No one knew what to expect from the coming confrontation, Merletta least of all.
As they passed through Skulssted’s tidy streets, Merletta felt a flicker of outrage at how normal everything seemed. No sign of the conflict that had turned Tilssted into a battle zone.
“Seems like Tilssted was the right choice for an entry point,” Eloise said in an undertone.
Merletta nodded fervently, watching as the crowd poured through the Center’s receiving hall, observed in terrified confusion by the mermaid behind the desk. She didn’t even try to stop them—she must have recognized how readily the scene could turn violent.
When they entered the drop off, those in front pulled up abruptly, and Merletta couldn’t see what had made them stop.
“Maybe you’d better stay here,” Felix told her nervously.
She ignored him, pushing upward with sure strokes and emerging above the crowd. The drop off was lined with guards, a scowling Ibsen right in front.
“Merletta,” he said sourly, his eyes finding her where she floated over the angry crowd. “Was it not enough to steal valuable records for your own gain? Must you also raise a violent mob?”
Angry murmurs passed through the crowd, but Merletta ignored them.
“I never stole anything,” she said, her calm voice carrying clearly. “I was accused, but given no opportunity to respond.”
“You can’t wriggle out of it now,” Ibsen retorted dismissively.
“Where are these stolen records?” Merletta pressed. “I want to see them.”
Ibsen glared at her. “They’ve been destroyed, of course,” he said curtly. “They were dangerous—”
“If you’ve destroyed the evidence of my supposed crime, Instructor, I’m not sure how you plan to demonstrate my guilt,” Merletta said mildly.
“You are no longer a trainee,” Ibsen hissed. “You will not refer to me as your instructor.”
“You can’t kick her out!” someone from the crowd yelled. “You have no proof she’s done anything wrong!”
“On the contrary,” Ibsen seethed, his eyes searching the crowd angrily for the source of the shout. “She ceased to be a trainee months ago, when she fled the triple kingdoms and failed to meet her obligations in the program.”
Merletta raised an eyebrow, ignoring these details. “So, I take it you have no answer regarding the records I supposedly stole?” She raised a hand, waggling her finger condescendingly at him. “You’re not used to actually having to show evidence for your claims, are you? No one holds the Center accountable.” Her voice and expression hardened. “Well, I will. Even if it costs me my life.”
“Well said,” Ibsen growled.
As he spoke the words, a senior guard swam up. Merletta realized with a jolt that he was the very one who’d accused her on Founders’ Day.
“Guards.” He gestured to the squad at his back. “Seize her.”
The guards began to swim forward, but they hadn’t come far when Merletta found herself engulfed by a squad of her own. The crowd below her rose up through the water, surrounding her, many of them carrying crude weapons.
“Stay away from her!” one shouted.
“If you kill her, we’ll kill you!” another agreed.
“Anyone who attempts to interfere in the course of justice will be executed as well,” barked the guard.
There was an outcry at his words, and Ibsen darted forward, whispering in the guard’s ear. A look of consternation crossed the merman’s face. Merletta had the impression that he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge Merletta’s impending execution. After all, she’d only ever known the Center to execute in secrecy.
“Enough of this spectacle!” The cold new voice belonged to Instructor Wivell, who swam over the head of the guards with cold outrage. “What is the meaning of this?”
“This needn’t concern you, Instructor Wivell,” the head guard told him stiffly. “Instructor Ibsen has informed us that this mermaid is no longer a trainee in the program.”
“Has he?” Wivell sent Ibsen a hard look. “That is not his declaration to make.”
“This is no time for your obsession with following the program’s rules,” Ibsen growled at his fellow instructor. “We cannot allow this scum to—”