Page 22
“That settles it, then,” James declares. “You need a wife to impress the old nobles, and she’s a brave, beautiful fisherwoman who mysteriously saved you from drowning. Sounds like a miracle to me.”
Darcy shifts in her seat, her thighs brushing my skirt. “Sorry about that, Dee. I warned you I come from a strange family.”
“A traditional family.” Aunt Nell pushes her golden spectacles higher up on her nose. “And you can explain our traditions to her after we handle this ordeal with the serpent. The harpoon gun might’ve caused an injury, but you didn’t confirm its death, so it could turn up on our shores again.”
I start to tell her the serpent is definitely dead, then close my mouth around the rim of my glass because no one else knows that.
Darcy pats my knee. “Can we speak in private after dinner?”
“I would love to.”
“Then let’s return to the matter of the sea serpent.” Aunt Nell waves to the women standing near the hearth. “Would you bring out the paintings for our guest?”
They pick up the two frames leaning against the wall and carry them over to us. Darcy slides her chair back to make room for them as they hold the paintings up for me.
One is done in soft pastel colors, while the other has a dark, stormy mood. They both depict the same thing, though–a serpent thrashing about in the Undine sea.
Aunt Nell sits at the edge of her seat, watching expectantly. I reach for the quizzing glass I secreted in my bodice before dinner.
“I really appreciate the juxtaposition of this one, the air of violence in such a tranquil setting,” I say, fitting it over my eye as I study the frame on my right.
James spits his drink back into his glass as the children giggle and kick each other under the table. Even the perfectly poised priestess is biting her lip, her skin turning pink between her freckles.
Everyone seems amused by my comment except for Aunt Nell. “While I’m sure the artist would be flattered, I want you to look at these and determine if you saw this specific sea serpent.”
Zephyr is probably laughing to themself after warning me about the monocle. I shove it back into my dress, annoyed that they were right about the damn thing. “Yes, that is the sea serpent we encountered.”
“How are you sure?” Uncle Malcolm asks.
I point out the ridges on its back. “It had abnormally large plates running along its spine, a rubbery lining around its maw, and several extra rows of teeth.” I demonstrate that these details are present in both portraits. “These are all anomalies.”
“You’re quite knowledgeable on such matters,” Aunt Nell comments, then dismisses the maids with the portraits.
Uncle Malcolm strokes his mustache. “It’s just as we feared.”
Tense silence falls over the table. I press my spine against the high back of my chair as a log pops in the fireplace, aware that everyone is looking at me.
Did I do something wrong? Did I overplay my knowledge of sea creatures?
Darcy fills the space next to me. “This confirms my theory that the stoor wyrm is active again.”
“How can that be?” I ask. “The stoor wyrm is one of the monsters contained by the Mer-King’s rune keys.”
Darcy taps her chin. “You know the story of the rune-locked monsters?”
Oh, do I.
One of them is attached to me. My pendant has been humming steadily beneath my chemise all evening, on constant alert thanks to my nerves.
“I thought everyone did,” I say. “Wouldn’t the rune need to be drawn and broken through a blood ritual in order for the stoor wyrm to awaken from its slumber?”
“We reckon that’s what’s happened,” Aunt Nell answers. “The other noble houses are going to put pressure on us to restore an old tradition once they find out about this.”
“Seven girls to be left on the shore as an offering to the serpent,” Bijou intones. “That’s the old tradition.”
Clara lets out a pitiful squeak and ducks under the table, so only her two blonde pigtails are visible. Alice pales and pulls her daughter into her lap.
I wish I could reassure them that the serpent is lying partially decapitated on the sea floor, but I can’t. I hold that secret in, my guilt poking at my ribs.
