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Lilophea-2: Consort of the Sea King
Lilophea-2: Consort of the Sea King
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Lilophea-2: Consort of the Sea King

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“What do you mean?”

The spirit laughed back.

Lilophea felt an object drop suddenly against her leg. So that’s what the jokers were fighting about. It looked like the simplest shell, but inside it was like fire.

“Don’t touch it!” warned the spirits together, but Lilophea had already touched and burned her hand.

“What shell can burn the queen of the sea?”

“This is no ordinary seashell. It’s from the ocean,” the spirit explained.

“It is a magic shell,” the other jokers sang along. They grasped hands and twirled in a motley circle over Lilophea.

“It comes from lightning that strikes the ocean,” they chattered.

“Look!” One of the jokers grabbed Lilophea by the arm and led her to the parapet of the bridge. He pointed to a distant shore. It was an island in the middle of the sea, and pirates had just landed there. They were trying to collect glittering seashells from the shore and were falling into a kind of trap. Their hands began to burn when they touched the unusual shells.

“You see how hard it is for the easy bounty hunters.”

“But I am not a hunter of easy profits.”

“You came to the bridge without a guide, not knowing the way. You want to swoop into some rich country and steal all the treasures from the royal palace. A friend of Urun, a pirate, used to do that. He drowned her for that.”

“For once he drowned someone for a cause. He usually does it for nothing.”

“Right,” the spirit smiled at her like an old friend. “You don’t like Urun either. You’re nice. Come, I’ll be your guide.”

He looked like a court jester. Lilophea followed him for a long time before she realized he was deceiving her. The jester spirit hovered over the bridge and led her in circles.

“Do not be angry, I can tell you where to go,” he noticed how she clenched her fists with annoyance.

“I’d better look for it myself,” the joking spirit was of no use anyway.

“Orange Bridge is for Thyoria, platinum for Etar, onyx for Shahilan, pearl for your own Aquilania, quartz for Sultanite, and no bone bridge for the other side. If you want to go back under the water, you’ll have to choose the jade bridge.

“Thank you!” Lilophea didn’t know if the spirit was being honest with her, but she thanked him courteously anyway. The joker gave her a slight bow. He hovered over the bridges and watched her go.

In some ways he was right. The Onyx Bridge did lead to Shalian, and she had already checked the direction of the Orange Bridge.

Her legs were numb with fatigue. How long had she been walking here? Lilophea decided to take a little break. Below is only the sea surface. Above is only the sky. It’s crazy up here. A quiet, melodious song came from somewhere. It sounded like there was an island down there. Lilophea listened to the words of the song. There was something familiar about them.

And then she noticed a cave from the bridge. No, it was not a cave, but it was the open mouth of a whale, and beside it a beautiful girl was fussing as if nothing had happened, picking up shells. The whale was about to swallow her.

Lilophea wanted to shout at her, but the girl suddenly lifted her head and intercepted her gaze. How sly her eyes gleamed! They were black as agate. And the pastel dress and headdress were something reminiscent of the fashions of the court of Aquilania. She was Catalina, the daughter of the First Minister who had supposedly been sacrificed to the water creatures. And here she is alive. Collecting lovely shells in a simple wicker basket and even humming a song while her father goes gray with grief over the kidnapping of his daughter. Something is not right here! Lilophea squinted suspiciously as she noticed the thin gold chain that slid across the sand behind Catalina. It glittered like a strand of sunlight. But it was a real chain, albeit made of gold. One end of it disappears under the hem of Catalina’s dress, the other reaches for the whale’s mouth. Are they shackled; the whale and Catalina? Or does it only seem that way to her?

There’s a lot of weirdness here. The yellow shells do not burn Catalina’s fingers. Normally mortals are burned to the bone when they touch them, and the magic shells swarm over the unfortunate and laugh. After all, each shell is the house of a neck, not an oyster. Even pirates are unlucky when they stumble upon them. And Catalina doesn’t care! And how sharp she has become, she can see the bridge even over the sea in the fog. Catalina smiled at Lilophea with a wicked grin and said something in an incomprehensible language. At her words the green mud on the shore stirred, as if a monster had awakened beneath it.

Catalina was very different at court. Here she lived as if she were a copy of her. The sea changes everyone terribly. Lilophea would not have been surprised now to see a whole ball of octopus limbs come out from under Catalina’s dress, but nothing like that happened. Only the whale, for some reason, began to worry. Probably noticed, too, that a flotilla of ships was coming from afar.

Catalina suddenly made a sign to Lilophea to be quiet, and she herself stopped singing. There was a silence, like before a storm.

Lilophea did not want to see what would happen next, so she ran across the bridge away from Catalina with her mad black eyes, from the squeaking shells in her basket, and from the whale who suddenly roared.

After running a great distance away, Lilophea did turn around. From the bridge she could see perfectly well the whale swallowing whole ships behind her. Screams could be heard. It sounded like a nightmare dream.

Where do we turn now? It is away from the whale for sure. He can’t get to the bridge, though. And yet! Right now Lilophea would be most frightened if a distraught Catharine, who looked more like the ghost of a drowned woman than the daughter of a respected minister, were to get in her way.

The bridges diverged again in different directions. They led higher and higher, almost to the clouds. Lilophea did not hesitate to choose the middle road. Beyond the bridge of reddish hue that rose higher than all, the spires of the Sultanite were visible. They were the easiest to distinguish from other countries’ architecture. And the coats of arms with eagles spoke for themselves.

“Would you like to see your loved ones?” A harlequin-like spirit, with red eyes, was already standing in the way. It must have been the harlequin who had once drowned here. He pointed her with a fluid movement of his hand toward the bridge that led directly to one of the windows of the Sultan’s palace. Lilophea had not noticed this bridge before. It was quite narrow and slippery. Some mermaid had her hands wrapped around the railing. Lilophea carefully lifted the train as she passed her. The main thing was to make sure she didn’t grab on and drag her to the bottom. The mermaid had her hands in the mud and her green-colored long hair. From a distance it could have been mistaken for seaweed.

“Don’t be afraid!” The spirit urged her on, and Lilophea came very close to the open bay window. Here the bridge ended, and beyond the window stretched the throne room. How easy it was to get from the underwater world directly to the throne of the Sultanite rulers! It is clear why watermen are such good spies and raiders. They have their eyes everywhere on the human world. She wondered if the people in the hall can see her standing by the window. Or is the bridge with everyone on it invisible to them? It is most likely the second.

Lilophea saw her uncle sitting on the throne, her many cousins who hadn’t honored Aquilania with a visit last time because they appeared to be fiercely competing for the right of supremacy.

“Age means nothing to us,” cried Orvel, the middle one of the nine brothers, “we are special, we have no right of seniority, we have the right of the strong. There is a special talent. We must compete in it. Whoever wins will rule.”

The father-king looked at him with condescension. The other brothers murmured.

“Judging by the strength of our gift, I will rule,” Ornella suddenly appeared from behind the brothers, dressed as for a celebration in a purple ceremonial dress.

The King gave her a gracious nod. But she is a maiden! How can a woman rule an entire country? And why is this matter decided between family members and not a council of ministers?

“They say our gift is a curse, but to us it is power!” Ornella continued. “We may have been cursed originally for arrogance. Damn the sea fortune teller, but the curse has turned out far from harmful. A generation has passed, and it has become a boon. Who else but us can stand up to the water army?”

“Be quiet before you bring them here,” Orvel said, “they have windows to our world all around them. Maybe there’s someone spying on us now, too. It is someone with tentacles and fins.”

“So be it!” Ornella threw her self-confidently, trying on the crown of her long-dead mother. “Give me the power, and I will prove that I can overpower the Morgens, and even subdue them to us.”

The king nodded cheerfully.

“It is a good suggestion!”

Isn’t it a little premature for them to boast of their powers! Lilophea would have liked to ask them for help, but her tongue was numb. And how would Ornella react if the sunken cousin now stepped over the window sill into the throne room?

“Ornella!” Lilophea tried to catch her gaze, but her cousin did not see her.

“I am the best, I am the most gifted with our cursed gift, I will rule!” Ornella insisted, her chin high. Her eagle-nosed, hooked nose spoiled the impression of a graceful face. It seemed about to turn into an eagle’s beak.

A hooked nose was the hallmark of the entire Sultanite’s dynasty. Only Condor the youngest of the princes did not have it. He was the prettiest, as if he were an extra in the family. And he was not part of the general argument.

“Prove you’re the best,” the Sultanite’s king pressed his ringed hand into a fist. One of the rings suspiciously resembled an eagle’s claw set in gold. “I am waiting! You forget that a fleet from Shalian is coming for us. Release the claws! Fly to it! Attacking flocks of sheep and merchant ships is innocent fun. I expect more from you! It’s dangerous! You could get shot! But whoever defeats the commander of the fleet will rule.”

“It will be me!” Ornella and her brother Orvel said in one voice.

Lilophea shrank back. The king seemed to notice her. His gaze went straight to her for a second, and it seemed to her that his eyes had become eagle eyes. He definitely said “fly,” not “walk.” Is that some kind of metaphor?

The king’s nose seemed to lengthen a little, and gleamed in the sun like steel. Is it a play on light? Lilophea looked and could hardly believe her eyes. Ornella dropped to the floor, began to scrub the marble slabs with her nails. Her body was shrinking, growing feathers. The same thing was happening to all her brothers. There were no princes or princesses left in a matter of minutes. Gyrfalcons swarmed across the throne room.

They’re going to fly to the window! Lilophea recoiled before she realized there were many windows in the hall.

The eagles flew away, but the king stayed. So he’s normal, unlike them? You mean he’s not a werewolf? But he is the father of monstrous children, which is also not sugar. The other one would have been afraid of them; he had learned to use their inferiority to his advantage.

Lilophea immediately dismissed the idea that the king himself was only human, barely noticing the sharp feathery paws that tapped the armrests of the throne. He was about to become an eagle, too, to fly and control the bloodthirsty flocks of his heirs.

It’s time to run away from here. Here, instead of help, all you’ll get is to be taken hostage and torn apart.

“You’re right! Ornella has always been jealous of you! And now that you’re queen before she is, she’ll be glad to get her bird claws into your tender neck,” the bridge spirit whispered to her.

She could flee from a whole dynasty of werewolf eagles, but she could not flee from the spirit’s advice. He flew after her, muttering something about how eagle flocks couldn’t fly into these magic bridges, or they would tear her to pieces. She is queen of the seas now, and they hate all morgens. And these are her relatives! Her cousins from an ancient royal family actually turned out to be eagles! Well, isn’t that a surprise!

Paths to Magic

Lilothea ran as fast as she could. She turned around a couple of times to see if the eagles were flying after her.

“Turning around is a bad habit,” the spirit of the bridge immediately pointed out. “Besides, you mustn’t look back here, or you’ll get so lost that you won’t be able to get out later.”

“What ill-timed advice is it,” said Lilophea. She was furious.

“Anyway, I’m so lost that I can’t find my way back now.”

“Which way is that?”

Lilophea pondered. The spirit had succeeded in puzzling her. Indeed, where did she want to go? Is it home to Aquilania? But everyone there will be frightened that she has come back. The whole Morgens’ army would most likely come looking for her. And then there’s no way to avoid a war with them. No one will think she’s the one to blame for running away. Her escape would be the perfect excuse to attack the people of Aquilania again.

Does she want to go back to the underwater kingdom? She probably does, because there are many wonders, pleasures, luxuries. And most importantly, there is Seal. As soon as she thought about it, she saw the azure steps under one of the bridges that had suddenly appeared nearby, steps that went straight down from the bridge into the water. All she had to do was cross that bridge and go back.

“it is better not!” The spirit of the bridge held her back, and a mighty gust of rainbow wind blew through her, instantly separating her from the path to the strange bridge. “If you go, I’ll never see you again!”

“Won’t you miss me?”

“Of course I will. You should know how boring it is to wander here. All bridges lead somewhere: some to civilized countries, some to magical lands, and some to islands inhabited by tribes of savages. But spirits cannot go to any of them. They can only hover over bridges.”

“That’s sad,” Lilophea agreed. “Is that why you won’t let anyone leave, because you can’t?” She guessed.

“You should know how few guests come in here,” the spirit tried to justify himself. He looked like a disgraced little bully boy.

“You know what? If you promise to come back to the bridges in an hour, I can take you to the windows of the palaces, where the festivities are taking place. Do you want to go to a ball? Morgens love masquerades, by the way. The only way to spot them is to see their wet footprints on the floor.”

Lilophea had her doubts, but she wanted to go to the ball.

“You look wonderful,” the bridge spirit urged her on. “It is such a magnificent dress of sea foam! None of the earthlings will know what it’s made of. They’ll think you’re a particularly talented dressmaker.”

“You know so much about human manners, though you assure me you have no way into their lands.”

“Well, I hear much of what they say when I fly up to the windows where the ends of our bridges approach,” the spirit gently wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her to the path of his choice at the crossing of the seven bridges. “You’ve overheard a lot of interesting things yourself just now, watching under the window of the Sultan’s palace.”

Lilophea walked obediently where the spirit directed her, while he himself hovered beside her.

“Were these griffins really so dangerous that they could peck a morgen?”

The spirit must have known that, but he pondered for a long moment.

“I could fly over and watch them carve up the Shalian fleet, but then I’d have to leave you alone.”

“Are you sure they’ll win yet? Before the battle begins?”

“They’re nimble and predatory. I once watched them attack a galley ship.”

“And what is it about the morgens? Have you ever seen them attack a morgen floating to the surface?”

“Why does that bother you so much? Are you on the morgen’s side now?”

She didn’t know herself, so she gave a diplomatic answer:

“I’m a sea queen.”

“Well, yes, a princess from earth who was forcibly kidnapped and forced to marry an underwater king,” commented the all-knowing spirit.

“Were you peeping when I was kidnapped?”

“There are a lot of us here. Someone is always an observer, and then we all meet at general gatherings at the central bridge and share the news.”

“There’s even a central bridge? Where does it go?”

“Oh, you can’t get anywhere from there, except the heavenly realm, but it’s not always open. But the bridge is made of white gold. All the bridges go to it, and the bridge itself is a sort of circle.”

“Is it a platinum bridge?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had not yet reached it.

But the spirit had already led her across the jasper bridge to the bay window of the white marble palace, where a noisy masquerade ball was in progress.

“What kind of country is this?”

“What difference does it make? It’s so far from here to Aquilania that you wouldn’t make it in six months by ship, and we made it over the bridge in no time. So there’s nowhere to go back but to the bridge. Have fun for an hour.”

Lilophea willingly stepped over the bay window frame. Good thing the bay window was a human-size window, or she would have had to climb over the window sill. She was afraid of ruining her dress. But a sea-foam dress was not supposed to spoil. The train draped behind her, leaving no wet prints on the marble floor. How amazing!

It was beautiful all around. There were lambrequins on the walls and tapestries woven with unicorns. Probably the unicorn with a horn twined with white roses was the emblem of the country. Its image was repeated everywhere: in draperies, on walls, and even on ceilings. All around there were many floor vases with lush bouquets of roses and camellias. The lingering scent of the flowers made her dizzy.

All the guests wore masks, some even wearing masks of elves and fairies. Lilophea suddenly remembered that she wasn’t wearing a mask. Without it, she felt unprotected. She needed something to cover her face. It was bad form to go to a masquerade without a mask. Everyone would know at once that she was a stranger who had come uninvited. Thankfully, the bay window leading to the bridge is close by. Lilophea turned around and didn’t see the window behind her. How could it be? It had just been there. And now there were only so many windows leading out into gardens of paradise, full of camellias and magnolias.

The lace of foam vibrated against her body as if sensing her fright. God forbid the dress would melt and she’d be naked in the middle of the ball. But the foamy fabric only slightly transformed. A single ruffle detached from the sleeve, flowed down to her neck, then to her face, and suddenly froze on it with an exquisite half-mask.

“Did you come dressed as an underwater lady?” Someone in a dark elf mask unceremoniously pulled Lilophea to dance. “How original is it! None of the locals decide to dress up as a water maid or a mermaid. And all because the sea is near. They are afraid.”

“And they’re right,” Lilophea remarked, remembering her forays from the sea to Aquilania.

“You must be from far away, dressed as a lady of the ocean.”