Chapter Three
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Brother“How badly is she hurt?”
“Just knocked unconscious,” a Britannian voice replied. Merryweather again held Aurora off the ground.
“Who is he?” Grella asked. The dismissive nod of his head suggested he did not overly care.
“May I introduce the most annoying creature the world has ever known, Sir Walter Merryweather.”
“Merryweather.” Grella rolled the word around his palette as if sampling a dream.
“Charming,” Merryweather huffed. “I didn't have to save her, you know.”
“You didn't,” I protested.
“But I would have, I was prepped and ready to go. I was you know. Thing is, you're so big and strong, it made practical sense for you to do the lugging and I the thinking.”
“And what have you thought?”
“Nothing yet, but I'm working on it. I am, after all, caring for our dear princess, so I'm clearly preoccupied. One might call it a role reversal or such like. I'm sure it's only temporary, as I can't expect you to do any thinking for more than a few minutes.”
“I beg your pardon,” I said, in my most sarcastic tone.
“You two seem to know each other well,” Grella said. He gave Merryweather a sideways glance, his eyes narrowing, but nothing more.
“Oh, yes,” beamed Merryweather despite Grella addressing me. “Jean and I are very best friends.”
“I'd term it in a looser manner.”
“Hm! I'm both shocked and disturbed by that,” Merryweather sulked. “I could have said I was your only friend, but I didn't wish to embarrass you. Now, I wish I had.”
“You are not his only friend,” Grella interjected much to my surprise. Any further comments were cut short, the Nordic prince staggering then dropping to one knee, his face etched with pain.
Merryweather looked my way and shrugged his slim shoulders. “I never touched him.”
I ignored the fool and took a half step forward to aid the stricken prince. He responded by raising his palm and shaking his head. “The orca,” I suggested.
“The orca.”
“May I see?”
Grella set his jaw and drew back his cloak. The result was sickening, and I almost baulked. His unveiling revealed a near perfect set of symmetrical teeth marks across his midriff. Every dagger-like gouge pooled with blood, the outer rim of each individual hole encrusted with Grella's life essence. He looked like a man of two parts sewn together by the world's worst seamstress.
“Good God, man!” I exclaimed.
“I fear God forsook us many aeons ago.”
“You're not wrong there,” Merryweather quipped.
Grella folded his cloak back about him almost as if ashamed of his injuries. With an effort akin to toppling a mountain, the prince got to his feet and wobbled over to his sister's side. He took her head with delicate grace from the dandy, then eased the rest of her body into his arms and rested with her in the piled snow. Merryweather did not protest and allowed the Nordic to cradle his sister in a loving embrace.
“Dare I ask how?” I enquired.
“How what?” Grella sighed.
“How you escaped the death both Aura and I felt certain you'd suffered.”
Grella pulled such a sour face I thought he should scold me for even asking. But his expression softened when he realised I meant no slander.
“Luck.”
“Ah, that clears that up then.”
I shot Merryweather one of my best foul looks. He responded by zipping at his mouth.
“I'm sure it was more than just luck.”
“Not really.”
“But Aurora said even she could not catch you, that the beast carried you far away.”
“She came after me?” Grella looked astounded.
“She did. Without a second thought, she dove under the ice in pursuit. When she did not resurface, I reasoned to have lost you both.”
“One less burden,” Grella huffed.
“Never that, Prince Grella. I believe you to be the single most underrated man I have ever met. You astound me at every turn.”
“Why was I not included in your calculations?” Merryweather held a hand to his heart. He gave a look of such abject horror, I almost wanted to laugh, but remembered at the last moment just how much he antagonised me. I remedied the slip with a dirty look. He sidled away.
“Underrated man,” Grella sneered. “Are we men, Jean? I am less certain of it with every accursed day.”
“I believe so even though at times I have doubted it above all else. If we look and think as men do does that not make us such?”
“Perhaps,” he replied, but his slumped shoulders suggested he remained unconvinced.
“You are the best of men,” came words of such quiet that even an Eternal's ears struggled to hear them.
“Sister,” Grella whispered. “You sought to save me.”
“I did.”
“Then, Jean did not exaggerate.”
“I do not believe Jean prone to such embellishments.”
“No, I suppose not,” he said, stroking long, milk-white hair from her face.
“And I believe you still owe both he and I an explanation.”
“Oh, you heard.”
“Yes,” a simple reply. “I believe we make our own luck and should like to hear how you made yours.”
Grella appeared lost for a moment. He raised his head and stared off towards the ocean, reflective, deep.
“The creature hurt you, didn't it? You, who thought himself above pain.”
“I had forgotten such things.”
“Pain is something I have lived with every day of my life.”
“I am sorry, my sister. If I could change things I would, but time is a fickle mistress and always seeks to distort one's best intentions. You have been wronged in the worst of ways, a sin I am guiltier of than most, for I knew it so from the start. I do not know what else to say.”
“You don't have to say anything. But the pain I felt as the leviathan tore away into the dark depths with you impaled upon its teeth hurt me more than anything I have ever experienced. That is no mean claim for a child with centuries of hurt. I never thought to look into your ruby eyes ever again. So, dear brother, tell us how you survived to then save us.”
“It was the being taken that shocked me, not the pain,” he whispered. “I heard the crunching of ribs, saw blood disperse into the water, even wondered whence it came. I hung in the creature's maw unable to believe how I a prince amongst men, an heir to a world, albeit a doomed one, could suffer at the teeth of one of the ebony giants. But I did, sister, I did. I almost gave up, too. It was not the anguish, but the fact a beast had achieved what I had thought impossible. A beast!” he reiterated. “It was the embarrassment that caused me to freeze, the shame.” Grella placed his free hand to his wounds as though they leaked his spirit into the Arctic night. “Everything was so still, so silent in those minutes. I hung there in the abyss waiting for it all to end, a snowflake in an obsidian night. Like a ghost, I perused the darkness expecting to join with it forever. The water pushed past, and I relaxed into the oblivion I had thought myself as an Eternal cheated of. That's when I heard the sound of motors. They saved me. Only one thing could cause such a tumultuous disturbance to the still Arctic waters: our city's most secret chamber opened to the elements. Mother was leaving Hvit. I angered.”
“And…” Merryweather pressed, his interest in proceedings suddenly piqued.
“And…” Grella mimicked.
“How did you know it was she? Why did you anger? How did you get away?” The dandy blurted question after question to an impassive monarch-in-waiting.
“I have suspected her plotting for some time. The realisation of that truth spawned my anger. And I escaped the orca by drowning it. When the creature thought me deceased it drove for the surface to shatter the ice and break free, which it almost did.”
“And…” I found myself saying much to my own foolish pride.
“I braced myself against the underside of the ice sheet and held the creature submerged. The orca required air, I did not. Extricating myself from its death grip was not so easy as we drifted ever-deeper, nor dealing with the blood loss I had suffered. But, as you bear witness to, I survived. The swim back to Hvit coincided with the Super-Zeppelin's departure and your whimpering friend's cries of anguish.”
“To be fair, some of that whimpering was Jean,” Merryweather corrected.
“Either way,” Grella sniffed, “I saw that damned ship float off into the night and cursed my impotence.”
“Did anyone see you?” Merryweather slathered, the froth sliding from his lips.
“Yes, one saw me.”
“Who?”
But Grella's features were set, his taciturn expression unwilling to reveal more.
“Who?” Merryweather begged.
“You now know as much as I,” replied the prince.
I could see in the Britannian's blood-shot eyes he was less than satisfied with affairs. But Merryweather was ever pragmatic and his anger ebbed away.
“What is a Super-Zeppelin?” Aurora asked cutting straight to the point as was her way.
“It is an airship that can depart not just Hvit, but also the planet.”
“The what!” Merryweather and I gasped in unison.
“They seek to cheat fate.”
“What fate?” asked Aurora.
“Yes, what fate?” I echoed.
“Who does?” added Merryweather.
If Grella would have answered, we would never know. At that moment his albino face paled further to a death-mask sheen, and he fell back into the soft snow.
“Oh no you don't, mate,” Merryweather bared his fangs, snatching the prince up by the scruff.
“Take… your… hands… off… him!”
The blow, more rockslide than strike, knocked Merryweather halfway into the next day, so far did he travel. Aurora hit him with such power, I expected his prone body to slide across the ice for all eternity. It did not. Instead, Merryweather spun in mid-air to land on his feet, coming to a sliding halt, and was racing back across the Arctic ice and snow in less than the blinking of an eye. His face, contorted with rage, snarled like a rabid wolf, his fists balled and ready to strike. But Aurora was quicker. She was up on her feet and braced between her aggressor and brother like a snarling she-wolf. In true Merryweather fashion, he backed down.
“I was only thinking of how we might find Linka if what he said is true.”
“Really,” said I.
“Indubitably, dear boy, yours and Aurora's wellbeing are forever at the forefront of my thoughts.”
“And mother?” Aurora interjected.
Again, a flash of something other than the man I knew assailed Merryweather's features, but he was quick to suppress it.
“She too,” he replied with composed dignity.
“I never got to ask, Walter.”
“Ask what?”
“Why you referred to her as saying she said she'd wait.”
He c****d his head to one side and replied, “I never said such a thing.”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“You infer that I lie. I cannot. I am the most honest individual you have ever been friends with.”
“You are not my friend.”
“Ouch, that hurts, Jean, twice in the space of a few minutes. Thou words doth strike deep,” he said in exaggerated fashion placing the back of a hand to his forehead. “I thought I was your only friend, anyway.”
“Not anymore,” Aurora answered, taking my hand and pulling me to her brother's side. The shake of her head was almost imperceptible, but it said more than a thousand words; I let further questions lie.
“So what now?” Merryweather sniffed.
“We leave,” replied Aurora.
“But we've only just got here.”
“Look behind you,” she said in her cool way.
Merryweather did. His disappointed, “Oh,” said it all.
Hvit was no more. The enormous hole in the ice created by the retractable roof stood filled to the brim with ocean, the city's flotsam and jetsam congealing on its surface. The sea ice crystallised upon the broiling waters even as we watched. Multiple creaking and groaning sounds soon converged to a single, sharp c***k, as of a lightning strike, and the city and all that it had stood for was lost to the Arctic waters forever.
“Bugger.”
“Thank you, Walter,” Aurora replied. “But in essence, I agree.”
“Can we move him?” I asked.
“Oh, don't worry, I'll be fine,” Merryweather said with a placatory gesture.
“Not you, you i***t, the prince. Please don't tell me we have to stay here with this lunatic?”
“We shall all travel together,” Aurora's response.
“Hooray!” cheered Merryweather. “It'll be just like going on holiday. I haven't had one of those in – well, a very long time,” he concluded.
I rolled my eyes.
“I shall take Grella,” Aurora offered.
“But you're a… you know… girl,” Merryweather quivered.
“Your point being?”
“The weaker s*x and all that. You are a most delicate flower, after all.”
“I shall endeavour to manage.”
“Ah, my own motto repeated: endeavour to manage when others falter.”
“I wish you would,” I said.
“Ooh, that hurts. And I didn't see you offering to help. She is a girl, Jean. Decorum states you are to be courteous to them.”
“I am a princess and more importantly family,” Aurora interjected.
“Family,” Merryweather sniffed with contempt, but Aurora did not bite.
“So, which way?” I asked.
“How did you know which way to go when you last departed Hvit?” she replied.
“I didn't. I just walked in the opposite direction to the water.”
“Well, that's marvellous, absolutely marvellous! Thank God you weren't allergic to ice or we might just run around in circles screaming.”
“Thank you, Walter,” I bowed.
“Oh, you're quite welcome. I couldn't have answered her better if I'd tried.”
“You didn't try.”
“But so sorely wish I had.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Aurora said.
The princess stooped to gather her brother and set off walking with him cradled in her arms.
“Where are you going?” Merryweather snapped.
“Away from the water.”
“Oh God, you're not taking Jean's advice, are you?”
Aurora did not reply. The pale princess strode off with purpose, Merryweather grumbling in her wake.
I took one last look at where Hvit's brooding legacy lay obliterated and then set off in pursuit. I was glad to leave; the city was better off sunk.