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Truth be told, neither was her educator training, although it was supposed to be. Ibsen kept Merletta as busy as possible, but it was always with meaningless tasks that didn’t further her education at all. Agner, of course, was both as cheerful and as merciless as ever in physical training. And Merletta usually spent one of her two physical training days each week conducting patrols with Freja’s squad, a task which often went until after dinner, since guards didn’t keep the same hours as the trainees.

As a result, it was some weeks before Merletta found the time to seek out the records room Sage had mentioned. It was the last day before rest day, and instead of going to training with Agner, Merletta went to meet Freja’s squad as previously arranged. But when she arrived at the usual meeting point, Freja met her with an apology.

“Sorry, Merletta,” she said gruffly. “It’s a different type of patrol today, and we’ve been specifically told no trainees are to accompany us.”

Merletta raised an eyebrow. “Specifically told? I thought I was the only trainee attached regularly to a squad like this.”

“That’s my understanding as well,” Freja admitted reluctantly.

Neither of them elaborated, but surely the older mermaid must suspect, just as Merletta did, that the prohibition was targeted directly at her.

“What type of patrol is it?” she asked curiously.

Freja looked like she wasn’t going to answer, but Felix chimed in.

“We’re going to Tilssted to try to intervene before anyone breaks any laws which will land them in serious trouble.”

Merletta looked at him in startled inquiry, and he frowned.

“You know how we keep encountering merpeople trying to wander across the barrier to explore?”

She nodded.

“Well, all the patrols are reporting the same thing. And it seems the violators are mostly from Tilssted. Apparently there’s some kind of public meeting happening this morning, not sanctioned by anyone in authority, to discuss the possibility of outward expansion.”

Merletta’s mouth had fallen open.

“That’s right,” said another of the guards. “The word is they’re talking about setting up a village of sorts on the other side of the kelp forests.”

Merletta swallowed. “It seems like I should be there,” she said hollowly.

“Merletta.” Freja glanced thoughtfully at the rest of the group, then drew Merletta aside, lowering her voice. “Do you value my advice at all?”

“Of course I do,” Merletta said.

Freja nodded. “Then I advise you to stay out of it.”

Merletta bit her lip. “Is that your advice based on what you think is best for me, or what you think is best in the big picture?”

The squad leader looked taken aback by the blunt question, and took a moment to consider her answer. But when she spoke, it was with conviction.

“Both.”

Merletta hesitated. It was impossible to tell whether Freja was just looking out for her generally, or whether she knew more than she was letting on about Merletta’s role in the origin of this latest surge of interest in the ocean outside the barrier.

At her silence, Freja’s tone became a little stern. “Whether you agree with me or not is neither here nor there. We’re not allowed to take you along. I’m sure you have other training you could be doing.”

Merletta nodded reluctantly. Freja wasn’t wrong. It was as good an opportunity as she was likely to get to hunt down the records room Sage had mentioned.

As soon as the squad was out of sight, she left the training yard, making for the tall central spire of the Center. She didn’t want Agner to see her hanging about and give her drills or something else to fill her unexpected free time.

Merletta had never entered the spire before, and she half expected to be stopped. But although there were guards stationed at the entrance, they gave only a cursory glance at her armband before returning their attention to the street before them. Merletta swam into the building, her eyes instantly drawn upward.

The lobby of the spire was an impressive sight, unlike any building she’d entered before. It stretched up so far that the space disappeared into gloom, and she couldn’t make out the ceiling. It wasn’t that it was entirely open space. The building clearly had many different levels, presumably with various offices and workspaces and who knew what else. But it wasn’t like Tish’s shellsmith tower, where each story had a solid floor, with only small holes to act as doorways to the next level. In this building, there were no floors—at least not in the lobby area. She could see doors opening off the central space all the way up, so knew there must be enclosed rooms at each level, but the general impression was one of a huge hollow center, with various merpeople swimming up and down inside it.

Suspecting that asking directions would bring further questions about the legitimacy of her presence, Merletta moved across the lobby with a show of purpose. Sage had said that the records room was at the base of the spire, so Merletta didn’t ascend through the water. She instead moved along the wall at seabed level, and was soon rewarded by the sight of a doorway flanked by two armed guards.

She glanced up at the lintel. Restricted Records, it read.


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy