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Heath released a breath as the man sat up. “It seems you’ve all been very lucky.”
“Thanks to you,” gasped the woman, her gaze still on Percival and her eyes bulging. “How did you move that boulder by yourself?”
“We all have our different gifts,” said Percival cheerfully. “I’m just glad we were able to help.”
“Gifts?” the woman repeated slowly, her eyes widening even further. “Are you one of the power-wielders?”
Heath frowned, a curl of discomfort spreading through him at the awe on the woman’s face. And it wasn’t because he felt any jealousy. Far from it. The way the stranger was looking at Percival filled him with an undefined alarm.
Percival, however, clearly felt nothing of the kind. “That’s right,” he said cheerfully, with a little bow. “I’m Lord Percival, son of the Duke of Bexley, and I’m at your service.”
The woman responded with a curtsy so low, it could have been to the king himself. Heath’s unease grew. It was possible that she was showing such respect because she knew the family tree of Valoria’s royals, and was aware from Percival’s introduction that their father was cousin to King Matlock.
But Heath doubted it. He was fairly certain that it was Percival’s magic that brought the reverence to her eyes. And it struck him that her reaction was exactly what was making nobles like Lord Niel uncomfortable about that outer branch of the royal family that was born with power. Uncomfortable enough to take action.
It also struck Heath, as he observed the glow in his brother’s eyes, that the reverence wasn’t especially good for Percival, either. He watched his brother, wishing he could put his finger on the alarm he felt at the brightness on the young man’s face. Percival had readily used his legendary strength to assist a helpless child, probably saving the boy’s life. And he had done it out of a genuine desire to help—he certainly didn’t expect anything in return. It was exactly what his powers should be used for.
So why did Heath feel more troubled than ever?
CHAPTER FIVE
“My offices are this way,” the recruit-master said gruffly once he had led Merletta across the expanse of the drop off and into the Center itself.
Merletta said nothing as she followed him down a broad street. She wanted to take in every detail of her surroundings, but she was too distracted by the feeling swirling around her stomach like a miniature maelstrom. Excitement, or just sick nerves? It was hard to tell. Her eyes bounced rapidly between the gleaming buildings, the elaborate coral gardens, and the merpeople passing all around her. She’d had no idea the Center was so big—it really was like a city of its own.
“Here we are, then,” said the recruit-master, as they approached a round and well-decorated doorway. He gestured inside. “In there.”
Merletta complied, but the recruit-master didn’t follow her. Instead he hovered in the doorway, exchanging words with one of the armed mermen who flanked the entrance.
The guard nodded curtly, turning and swimming away into the open water. Merletta turned to the recruit-master, expecting an explanation. But he just flicked his tail, disappearing down a passageway, presumably back to whatever he’d been doing with his day. Hovering awkwardly in a corner, Merletta waited for so long that she wondered if she’d been forgotten altogether.
But at last, the guard returned, scanning the lobby for her, and gesturing with his head once his eyes latched on to her form. She followed him silently, sensing that he wasn’t about to offer any explanations. He led her a significant distance toward the center of the complex, ending in a large square courtyard, flanked by stone pillars but open to the water above. Glancing up, Merletta could see the weak glow of the sunlight far above them.
“Wait here,” the guard barked gruffly.
Merletta floated in the center of the square for a few minutes, before a merman who looked to be in his twenties appeared between two of the pillars.
He swam toward her, his eyebrows rising slightly as he took in her appearance. “You’re the applicant?”
She nodded, swallowing nervously.
“Well,” he said briskly. “I’m to put you through your basic strength and agility tests.”
Merletta just blinked. She had to pass physical tests in order to enter the record holder program? She had assumed that all the testing would be focused on her mental capacity.
But the merman didn’t offer her the opportunity to ask questions.
“Lift that,” he said curtly, pointing to a small boulder to one side of the courtyard. “And place it with those.” He pointed to a pile of similar rocks.
Merletta twitched her shoulders, edging her satchel onto her back, before swimming to the boulder indicated. She lifted it with ease, swimming quickly across the space and dropping it on the pile.
“Now that one,” said the merman, his tone bored as he pointed to a larger rock. Merletta hefted it with one arm, and repeated the journey.
“Huh.” The merman grunted slightly, his expression unimpressed, and Merletta flushed as she realized he thought she was trying to show off by using only one arm. In fact, it had been an unconscious decision. She had often swum like that when bringing treasures back from her explorations, so as to keep one hand free to wield her crude weapon. Until that moment she hadn’t identified it, but she obviously felt sufficiently unsafe and out of place in the Center for her instinctive danger response to be set off.
She would have to work on that.
“Now that one.”
