Finn gave a grim nod, grasping my hand and guiding me forward. We weaved through the gathering as we followed Asherah. Her shoulders were trembling, but she held them high as she made her way to the coral thrones where Peisinoe and Proteus sat.
We stopped at her side, the three of us now standing before the king and queen.
“I came to warn you,” Asherah cried, a black metal sword strapped to her back. Her tail was jet black, but the scales shimmered with hints of green.
Queen Peisinoe stiffened, stepping down from her throne to take Asherah’s hands in her own.
“Warn us?” Finn’s brow creased as he turned to the warrior mermaid.
“All the Protectors have fallen. Manannán’s forces have taken back the Kingdom of Mors, and he’s granted the title to the Fisherman.”
“What do you mean he’s taken back?” My heart began to race.
“The Mors Kingdom was Manannán’s palace before the gods stripped him of it.” Finn pursed his lips, looking ill at ease.
The throne I’d seen him on in my visions. The hairs in the back of my neck stood on end.
King Proteus paled as he rose to stand. “And the Garden?”
“The Garden of Mortimer and all its wicked souls are now answering to Manannán.”
Queen Peisinoe placed a webbed hand on Asherah’s arm. “Your people?”
“They fought bravely, but there were too many Drowned, and they don’t die. Those who escaped scattered as emissaries, hoping to reach the kingdoms in time.”
“And your husband, the king consort?” Finn asked, his throat tight.
Asherah’s shoulders trembled, but she stood tall, steadying her breath. “He’s gone.”
Other partygoers had been listening, and a swell of chaos erupted, their conversations breaking into screams and shouts.
“Silence,” Pisceon yelled, drifting to the king and queen’s side from where he’d been pacing the dance floor. “There’s no time to waste—we must go to the summit immediately.” He looked to Proteus, who nodded his assent.
I swung to face Finn. “If the Mors Kingdom has fallen... what does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice grave, but he threaded his fingers through mine in reassurance.
45
Morgana
Finn guided me away from the chaos and back to the palace, where we found Alexandros and Damon seated on their thrones in the echoing chamber. Pisceon was drifting two and fro before them, his muscles on full attention as he mused, and he threw a grateful look in Finn’s direction as we swam over to join them.
Aarna swept into the room behind us, her dark tresses trailing like ink in the water as she tugged Glacies along by the hand.
“What’s going on?” Glacies asked as they reached us.
“All the Protectors have fallen; Manannán now controls the Kingdom of the Drowned.” Pisceon’s eyes flicked like a predator’s from one person to the next.
Alexandros leaned one elbow on the armrest of his throne, the other hand tracing a crack in the stone. “The king and queen have gone to ready themselves. We will leave immediately.”
“Manannán will expect us to head to the summit; he will be ready.” Finn pinched the bridge of his nose.
Pisceon ran his tongue over his teeth. “A procession will attract attention—”
“Let’s split up.” Finn interrupted him. The Thálassians leave tonight, and we follow at first light.”
“Our route takes us past Port Royal... under the shadow of his fortress.” Glacies’s features were strung taut. It was the first time I’d seen the mermaid lack composure.
