Edward and Skye stood frozen by the doorway to my right, and I rushed to join them, my mouth falling open as I took in the rest of the space. The floor was a great circular mosaic depicting the Insignia of the Ocean and its houses. Around the edge, what must have been the unique brand of each great household was carved into stone, the etchings glowing like the runes on the walls above. A hollow ring of clear crystal—the speaker’s circle—was in the chamber’s center.
Elevated platforms of polished stone, arranged in tiers around the speaker’s platform, housed different royal families. Silk banners hung vertically along the walls, depicting each house’s lineages. Their colors were vibrant, and they waved and shifted with the current.
“Where should we sit?” Edward asked nervously.
I scanned the space and the radiant banners. I understood his hesitation. None of us had a “house” here.
“Come on, let’s sit with the Kingdom of Thálassa.” Skye pushed forward, taking us both by the hand and leading us to where the Thálassians were gathered, a space adorned with purple banners depicting the Insignia of the Ocean and a murex snail shell.
Queen Peisinoe and King Proteus offered warm smiles, and I couldn’t help but grin in return. If I’d had to choose a house, it would have been Thálassa, especially knowing my grandmother had once lived among them.
Skye slid onto the platform on the king and queen’s left, beside Damon, Alexandros, and Porphura. Alexandros’s purple hair was tied up in a bun, and Damon’s dark curls drifted about his face as he turned to wink at me.
Porphura offered us a weak smile, and my heart clenched. Her features were pale, her hair disheveled, and her posture weighed down by grief.
Edward and I slipped onto the podium, which placed me beside QueenPeisinoe. Her dark hair, adorned with golden jewels, cascaded down her back, glinting against the aquamarine shimmer of her scaled body.
I scanned the chamber, eyes searching for Finn. He sat beside his father with Glacies on his other side, Pisceon and Inegar sitting to the king’s left. Behind them, a trio of pearl-tailed guards hovered, and something in my gut twisted as memories of Neptunus’s cold, dark dungeons came rushing back.
Their deep-emerald banners were emblazoned with the ocean’s shared insignia and crowned by a dark wave tipped with pearlescent foam.
Mr. Inegar peeled away from the king’s side and glided toward the central podium.
You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s running this show.I shot Edward a look, which he returned.
“We are gathered here to discuss Manannán’s imposing threat,” Inegar began. “As you all know, the God of the Drowned has returned.” A ripple of anger coursed through the crowd, and he paused, waiting for it to subside. “With his blood-fueled henchmen, he has reclaimed the Garden of Mortimer and overthrown the seven Drowned Protectors.”
I dragged my gaze to Queen Asherah, seated with the remaining Mer of Mors on a dais beneath the Neptunus delegation. Behind them hung a black banner emblazoned with a gnarled sea flower.
“We have called you here to decide whether we will go to war,” Mr. Inegar boomed, then fell silent, clasping his webbed hands over his chest as he surveyed the crowd, inviting them to respond.
“If Manannán has reclaimed Mortimer, what does that mean?” The question came from the dark-haired and striking Mai of the Sundara Sirens.
Mr. Inegar’s face was grave. “We do not know. The gods never expected the Mors Kingdom to fall.”
A ripple passed through the crowd again.
“I say we go to war!” The cry came from King Väinö, Glacies’s father, from where her family sat beside the Neptunus Mer under banners of ice blue, each adorned with a snowflake.
“Agreed,” boomed King of Krumos from the next dais over. He sat beneath silver banners marked with a shard of ice, flanked by his red-haired queen and their son, Prince Hurley. “We’ve already forged barbed arrows and crossbows for everyone, as instructed by the Neptunus ward,” he declared, leaning forward against the stone railing. He glanced at Pisceon, who gave a slight, encouraging nod.
“But there are so few of us left,” wailed Mai, her eyes wide with fear.
“Yes,” Aarna’s mother, Queen Samudra, cried from underneath orange banners. “The Shadow has made us vulnerable.”
“So you would cower like weaklings?” King Väinö rumbled. “We still havesomepowers.”
My gaze landed on King Neptunus, silently observing the chaos, his eyes gleaming as he stroked his chin.
“It’s easy for you, Niveus Mer, with your icy weapons, but what about us Sirens, whose powers lie only in the mind?” Mai called from her podium.
“Wewill fight with you.”
I turned to see who had spoken. Aranare was standing tall, his voice steady. Beside him was his father, beneath black banners emblazoned with a Celtic triskele.
“You survived the Shadow by breeding with humans,” Malak shouted from Mai’s side, eyes blazing as he glared at Aranare, whose podium was beside his own.
The room erupted into a frenzy of frantic conversations, voices risingand blurring in a tangled crescendo. I whipped my gaze from one house to the next, trying to follow the storm of clashing words.
