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“That’s right,” said Andre cheerfully.

“Are you nervous about him doing boundary patrols?” Merletta asked delicately. “I heard the story about the guards who ran into trouble outside the boundary.”

“Didn’t we all?” said Andre heavily. He blew out a gush of water. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m worried. My father can look after himself, and he’s not one to take foolish risks. But it’s certainly been a shock for us all.” He glanced over at her sadly. “A good friend of his was one of the guards on that patrol.”

Merletta met his look, startled. Her heart beat uncomfortably quickly at the sorrow in his eyes. She almost said, which one? but stopped herself in time. “Tell me about this friend. What did he look like?”

The question was still a little strange, and Andre raised an eyebrow. “He was my father’s age. They trained together. Dark hair, silvery-blue tail.” He shrugged. “He was quite senior, it was his patrol. His name was August.”

Merletta’s heart sank. She could picture the merman in question, the one who’d seemed to be leading the patrol. He hadn’t attacked her, had told the others there was no need to shed blood. She even remembered him saying, in disbelief, that Heath couldn’t be a human, because humans were a myth. Whatever his story, he hadn’t been part of the deception that had hidden humans from the general population.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words carrying a little too much emotion for an impersonal apology. “Are…are they really all dead? What happened to them? I still don’t understand how…”

She trailed off, and Andre swished his tail slowly from side to side as he swam.

“I didn’t even know about land sickness,” he admitted, “and my father goes outside the barrier on patrols all the time. But then, why would I know? He might go past the barrier, but it’s not like he swims around at the surface looking for land. No one has been anywhere near land in living memory, before this.”

Merletta didn’t miss the glance Sage threw at her, but she kept her eyes on Andre.

“You know how it’s dangerous to spend too much time at the surface?” Andre continued, the question directed at Merletta.

She was silent for a moment. This was one of the most maddening lies, and she didn’t want to even pretend to agree. “I’ve been told that, yes,” she said at last, when Andre continued to watch her expectantly.

“Well, it’s not just the risk of dragons, or of drying out, that makes it dangerous,” Andre said. “The air up there isn’t good for our brains, apparently. Especially near the land.”

How convenient, thought Merletta. “Why especially near land?” she asked aloud.

Andre frowned. “Not sure, exactly. Something about the plants that grow on land emitting some kind of unhealthy substance into the air.”

“Then how do the humans survive up there?” Merletta asked dryly.

Andre gave her another strange look. “I suppose it’s not bad for them,” he said. “Just for us. It seems the guards spent too long with their heads above water, near the land. The air got to them, and they all fell sick not long after they got back home.”

“What kind of sick?” Merletta asked, eyes narrowed.

“It addles the mind,” Andre said sadly. “They started behaving strangely, from what I heard. Saying and doing bizarre things. Then they became violently ill, quite suddenly, and died.”

There was a horrible churning in Merletta’s gut. She had never heard such a suspicious description in her life. Her fear was now becoming almost a certainty—that those poor guards had been killed because of what they’d seen. Because of what she had showed them. The horror of that thought made her vision spin for a moment, and she passed a hand across her eyes.

It was clear that Andre had no suspicions regarding the guards’ deaths, however. His voice had dropped so low that Merletta had to lean close to hear him in the bustle of a Hemssted street.

“August was the first to go. Father never even got to say goodbye.” He squared his shoulders. “But at least he knew what happened to him, and that it was quick in the end. Not like that poor thief who the human got.”

“Thief?” Merletta repeated sharply.

Andre threw her a surprised look. “Didn’t you hear that part? The guards were chasing a thief who got caught stealing from the kelp farms, and made a swim for it outside the barrier. That’s how they ended up where they were. The thief got more punishment than she deserved, though. The human got her, and she never made it back.”

Merletta’s eyes were narrowed as they passed from Andre’s face to Sage’s. Her friend’s mouth fell open as she put the pieces together, and Merletta shook her head grimly. So that was how her role in the incident had been spun, was it? And any inconsistencies were explained away as the garbled nonsense of someone dying from land sickness.

“That looks like one,” Andre said suddenly, pointing to a bustling square up ahead. Merletta and Sage followed the direction of his finger, and saw what was unmistakably a market. Merletta pulled her thoughts in line with an effort. She’d been so engrossed in the conversation, she’d forgotten all about their task.

“What is it we’re supposed to actually do?” Sage asked.

“Observe,” Merletta reminded her.

“What’s the point of that?” Andre asked.

Merletta almost rolled her eyes. “You can learn a lot from watching people,” she said. “Often a lot more than you’ll learn from talking to them openly. Judging by Wivell’s instructions, I imagine that Ibsen wants us to hear what people are saying about the incident with Hea—the human.”


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy