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“We can’t just react. There’s more at stake here, and your dad is well aware of the protests—all of them. He’s king. There are people whose entire job is to keep him informed of such things. Let him deal with it. That’s his job. If he wants to put an end to this, he’ll stop enacting all these unpopular decrees. Did you hear he declared his birthday a national holiday? Everyone is required to give him a gift and kiss his ring instead of going to work or school.”
I stare at him in disbelief. He makes a lot of sense. The last thing I want is for him to get expelled. And my dad certainly has the ability to hold off on all these decisions he’s making. He could easily make a few changes to earn points with the people, but he’s not. It’s almost like he wants this.
“Are you ready to attempt studying again?” Bash asks.
I take a deep breath. “No, but we probably should.”
“No?” He looks at me like I’m crazy. “You actually still want to go out there?”
“Yes! But you’re right, it won’t do any good. I don’t know enough about the Ayers power to face off with a crowd.”
He puts his arm around my shoulder. “We’d better get back to my room. That’s where we left your books. But we should study somewhere else. It’s going to be distracting with the protest going on outside.”
I just nod.
“So, what subject do you need to study first?”
“Remedial magic.”
“I doubt you’re going to be in that class long. You seem to have your own brand of magic.”
I sigh. “Maybe that’s why the regular magic wouldn’t work in class? Because of the Ayers power?”
“You’d have to ask your dad about that. But your powers might be different from your family magic.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know.” His tone holds sarcasm. “Maybe because you’re our generation’s Queen Sirena. Your singing alone knocked a bar full of mermen unconscious. There’s a lot to learn about yourself, and I don’t think the Dark Sea Academy is going to be able to help you with much of it at all.”
I frown. “More than you know.”
He looks at me, concern filling his intense eyes. “What does that mean?”
I don’t want to tell him that I’ve read more about her on my own.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“I can’t talk about it here.” A few students rush past us, proving my point.
“Are you in more danger than we thought?” His forehead wrinkles.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Good.” Relief floods his face.
We make it back to his room without incident—not that it’s a big surprise. At least half the student body is outside demanding my dad’s execution when they could just as easily go after dethroning him instead.
Anger builds in me again. Boils.
“Marra!” Bash moves away from me, staring at my hands.
They’re glowing green again. “They could protest for my dad to be dethroned, but instead they want him killed! Removing him from power isn’t enough for these jerks. No! They have to demand a bloody end to his life!”
“They think he killed Tiberias, who everyone loved.”
I stare at him in disbelief. Everything takes on a green hue.
“Not that I’m trying to defend them,” he says quickly. “Just pointing out where they’re coming from. I don’t want your dad to die. All I want is for you to be happy.”
