“That tall building there,” Merletta said, and it was her turn to wrinkle her nose as she pointed. “It’s nothing much to see.”
“Is it strange, coming back here?” Sage asked curiously.
Merletta cast a look around her, at the familiar streets which now seemed so removed from any part of her life. “Yes,” she said. “It’s very strange.”
An angry shout from up ahead drew all their attention to the point where the guard patrol had entered the kelp farms. Most of the trainees hung back, looking apprehensive about swimming between the fronds, and Merletta realized that the first years, at least, had probably never left the cities. She, of course, knew no such hesitation. She had swum through the kelp farms—and indeed the uncultivated kelp forests beyond—more times than she could count.
She hurried forward, pushing the long leaves aside as she followed the sound of voices. The Center guards had formed a block behind a small patrol of Tilssted guards, recognizable by the bands tied around their crude stone weapons. Those guards looked frustrated more than anything, but the merman facing off against them was livid. His face was red as he shouted at three stocky mermen who were ranged alongside the guards, stone axes in their hands. Several farm laborers hovered further back, their eyes wide as their employer raged at his opponents.
“What gives you the right to come in here, and destroy my—”
“We told you,” one of the mermen cut across him, his voice impatient. “We’re under city orders to clear the site for the outer row.”
“You’re well past the outer row!” the angry one cried, pointing behind the guards, toward the crude dwellings situated closest to the start of the kelp. “You’re in my farm!”
“Come now,” said one of the Tilssted guards wearily. “You know there’s been a new ordinance. They’re adding another row of dwellings, and the water must be cleared for building to start next week.”
“Not on my watch,” retorted the farmer belligerently. “Take the space from someone else’s farm.”
“We are,” said one of the mermen with the stone axes, in exasperation. “We’re clearing space from all of the farms on the inner ring. I don’t know what the big fuss is about. We only cleared a small section.”
“It might be a small section to you!” shouted the farmer, with a wild gesture to an expanse of severed kelp to one side, “but that’s half my farm you’ve taken! And no doubt the other half will go next year, when our precious regent decides to cave to the other cities and give away more of our space!”
One of the clearers shrugged. “That’s not our problem. If you have a problem with your regent, take it up with him. We’re just doing our job, and we don’t answer to any Tilssted authority.”
“Just what I would expect from Hemssted,” the farmer said bitterly. “You care about no one but yourselves.”
An angry noise beside her alerted Merletta to the fact that the rest of the trainees had now followed her into the kelp farm. Lorraine was glaring at the farmer in evident offense at his slight on her home city.
Merletta turned to Sage, who, along with Emil, was once again at her side.
“Who’s in charge of the housing expansion projects?” she asked quietly.
Sage frowned. “I thought it was the Center.”
Merletta shot a sharp look at Emil, and he nodded, reluctantly, she thought.
“How could they be so inept as to send Hemssted workers to clear farms owned by Tilssted farmers?”
Sage shrugged. “Maybe they wanted to spare the Tilssted workers from having to clear the farms of their friends and neighbors.”
Merletta snorted. Somehow she doubted the decision was motivated by any such consideration. More likely they were too self-absorbed to know or care about such details.
“Are you going to do anything to defend my property?” the farmer was demanding of the Tilssted guards.
They shifted uncomfortably, and the clearers turned on them too.
“Aren’t you going to protect us from this madman? We’re going about our lawful business!”
One of the Tilssted guards cleared his throat. “The decision’s been made,” he said to the farmer, sounding apologetic. “There’s nothing to be gained by fighting.”
“You’re taking their side?” the farmer said, outraged.
The Tilssted guard looked helplessly to the Center guards. They had so far watched silently, but one of them now swam forward. “We won’t tolerate violence,” he said curtly. “If you interfere with these workers, you’ll have to be detained.”
“I’m supposed to just move aside and let my livelihood be taken away without compensation?” the farmer demanded.
“You heard what I said,” the Center guard replied tonelessly.