I want to ask how Zara was able to look like Martin, but Nimue speaks again before I can.
“Now, daughter, sate my curiosity in turn. Tell me what you can do.”
I watch her in silence for a few moments. What exactly does she know? There’s no need to give her more information than she has. “Why ask me? I thought you said my father already told you.”
“He did tell me. He had no choice.”
A chill ripples through me. “Yet you said you did nothing to him.”
“Your father and I had a binding agreement before you were even born. We fought over who you would belong to, which court you would serve, until we finally came to a compromise. We bargained that, should you be born a seal, you would live with him. But if you were born in any other form, you’d be mine. Additionally, should you ever prove to be blessed with magic like I have—the power over life and death that I inherited from my banshee father—he would tell me, and you would thereafter belong to me. He found a weakness in thetell mepart and waited almost an entire year after your magic manifested before he finally confessed.”
I take in her words. Father never mentioned a bargain. Never informed me that Nimue could have a valid claim on me. The first time I learned I was in danger from her was the day I killed Luther. He never told me the danger would be caused by him telling Nimue about my deadly magic. My stomach ties itself in knots, and I don’t know if I should feel betrayed. Surely Father was only trying to protect me. Right?
“Anyhow,” Nimue says, shaking me from my uncomfortable musings, “tell me about this kissing magic.”
“Why, so you can exploit it?”
Just then, sound comes from outside the throne room. Seconds later, a dozen or so female forms enter from the corridors, while others emerge from the two pools next to the throne. Zara leads a group of fae who look somewhat like her—scaly bodies in differing shades of color, gills at their necks, and claw-tipped fingers. The fae who rise from the pools are types I recognize—beautiful undines, naiads, and sea nymphs, blue-skinned nixies, sirens with fleshy upper bodies that end in scaled tails, kelpies with sleek, black, equine bodies and red eyes.
The fae settle in around Nimue’s throne. Some stare adoringly at their queen while others cut glares at me from across the room. I breathe in deeply, willing myself not to panic or show fear.
“Sisters of the Black Eel, please meet my daughter, Maisie. Maisie, these are my most loyal subjects.”
What she means is her most loyal assassins. I’ve heard of the Sisters of the Black Eel. Nimue led them under Queen Melusine. Both Nimue and my father served in the now-deceased queen’s army, but each had different roles. Before unification of the isle, peace with the humans was tenuous. Father was responsible for defending the isle against seafaring trespassers, while Nimue’s Sisters of the Black Eel doled out covert justice. Father was the public face of the underwater army while Nimue was its hidden power. After the humans united with the fae, Nimue took Melusine’s place as Unseelie Queen of the Sea Court. Although there are rules in place that restrict Nimue from conducting unsanctioned assassinations, Father feared she’d disobey them to the isle’s demise. That’s when he took his place as Seelie King of the Sea, once again standing for peace and combating Nimue’s violent tendencies.
I don’t even want to consider how they ever came to have an affair.
“Maisie, before you stand the most powerful females of the sea, each with a special talent that serves our court. You too have a valuable talent. While I asked you to tell me about it, I think I’d prefer you showed me instead.”
“Excuse me?”
She snaps her fingers. “Zara.”
The fae’s jaw tenses as she casts a questioning glance at her queen. When Nimue refuses to acknowledge it, Zara lifts her chin and saunters over to me.
“Now, Maisie, show me what you can do.”
I look from Zara to Nimue. “You…want me to kiss her?”
Nimue gives a single nod.
“I’ll kill her.”
“I’m not worried.”
My gaze moves to Zara, who reveals no hint of fear behind her pursed lips and unsettling stare. “Do it already,” she taunts.
I take a step back, but she closes in.
“What is it, little seal? Lost your disdain for me so soon? Or have you no taste for kissing a female?”
“I…I’d kiss anyone just fine,” I say, cursing myself a second too late for my pathetic response.
“Prefer something more…familiar?” The scales shift on her face, fluttering from scalp to chin, forming the not-quite-Martin’s face. “Kiss me,” she says in a deep voice that almost sounds convincing.
I step back, but again she shadows my retreat.
“How about this?” The scales on her face shift, replacing Martin’s visage with dark skin, freckles, and copper-red hair.
