if I knew you were hurt—but I shouldn’t have grabbed you at all. I’m so sorry…”
“It is in the past,” she said, pulling away from his hug. “May I see my sisters?”
“They’re not here,” he told her.
“Where are they?” she asked with a worried frown.
“I was under the impression that they had gone to see you.”
“What?” she exclaimed, her composure disappearing for the first time since he had answered the door. “No! They cannot come to Adlivun. They are safer here with you. Why did they leave? I need to go…” She turned around, looking out at the water.
“Aazuria, will you come in and sit down for a moment? You look like you’re about to run off again. Please…”
“I hope my sisters did not go home,” she said anxiously to herself. Then she realized she had been invited in to the house. She saw the desperate look on his face and she swallowed. “Yes, I will sit for a minute.”
He took her by the hand and led her over to the nearest sofa. “Zuri, I know I can’t unsay all the things I said… but will you give me a chance to fix things between us? I just want to get back to where we were before.”
“When you did not know who I was?” she asked bitterly.
“I still don’t know who you are,” he admitted, “but I still love you.”
She hesitated. “You really want things to be like they were before?” she asked. “You still… want to marry me?”
“Of course,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Elan and Coral have been telling me a little bit about Adlivun. I am trying to believe such a place exists, but it seems so outrageous. It feels like someone is playing a huge joke on me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So many people would not lie about the existence of a country,” she told him.
“Yes, but… they all say it’s underwater. I have a hard time imagining that.” He cleared his throat. “Were you really the woman I saw in the water the night that Arnav Hylas died?”
She nodded. “When you would not listen to me and stay home from work, I took two of my best warriors… incidentally, your grandmother and her sister, and we followed your boat to try and keep you safe. There were only three of us against thirty of the enemy, or else we would have been able to save Arnav…”
“I should have listened to you,” he said softly. He looked at Aazuria and frowned. “I just don’t understand—how can you be the woman from the water? You look so different…”
“You did not recognize my kiss?” she said with a small smile. “My name does not come from the ocean—it comes from the color of my eyes. They resemble the mineral azurite when I have been in the water for a while.”
“The water changes them?” he asked. “And your hair?”
“No,” she responded, knitting her brows. “Did my sisters not explain this? It is basically tanning; advanced tanning and blanching based on exposure to the sun. Not all sea-dwellers have this trait. Your grandmother always maintains her red hair, even in the deep sea.”
“I see.” His expression was thoughtful yet bewildered.
“I suppose it used to be an important adaptation, for the sake of our health. Having fair skin would have been necessary for deep water life, facilitating vitamin D absorption.”
“I can’t wrap my head around it,” he said honestly. “Those weeks that you said you were ill—that was because…”
Aazuria reached up and grasped the fabric of her dress at her neckline, pulling it off her shoulder to expose her scar.
“God, Aazuria!” he said, moving forward. “Why did you hide this from me? I could have taken care of you.”
She watched his reaction, and she could almost see him remembering what had happened in the water. He gently rubbed his thumb over her bare shoulder. Leaning forward, he pulled her close and embraced her again, kissing her forehead. “Thank you for trying to protect my crew.”
“Thank you for saving my life. If that spear had landed a few inches to the left we would have been unable to argue at all.”
“We would have been unable to do a lot of things,” he said with a smile as he gently rubbed her back.
She relaxed into his embrace. “The truth is that I was afraid you would not understand. Land-dwellers never understand. Trevain, I want you to know that your mother is happy now…”
“What do you mean?” he asked, pulling away from her suddenly.
“You do not know? You were not informed?” she asked.
“Informed of what, Aazuria? What did you do?” he asked frantically.
She looked into his face, and saw that he was about to grow angry with her again. She exhaled slowly, looking at her hands. She knew that the best thing she could possibly do was to get up and leave now before this escalated any further, but she somehow could not pull herself away. He deserved to know. “I took Alcyone from the mental hospital weeks ago. I took her home to Adlivun.”
Trevain closed his eyes and shook his head. “You kidnapped my mother?”
“Kidnapped? Trevain! You saw how unhappy she was. It was her choice to leave! She is an adult and she has rights.” Aazuria waited for his response, silently praying that he would understand this. She hoped that he would remember how passionately his mother hated the land and yearned for home.
“You took her out of the country. Without telling me.” He ran a hand through his grey hair in frustration. “How could you do this, Aazuria? Now I’ll never see her again. Now I have no clue where the hell she is, and whether she’s dead or alive!”
“Dead or alive?” she said slowly. “Good Sedna. You honestly think I would hurt your mother?”
“No, but…” He tried to regain his composure. “How do I know anything? You killed your own father, didn’t you? As far as I know, you’re capable of anything. You concealed so much from me—how do I know what is true and what isn’t?”
Her pride was crushed by his words. “You do not.” She tried to calm her racing pulse; her insides ached knowing what little faith he had in her. She was hovering on the fence between despair and wrath.
Trevain was glaring at her. “I can’t believe you took my mother from me!”
These words tipped her firmly off the fence and she landed on the side where she was welcomed by a rush of pure rage which brought her to her feet. “You did not even notice she was gone! You had not visited her in years! Some compassion you land-dwellers have for your elderly! She’s with her real family now.”
“Her real family?” Trevain asked, slowly. “Her real family?!”
“Yes—she is with those who will never leave her to be alone and scared in a despicable little room! She is with those who love her, and have faith in all that she says and does, regardless of how insane it seems.”
“Is that all?” he asked, getting up from the sofa and raising himself to his full height. He looked down at her angrily. “Are you finished insulting me?”
She saw the pain on his face, and imagined that he might feel the same way she did. “Trevain…”
“Why the hell did you come back here, Aazuria?” he asked her violently. “You said you would never come back.”
She nodded. “Yes. I apologize. I will go.” She looked down at his shoes, struggling to fight back her tears. “I just need to tell you one last thing.”
“What is it?” he asked, swallowing the saliva in his mouth. He did not really want her to leave, and he had no idea why he was being so cruel to her. He supposed that it was partly because his pride was hurt, and partly because he believed she was going to leave anyway, and he might as well pretend that it had been his decision.
“Do you remember when my cousin came with an urgent message and I had to go away for a few days?”
He nodded.
Aazuria took a deep breath. She expected the worst. She expected him to lash out at her. “When I got home, I saw that Callder was in the infirmary. He is alive, but barely alive. He is unconscious and being taken care of to the best of our ability—your mother is helping to tend to him now. He was stabbed in the chest with a harpoon, much like they tried to do to me…”
Trevain stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment. There was a long silence, and she dreaded what would happen when it ended. Finally, he spoke quietly. “My brother is alive? Callder is alive and you didn’t tell me?”
“I did not tell you because he may not live. He may no longer be alive now, for all I know. He is hanging on by a thread.”
“I don’t care, Aazuria! You know how much I suffered! You know how much I loved my brother!” Trevain was at the point of tears, and his voice was rising higher and higher in volume. “Anything you could have told me, any hope you could have given me, would have made a world of difference! How could you keep this from me?”
Her mouth was set in a grim line. “We considered moving him to a hospital on land, but the move surely would have killed him. He is being cared for in a special hot spring cave under the Aleutian Islands.”
He placed a hand on his head as he began to pace in small circles around the area he was standing. “God! What kind of person lets a man think his brother is dead? What kind of monster would pretend to be innocent when she has information which she knows will change his life for the better? I was dying inside every day, Aazuria! It was my little brother. I loved him more than anything—and you knew… all this time, you knew!”
“I thought it would hurt you more if you had to lose him twice,” she whispered. “I wished I could tell you, but our head doctor recommended that I should not.”
“Your head doctor? Let me guess, some charlatan that calls himself a shaman or something? Dammit, Aazuria. Where the fuck are you keeping Callder and my mother? This ‘Adlivun’ is not on any map or Atlas! For all I know it's some cult of crazy people...”
“How can you say such things?” she asked. “You promised me—that night I agreed to marry you. You promised that when the time came you would be open to a new concept which you currently consider impossible. If you want to see your family, why do you not come to Adlivun and verify its existence for yourself?”
“Because I’m an adult, and I don’t entertain children’s fantasies. You need to get Callder to a real hospital as soon as possible!” he yelled. “I will never forgive you for keeping this from me. You may be considered royalty in whatever Hicksville you’re from, but here, you’re just a person. You’re not above the law! You are just a woman; just a stripper I thought I would show some kindness to, and you’ve ruined my life!”
She took a step back, wounded by his harsh words. “I never meant to cause you harm…”
“You’ve taken away everything from me,” he told her. “Before I met you, I had a good job where I was respected. Now I can’t work because my whole crew is afraid of dying. You called yourself a human being—but this, whatever you’re involved with—you people are murderers and inhuman beasts!”
She nodded, trying to release all the pain and negative tension in her head. “I should not be surprised.” Her tone was nasty and abrasive. “A man who could forsake his mother should be easily able to forsake the woman he supposedly wished to marry.”
“Watch the way you speak to me, Aazuria!”
“Are you going to threaten me again? Go on. How do you want to hurt or control me this time? Inflict physical harm on me— and then tell me how I am the inhuman beast!”
“You’re the one who punched me in the face! I didn’t know your arm was hurt or I wouldn’t have been so rough. Corallyn told me to stop you from leaving because you might be in danger. So yes, I would hurt you again if it meant saving you from the dangers of whatever stupid underwater thing you have going on.”
Aazuria stared at him in wonder and disgust. “How can a man who is so intelligent in so many ways completely refuse to listen to reason?”
“What is reasonable about a submarine society of people who can breathe underwater?”
“Everything.” She clenched her fists. “You have seen enough proof, Trevain! The evidence is in your own body! How can you be so daft?”
“I know you can hold your breath for a really long time. I know you are a really strong swimmer. I know you have convinced a whole lot of people in some commune that they have some kind of special abilities and ancestry—some kind of complex delusion…”
“You are being such an American.” Grinding her teeth together, Aazuria turned and began to walk out of the house. “I will not stand here and be slighted.”
“We’re not finished speaking,” Trevain informed her angrily. “I am American—and you are from your own special country, right? I bet you have your own flag and everything?”
“It is malachite green with a golden triple moon symbol in the center,” she responded curtly. “But I will not suffer the shame of justifying our existence to you any longer. I concede defeat to your pigheadedness.” She dipped her body in the most sarcastic curtsy she had ever performed; it said farewell for her, and she resumed her retreat.
“Aazuria, stop. Please don’t go. I don’t want to fight with you like this.” He had moved to intercept her departure. He reached out hesitantly and placed his hands on her waist. “Just come home and stay with me—we were so happy for a moment and I would give anything to get back to that place and make it last.”
She closed her eyes, melting at his touch and gentle tone. She was eager to agree, throw her arms around him, and ask for forgiveness…
“Let’s forget all of this mermaid nonsense,” Trevain was saying. “Let’s not talk about all of this sea-kingdom crap and just…”
She stepped back, ripping her body out of his hands. The look on her face was simultaneously horrified and indignant. The redness of fury began to creep into her cheeks. “I do not understand why you will not believe me. I am not asking you to believe in some kind of intangible god. I am asking you to witness and accept that a nation of several thousand citizens exists. It is there. Men, women, children, and even their aquatic pets! Doctors, lawyers, masons, poets, singers, dancers, architects! All you have to do is see it for yourself, and instead you choose to stubbornly stick your head in the sand and remain oblivious!”
“Are there humans who can breathe sand too?” he asked harshly.
“Good Sedna. Your mother was not mentally ill, Trevain—but you are! You are willfully ignorant and utterly mad! We could have been together, but you refuse to…”
“Let you enlighten me with your watery wisdom? I’ve had enough of this bullshit, Aazuria.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “I am not sure why I wasted so much time here today,” she said softly. When she opened her eyes, they brimmed with tears. She quickly turned away to hide her emotion, moving away from him as she delivered one last barb. “You can fuck a woman, but you cannot listen to her!”
Trevain felt a tremor of rage run through him, and before he knew what he was doing, he had vehemently lifted his hand. He reached out forcefully to grab her. Later, he would think back and wonder if he would have had the resolve to stop himself from whatever he was about to do. He would never truly know—had he intended to physically force her to stay? How far would he have gone? He had not been in complete possession of all his faculties. This moment would haunt him for the rest of his life, and would be the first thing which came to mind every time he questioned whether or not he was a good person.
The sound of breaking glass was heard.
Trevain heard the whizzing of a bullet and he felt the impact of the projectile ripping through his body at the exact same time. Through skin, muscle, nerve, and ligament. He froze, and stared at his arm in shock.
His hand was inches away from seizing Aazuria by the neck.
The bullet had pierced precisely between the bones in his forearm, perhaps just grazing the insides of his ulna and radius. Trevain had a moment to appreciate the marksmanship before he was overwhelmed by pain.
Aazuria’s world spun. She had turned sharply at the sound, feeling the distortion in the air. She was taken aback too—not due to the bullet that had gone through Trevain’s arm, but due to the fact that he had actually been intending to manhandle her. She looked at him in confusion and disbelief. She did not think that he was capable of such cruelty. She had difficulty accepting that the kindhearted man with whom she had trusted her sisters would ever intend to harm her—especially over a few harsh words! But now that she knew he had Ramaris blood in his body, it was easy to understand the darker parts of his character. Also, the vicious Vachlan was his grandfather—it seemed he had inherited great rage and did not possess the experience to know how to drive it safely.
Maybe he had not been intending to grab her vehemently. She tried to convince herself of this. Maybe he had only meant to lay his hand lightly on her shoulder—he had probably had forgotten about her injury. It could all just be a misunderstanding. But she knew in her heart that her defender would not have taken such action unless she had deemed Aazuria to be in severe danger.
Seeing the blood dripping from his arm, all her thoughts immediately focused upon concern for him. She knew that the bullet had probably hit a vein, and he required medical attention to stop the bleeding. Her first instinct was to try to help heal him, and she found herself about to move forward. Instead, she reminded herself that he had been reaching for her neck and tried to make herself step backwards. The conflicting thoughts resulted in her brain sending her body mixed signals which caused her to sway slightly on her feet.
She straightened her posture, and steadied herself. She looked at Trevain numbly. “Did you wish to harm me?”
Trevain blinked, pressing down on the wound and looking to the window which the bullet had entered. There was only water in the distance—there was not even a boat visible on the water. “What the hell just happened?” It took him a moment, but upon noticing the hole in the glass, he immediately moved so that the wall was between him and the distant sniper. “Who are you people?” he cursed in pain. “I should have known that you were psychotic when Elandria first told me about your father.”
Fresh crimson blood continued dripping from his arm. She wanted to ask him again if he had intended to harm her, knowing that in future memory the situation would be distorted. It was not important anymore. Aazuria found herself withdrawing a small dagger from her thigh and cutting strips of fabric from the hem of her dress. She approached Trevain, disregarding his anger. “Here, let me bandage that up for you,” she said softly, touching his arm.
“Get away from me,” he whispered brokenly. He could not seem to control his vicious tongue. All he really wanted to do was hold her close and apologize. He just wanted to forget the fighting, forget the bullet, and taste her lips. He wanted to carry her to the couch and make love to her until they forgot all the pain and emotional distance that had been wedged between them.
Aazuria’s hands shook as she tried to bandage his arm. “I am not very good at this, but it should help to slow the bleeding. You must go to a hospital.”
“You should just kill me now and get it over with, Aazuria. First Leander, Callder, Arnav. Now my mother. Everyone has been taken from me. I can see that you are going to leave me too; I will have nothing left. So go on, and make it fast. Break my heart and get it over with.”
She knew that this was the moment that he needed her most. But she was not strong enough to cast aside her dignity and nationalism. She stepped away from him and nodded. “I agreed to marry you on one condition: I asked that you trust me—I asked that you allow a new idea into your mind.” With great mental effort, Aazuria reached down and removed the Ramaris ring from her finger. She placed it on the coffee table along with all of her hope. “As long as your mind remains stubbornly closed, that is the only piece of Adlivun you will ever possess.”
“Make it final this time,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t come back and dig open these wounds.”
“I can assure you that you will never see me again,” Aazuria said. “If Callder recovers from his wound enough to be moved, I will send him to you with a heavy military escort, several hundred warriors strong. They will arrive on the beach just outside—you may then transport him to preferred facilities with your vehicle. Similarly, if Callder dies, I will send his body to you in the same way. In either case, I will not be with the convoy.” She swallowed as she repeated her decision. “You will never see me again.”
She always abided by her declarations. Once decreed, it was a matter of honor to fulfill her own pronouncement. Her words would become cheap and empty; their power would be diminished if she used them carelessly—and if a woman did not have her words, what did she have? She turned to leave.
“Aazuria,” he groaned, clutching his bleeding arm. “Just know that I love you.”
“Love is worthless without trust and acceptance.”
Right before she crossed the threshold she turned back to him, feeling pity for his injured state. She had desperately needed to gaze upon him one last time; in spite of all that had happened, she treasured the sight of him. His face still affected her body like a good meal, delivering nourishment and energy where she was deficient. She knew that she would spend her life pining for him, and wondering what she could have done differently to change their ghastly fate. She had never really loved someone before, not like this; she had never known what it was like to be romantically attached to a man. She was sure that she had made all the wrong decisions, but she did not know how to remedy anything. It was all destroyed.
She wished she could say all this to him. She allowed her lips to part, and let the words which chose to flow forth choose themselves. She had relinquished all control of the situation. “In five hundred years, I have never seen Visola show mercy to someone who tried to hurt me. There are two reasons that you are alive right now. The first is that I also love you. The second is that the woman who shot you is your grandmother.”
With that she marched out of the house, and strode out of his life permanently. He never saw the tears streaming down her cheeks. She continued walking across his front lawn, and across the road which ran in front of his house. When she reached the beach, she kept going until she stepped off the land permanently. Moments after her tears had begun gushing forth, they were washed away and absorbed by the ocean.