The crowd begins to rise. They stare in awe at the ruined weapon. They stare in disgust at Elder Soryn groaning in the shallow fountain, broken and defeated.
Then, the crowd lifts their attention to us.
Taren swims forward from the broken infantry line. He checks his spear, then checks the monster on the porch. He drops the iron weapon. It clatters against the marble.
Lowering his tail, he bows his head.
"Hail," Taren says.
Other Vanguard guards follow his lead. Weapons hit the floor in a cascading rhythm. The glittering nobles bow their heads. The scarred scavengers lower their weapons.
They offer no bow to a pampered Prince.
They bow in reverence to the so-called Trench Monster who bled to sing their city to sleep.
I check Kael.
He opens his eyes. Terror grips him at the display of mass submission. A creature of the dark, unaccustomed to the worship of the light.
"What are they doing?" he whispers, gripping my hand.
"I think," I say, taking his scarred hand and raising it high into the water for the Reef to witness, "they are finally listening."
The dust settles over the plaza.
A surviving Elder approaches from the ruined shadows. His golden robes hang torn. He studies the crushed marble of the central spire. He turns his attention to me.
"Prince Vaelis," the Elder says. His voice shakes. "The tyrant is dead. The High Council requires a new leader. Take his seat. Guide the Reef."
I stare at the Elder. I look past him to the glittering towers of the royal palace.
The golden light holds no warmth.
It forms a cage. A prison built on lies and poisoned water.
Turning my head, I find Kael at my side. His broad chest heaves with heavy breaths. His dark eyes trace my features, awaiting my choice.
Reaching for him, I grip his scarred hand. I interlock my fingers with his.
"I reject your Reef and the next tyrant you choose to worship," I command the Elder. The words settle across the ruined stone. "I shed the Vael. I forfeit the title of Red Prince. My name is Vaelis. I am a betta-mer, and I belong to the deep."
The Elder stares in shock.
I turn my back on him. I pull Kael by the hand toward the open ocean.
We leave the false light to rot.
The Vanguard guards mount no pursuit. They drag Soryn from the ruined fountain, pinning his arms to bind his wrists. The surviving citizens swarm the marble, desperate to tear the fallen tyrant apart. The soldiers form a living barricade, shoving the vengeful crowd back.
We dive over the edge of the High Plaza shelf. Sinking into the dark water, the House of Drift already waits for us, moving forward slowly in the shadows below the kelp line. We swim inside. Kael seals the entrance with a heavy iron hatch. The engine hums a low, comforting rhythm.
We are free.
Chapter 20
The New Drift
Vaelis
