“I’m pretty sure I’ve just peed myself,” I croaked, thrilled to be able to speak again. “You may want to take off your robes and rinse them out elsewhere.”
Jearda huffed and would’ve probably ordered me to shut up again, but the water around the altar suddenly bubbled and churned, diverting her attention.
A pale green hand emerged from the frothy water. Its skin was rotting with decay, exposing white bones on the knuckles. The long nails looked like claws. They screeched on the marble as the hand gripped the altar.
With a cry of horror, I staggered back. The floor unexpectedly ended under my feet, sending me into an underwater pool. One of the cloaked figures grabbed me by my arm and hauled me up to the surface again. All done in utter silence.
A face emerged next to the ghostly green hand, then the chest of a woman. Her face and torso matched her hands—pale green skin, black sores of decaying flesh, and exposed white bones. Her muddy green hair was plastered to her forehead, and her hollowed cheeks were pockmarked with barnacles. She blinked, taking in the room with her dead black eyes. One of her eyeballs suddenly fell out, and she let it dangle on a string of sinew from its socket.
“Oh my God...” air rushed out of me with a gasp of horror and disgust.
I scrambled away from the undead creature, but the impenetrable wall of cloaked figures behind me blocked my escape.
“He’s ready for you,” the zombie woman rasped, with a wet gurgling sound coming from her torn throat.
“It’s time,” Jearda uttered breathlessly, clasping her hands in anticipation.
The shrouded figures flanked me on each side. I darted my gaze around the room, searching for a break in the crowd. I’drun. Fuck it. I’d probably be caught before I even crossed the threshold, but I’d at least give it a try.
Strong hands gripped my arms firmly, taking away any hope for an escape.
“Let’s go,” the figure on my right said, and I recognized Dorelea’s voice.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
Now that Jearda gave me back control of my body, the question came out easily. I expected Dorelea to order me to be quiet again. But she replied from under the black hood that covered most of her face, “Poor thing. You were doomed from the moment you set foot in the royal palace. Sooner or later, the king would’ve murdered you anyway. At least now, you have a chance to serve a higher purpose.”
Maybe I was too desperate for compassion, but the note of pity in her voice emboldened me to grip her hand.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I asked. “What have I done?”
“Nothing.” She petted my shoulder almost sympathetically. “I believe it wasn’t even your fault that the king grew fond of you. He’s been so devastatingly lonely, he would’ve gotten attached to anyone brave or clueless enough to spend some time with him. You’ve done nothing wrong, and there is nothing you could’ve done differently that would’ve spared you from your fate now. Let that be your consolation.”
“Then why are you punishing me? Let me go,” I pleaded.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not a punishment,” she cooed gently before her voice hardened again, “There is no fault of yours in anything that has happened in Olathana. King Kye is the only one to blame for all his misfortunes and ours. But we can’t let you go. We need you now to help us right his wrongs.”
The zombie woman arched her back in a dive. As her head and shoulders disappeared in the water, a long black tail slinkedover the surface next. The woman had no legs. She was a mermaid. A zombie mermaid. Undead and rotting.
My stomach roiled. I tried to cross my arms over it, but the sirens held my arms firmly.
Jearda dove in next.
The floor we all stood on wasn’t solid. There were openings in it to underwater pools below. Dorelea on my right and another cloaked siren on my left stepped into one of the pools, dragging me down with them.
I had no chance to protest. We went down as if laden with a load of bricks. Water rushed into my mouth, my nose, my eyes... I drew in a breath to scream but only filled my lungs with water too.
The glow of the pool faded in front of my eyes. The water grew darker the deeper we went. I gripped my throat, bulging my eyes out and expecting to pass out from the lack of air soon. I should pass out. How long can one survive with their lungs filled with seawater?
My body felt cold as ice. But my throat remained warm. And it pulsed, as if my heart had migrated up to my neck.
I managed to free my arm from Dorelea and grabbed my throat, but I couldn’t feel my skin under my fingers. Something was in a way. Rows upon rows of small, hard spheres... Numerous strings of pearls circled my neck like a wide, tight collar. The pearls felt warm to the touch too, heating my skin and...keeping me alive somehow?
I drew in more water into my lungs, then released it as my chest constricted. In and out. In and out. I went through the motions of breathing, only instead of air, my lungs pumped water for me.
Kye had said that pearls held magic in Olathana. It must be the pearls around my neck that allowed me to breathe underwater.
My head was spinning. Darkness rushed up at us from below. Any light or shimmer from fish and plants were left far above us now.
