She could see Ibsen’s anger, Wivell’s indignation, and the varying levels of shock on all the trainees’ faces. The head guard raised an eyebrow, but she pushed on. This might be the best chance she’d have to try to identify whether the head guard was part of the deceptions. It was no time to worry about whether she seemed too forward.
“I for one,” she continued, “would like to pay my respects at the graves of the fallen guards as well. Where are they?”
“That won’t be possible, Trainee,” said the head guard gravely. “They were buried outside the barrier for safety reasons. We don’t know enough about land sickness to understand whether there’s danger of the infection spreading.”
Merletta tried to keep her expression innocent as she searched his face. “But you had contact with them, didn’t you? While they were ill?”
The older merman gave a humorless smile. “You are in no danger from the infection, Trainee. It’s been months, and I am in perfect health.”
“Were you worried, sir?” Merletta pressed. “That you might catch it? I heard they were violently ill.”
The head guard’s face was grimly expressionless. “I managed to avoid such close contact,” he said curtly. “The medical team from the Center are the ones who showed the most bravery.”
“From the Center?” Merletta repeated, startled.
The guard inclined his head toward Wivell again. “Of course. The Center medics are the best trained in the kingdoms, and in such a serious case, we called for them immediately. Unfortunately, there was nothing even they could do.”
Merletta felt her forehead crease slightly. It was difficult to read the older merman. The secrecy around the guards’ burial was suspicious, but it was also believable that he had been deceived himself, rather than perpetrating the deception. She wondered who the medics were. She opened her mouth to ask about them, but Wivell cut her off.
“This is inappropriate, Trainee,” he said coldly. He didn’t show the anger Ibsen had unleashed on her when she spoke out of turn during the containment patrol, but he was clearly offended by her behavior.
“It’s all right, Instructor,” said the head guard tolerantly. “It’s natural for the trainees to be curious. We all want to learn from this tragedy.”
“You are very gracious,” said Wivell, inclining his head. He sent another cold look toward Merletta, but she didn’t care. She’d discovered one more level of involvement in the deception.
“This way, trainees,” said Ibsen. But as the others started swimming, he remained in place, reaching out a hand to grab Merletta’s arm. She started at the touch, unable to remember him ever actually laying a hand on her before.
“I have warned you before,” he growled. She watched him warily, sure he would say more, but after casting a quick look around, he released her. He contented himself with throwing Merletta a glare that promised consequences later, then swam after the rest of the group. Merletta floated for a moment, pulling in a gulp of water to settle her racing heart, then swam into the square herself.
When she emerged into the space, Merletta’s mouth fell open in amazement. Large though the square might be, it wasn’t nearly big enough to hold all the merpeople present. Spectators lined the square at the level of the ocean floor. But they were dwarfed in number by the guards, who floated above the square in varying, well-organized levels, tapering in toward the center the higher they got. Together, they formed a kind of sloped ceiling for the square, four sides reaching upward and meeting in a point at the top. It was an impressive formation.
Merletta continued to stare up at them as she swam behind Sage. She’d had no idea this many guards existed—she’d never seen so many weapons all in one place. For a moment she thought that every guard in the triple kingdoms had attended to honor their fallen companions, but a moment’s reflection told her that couldn’t be true. Some must still be conducting patrols, at the very least, and she doubted the Center had emptied itself of security. She marveled at the thought that the triple kingdoms held even more guards than this.
She was so overwhelmed by the sight that her vision actually spun. The formation seemed to play a trick on her eyes, because for a moment it seemed as though the lines of guards were moving, spiraling inward and making her dizzy. She blinked rapidly, and the vision cleared.
She looked back down until the world righted itself, then glanced upward again.
The four sides of the merperson ceiling were made of four quite separate blocks of guards. It was clear at a glance which ones came from the Center. She recognized the seaweed sashes they wore over their chests, but their expensive driftwood weapons would have set them apart anyway. Merletta frowned as her gaze passed over them, unmoving in their formations, with their weapons pointed upward.
“Why are the guards set up like that?” she muttered.
“Like what?” Sage asked, glancing back over her shoulder.
“In blocks.” Merletta gestured at the four distinct groups of guards.
“Those are obviously the Center guards,” Sage said, reaching the same conclusion Merletta had. “So I guess the others must be the units from the three cities.”
Merletta frowned thoughtfully, and Sage raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” shrugged Merletta. “It’s just, all lined up like that, they look like…”
“Like what?” Sage prompted.
But Merletta just shook her head. She had been going to say that they looked like armies facing off, but a memorial for a fallen patrol wasn’t the place to make ominous comments about the triple kingdoms’ guards.
“Is it usual for the units to be separated by city?” she asked. “I’ve never been to an event like this before.”