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The shell game

Livia hung the magic mirror in the partition between the column and the canopy. It didn’t seem to show its magical ability to look wherever you asked it to. Vayra, for example, wouldn’t even realize it was magical unless she wanted to see a certain place when she was near it. One can only hope she’s reasonable. Or she could wish aloud to see distant places while cleaning, in which case the mirror will reveal itself.

Desdemona herself had already had time to ask the spy’s eye to show her everything, even the Blue Islands, where the Morgens and an earthly queen named Adriana had settled.

It was indeed beautiful there. There were pearls instead of berries on the blue branches of the trees, the leaves were blue, and there were pearl rains on the coast. The sand was studded with pearls and coral. The birdsong resembled the voices of sirens.

The mirror could also transmit sounds. It was truly an excellent spy. If Desdemona had close friends or adoring relatives, she could see them without going anywhere.

But should she, if she has no friends, spy on her enemies? And does she have enemies? The spy’s eye is clearly designed to spy on ill-wishers. The Morgens invented it for a reason. Even at the bottom, they wanted to maintain control of the world.

“Your kin from the sea can probably see everything that’s happening to us right now,” Desdemona commented thoughtfully on the power of the mirror.

“I don’t think they’re that interested in us,” Moran rearranged an intricate game of live shells on the lomber table. It was called sea chess. The board was divided into a water field and a land field.

“One person plays on land, the other on water,” Moran explained.

“It would be symbolic if you yourself were not the king of the land.”

“Do you want to play on the water side?”

“Oh, no, I don’t!” Desdemona picked up the black shells symbolizing the earth. As it turned out, there was no need to touch them with one’s hands. All you had to do was give the command (aloud or mentally) and they moved on their own. Moran proved to be a more skillful player. Desdemona’s projectiles were sinking in the blue water fields of the board.

“Let’s play for land,” she suggested after a quarter of an hour. “After all, a land king (even as a Morgen himself) has a duty to protect his islands from the sea.”

Moran didn’t bother to remind her that she herself had never become a priestess of the sea god, but allowed her to play on the water side of the board. It wasn’t proving to be so easy. The blue water projectiles burned up, barely hitting the earth fields.

“How can you win like that?” Desdemona was indignant, shuddering at the sight of another flash of flame as another of her projectiles was trapped and burned.

“The principle here is the same as in ordinary chess. You just don’t know your way around the obstacles.”

Desdemona tried again, but again failed and even burned her palm.

“No, I do not know how to play it,” she gave up.

“It’s simple! Not without reason it is a favorite game at the sea court.”

“The shells are burning, and I’m scared. Sea chess is beautiful, but when you start playing it, you realize it’s more creepy than entertaining.”

“You should see the sands!”

“What is that?”

“It’s a game of the goddess Alais. She invented it to drive kings and warlords mad.”

“It must be a terrible game,” Desdemona agreed. The mention of Alais brought to mind the dragon goddess who roamed the flaming palaces of Tioria.

Desdemona gave a sigh of relief. It was easier to think of it that way. The thought of some deity taking Moran away from her did not please her at all. In the king, she’d finally found the friend she’d never had before. She was also in love with Moran. So just looking at him was already a pleasure. And from talking to him, you could learn a lot of secrets that people don’t even know about.

“Have you ever met forest or heavenly spirits?” She wondered. “What are they like?”

“They are delightful to look at, and quite insidious.”

“Are they more insidious than water spirits?”

“I told you, we all come from the same legion. We all have the same habits.”

“I thought only watermen were malicious enough to sneak up on human ships out of the water and sink them.”

“Don’t feel bad!” – Moran decided that she was still sad about the loss of the “Queen of Aquilania” and took her hand. His webbed skin was cool and pleasant, like the touch of a forest spring.

On top of his sea crown, which grew straight from his skin, he wore the traditional wreath of the King of Aquilania, made of gold and rubies. He looked magnificent now. The ladies of the court sighed languidly at the sight of him, but he preferred to sit in solitude with Desdemona.

Perhaps he was the first king of the entire Aquilanian’s dynasty who, instead of searching for favorites, entertained his queen with games. Today he’s forgotten even the cares of state. And he kept saying that as king he had many urgent matters to attend to. Apparently, burden was placed on the shoulders of Quo and other morgens, crawling on the walls and ceilings of the palace, as on the seabed.

It was not good to get into politics, but Desdemona remembered the wailing of the cook and reported:

“The commoners complain that their husbands are drunk on your generous allowance.”

“What do you mean?” His handsome eyebrows raised in bewilderment.

“Wouldn’t it have made more sense to keep them busy with some useful work instead of feeding a kingdom of slackers?”

“What useful work can ordinary people do for me?”

Moran stood up and beckoned her to the window.

“Look!” The sea was swarming with Morgens, pulling barrels of wine and pearls from shipwrecks. “Humans can’t do that. They’re weak!”

“But you shouldn’t feed your subjects for nothing.”

“It’s not free.”

“Are you scaring me? You want to make the population entirely marine? Will touching your gold make them all sick like my father?”

“It is enough! You’re not my first minister yet,” he joked.

“I’m your wife, which means I have more rights over you than the first minister.”

Moran grinned, showing that he was still happy to have such a beautiful burden. With his morgen’s claws, he could have easily tamed his wife’s stroppy temper, but he didn’t.

Desdemona is bolder.

“Who is the lady who sits at night on the queen’s throne in my place?”

“Is that of interest to you?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Are you afraid she’ll take some of your jewelry? She loves shiny things, like a magpie. She hoards treasures, hoards stolen or repossessed gold.”

“Don’t scare me! I will not give my jewels, that is, the crown jewels, to a rival.”

Nor my husband, she wanted to add, but was too shy.

“All beauties sin by greed,” Moran joked again.

“It’s a matter of principle, not greed.”

“That’s what Sephora says. That’s why she’s holed up in Tiora, the capital of Tioria. It has the most caches of riches, but the rulers there are cunning. I wonder who’s going to get the better of whom? Did it ever occur to you that dragons have the same instincts as magpies when it comes to shiny things?”

“What does that have to do with dragons? Or is the lady really a dragon?”

Moran faltered.

“I don’t remember telling you about Sephora and who she really is,” he glanced suspiciously at the mirror. “Did it show it?”

Desdemona did not dissuade him. Outside the windows, the midday sun was shining brightly, but suddenly darkness fell, as if a giant had risen from the sea and covered the sky.

“Is it a solar eclipse?” She worried. Being in the dark, in the middle of the day was scary. “They say there is a solar eclipse before the sea god takes the sacrifice.”

But Moran wasn’t alarmed. Wouldn’t he be sorry to lose his wife? True, there was still a belief that before the country sank, there would also be an eclipse of the sun. Somewhere in the heights of the sky there was a roar. Desdemona covered her eyes with her palms.

“It has nothing to do with Darunon,” Moran pulled her hands away from her face. “Look closer! The sun was covered by the shadow of wings.”

Something was flying across the sky, making threatening noises. First it spread darkness, then a glow. All the sentries and archers on the towers had long since been replaced by morgens, so no one raised a panic. The silver dragon was approaching the castle. The shadow of its huge wings covered the towers.

“My chief scout has arrived. Would you like to meet her?”

Moran’s courteous offer came like a slap in the face.

“It is no way!” Desdemona exclaimed.

Who would want to get acquainted with a rival?

Moran only shrugged his shoulders and hurried to meet her. His purple robe slid like liquid fire down the stairs leading to the roof of the tower.

Desdemona was left alone with the mirror, which stubbornly refused to show her the rendezvous between the king and the dragoness.

Maybe she had jumped to conclusions. Moran seemed to call the guest a scout, not a friend. But why would he need a scout who flies over the sea, when he himself can get all the information about the enemies without leaving the castle? It is enough to give an order to the mirror-observer, and it will show everything.

What really connects the waterman and the dragon lady? From above came suspicious and wild sounds, then something like the singing of a siren. Desdemona never dared to go up and peep. She had already burned herself on the sea chess. She didn’t want to be burned by the dragon’s breath.

The Wooden Queen

“The wooden queen of Aquilania was lost in the stormy waves, it was the turn of the living queen!”

Whoever said that reminded Desdemona of the ship with her dead brothers. That ship, after all, was called the “Queen of Aquilania.” That’s symbolic, considering that it was the current queen who was originally meant to be sacrificed to the sea. Presumably, by taking the ship, the sea would calm down.

Desdemona had the feeling that someone had threatened her from the darkness with a clawed finger. Could the mirror be speaking to her? It was now showing a half-empty ship and a blonde mermaid who was flirting brazenly with the captain.

“This is Yasmin, the eldest of the sea king’s daughters,” explained Moran, who had returned. His date with the dragon lady had ended very quickly.

“Is it your sister? I did not wish to see her.”

“I wished to see her. I thought she’d come around a little since we broke up. But I see she’s gone wild.”

“She will drag that captain down,” Desdemona guessed.

Moran sighed.

“What else do you expect from a mermaid?”

“It is love for a handsome mortal boy.”

“Yasmin often falls in love with mortals, but it ends badly for them. The sea princess already has a collection of skeletons of her suitors.”

“And I thought that if someone brave went down to the sea kingdom and asked the crowned father for her hand, everything would be solved like magic.”

“That’s not likely! The sea king is least desirous of his daughters’ marriage. The thing is, each of them has a special talent that will come in handy to…”

“Is it to sweep away the entire earthly world?” Desdemona said the first thing that came to her mind, for Morgens do not tolerate humans.

Moran was silent.

The flapping of powerful wings somewhere above heralded the dragon’s departure from the castle.

“Sephora reports that we should expect an unusual ambassador.”

“From the depths of the sea, I believe. And how is he unusual?”

“He will be sent to test how well I can handle Aquilania on my own. If the ambassador is convinced I’m not a good autocrat, they’ll send us imposed help from the sea. This is a test. We cannot fail it.”

“And what can I do to help?”

“You can expose the naval ambassador. He won’t look like a waterman.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the Copycat,” Moran snapped his fingers, and a creature that looked like a huge white spider slid off the frame of the trundle. It straightened up to its full height and suddenly became the first minister Ramiro.”

Desdemona gasped.

“I didn’t know his grace was also a morgen.”

“Ramiro is not a morgen,” Moran objected. “Show her the other changes of guise!”

And now in front of Desdemona already was the same handsome Lancier, about whom Vaira chirped endlessly. He smiled impudently at her and showed his fingers with webbing. It was immediately clear that this was not Lancier. In a fraction of a minute, the creature called Copycat took on a succession of guises, from royal advisors to lackeys. Toward the end, it took the form of all the brothers in turn, and even Desdemona’s father.

“That’s it! Enough!” She demanded.

The creature crawled nimbly back behind the frame of the drawer, and from there climbed up the wall. It looked like a fancy ivory ornament.

“It can turn into women, too,” Moran boasted.

As if to confirm his words, the Imitator sat down at the top of the arch and suddenly turned into Desdemona herself, exactly copying her figure, hair and dress.

“It would frighten everyone to death if it repeated the trick in public,” Desdemona turned away from the double.

“But you can drive your enemies crazy that way. Imagine if no one warned you about the Copycat, but you see your copy mimicking you everywhere.”

“And you’re afraid the naval ambassador will come to you in my guise? You can’t tell me from a Morgen unless I give you a sign.”

Moran shrugged.

“It’s best if we both know about the visitor and look him out. If you denounce him, don’t hesitate to tell him you’ve figured out his secret. Father will be pleased to know that my queen is not a simpleton. Then he won’t impose his rules or his help on us.”

“And what if we need his help one day?” Desdemona thought of the sunken temple. Would a sea king be able to take control of that place?

“I’m used to handling everything myself,” Moran disappointed her.

“Why should you cherish your independence when somewhere at the bottom of the sea there is a powerful father who can sink the whole world for you?”

“I’ll explain later,” Moran was withdrawn.

He led Desdemona out into the garden and to an arbor, which was braided by a blue sea tree with a scaly trunk. Moran plucked one fruit from it.

“Would you like a taste?”

“It is to lose your mind or your memory?”

“It is to learn to hear the gossip that the waves carry to the shore.”

Sounds tempting, but Desdemona didn’t dare.

“Some other time,” she promised. The tree moving its living roots beneath the gazebo frightened her a little. Besides, she still didn’t know how much she could trust Moran. He was courteous to her. It was easy to fall in love with him, but it was a little scary to trust a morgen.

The basilica behind the garden with its doors ajar clearly displayed sculptures of gods that looked like they came from the sea. Desdemona gazed at them mesmerized. The marble figures were beautiful and frightening. She had seen something like them before in the cathedrals of the city. The goddesses had tails instead of legs or shells in place of ears, the gods had gills and scales.

“These are the original gods of the land,” Moran explained. “I have seen them all alive, and to me they are not gods at all, but only my father’s subjects. This is the statue of Ariana. You call her Pheean, the goddess of the waves. Apparently, that’s how the name was heard by someone who heard it only as an echo of mermaid talk.”

Desdemona’s attention was distracted by the Copycat. He crawled along the ceilings of the arches to the basilica and took the form of a lady of fire.

Moran seemed to have called the dragon lady Sephora.

“What do you and the fire-breathing lady have in common?” Desdemona dared to ask.

“Well,” Moran reluctantly stretched out. “She is much older than me. That’s what’s causing all the trouble.”

“Is it a few years older? I thought you were a hundred,” Desdemona snickered.

Moran pretended not to feel the pinprick.

“She is a few millennia older. But that’s a small thing to her. Creatures like her only add beauty and strength over time. It’s humans who age quickly.”

That’s right! Desdemona’s sad. She’s human. And she’s to be sacrificed. And if they don’t sacrifice her, she’ll grow old anyway, and she won’t be able to be Moran’s mate anymore.

“Won’t you grow old?”

“I’ve only grown a hundred years, but have I reached maturity?” said Moran sullenly. “At the bottom, I am too young, and if you tell my age to people, they will be stunned.”

“It wasn’t age that stunned me,” Desdemona admitted. “What does it matter how many hundreds of years old a creature with a pleasant ever-young face is? It is the fact that you’re half human and half morgen…”

“I don’t know if I was born this way or if the legend is right. My father split me in two with a sword when my mother tried to escape him back to the humans. I am one half Morgen, one half human.”

Even Desdemona heard the legend of Lilophea in the Adar’s wilderness. It seems that the princess who escaped back to the land, the sea husband issued an ultimatum: if she did not return, they would have to divide the children equally. Half the mother would take back to the land. Half would stay with the father in the sea. Lilophea’s sons were an uneven number, and it became necessary to cut the odd seventh son in half. Lilophea apparently did not have any mermaid daughters at that time. Hearing the ultimatum, she returned. But was it really like that? Or was Lilophea not going to leave the sea kingdom forever from the very beginning? Apparently, the princess had a flighty temper. She could only banter with her consort. It would be a shame if something bad really happened to Moran because of her jokes.

“Do your brothers have different bodies? Did they inherit any human traits from their mother?”

“Normal watermen have blue skin and shell-shaped growths on their temples and foreheads. You wouldn’t mistake them for humans if they wore an ermine robe over their shoulders.”

“Are the chosen girls sacrificed to such creatures?”

Moran remained sullenly silent.

“Who is a sea god to you: an annoying nuisance to unlimited power or an insignificant inhabitant of the sea?”

“The sea itself is becoming dangerous!” Moran squinted at the waves like an attacking enemy. “It belongs to my father and brothers, not to me. That is why I am here. In the kingdom my mother would return to if she could leave the depths.”

“What happens if the sea can’t do without a victim?”

“In that case, I have a friend named Sephora who can turn the waves into fire. There are talismans that turn a pool of water into a pool of fire. That’s how we met. I fended off a big bay that wasn’t my father’s, and she flew by and the water turned to flames. I almost got fried, but Sephora saved me. Then it turned out that she had befriended my mother long before I was born. I was attracted to her for nothing. To her, I’m the child of an old acquaintance, that’s all. But she can ignite the entire sea around Aquilania if you ask her to.”

Desdemona’s heart is relieved. So Sephora is no match for her! But there was another cause for concern.

“It is to turn the whole sea into fire! Is that possible?”

“It’s a last resort,” Moran said.

“And you have to do it for something?”

“If my enemies are suddenly stronger than I am, which is unlikely,” Moran said. “Sephora could ignite the entire ocean. That’s something we can negotiate with her. The bad thing is that then we, the Earthlings, and all those who live in the water will die in the fire.”

So there’s no way out. If it becomes necessary to fight Darunon, the country will either burn or sink. Desdemona returned to her room, looked at the bouquet of luxurious lilies that Moran had brought her in the morning, and realized that beautiful flowers no longer pleased her. For the abyss was near. The floor beneath her feet no longer felt like she was about to become a mermaid with a tail and a creepy sea god pulling her to the bottom.

“The wooden queen has already sunk, it’s the turn of the living queen,” she repeated, looking into the magic mirror.

The mirror immediately showed her a piece of wood from the bow of the ship that was bobbing in the waves with mermaids splashing around it. It was part of a carved female figure, the kind usually used to decorate ships. Indeed, it looked like a statue of a queen. In the salt water of the sea, the wood would quickly rot and turn black. There will soon be nothing left of the beautiful figure.

Desdemona could not recall this figure or any other adorned the bow of the sunken “Queen of Aquilania.”

She is queen now! Is the queue for her?

“Come to me!” The voice was definitely not calling from the mirror, but it suddenly showed the sunken temple. Its spires and domes curved in relief over the inky black water. The sun was setting, illuminating them with bloody light.

Desdemona felt a sudden impulse to go to the sea. It was as if someone whispered in her ears:

“You were born to swim, not to walk on land!”

It hurt to step. It was as if small broken glass had fallen into her feet. Desdemona took off her shoes and examined her feet. Scales had erupted under her heels and toenails. Her feet had become like two fish.

“Swim!” said a commanding voice.

Was it the wind itself whispering? Desdemona looked around for the speaker, but she had no strength left to stand on the shore. She found it hard to breathe. She didn’t remember how she had fallen into the sea. The corset that squeezed her breasts had burst, or she had torn it. Instead of the exquisite brocade of Aquilania, a stiff purple scale stretched across her chest. It felt like armor. Her legs, once in the water, were joined by a tail and long fins.

So she’s a mermaid! It was in real life, not in a dream. Desdemona struck the waves with her tail and darted forward. No sailboat could sail that fast. She had the feeling that she was flying ahead of the waves. There was only one thought in her mind: she had to hurry, because someone was waiting for her. That someone was calling her. The call came as if from the sea floor, but she had to swim forward to the horizon.

Overhead, seagulls shrieked frantically. The wedding ring somehow didn’t sound the alarm. Apparently it was itself surprised to find itself suddenly on a mermaid’s hand instead of the queen’s finger. Desdemona had deceived it so often that it must have thought she had quietly traded it for something. Pearl yawned sleepily, but didn’t raise a panic. Apparently it had grown tired of its past mistress and felt more comfortable on the silent sea maiden’s finger.

It was worth diving deeper under the water for a moment and Desdemona saw a stunning world of bright colors, magical fish and sea wonders. Singing shells shone in the depths, lacey networks of seaweed swayed, sandy pyramids were towered. Sunken treasures glittered. But she had to hurry. The call, coming from afar, pulled her forward magnetically. The sky above the sea was darkening rapidly, a storm was coming. A storm was about to break. Desdemona did not notice the impending danger.

“Swim to the temple!” Someone called out.

The temple! What direction is it in? Desdemona looked around. There are only waves. They are getting stronger and higher. The water is getting darker and darker. Soon it will be pitch black.

Desdemona had sailed so far that the shores of Aquilania were no longer visible behind her. She had only been at sea for a few minutes. Can mermaids really swim so fast? She hadn’t been a mermaid all her life and suddenly she was. It was just before her nineteenth birthday.

Alarm bells went off in her brain. What if her transformation was a birthday present, followed by a deadly ritual? A voice, coming from an unknown place, was calling her to the temple. Which temple, she somehow never doubted for a moment. The sunken one!

But how was it to get there? And should she go there at all? She’s not crazy enough to willingly sacrifice herself. She has Moran, her lover and her king. She should go home to him. He’s more important than some creepy deity demanding tribute in girls’ lives.

In defiance of the calling voice, Desdemona turned and swam back to the shores of Aquilania. Someone was very angry with her. She felt someone’s fury gathering over her like a black cloud. As luck would have it, there was a thunderstorm. It was the beginning of a storm. A gust of strong wind literally threw Desdemona under the water. In the depths was a little calmer. Jellyfish and swordfish tried to swim away from Desdemona. Probably they feel that she is an enchanted mermaid, not a real one. But who bewitched her? Was it an ancient god who’s been waiting for her for a long time? She’s not even sure if he even exists or if it’s just a scary legend to scare the people. She’s never seen Darunon with her own eyes. And she’d do well not to in the future.

One living sea legend, Moran, was enough for her. Desdemona came to the surface with difficulty. It was like a counterweight had been attached to her tail. Some force was pulling her down.

Being a mermaid is good and pleasant only as long as you feel weightless in the water. Then the waves carry you forward like a grain of sand. Desdemona tried to regain the feeling of lightness and swam a little. The sea was getting stormier and stormier. It darkened rapidly. Soon it would be night, and she was alone on the open sea, with a scaly tail instead of legs. She wondered if the mermaid packs would mistake her for a tribeswoman if they saw her. So far there were no other mermaids or newts around. Desdemona came upon a log bobbing on the waves and was stunned. It was the same carved figure from the bow of the ship that the magic mirror had shown her that morning.

Up close, the wooden queen appeared beautiful and sinister. The empty eyes seemed cunning for some reason, as did the wooden lips curved in a sneer. Desdemona felt as if she had stumbled upon the corpse of a drowned woman, or worse, a sleeping magical creature. Moran had said something about oceanids being able to harden themselves to escape persecution.

“Are you alive or wooden?” Desdemona touched the exquisitely carved face. Every wooden curl, every prong of the crown was carved so skillfully that the figure seemed asleep. Curious as to which of the queens of Aquilania it was made in honor of? It was not Lilophea. She never became queen of Aquilania because she went to the sea kingdom. Could this wooden queen be a copy of her mother?

“Swim back! To me!”

Desdemona missed the last call. It could have been just an illusion created by the howling of the storm wind.

Suddenly, something pulled her harder to the bottom. Her tail seemed to split. The scales on her chest began to disappear. Desdemona gasped as she realized she was drowning. What a bad time to be a girl again. It would only take her five minutes to swim back to shore.

She tried to grasp the wooden queen, but her fingers only slid across its surface. She seemed to have picked up a splinter. It didn’t matter! Another wave hit her head.

“The Queen is drowning!” squeaked the suddenly awakened ring.

How belatedly it had awakened! All it took was to turn back into a girl to rouse its vigilance.

Something like an octopus limb wrapped around Desdemona’s ankle and pulled her down. And the storm was getting worse. This is the end! Desdemona prepared to drown before her fateful nineteenth birthday, when suddenly someone incredibly strong grabbed her around the waist. He swam up suddenly, just surfaced from the stormy wave and embraced her.

“Hold on!” It was Moran’s voice. It was sweeter than heavenly music in the stormy sea.

How long did it take Moran to swim to her? Was it a minute? How long had it been since the ring had given voice?

Something like a huge kraken was pulling her to the bottom, but as soon as Moran tugged her toward him, the something receded.

“There’s a wooden queen floating in the water,” Desdemona whispered, eagerly snuggling into Moran’s cold chest. “Do you think she called me here?”

“It is surely not her!” Moran turned to the wreck of the ship, which the waves had already carried far away. It’s a wonder it hasn’t sunk yet.

“I just turned into a mermaid! Do you believe me?”

Obviously, no one could believe such a thing, because there was no answer.

As it turned out, Moran didn’t need his hands to swim. He held Desdemona tightly. Only his octopus-like limbs were shoveling water. In a fraction of a minute he reached the shore, but he did not enter the usual way through doors or loggias, but climbed straight up the wall to the window of the king’s bedroom. It seemed to Desdemona that they both flew.

Livia and Bersaba instantly realized they needed to light the fireplace and heat the wine. Moran laid a shivering Desdemona on the bed. She felt light kisses on her neck and lips. They were sweet, but they sent a chill through her.

“Ariana’s warming elixirs have run out today,” Moran whispered, pulling away, “but tomorrow she will fly in and bring new ones. In the meantime, sleep!”

The pearl on the ring mumbled something unhappily, but Desdemona did not listen to it. Her consciousness sank into sleep as into a dark swamp.