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

The magic of the underwater harp

A wedding with a waterman! A wedding night alone! What a fate! Is she disappointed or is it a relief that Seal has disappeared for a long time? Who knows what awaits her alone with him. He’s not human after all, though he’s damnably attractive.

Lilophea tried to forget the voice of the rebel imprisoned behind the throne room, but it would not leave her mind.

“You could rule alone…”

It was tempting, as if it still spoke to her. It sounded in her brain, penetrating her consciousness in black and red vapors. If she closed her eyelids, it felt as if the bricked-up doors were about to explode from the negative, furious magic that was building up behind them.

But there had been no explosion that would have brought down the entire underwater palace.

In the underwater kingdom, everything was proceeding at its own pace. Mermaid maids scurried in and out, newts with tridents watched over the entrances and exits, sea dragons on the arches came to life and winked at Lilophea. She truly felt like a queen when one blue underwater dragon suddenly jumped down from somewhere on the arcade and blocked her way, not to attack her, but solely to worship her.

Was he impressed by the peculiar crown on her head, or by the fact that she had finally become Seal’s wife? The important thing is that now everyone here honors her as ruler, bows and pays her homage. Even the mighty patterned pillars, which can actually come to life as sea monsters, no longer hiss after her but respectfully sing hymns. The same change occurred with the golden faces in relief embossed on doors, colonnades, and even walls. No longer did they tease her, but only praised her beauty and virtues with monotonous singing. Apparently, they know how to suck up. Lilophea took a long time to look at the bas-reliefs of various mythical creatures, which came to life before her eyes and also gave her signs of esteem. The little golden morag on the column moved and winked at her slyly. Small multicolored jellyfish swarmed beneath her feet. Some of them had female faces. Gee, if you look closely, they’re pretty cute. Maybe she should take them as maidens. They certainly wouldn’t mind. As queen of the seas, Lilophea was their favorite.

How pleasant to be the queen of the underwater kingdom! She never felt so at ease on land. There were intrigues, spies, rules of etiquette, which could not be broken. Here she was free to do as she pleased, to sail wherever she pleased. All around is honor and respect. It is unlikely the same happiness would be if she married an earthly king or sultan. The sultan had a harem of concubines. She would have to be on pins and needles every day there, even as a sultana. Here, it’s so free and so nice. And there’s magic all around. Lilophea couldn’t tear herself away from the living arches of azure dragons. She could not fear them now. After all, she was their mistress. For the first time in her life, she felt happy. Well, almost happy. After all, Seal was still not coming back. It’s even nicer to be around him. But even without him, she felt at home here, as if this land were a foreign land and the underwater realm a homeland.

Could it be that her marriage to the Water King had had such an effect on her? Her whole outlook suddenly changed dramatically. She began to think like a morgen. Had she thought differently at first? The crown suddenly began to press against her forehead and even seemed to heat up. There was an unpleasant feeling that someone was watching her. Lilophea even turned around to see if anyone was hiding behind the arches or pillars. But there was a whole forest of them. Every shadow that flashed behind them could be a spy. Someone was following her for sure, and it wasn’t dragons guarding her in the guise of arches. The feeling of being followed was so unpleasant that Lilophea decided to return to her chambers. She would surely be alone there.

The crown was still pressing on her forehead, and Lilophea took it off. Exquisite thing! It looks like a miniature palace in the shape of a headband. And the sun with a human face in the middle seems alive. Lilophea found a necklace with the same pendant in the chests and put it around her neck. The pendant in the form of a sun with a woman’s face was appealing in some way. But not the reminder of the land over which the sun warmed. Here under the water it seemed to have fallen from the heavens to the depths.

The symbol was mysterious. One had to close one’s eyes and Lilophea could see the sun falling from the sky beneath the water, burning the water column with fire. The fish and morgens moaned at its approach. This sun has the face of a beautiful girl.

Lilophea opened her eyes. The vision burned her brain so that it felt as hot as a furnace. Somewhere above the gates of an underwater palace or on one of the pediments she had seen the same symbol of large size, but where exactly she could not recall. The sun with a human face seemed to mock her, calling her to go there without knowing where. She wanted to wander through the entire palace, like a labyrinth, until she found a symbol on one of the walls, which was alive and burning even under water.

And what if the call of the sun led her to some creepy tract or hollow or magical dungeon?

That’s it, stop thinking about it! It’s some kind of exquisite witchcraft that takes over the mind and makes you go somewhere against your will in search of something you don’t even understand the meaning of. The sun is alive, it is somewhere here, and it is calling to her.

Lilophea tried to shake off the obsession. Maybe take off the pendant, too, so as not to fall under the power of spells anymore? She didn’t want to take it off. The golden sun gently warmed her skin. It felt good to wear it on her chest. The only discomfort was that its proximity to her body gave rise to strange visions in her mind.

Lilophea was distracted when she noticed things that hadn’t been in her chambers before. Apparently they were wedding gifts. Though who had brought them? There was a heavy wrought iron chest with a dormant figure of a brass mermaid on the lid. As soon as she touched it, the mermaid opened her brass eyes and said something in a language Lilophea cannot understand. It must have been an underwater adverb. Lilophea immediately gave up trying to move the lid off the chest, and the copper figure slipped back into sleep. Next to the chest was a jellyfish-shaped candlestick with glowing snails instead of candles, something like a hookah with a mouthpiece in the form of a water snake, and a gilded harp, whose body was made in the form of a mermaid again, or some sea witch with fins instead of arms and legs, and a whole ball of sea snakes instead of hair. An exquisite piece! The strings are gilt, too. Can one play them?

Only when Lilophea touched a string or two did she hear such high notes that it was frightening. It’s a beautiful sound, but it’s too strong. You could go deaf from it. She wished Lady Moralla were here. There was someone who could play in such a way that her music would scare away even the morgens. Lilophea remembered well that during the Morgens’ invasion of the palace, it was only through the window of Lady Moralla’s music that they were somehow afraid to climb. Perhaps skilful music can paralyze even evil spirits? Or perhaps Lady Moralla was putting some light magic into it. This harp she would certainly have been able to handle. But, alas, it was Lady Moralla that no watery wanted to marry, so she and her musical talents remained on the surface.

“Don’t be a doomsayer! Who knows what will happen!”

The children’s voices sounded so suddenly that Lilophea was taken aback. Who were the newts and morages letting into her chambers? Is anyone but Seal allowed to enter without asking?

She raised her head reluctantly from the lovely harp. Strangely enough, standing beside her were two pageboys, boys about twelve years old in blue livery with bouffants. Is this a dream? Where did the shepherds come from? Lilophea did not immediately see them. They are not children, but half morgens. One boy has the left side of his body like a human, and blue scales and fins growing along the right side. The other, on the contrary, has the right side of his body like a human, and the left side like a fish. One cheek has pale skin like a drowned man, and the other has blue scales. What a miracle! Oddly enough, the shepherds looked pretty, though ominous. The scales gleamed on both halves of their faces as the boys grinned, showing needlepoint teeth. And they had long tongues, like toads.

“Where did you come from? Did Seal send you?

The two negative nods of the head were like reflections of each other.

“Are you from Urun?”

It was a denial again. The fish-boys were twins not only in appearance, but also in gestures, repeating each other minute by minute.

“So why did you come? Who let you in? Who called you?”

“You called us!”

Their answer was baffling. What did they both mean? Lilophea’s gaze fell involuntarily upon the strings of the harp. She had only touched two of them, it seemed, and the two henchmen appeared. And what would happen if the rest of the strings were touched.

“What do you deign?” The voices of the blue henchmen were like underwater echoes in a labyrinthine palace. “Have you any orders? Shall we sink a whole fleet for you? Ravage the coastal villages with the waves? Summon the kind of storm that would tear apart an entire nation?”

Lilophea was speechless with surprise. Half of the children’s human faces expressed absolute innocence at such cruel questions.

“What are we offering our services? You can do it all yourself, after all. You have the harp. We can only instruct you. Tell you which strings to touch to destroy the land world and harm no one underwater.”

They were both already behind her. Their half-fish, half-human mouths pressed against her ears on either side and began whispering such ghastly promises that Lilophea’s nerves failed.

“Go away! Go now!” She shouted at them. “I don’t want you both out of here in a second!”

She saw the look of wild disappointment and even rage flash across their faces, but they swiftly put on a mask of polite indifference.

“It is your command. You are our new Lady and heiress to the throne of the ocean.”

In a moment they were gone, as if two mirrors had been removed. Only ripples twitched in the water where they had stood. One wonders what they meant by such loud titles. They must have been mistaken. She seemed to have become the queen of the seas, not the ocean. Well, what can you take from them? Stupid kids! Half fish, too! Surely those kids must be at least a few hundred years old by now, if not millennia.

Lilophea didn’t want to touch the harp strings again, but somehow it came out on its own. Her fingers ran awkwardly over them, and again the beautiful but crushing music sounded. Lilophea was terrified that the entire underwater palace was about to collapse from her, but nothing of the sort happened. However, the mirror, which habitually showed the surface world, suddenly lit up excitedly, reporting some tragic events on earth. And the face of the morgen, cast on the body of the harp, suddenly became so ominous. The dainty statue’s lips stretched into a malevolent grin. Lilophea felt even creepier. She released the harp from her hands, but it did not fall, but sank smoothly to the console, as if it had been there all along.

“What’s wrong?” Lilophea took the mirror and gasped. It turned out that a flood had just happened. It was in her native Aquilania. The sea had burst its banks with such force that it not only extinguished the coastal fires and overturned all the ships in the port, but also tore down part of the fortress wall. And it happened as soon as she accidentally played the harp. If there is magic in a harp, it is terribly evil. Who would think of presenting it to her at her wedding? Whoever thought of giving it to her at her wedding, and it turns out he meant evil.

“You just don’t know how to use it,” came a squeak from one of the fish henchmen, who was no longer there, or someone else. Lilophea couldn’t believe it was the figure from the harp body that had spoken to her.

“Play softly if you don’t want disasters!”

Lilophea no longer wondered whose voice was instructing her. She watched in the mirror the damage that had inadvertently been done to her native shores. Many of the ambassadors’ ships sank or were reduced to splinters, crushed by the shattering waves. The swells that covered the shore took the form of greedy, destroying hands of sea giants. What is this if not wicked witchcraft?

“Stop it!” It was the voice of Urun, who had suddenly burst into her chamber in a whirlwind. “Play no more, my lady! Please!”

Remembering that she was now queen, he gave a low, servile bow.

“Do not be angry with your servant!”

Has he really become afraid of her? This came as an unpleasant surprise to Lilophea. And it was all about the harp, someone had left it here. She shouldn’t have touched it.

“What had I done?” She could hardly understand it herself.

“Your playing just flooded a part of the Etar,” he reported. “I’ve just come from there.”

He’s hurtling through the water like a whirlpool. How can you be so fast?

“Is that it?” Lilophea was glad to see it this time. Etar is the very state where they wanted to exile her as a concubine in a harem. Now she could get even with the local sultan. How fortunate that she had found the harp! If only she’d known what she’d do and not have to go after Aquilanía. “It would be well if all Etar were sunk. Is there a chance of that? Or do we need to add magic notes?”

“We cannot, my lady!”

“Can’t what?” She suddenly remembered that in addition to the Sultan and the harem, there are also ordinary people living there. Urun was referring to them. Since when does he care about people?

“You cannot touch Etar, Madam?”

“Why is that?”

“There is an agreement,” Urun lowered his head guiltily.

“Ah, that’s it… your pacts between Morgens and Men. Do they really have that much meaning and magical power?”

“It is not to you, of course, but to us.”

“And what’s so special about me? That I’m from earth?”

This time Urun was silent.

“By the way, where is my husband?”

Urun shuddered when he heard her call Seal. Was he angry that she was actually calling herself queen that way, or was he just jealous?

Urun’s tentacles and tail moved nervously. He wanted to do or say something, but he hesitated.

“Is Seal still in the Empty City?” That’s what I think Urun himself called the place they were going to in the conversation. “Shall I go there too? After him! He is my husband now, after all. I have a right to him. Especially it is today. And if he decides to sail away from me, I have to go with him.”

“You shouldn’t do that!” Urun’s eyes suddenly twinkled dangerously, like the points of two knives. “No one should go there.”

“But you called your king there. Why, I wonder?”

“Forgive me! I must go!” Urun bowed out so quickly that all she could see was the swirl of water turning into a whirlpool where he was standing. The water swirled in a column-like spiral for another minute.

Lilophea was left alone. What to do now? Wait for Seal? Or take another stroll through the palace? She no longer wanted to experiment with the dangerous harp, but it suddenly began to play itself: softly, quietly and melodiously. The sound made her want to fall asleep. Lilophea was frightened that more disasters were about to start, but the mirror showed nothing more of the sort. The two boy fish didn’t appear again, either. But a golden-colored creature that looked either like a jellyfish or a baby suddenly whirled up behind her. Where did it come from?

“Do you want to see the Empty City? Or walk across the Rainbow Bridges? Or see the drowned men tied to the anchors of sunken ships? One of them comes to life as soon as you touch the locket around its neck and tells you the future. Do you want to go and ask him what your life together with the water king will turn out to be?”

Lilophea wanted to turn around and get a better look at the creature, but it held her back, entangling her neck and shoulders with thin golden tentacles.

“I am of the harp,” it confirmed Lilophea’s hunch. “And you are my mistress now. Not because you are the new Queen of the Seas, but because the harp belongs to you from now on. As long as it is yours, I must serve you.

“And what can you do for me? Destroy whole villages on the shores with your music? Sink cities?”

“I don’t do that?”

“Then who is?”

“They are other strings.”

“And what do you do?”

“I am good for my master or mistress, depending on who owns the harp.”

“What kind of use is it?” Lilophea found this suspicious, especially as the golden tentacles gripped tightly around her neck. She almost suffocated.

“Well… I can give advice. It is quite useful advice. I also know all the ways under the water and can take you to the most curious corners of the underwater kingdom. And I can also put you to sleep with my music.”

“Are you a harp spirit or something?” Lilophea guessed. There was a long silence in response.

“You must be sleepy now,” the golden-haired spirit remarked. “My melody makes everyone sleepy. I can put a whole army to sleep when they’re about to engage in battle, or put all the guests at a noisy banquet to sleep. It is as soon as I play.”

The luminous tentacles began to run slowly through Lilophea’s hair.

“You’re beautiful!” The spirit remarked excitedly. “I’ve never had such a beautiful queen before. You make all our amusements more pleasant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t live alone in a harp.”

The spirit was right! She’s already seen two pageboys. The words froze on her tongue as the tentacles tugged at her hair until it hurt. The spirit must have decided that she was not only the prettiest, but also the silliest of his masters, and began to play with her like a doll.

“Ouch, it burns!” The tentacles accidentally bumped into the crown in Lilophea’s hair and immediately released it. But to turn around and get a better look at the spirit was useless. He had already jumped back into the harp. He’s quick! And he is cunning, too, by the looks of it.

“We’ll talk again when you wake.”

Lilophea felt very sleepy. Perhaps she should sleep, as the spirit had advised. The harp shone and played by itself. The melody was marvelous. Along with it came a low voice that hummed, almost whispered something in an unfamiliar language. It was probably a sea dialect spoken by the Morgens. The morgen’s figure on the body of the harp seemed alive. For some reason it reminded her of the mermaid ship and the carved masts on it. What did the figures on that ship and this harp have in common? But there was no more strength to think. The melody penetrated deep into her consciousness, conjured up sparkling illusions, and Lilophea felt herself falling asleep.

Bridge Labyrinth

Again she dreamt of a ship, with something bursting out of the hold in a swirl of dazzling golden light. Someone’s voice was calling in her dream. Lilophea woke up, struggling to think where she was now.

Certainly she was not on a mermaid ship, but right in the underwater kingdom. She was in the king’s bedroom, where Seal was still gone. But the bed here is as soft as a featherbed, though made inside a dead, empty shell. Breathing underwater was as easy as on the surface. Lilophea was no longer afraid that when she woke up, she would suffocate. Who would have thought it would be so easy to live underwater? The magic harp played itself for her. Without the help of the mermaid Yanin or any of the other tailed court maids. The gentle melody made her sleepy. A light golden glow spread around the harp strings. It really is better here than on earth. A voice of conscience squeaked a little: only a traitor not only to her family and friends, but to all earthly civilization, which the Morgens yearn to destroy, could think so. But that is exactly what Lilophea thought!

“Hello to you, queen of the underwater world!” The pesky spirit once again hopped out of the harp and wrapped itself around Lilothea. Either it did not know such addresses as “good morning” or “good evening,” or did not know what time of day it was. In the underwater kingdom it was indeed difficult to tell, for the lighting here was always dusky.

“What will it be? Shall I entertain you with a game?” The spirit kept up.

“What else can you do?”

“Well,” he was blatantly sly, pretending to think, “I can show you corners of the palace you can’t even imagine.”

“I’m sure you can. The palace is as big as the bottom of the sea.”

“There are many nooks and crannies that Seal would never allow you to see, but I can show you.”

“Now that’s interesting,” Lilophea was wary.

“You know, for example, the way to the Labyrinth Bridge, where you can get to any land kingdom while wandering over the sea.”

“It’s somewhere on the surface,” she remembered going on a date with Seal on such a bridge and then finding herself underwater. The end of the bridge rested on the shore of Aquilania.

“The bridge could be accessed from a hall with a picture of the sun on the door.”

“I don’t believe it!”

“Why don’t you check it out?” The spirit began to nudge Lilophea. It gained density, coiled itself around her, and almost pulled her out of bed. It was like a strong gust of wind that makes you move against your will.

Lilophea wanted to scold him, but thought it was useless to swear at spirits. Not being material, they hardly realize that they can hurt anyone.

“Hurry up!” The spirit urged. “You must hurry or Seal will return and our plan will be over. Go to the door with the sun and do not forget to take your harp with you.”

“What’s that for?”

“Silly girl, I can’t fly after you if the harp stays here!”

Oh, that’s it! So he’s not free, he’s chained to the harp. So his arrogance is just a pose. The spirit is not as strong as he wants to be. Well, there’s no need to obey him then.

Lilophea also decided to show her character — like a naughty girl, she showed the spirit her tongue and rushed to find the right hall herself.

“Wait, what about me,” the abandoned spirit yelled on the threshold of the bedroom. He couldn’t seem to cross the threshold into the room where his harp remained. Lilophea turned over her shoulder and shouted mockingly:

“I will check your words and come back. Don’t be bored!”

The harp music behind exploded with mournful notes. So be it! She had had enough of the spirit. She wanted to feel free. Though how could she be free if she was a prisoner of the undersea kingdom? Perhaps after being in the same room with a gossiping spirit for more than an hour, she would feel free, even in a dungeon, if the spirit weren’t there. It seems that the music of the harp is pleasant, but the spirits that accompany it strongly resemble possessors. Once you listen to the harp, you are in their power. They beckon, press on consciousness, hypnotize. It is much more comfortable without them.

The water dragons, which at first might have been mistaken for the moldings on the pillars, crawled overhead and slowly followed Lilophea, as if they were supposed to be her bodyguards in Seal’s absence. Though what was there to guard the king’s wife from in his own palace? Is it no coincidence that Seal is so overprotective? Could that creature who yelled angrily at the wedding be dangerous? Or was it the one imprisoned behind walled-up doors in the king’s chambers that should be feared?

Right now Lilophea didn’t want to think about that. She hurried excitedly toward the doors with the bas-relief of the sun on their doors. The dragons behind her immediately lagged behind, as if the sun with a woman’s face frightened them. Turning around, Lilophea noticed that they were crawling away into the shadows, hissing as if the image of the sun was scorching them.

Something was not right here! The sight of the sun with its graceful girlish face captivated her herself at first sight. Such beauty! Lilophea ran her finger over it, and that face did not come alive to bite her. It was motionless and beautiful.

The doors opened easily. No key was needed. The amulet Lilophea wore around her neck was reflected in the empty eyes of the sun. For a moment it seemed like it was the passageway to the hall, where a measured glow poured over it.

No sun was imprisoned within. But it was as bright as daylight. In the center of the hall there was indeed an arch, like a bridge, with a parapet decorated with stone dolphins. The ends of the arch rested on the floor so that they could be climbed up like a bridge. Lilophea decided to try her luck. She easily climbed up and suddenly found that the bridge-arc was much larger and wider than she first thought, and its size was not limited to this hall at all. As she climbed higher, the bridge bifurcated. Then it parted. Lilophea was dizzy from the height to which she had suddenly climbed. The hall, it turned out, had no ceiling. Instead, water masses bubbled overhead, and after a while she managed to breathe in clean air. So it really was possible to go to the surface over the bridge! The harp spirit did not lie. It felt as if she were ascending to the very heavens. The ends of the bridge diverged in an unexpected tangle of new paths, making it possible to go farther and farther. The paths kept multiplying. Lilophea picked a path at random and found herself on a wide, azure bridge, with puffy clouds hanging low over the parapet.

And where was she? She couldn’t see the coast from the bridge. It was high and cool. The air is somehow damp, even foggy. The sea is raging under the bridge, and the clouds are peacefully napping above. She reached out her hand and touched one of them.

If she had known from the start that the bridge from the underwater palace led straight upward, she would not have tried to escape the first time she swam away from Seal to the surface. It turned out to be a lot simpler than that. You stepped onto the bridge, and there you are at the top. And the bridge also diverges in different directions in a tangle of branching and branched bridges and bridges. Each of their ends must rest on the shore of some state.

Here should be the way to Etar, to Sultanite, and home to Aquilania. But how do we know which one leads where? All the bridges are different shades, like a rainbow. Only a rainbow doesn’t have that variety of tones. All the bridges have different borders: seashells, corals, gold, silver, big pearls. Lilophea turned sharply, seeing a bridge with a railing made of dead men’s bones. It felt like it led to some creepy place. It was the realm of death itself, maybe. The sight of it sent a chill down my spine.

A network of bridges stretches in a labyrinth over the sea. There seems to be no way for humans to come here, except for those unfortunate ones who are lured here by the spirits of the sea. And why do the paths across the bridges give up to the Morgens, who can sail to any shore on their own? There lies some mystery here. But Lilophea was not about to become a pathfinder now. All she cared about was choosing the right direction to go. So she rejoiced when she spotted some boy at the crossing of the bridges. Probably he is the local sentinel. Winged fish, hovering over the parapets, whispered something to her about crossing guards. They were probably the place to turn for help if she got lost on the bridges.

Lilophea called out to the boy, but he did not turn around. She had to get as close to him as she could. He stood still at the exact spot where dozens of bridges, both wide and narrow, diverged in different directions at once. Some of the bridges went upward. Some went downward to the water.

“Which bridge leads to Aqilania?” She asked, and then hesitated. For to go back home would mean to leave Seal and all the wonders of the maritime kingdom. Without the wonders of the underwater world she could still survive, but to forget the underwater king… it was beyond her. His voice, his words, his beautiful face, his golden eyebrows and eyelashes… and also his blue skin and tentacles! But there was no need to think about the latter. What matters is not the monstrous thing about the king of the sea, but the feeling that he is the closest being to her in the entire universe. Only with him can it be good. And then there’s the feeling of being alone when he’s not around. Why on earth would he leave her alone for so long, giving her the opportunity to obey the evil spirit of the harp and throw herself into adventures? If Seal had not been away, she would not now be traveling through the maze of bridges over the sea.

The boy answered nothing. Lilophea had to touch him by the shoulder. Then he turned around, showing a creepy fish face with scales on it.

Lilophea couldn’t think of anything else to ask him, and standing next to him became unpleasant. She picked her own bridge at random and ran forward. The puffy skirts rustled around her legs like sea foam.

It took a long time to run. Without knowing the direction, it was difficult to navigate. Sometimes the bridges crossed each other, sometimes they had no railings, and it was scary to walk across them. The risk of falling back into the water and possibly being eaten by sharks was too great. Though shouldn’t they also respect the queen of the seas? Or would hungry sharks not care about the queen or the common food?

“Sharks are not the scariest thing that lives in the sea, sailors often said. Now Lilophea knew they meant morgens.

One of the bridges, orange like a flame, led her to the banks of Tioria, where the waterfalls of fire flowed. The bridge ended at one of those waterfalls, flashing a sheaf of red sparks from above. It was frightening to even go near them. One spark flew very far away and burned Lilophea’s palm.

“Careful, Princess of the Sea,” an orange-haired woman shouted at her from the waterfall, her skin orange and flame-colored clothing merging with the water. Her skin, too, was as orange as fire. And she seemed to have wings of fire fluttering behind her. She was probably one of the firewomen who lived in the waterfalls.

She mispronounced Lilophea’s new title, but there was no way to correct her. Sparks from the waterfall flew in all directions. Lilophea turned and ran away.

From the orange bridge she turned onto the malachite bridge. This one led her to deserted, cold shores where nothing grew.

There was a herd of white horses galloped by the water’s edge. No, they were not horses, but horses of sea foam. Only after a closer look one could see that their hooves merged with the foam of the waves. Such horses can carry riders only on water. They cannot jump onto dry land. But one unusual horse was galloping on the sand. It had no saddle or bridle and its skin was as white as milk. Not a speck, not a grain of dirt. Only magical horses could be this pure color. Lilophea was not mistaken. In a moment the horse turned into a boy with sharp ears and wild eyes. It was exactly the sort of creature she and Ornella had listened to stories about by the fireplace as children. It is a spirit who seduces girls by pretending to be a submissive horse and takes them into the sea to drown them. One story she heard as a child was of a fisherman’s daughter who was left alone for the night and a spirit came to visit her. At first she took him for an ordinary young man, but when she saw that he had sharp ears and fish eyes, it was too late to save her.

The young man on the shore looked enticingly at Lilophea standing high on the bridge, and his unusual eyes sparkled slyly, as if informing:

“I would love to drag a beauty like you down to the bottom, but I see someone else has already beaten me to it.”

Lilophea groaned as she looked down at her hands on the parapet. Webs sprouted between her fingers. They looked like a lace of sea foam. She might as well become a mermaid herself, or worse, a creature like Urun and his morgen armies.

Lilophea moved her hands. The webbing was tight, but not uncomfortable. Too bad she didn’t have a mirror with her right now to look at her reflection. Had her face changed, resembling the creepy faces of the Morgens?

A bright yellow pair of winged fish, as if hearing her wish, held the mirror up to her. The reflection was pleasant. Nothing had changed in her face. True, the mirror itself resembled water, inserted by a wizard into a coral frame.

And where does the bridge of coral lead to? Lilophea had a long choice between it and the Jasper Bridge. Finally she saw a bridge of amber looming up ahead like a mirage and she turned there. It didn’t go straight ahead, but took sharp turns, spiraling, and was flanked by many circular bridges that led nowhere. There was some secret in them.

One narrow bridge closed in a circle over the whirlpool below. At the railing of the bridge there were countless mermaids. Their slippery bodies twisted against the railing like green bas-reliefs. The mermaids all had a dirty, swampy look, as if they had just come up from the mud. And their eyes were sparkling, wild. Lilophea was afraid to approach them. They did not even greet her, though they noticed that the queen was before them.

“Do you know which way leads to Nereida’s grotto?” Lilophea turned to them first.

“Why would you want to go there?” One of the mermaids answered, and the others began whispering:

“This is the very grotto where Nereida keeps treasures from sunken ships mixed with the skulls of their victims. She does not know which is more precious to her: the treasure or the bones of those she drowned.”

Could this be about Nereida? Lilophea grew wary.

“She is not evil at all.”

“But she will drown you if you come near her,” the mermaid, who had been the first to speak, warned her.

“I can’t be drowned, I’m the queen of the sea, and I can breathe under water,” said Lilophea, faltering as she realized how presumptuous that sounded. She only breathes underwater as long as Seal lets her, and he might get angry if she escaped in his absence. But the mermaids didn’t laugh in unison, only looked more closely at Lilophea. Their eyes glittered.

“She’ll drown you for sure. You’re her rival.”

“No, I’m her friend — or rather, I was her earthly friend before I married the underwater king, which means I broke the promise I made to her. Nereida asked me not to even go out with Seal.” Lilophea bit her lips. Perhaps the green mermaids were right.

“Nereida doesn’t have any girlfriends, and she never has any,” they confirmed. “Because she never wants to share anything with anyone. Remember that! If you have anything she wants, you are her sworn enemy. And she drowns her enemies, even if they are mermaids. She knows how to do that.”

Are they all afraid of her? Their voices became so sad that Lilophea backed away. It sounds like a mournful chorus.

The bridge itself glistened, and the green bodies of the mermaids curled around it like seaweed. Lilophea turned and walked away from them.

“Keep away from Nereida,” the mermaids’ warnings boomed behind her. “We all stay as far away from her as possible. Once you get too close to her, bad things happen.”

Trouble has already happened. Lilophea realized she was lost forever. Either the spirit of the bridges led her around, or the parapet of bones of dead fish, mermaids and even human skulls stretched so far that she always had to stumble on it. Dead fish came to life and tried to bite as soon as you put your hand on the parapet.

How to get out of the maze? No matter which shore Lilophea approached, it turned out to be either unfamiliar or dangerous. In any case, it is dangerous to go to the shores that you do not know, and where there are no your family and friends. You could easily be enslaved by the same pirates, or taken hostage by the local rulers to demand a ransom from your father. Lilophea was afraid to go ashore in a foreign country. She’d be lucky if she strayed into any familiar lands.

It is better not to think of the bridge to Etar. It must be of white gold, for its ruler is fabulously rich.

As she wandered through the labyrinth of bridges, Lilophea saw sunset, dawn, dusk, and night. Either it was day or evening in different parts of the world, or she had been wandering in the above-water labyrinth for twenty-four hours. All around there was only sky, water, and some kind of ringing, as if a mermaid’s pack was singing out of the water.

She wished she could meet at least one person. Not a spirit, not a monster, but a mere mortal to talk to.

Lilophea’s dream came true some time later. A fairly ordinary-looking guy sat huddled at the intersection of the bridges. His face was certainly not fishy. He wrapped his arms around his head as if it were splitting in unbearable pain.

“Who are you?” Lilophea leaned over him and noticed that his eyes were swollen with tears. He seems to have been lost himself, and has been looking for a way out for a long time. He probably hadn’t eaten anything in weeks. His clothes were hanging off him like hangers. Soon he would be a skeleton himself. Probably that bridge lined with bones is made of the remains of those who became prisoners of the maze of bridges.

“I went after the princess the waterman had dragged away,” the boy confessed, looking at Lilophea with vacant eyes. He didn’t recognize her, but he reminded her of someone.

“And that’s how you ended up on the bridge?”

It was as if the boy didn’t hear her, talking about something of his own. His pocket vibrated strangely, as if a fish were hiding in it.

“I cut off a kraken’s claw with a harpoon,” the fellow drew out and pointed. So that was what was moving in his pocket. The claw was creepy, and it crawled up on its own, trying to claw at Lilophea’s feet.

“And the Morgens didn’t tear you to pieces for it?”

“They have no right to crawl on the bridge. It is the decree of the master of the bridge.”

“Is it Seal?”

“I don’t know.”

A severed claw was biting him, and he didn’t even notice. Lilophea wanted to console him, but all she could think of was false bravado.

“Come on! I will get you out of here. I know the way. Or someone will show me the way.”

“They won’t!”

“They wouldn’t dare. The Water King owes me for my company.”

“I cannot leave here.”

“Why is it not?”

“I’m looking for the princess. She’s definitely here. I saw her on this bridge from the shore, so I jumped on it myself, bypassing the kraken. I’m not leaving until I find her.”

He looked at the compass. The device was as useless here as the kraken’s severed claw.

“I love the princess,” he groaned.

“Which one is it?”

“Lilophea. I am looking for her.”

“But she is in front of you.”

“No, you’re a spirit woven out of thin air by the local jokers.”

So it is true that they do lose their minds on this bridge.

But it’s a good way to get to Shalian and Etar. So the winged fish were talking to each other as they hovered over the parapet. Lilophea listened to them. She spotted the jester spirits the boy had been talking about.

They were fighting, hovering over the bridge. There was a whole flock of them. Only one spirit, sat on the parapet of the bridge.

“Look, the queen is coming,” he proclaimed as he spotted Lilophea from afar. “Let us sing to her our hymn to all the kings of water and earth.”

And they sang, so she had to cover her ears. Their voices rumbled in her head.

“She is a queen, not a king.“Sing gently,” the same spirit urged. “Don’t frighten her. She has not come to maneuver us. The wives of rulers are much nicer to talk to than the kings themselves. And through them you can control their husbands. We usually do that. We know a lot of serenades to titillate women.”

He fluttered over and plucked a ribbon from her hair.

“Give it back!”

“And will you kiss me in return, Queen of the Seas?”

He looked like a teenager, but his eyes were wise and old. He looked as if the ancient philosopher had been trapped inside a child’s body, and now it was too small for him.

“Are you sulking? Well, you’re not the only one. There’s the lady of the oceans.”

“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.”

“Am I an ocean lady? I’ve never been near an ocean,” she nearly said, “Never sailed,” but she was quick to realize it.

“You look like an ocean lady!”

Fragments of a dream came to mind at once: the mermaid ship, the glow from the hold, the two joined maidens. Lilophea felt dizzy.

“Home calls to you,” her dance partner admonished. “Your home is definitely in the ocean.”

“You’re confused about something.”

“I never get confused, that’s why I was made mentor to the local heir. I have the gift of knowing everything about everyone. I catch all enemies in my net.”

Lilophea has only now noticed that his fingernails, sharp as black blades, are not fake, but very natural.

“I am like a spider, entangling the states in nets of darkness, catching all attackers and even ambassadors in them. To a strong power, everyone is an enemy.”

Who has she become entangled with? She should have found a less aggressive partner to dance with. But did she have a choice? She doesn’t know anyone here, and everyone around her is wearing masks.

Lilophea noticed a long wet trail following one guest in a long garment of astrologer. So beneath the cap and mask hides the ugly head of a morgen.

“Shall I tell you in confidence?” The partner put his arm around Lilophea’s waist and pulled her toward him. “I’m going to take over soon. You want to keep me company on the throne. I am not the king of Aquilania. Oceanids are welcome. I find oceanids much better than capricious elves, proud fairies, or ordinary earth women who grow old with time. You oceanids are the standard of beauty for me.

And what makes him think she’s from the ocean? Well, let him think what he wants. Lilophea wasn’t going to tell him about herself. She was only here for an hour. She needed to entertain herself, dance, and then go back to the bridge. Her legs were tired from dancing. This had never happened to her before. Apparently, being underwater had taken its toll on her earthly abilities. It was easy to be frisky on land when she hadn’t yet gotten used to the ease and freedom of floating in the underwater realm. You don’t have to move your feet there at all, the water current carries you forward by itself. In general, both walking and dancing had become unaccustomed to her. Lilophea considered herself almost crippled by it.

“It is wine!” Lilophea noticed decanters and goblets on the tables and, forgetting all manners, she rushed to pour herself some wine.

“Be careful, it’s strong!” Shouted after the black elf, but she did not care. No wine on the seafloor, and such a variety of vintages here. She’d had three glasses in a row before she spotted the crystal decanter of water. It hadn’t been here a minute ago. Or was she seeing double after drinking it?

In the carafe floated a small turquoise fish with a puffy tail overgrown with small pearls. It looked from behind the crystal wall with amber-colored eyes, and then suddenly surfaced and clearly said:

“Come back, fugitive! They are waiting for you at home!”

Lilophea backed away. You have to get to the point of hearing a fish talking to you. But on the other hand, in the underwater kingdom she had not yet seen fish that can speak in human language?

There were several more morgens among the guests. Lilophea only now noticed them, and it didn’t even take a wet trail for that to happen. The morgens arrived in their usual form. Though their creepy faces, heads with patterned blue outgrowths, and long spiky tails could well be mistaken for elaborate masquerade costume. The tridents in their webbed paws gave them away as guards. They had most likely come to look for the king’s runaway wife.

And such guards could have been sent after her to every corner of the world. Not to mention her native Aquilania. Lilophea felt sick to her stomach. What had she done by running away? What if her father was already in trouble because of her?

The hour must have expired, for the spirit called to her from the bay window, which was visible again. Lilophea rushed over there.

The spirit sighed in relief and stopped gesticulating. The hourglass in his hands, on a stand of two water snakes, showed that time was running out. The blue sand in them was already almost all the way down into the lower compartment.

The bay window leading to the bridge was a loophole that could save her from any pursuit. After all, it’s so easy to get lost in the maze of bridges.

Lilophea gasped as she found a black net growing on the passage at the speed of the wind. Someone was deliberately blocking her way to the bridge. Thankfully, the spirit of the bridge clung to her and managed to drag her across the bay window.

“It’s the black elf,” Lilophea complained to the spirit, who must have been watching.

“Yes, I hadn’t considered it. I’m sorry. He’s strengthened his position in the country since I last flew here. Not long ago he was just a mentor, and now he’s gone so wild. Too bad the Jasper Bridge is beyond me. I don’t come here much. I only took you to the ball.”

“Will Morgen’s black net hold him for a while?” Lilophea was agitated.

“Weren’t they sent here for you?”

“What is it for?”

“Why should they? The underwater tsar has his own politics. There is been a lot of maneuvers. I’ve been flying here for centuries, and I’ve seen it all.”

“And Seal destroyed whole fleets?”

“What’s it to you? All your wealth is in the underwater kingdom. The more ships with valuable cargo are sunk, the richer you will be, Your Majesty!”

“But it’s cruel!”

“But it’s profitable.”

“You sound just like Seal. And like my father’s second minister Baldwin. And also like… Morrin.”

He was a privateer, so he thought profit was worth a man’s life. Only as she looked into his kind, youthful face, she never once thought of that.

“Don’t worry! Aquilania’s ships, barques, brigantines, caravels, and even little fishing boats are safe. Your husband has a treaty with Aquilania until you escape.”

“But I’ve already escaped.”

“All you did was go for a walk. That’s what I call it, and the other bridge spirits will agree with me when questioned. I’m friends with everyone here, and we’ll all support you. Just don’t go back. It’s so boring here without you.”

“And I have watched the spirits circle the bridges, laughing like that one over there!” She pointed to the crossroads where it was happening now.

“They’re just trying to dispel boredom. You can quickly go crazy here if you don’t find a reason to have unbridled fun. That’s why we’re acting so crazy.”

Suddenly the spirit gripped her by the waist, lifted her above the bridge, and began a wild dance.

“Stop it! Let me go!” She could not break free.

“I am the queen of the underwater kingdom, not a tavern dancer,” said she. The spirit sobered. He let her go at once.

“Don’t tell Seal! Sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s all right. You’re forgiven,” Lilophea found that the mask of foam had once again run a puffy frill down her sleeve. It’s nice to wear a dress that can transform and improve itself. You don’t need a lady’s maid with it, either.

“By the way, do you want to see how the mermaids live in the harem of the Sultan of Etar?” The spirit winked slyly.

“Is it mermaids? Are they In the harem? You really are crazy.”

“No, I am not! It’s true! I saw it myself through the window!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Let’s make a bet on a kiss!”

Lilophea thought about it. What has she got to lose? She could go there too, especially if the spirit would pick her up and carry her over the bridge. Then she wouldn’t have to bother her legs.

“It is all right!” She agreed. “I’m just hungry.

I didn’t feel hungry under water, but my stomach was rumbling with excitement after my visit to the earthly ball.” She shouldn’t have neglected the refreshment tables outside the ballroom. But did she know she would soon feel the hunger she had almost forgotten about living in the underwater realm.

The spirit puzzled for a moment, even trying to turn the stone platter of fruit on one bridge’s prop into the present. It only partially succeeded. The oranges and pineapples half became fresh and appetizing, half remained stone.

“Let’s go this way!” The spirit pulled her to one of the bridges, whose parapet consisted of living trees and bushes. There were bananas, and mangoes, and pears, and apples, and peaches. It was a full array of all berries and fruits.