“How do you know about the serpent?” said Spio.
Her aura flickered with shame. She traced a finger over the cracked skin on her arm. “The legend of the Host of Eriana was passed down my family.”
I glanced to the iron burns wrapped around her midsection. Was this the information Adaro had been trying to pry from her this whole time?
Guenevere narrowed her eyes. “Is it true that Medusa already overpowered his armies?”
I nodded. “She’s pushing back in every direction.”
Across the cavern, the army and guards fell into absolute silence.
“Why should we accept this southern mermaid as our new queen?” said Guenevere.
“Commander, remember his warning. We swore an oath,” shouted a mermaid from the crowd.
Guenevere ran a hand over the rubies in her braid and straightened, seemingly bolstered by the feel of them. “Adaro’s reign has ended. Utopia and the South Pacific are resisting. His army is surrendering under Medusa’s power, and the serpent is allied with those in front of us. We must consider the future of our kingdom.”
“We don’t intend to force a leader upon anyone,” I said. “We’ll hold an election. Everyone gets a vote.”
I felt horribly unqualified to be saying such things, but someone had to. Why not me? Why not someone who’d been working towards a new kingdom as tirelessly as I had?
Dione cast me a look of mingled surprise and anger.
But Queen Evagore said, “Everyone votes. You all have the right to decide what kind of kingdom you wish to live in.”
“And what will you have to offer?” said Guenevere.
Everyone turned to Queen Evagore. She looked too tired to hold herself upright, much less defend her position as queen.
Finally, she lifted the crown. The instant it was placed over her pale, limp hair, she became radiant. The crown’s weight drew her body longer, prouder. Her shoulders squared. Her tired eyes brightened.
“My kingdom is built upon freedom,” she said, voice soft and clear. “You are free to live as you wish, to choose your future, to express your voice. We live without prejudice. You will not be sent to a war in which the gruesomeness of the battle is determined by your gender. You will not be put to death because of your affiliation with humans. Your loved ones will not be sent to suffer and perish in a labour camp.”
The words seemed to suck the air from my lungs.
“The labour camp,” I whispered. How many were still trapped there?
“We will free them next,” whispered Dione.
“What about everyone in these cells?” said Creon. “We need to free them, too.”
“Do we?” said the dreadlocked merman. “What if they’re here because they’re criminals?”
“They’re here because Adaro deemed them too important to send to the camp,” said Guenevere.
Queen Evagore nodded gravely. “We have much to fix.”
My eyes roamed desperately over the walls full of cells. So many urgencies competed for our attention. Every moment we spent here, merpeople could be dying in the camps. Every moment, they were working closer towards unleashing a fatal storm on the Pacific coast.
And Meela. She was at risk waiting for us to get to Eriana Kwai with the queen.
How were we supposed to do all of this at once?
The crowd was murmuring, getting louder.
It was not a noise of protest.
My heart pounded. The darkness itself seemed to lift.
