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Merletta started as her tail thumped against something hard. She looked down, realizing with a jolt of fear that the water had become so shallow that she wouldn’t be able to swim for much longer. She glanced up toward the land, a familiar frustration rising in her. She was beyond the borders of the cities—she was supposed to be free of the endless restrictions on her desire to discover. But here she had found the most exciting place she’d ever encountered, only to have a new barrier appear to prevent her from exploring it.
But for all her boldness, she had no desire to dry out. She sighed, pushing back toward deeper water, and beginning to swim alongside the land, deep enough that her tail encountered no obstacles. She scanned the shoreline in fascination, desperately curious to know what, if anything, was hidden inside those green mounds.
After several minutes, her sharp eyes picked something out on the surface of the ground. She paused, treading water as she observed it. What in the ocean could it be? It didn’t look like a plant. It looked like…but her thoughts were impossible, so she risked going shallower, her eyes straining for a better look.
She shook her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be…how could it have gotten there? But, though the stone looked eroded—even though there was no water surging around it to explain such a phenomenon—it certainly had the structure of a building. Looking further along the shore, Merletta’s eyes widened as she saw more of the same thing. It almost looked like a mertown, except that it was deserted. And fully dry. How could anyone live in such a place? Impossible to survive.
Merletta felt a strange sensation passing over her, shuddering across her skin, and rippling down her scales. It was half fear, half excitement.
She didn’t know what she’d discovered here, but she knew down to her fins that she’d discovered something.
Something big.
CHAPTER TEN
Ordinarily, Heath would always feel better after a cozy chat with his grandmother. But he sat through the jousting final in a mood of considerable anxiety. He had hoped that the snow-haired princess would reassure him. But it turned out she was also feeling greatly concerned by the tensions arising over the power-wielding branch of the royal family.
At no point in their conversation had she chastised him for his display, but Heath still felt guilty as he saw the many eyes darting in his direction throughout the jousting. Clearly news of his feat had spread, and not everyone believed the excuse he had fabricated.
He barely took in the actual competition. He had never been interested in jousting at the best of times, and he was far too distracted by the attention he was attracting. Even Percival seemed to be less attentive to the fight than usual, his eyes flicking from the crowds to his brother. Unlike their father, he didn’t look concerned. If anything, he still looked frustrated by Heath’s attitude.
Heath didn’t bother arguing with him about it. His brother might not like it, but he was starting to see the duke’s point. Without even competing in the tournament, he’d managed to create exactly the kind of spectacle the crown was clearly trying to avoid. And it only highlighted the divisions forming over the issue of power. He wasn’t sure what made him more uncomfortable—the looks of awed admiration, or the disapproving glares of the fastidious. He even saw the archery champion watching him sullenly, and he wished he could sink into the stands below him. He had never intended to take the focus off the man’s victory.
As they made their way down from the stands—having clapped vaguely for whichever helmeted knight had claimed the victory—a disgruntled muttering caught Heath’s ears.
“…typical of these power-wielders. Couldn’t stand not being the center of attention. Always having to strut their supposed abilities.”
Heath felt his ears warming. He would have kept walking, but unfortunately Percival had heard the comment as well. He turned around, a mulish expression on his face.
“Do you have something to say?” he challenged the speaker, a young nobleman, not too much older than him.
The man looked from Percival to Heath, his expression unrepentant, before sweeping off with his companion.
“Bunch of puffed-up, judgmental—”
“Just drop it, Percival,” Heath cut him off, with unusual sharpness. His brother looked at him, his face showing that he was surprised, and a little hurt.
“I’m sorry, Perce,” said Heath, softening. “I know you’re just trying to defend me. But I can’t blame people for their reactions. I’m the one who did something stupid, and I’m not sure I can criticize other people for being afraid.”
“Afraid?” Percival repeated, frowning in confusion. “You mean resentful.”
Heath’s frown mirrored his brother’s. The other man’s fear had been as clear as day to him. Had Percival really missed it?
He entertained a momentary daydream of slinking off alone, to avoid being a spectacle at the luncheon, but he knew he couldn’t do it. It would be seen as confirmation that he had done something wrong, and wouldn’t help with the crown’s attempts to convince everyone that all was well with the power-wielders. But as soon as he was released from the meal, he made his way to the castle’s enormous records room.
He had been hoping to visit the place since arriving, but had been too caught up in all the social functions surrounding the tournament to make good his escape. As he entered the quiet sanctuary of the records room, he pulled the block Reka had retrieved from the ocean out of his pocket.
He ran a hand over its edges as he walked, his footsteps echoing in the large space. He had examined it in some detail since Reka gave it to him, and he was becoming increasingly convinced that it had been worked by some kind of tool.
“Lord Heath. It’s wonderful to see you back in Bryford again.”
Heath looked up, smiling at the record keeper who was hurrying toward him. The man had always had a liking for him, appreciating his genuine interest in learning, a rarity among the young people of the court.
“I’m pleased to be back,” he said simply. “And,” he added, his smile turning rueful, “pleased to have a moment’s escape from the chaos of the tournament.”
The older man chuckled. “Well, here you’ll find a haven. I doubt you’ll encounter another soul. Not much interest in the records room when there’s a tournament happening. So what can I help you with?” He chuckled. “Here to look at maps of far off places again?”
Heath smiled absently. “Something a little closer to home, actually.” He held up the rock. “I found this in the ocean near Bexley Manor. I’m interested in the history of that area. Were there any settlements there that I don’t know about?”
