only handmade objects were brass braces securing the wall joints and edges. Yeri also noticed the sound of constant water drops, as if the fortress had been recently submerged and was shedding its ocean water.
“Oh, dear Nia,” a voice snapped Yeri from his observations. “Child, child, child. Gallivanting about with the local commoners, and in your condition?” The voice came from an elderly mermaid, who was being pushed in a velle by her attendant. The elderly mermaid wore a large, powdered wig, had a fake mole just above the right side of her lip, and was covered in makeup bordering on clownish. Maybe Yeri was being unfair, he never went for the more garish fashions.
“Had quite the ride, Mother.” Nia said as her shaky hand gripped the velle. She lifted herself to the seat, her fin slipping into a small catch. “You would’ve been proud of our driver, Yeri Willrow.”
The elderly mermaid’s velle squared with Yeri, who was surprised to find himself looking eye-to-eye with her. It seemed the velle was designed like a small tower, so no Merrow could be looked down upon.
“Yeri—” Nia held a hand out. “—my mother, Hydan. Mother, Yeri Willrow, our hero of the evening.”
Yeri nodded, “My lady.”
Hydan smiled at him, like a dog that had just learned to fetch. “Humling. We are very grateful.” She pointed her chin back to Nia. “I cannot believe Lir would condone such a silly excursion, against my advisement, nonetheless.”
Lir’s velle spun around. “Forgive my lapse of judgment. It seems I have again forgotten my humble position as Duke of all Eynclaene coastlands, to the detriment of your esteemed position as mother-in-law, nagger of all things great and small.”
Hydan’s eyes shrunk icily. “How dare you paint me a malagrug for loving my only chil—?”
Nia breathed heavily. “Please, Mother, do not be upset. It was my idea. I refused to stay bound to the fortress another moment.”
“Nevertheless, Nia,” Hydan said, refusing to address Lir again. “You should head straight to your chambers.”
“Lir needs me,” Nia said. “We were attacked, again.”
“Your grace,” said a merman in armored automaton legs. “Forgive me. I was being debriefed by our scouts.”
“Captain Jonn,” Lir said, “we must make way for northern Eynclaene at submersion level. And alert any other Merrows to evacuate the Eynclaene coast. We were assaulted by no less than four fouls down the—”
“Fouls, sir?” said Captain Jonn.
“Yes, yes. We must undock and move the fortress immediate—”
“That will be entirely impossible, sir,” said Captain Jonn. “My scout bore witness to a fleet of ships bearing the Dujinnin’s crimson flag along the coast line, sir.”
“The gypsies?” Lir’s eyes widened.
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid so, sir,” said Captain Jonn. “Their Nesses make for the offshore treasures while a winged—”
“Nesses?” Yeri shouted. “Loch Nesses? Here?”
Captain Jonn looked quickly at Yeri, sizing him up. “And a winged foul was seen among the crew, sir.”
“They mean to trap all Merrows along the coast and . . .” Lir’s voice trailed off for a moment. He snapped to attention. “Reinforce our fortress and alert the others. Do not delay, Captain Jonn. Our very lives might come down to minut—”
A mermaid’s scream rang. Several other Merrows ran to the chamber’s outer edge.
“Dear Mon!” Lir was fixed on something behind Yeri.
Yeri spun around. Instead of Lir’s brother and sister-in-law adjusting themselves into velles, some gelatinous substance shrouded in clothing lay in clumps at the foot of the stagecoach. The substance looked like skin, devoid of all its innards.
“Brother!” Lir said quietly. “Yeri cannot see this yet, not until he takes the oath. Get him to the main chamber, now!”
Yeri tried to get a better look at the second stagecoach, but Captain Jonn spun him away by the shoulder.
The Duke’s chamber wasn’t a chamber at all, but a pool. Yeri stood on the only dry surface in the room—a whale bone bridge spanning the breadth of the pool. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from the strange sea creatures stirring underneath his feet. They were a bit monstrous, a bit mysterious, and altogether fascinating.
A pair of mermaids broke through the surface and grabbed two silver cords. Like a harpist’s gentle stroke, they pulled the cords methodically until a platform emerged carrying two ornate thrones; Lir and Nia were the occupants.
“I cannot leave you at this hour.” Nia’s hand interlaced with Lir’s. “The headaches will pass.”
“What is all this business?” Yeri called out. “As senior driver of Fungman, Zedock and Josiah, I demand an explanation this very moment.”
“If we were to tell you,” said