Authors: Amanda Hocking
Instead of waiting for him to answer, I leaned over and turned up the stereo. It was
Bastille’s song “Pompeii,” one that I normally loved to sing along to, but now I just
wanted it to blanket the silence between us, so I could go back to staring out the
window and pretending that it didn’t kill me to be this close to Ridley.
We drove all night, and with the aid of energy drinks that Ridley really hated the
taste of, he managed to stay awake. I slept some in the very early morning hours,
with my head resting against the cold glass of the window, but he refused to let me
drive, so I didn’t feel guilty about it.
The name
Storvatten
when translated roughly meant “great water,” which was fitting, since the Skojare
capital was located on the northern coast of Lake Superior, not far from where the
province of Ontario met Minnesota.
When we were about twenty minutes away, Ridley pulled over to the side of the road
so we could freshen up. It wouldn’t be proper for us to meet with the royalty looking
all disheveled and unkempt. He stood to the side of the Land Rover, changing from
his jeans into a sharp suit, while I crawled into the way-back of the SUV.
I’d debated whether to wear a pantsuit or a dress before finally deciding that a dress
would probably be more fitting, and then hurriedly applied makeup and fixed my hair.
Ridley had already gotten back in the driver’s seat when I climbed into the front,
carefully so he wouldn’t get a look up my skirt. With dresses, I never wore anything
with a hem that went past my knees, so it wouldn’t restrict my movement if I needed
to fight.
The Skojare palace was supposed to be quite beautiful, and as we approached it, with
the rising sun backlighting it with pinks and yellows on the lake, it did not disappoint.
The palace was half submerged in water, with the top half sitting on the lake like
an island. The entrance was on land, a docklike walkway made of rocks and wood that
led to the front door.
Ridley stopped at the end of the dock, where a footman told us he’d alert the King
to our arrival, before taking our SUV to park in a nearby garage. As we walked out
on the dock—stretching nearly a mile out to the palace—I raised my hand over my eyes,
shielding them from the sun, so I could get a better look at the palace.
It was astounding, unlike the palace in Doldastam or the Trylle palace in Förening
that I had visited once. Those were beautiful, but they looked like mansions or castles.
This was otherworldly, with glass walls shaped into swirls and spirals that pierced
the heavens.
When we reached the doors—made of heavy iron—Ridley knocked loudly, and I stared up
at the fantastic structure that towered above us. The Skojare must’ve had a very strong
power of persuasion, so they could convince locals around here that they weren’t seeing
this majestic castle. It was translucent blue, which helped camouflage it with the
lake, but the only real way to get humans from interfering was to trick them with
psychokinesis.
“You look really nice,” Ridley said, pulling my attention back to him. His hands were
folded neatly in front of him, and he looked straight ahead at the door. “I always
thought you looked good in dresses. You’ve got the gams for them.”
“Gams?” I asked in surprise.
He smirked. “It’s a cooler word for legs.”
I gaped at him, trying to think of a way to respond, but then the palace door swung
open, and we stepped inside.
Inside, the palace reminded me of ice. Many of the walls were made of frosted glass
several feet thick. The glass itself appeared bluish, but it had been sandblasted
to make it opaque. The other walls were covered in a silvery blue wallpaper that looked
like frost.
The glass walls that surrounded the spacious main hall had been shaped to look like
waves, making it seem as if we were standing in the center of a whirlpool. The floor
was made of several large panes of glass, allowing us to see down into the pool below.
“Look at that,” Ridley whispered, and pointed to a girl in a bathing suit as she swam
beneath us.
We’d been left here by the footman who greeted us at the door, while he went to retrieve
the King. That gave us plenty of time to admire the unusual and lavish décor of the
Skojare palace.
“So good of you to make the trip,” a woman said, startling us from our admiration.
As she strode across to meet us, a length of her elegant sapphire dress trailed on
the floor behind her, and her lips pressed into a thin smile that didn’t quite reach
the ice-blue of her eyes. Her porcelain skin had been softly lined by age, and I suspected
she was in her early sixties, although she still held all of the beauty she had certainly
had in her youth.
“We’re very glad to help,” Ridley told her.
“And you are…?” She turned to Ridley, her sharp eyes now fixed on him.
“Ridley Dresden. I’m the Rektor for the Kanin.”
“Hmm.” She considered us both for a moment, then let out a resigned sigh. “I am Marksinna
Lisbet Ahlstrom. My granddaughter is the Queen, Linnea.”
“We’re sorry for your situation, and we will do our best to help you find her,” I
said.
Her eyes rested on me. “You must be Bryn Aven. You look so much like your mother.”
She smiled when she said it, but there was something about her voice that made me
believe it wasn’t a compliment. “Runa was my niece.” She corrected herself. “She still
is, of course, but since she defected so many years ago, I’ve gotten in the awful
habit of referring to her in the past tense.”
“That’s understandable,” I said evenly.
“Anyway, to the business at hand.” Her smile twitched, betraying the sadness underneath,
and she absently touched her blond coif. “Linnea is my granddaughter. A tragic car
accident left her orphaned eleven years ago, and I’ve been raising her ever since.”
Tears formed in Lisbet’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “She’s all I have.”
“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?” Ridley asked. “Was there any indication
that she might be unhappy, or that she’d wanted to leave?”
A massive door on the other side of the hall was thrown open, the heavy wood slamming
loudly into the wall, and King Mikko burst through, accompanied by his brother Kennet.
Like Lisbet, Kennet was dressed formally. He wore a gray suit made of a material that
reminded me of shark’s skin.
Mikko, on the other hand, looked like an absolute mess as he hurried over to us. One
of the tails of his shirt had come untucked, the top few buttons were undone, and
his suit jacket didn’t match his pants. But beyond that, he was unshaven, his eyes
were red-rimmed, and his hair was disheveled.
“You need to find my wife,” he insisted, his voice a low rumble. Kennet put his hand
on his shoulder, trying to calm his brother.
“They’re here to help,” Lisbet told him, speaking to him the same way one might speak
to a frightened child. “But they’ve only just arrived.”
“She’s…” Mikko shook his head, then gave me the most demanding, panicked look. “Something
bad has happened. She wouldn’t just leave. You need to find her before…” He choked
up, and Lisbet put her arm around him.
“This has been very hard on the King,” Lisbet said. “Perhaps it’s best if I take him
to lie down while the Prince fills you in on the details.”
“I want to help,” Mikko insisted, but though he was much bigger and invariably stronger
than Lisbet, she pulled him away from us without a struggle.
“You need to rest now. That will be a great help to us,” Kennet assured his brother.
He watched as Lisbet led Mikko away, and turned back to us once they’d disappeared
through the doors that Mikko had burst in through.
“The King seems to be taking it very hard,” Ridley commented.
“I’m a little surprised by his display,” I said, choosing my words as carefully as
I could. “When I met him before, he seemed somewhat … aloof.”
Kennet gave me a knowing smile. “My brother is a very complicated man.”
“What exactly has happened with the Queen?” Ridley asked. “What do you know of her
disappearance?”
“The King and Queen retired to their chambers two nights ago,” Kennet explained. “Linnea
couldn’t sleep, so she told the King she was heading down for a swim. He went to sleep,
and when he awoke at three in the morning and realized she hadn’t returned, he alerted
the guards and began a search for her.” Kennet gave a helpless shrug. “She hasn’t
been seen since.”
“We would like to speak to the guards who conducted the search, if that’s possible,”
Ridley said.
“Definitely.” Kennet nodded. “We’ll have a meeting to brief you with the details as
soon as the others arrive.”
“The others?” I asked.
“Yes. The Trylle have offered to send help as well, and they should be arriving shortly,”
Kennet said, and though his expression was somber, a light played in his aqua eyes
as he looked down at me. “But we very much appreciate you coming. I’m not sure what
we would’ve done if you hadn’t.”
“We’re always happy to help our allies,” Ridley said rather brusquely, and Kennet
glanced over at him.
“I’m sure you’ve had a very long drive here.” Kennet’s expression shifted instantly
from grave to megawatt smile. “I’ll show you to your rooms, so you can rest and freshen
up for a bit. As soon as the Trylle arrive, we’ll have the meeting.”
“Don’t you think it’s best if we start the search now?” Ridley asked. “Whether the
Queen has left of her own volition or been forced away against her will, the trail
to find her will only get colder as time goes on.”
“The Trylle are set to arrive within the half hour.” Kennet still had a smile plastered
across his face, but his tone didn’t sound pleased. “The trail won’t have frozen over
by then. Besides, this was as the King wanted it, and I’m certain you know how to
properly follow the King’s orders.”
Ridley smiled back. “Of course.”
“Now.” Kennet faced me. “Let’s go to your rooms.”
He turned and led the way out of the main hall, speaking in slightly bored tones about
the history of the palace. The main floor was entirely above the surface of the lake,
while the private quarters and the ballroom were located underneath the water. It
had been specifically built so from anywhere in the palace, anyone could access the
lake within five minutes.
As we went down a spiral staircase to the lower level, I noted that despite the recurring
marine theme, the Skojare palace was decorated similarly to other palaces. A sculpture
that appeared to be a Bernini sat in the center of the great room at the bottom of
the stairs.
“That’s Neptune and Triton,” Kennet said offhandedly as we walked past it.
The floors were marble tiles, alternating between white and navy, and the walls were
covered in the same paper as upstairs—blue with an icy sheen. Crystal chandeliers
lit the hallway that led to our rooms.
We reached Ridley’s room first, with Kennet opening the door and gesturing inside
before quickly walking away. I gave Ridley a small smile, then hurried after Kennet
to my room at the other end of the hall.
“And here you are.” Kennet held the door open for me, and I slid past him. “I’ll let
you get settled in a bit. There’s a bathroom across the hall. My room is at the other
wing of the palace.” He pointed toward it. “But if you ask any of the servants, they
will tell you where to find me.
“If you need anything,” he said, his voice low and deep, “anything at all, don’t hesitate
to find me.”
“Thank you,” I said, and he smiled at me in a way that I was sure plenty of girls
had swooned over before, but I was not the swooning kind, so I merely smiled politely
back.
Once he left, shutting the door behind him, I turned to check out my room, and I realized
that an underwater palace sounded much nicer than it actually was. The walls facing
outside were rounded glass, making me feel more like I was in an aquarium than a luxury
bedroom.
The bed and the furnishings were nice, all silks and velvets in blues and silver,
but through the windows the lake looked dark and murky. I pressed my hands against
the glass and peered upward through the water at the few rays of sunlight that managed
to break through.
A small tuft of dark green mold grew where the window met the frame. That explained
the smell. As soon as I’d stepped downstairs, I’d noticed the scent of moisture and
mold. It reminded me of a dank old basement.
I noticed a small puddle of water dripping down from a leak somewhere near the ceiling.
I looked closer and saw water dripping down the wall, leaving a patch of wallpaper
faded and warped.
Once upon a time, I was sure, this palace had been absolutely magnificent, but the
Skojare’s wealth—and thus their ability to maintain a palace of this caliber—had begun
to diminish. Since most of the royalty had gills, the Skojare were often unable to
leave their offspring as changelings. Humans might overlook an ill-tempered child
with odd habits, but they would definitely notice a set of blue gills on their baby.
If they were to reverse the situation, leaving common gill-less Skojare as changelings,
the commoners would inherit the wealth, which the royalty did not approve of. Titles
and rankings were determined by abilities, so most of the gilled Skojare were in positions
of royalty, leaving the entire system to stagnate.
Those born with gills were trapped in Storvatten, unable to live or work among the
humans, while those born without them were left doing the brunt of the work. Fishing
was the main source of income for the Skojare, with the gill-less being forced to
do the trading with the humans, and the royalty survived through insane amounts of
taxes. The ones who could leave and get jobs with the humans often did, so the population
of the Skojare had dwindled.
“Bryn?” Ridley asked, rapping on the door once before pushing it open. “How are you
doing?”