Chapter Twenty-Four
The Great Hall is packed shoulder to shoulder with Undine once more. A path clears, making way for the three guards that enter, then an even wider berth for Serena.
"Have they come to see that my punishment was fulfilled?" Serena asks Nerin with a grimace on her face.
"The king has ordered that all Undine be present," Nerin whispers back. "He even took roll." She doesn't give Serena a chance to think about the dozens of maidens staring at them. "Back straight, shoulders relaxed," Nerin instructs. "And keep your eyes forward. On the king, if you must."
Serena obliges. The faces grey out in her peripheral vision as she focuses on the king. After the werewolf camp, Alaric, and fighting with her best friend, the king is easy.
Serena and Nerin step up to the mid-platform, and curtsy in unison. On one side of them is the line of council members, on the other side is the line of guards, with Kai and Murphy flanking the ends.
"You're late," says the king. He reminds Serena of Ervin. No one is in a good mood.
"I was not able to inform the Werewolf Liaison when she should return to Assembly, your majesty. She left for her mission too quickly."
Serena is thankful Nerin didn't say 'punishment'. Especially since Kai is standing right there.
"As you say." The king sits up in his chair, looking at Serena. "Let's begin. You carried out your punishment?"
Serena's shoulders sag. A sharp elbow from Nerin reminds her to stand up straight.
"Yes, your majesty," Serena glances at the council.
He continues looking at Serena, leaning forward in his chair.
"I was led to the camp by a werewolf ally—or, at least I think he is an ally…" Serena trails off.
"Alaric?" Isadora leans forward from the line of council members to ask.
"No," Serena answers. She almost has to choke back a snicker at the thought of her and Alaric huddled together in the shadows of the trees, spying on the werewolf camp. She clears her throat. "Though I did see Alaric."
"And?" Isadora stands on the balls of her feet.
"And," answers Serena, lifting her chin to King Merrick. "I believe the king himself knows enough of Alaric's well-being."
Isadora's eyes flit to the throne, red crawling up her cheeks until she looks like a black mountain, spewing hot lava out the top.
"I will consult with you later on the topic, Isadora," says the king, dismissing her with a flippant wave of his hand.
These two definitely have in-law issues.
"What I want to know," says the king. "Are the werewolf numbers. And how are they surviving? Where do they get their food? Why do they stay here, if they are so easily integrated into Ungainly life? Why haven't they moved away—or maybe half of them have?" With each question, the king leans further forward until Serena is sure he is going to attempt to stand up on his tail. "Do they have offspring?"
"Yes," says Serena, squeezing in at least one answer. "There are little ones."
The entire room goes so quiet, Serena can hear her own heart thumping in her chest.
"Younger than you?" Nerin asks by her side. It is practically a whisper. "And they are definitely werewolves?"
"Kind of," Serena breaks decorum to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "As we know, there are no female werewolves, so some of the wolves have mated with Ungainly women. Mostly the offspring born are just more Ungainlies, and they are sent away. But one Ungainly gave birth to three male wolves; and the clan keeps the boys and their mother with them."
"This Ungainly," asks the king. "Is she special in some way?"
"I don't know—I just saw her from a distance."
"Well there has to be some potion," the king turns to his council members, raising his eyebrow at the healer. "Or some divine guidance?" Now he pins Isadora with his stare.
They all lift their shoulders or return blank looks.
"A scientific explanation, then. Do they mate on the full moon? Does their diet make them more virile?
"Your majesty," Serena interrupts. "I apologize, but the few discussions I've had with my werewolf confidante do not broach those subjects."
"Well why not?" It is the same booming voice, but complaining edges his tone.
Before she can stop herself, Serena glances at Kai. He is standing so stiff and straight, he could school Nerin in the art. She frowns, but doesn't answer the king's question. Everyone in the Great Hall seem to be waiting for the king to calm down.
After a few moments, he takes a deep breath. "How many are there?"
"My escort reported there are fifty-two of them, your majesty," says Serena.
"Forty-nine, plus the three young ones," the king exchanges a glance with Nerin. "None have left."
"They are half our numbers," says Murphy, speaking up from the line of guards.
"But each are twice our size," comments Nerin. "At least in their werewolf form."
"Did you see any weapons?" Murphy asks Serena.
She glances from Murphy to the king, and back again. "Why? Are we going to attack?"
"We are only concerned with protecting our own interests," says Nerin.
The king huffs, his long beard vibrating with the motion.
Shifting on her feet, Serena suddenly remembers she left her bow and arrow up in her tree. Her hand twitches, itching to leave the court and retrieve her property.
It's safe, she tells herself. It is surrounded by wolfsbane.
"Has my punishment been fulfilled?" asks Serena.
Without even glancing at Isadora, the king nods. "We will have more questions later, and expect them to be answered in detail," he raises his eyebrow. "But you have done well, Werewolf Liaison."
Serena curtseys, accepting his praise.
"I have something for you," he says.
Straightening in surprise, Serena folds her hands together. "For me?"
The third punishment is to come from Zayla, Serena thinks. Nonetheless, she sucks in a breath, waiting to hear what further penance she must pay.
"It comes from myself, my second…"
Nerin makes a small bow of her head in acknowledgement.
This is going to be bad.
"My council…"
They bow too, Zayla's much slighter than everyone else's, and Isadora's non-existent.
"My council," the king repeats, looking directly at Isadora.
She bows.
He nods, satisfied they all acknowledge this is a gift from them to Serena. "And the King's Guard."
A ripple of murmurs run through the crowd.
This is going to be really bad.
The King's Guard moves to attention in unison at Murphy's call. In one smooth movement, they each place a closed fist over their heart, bow their head, then return to parade rest, hands clasped behind their backs.
When Serena, Nerin, and all of Society behind them look back at the king, he is holding a new trident. He brings it up to balance in the palm of his hand. His fist closes around it, and he throws his arm forward, releasing the weapon.
The trident sails toward Serena, pointy end first. Nerin leaps to the side, and Serena hears the crowd gasp behind her. There is a shuffle, a mad scuffle of hands and feet scrambling to get out of the way.
Serena remains steady. Her hand shoots up, muscle memory. As many times as Kai has made her catch the training tridents during her one session, she now knows why.
As soon as her hand grasps one of the two twisted stems, she rotates her wrist. She doesn't fight the momentum, and her arm falls back. Her shoulder strains under the force; the king has a good arm. Three sharp tips scrape the cave floor. The high-pitched zing echoes in the cavern as Serena completes the rotation in front of her. It is one full spin, then a switch of hands. She comes to attention, settling the trident by her side, pointy end up.
Prongs, she can hear Kai chastising as he did during their lesson. Not pointy end.
Serena smiles.
Behind her, all movement has stopped.
Only the dying echo of the ringing prongs can be heard reverberating against the walls.
The king smiles, too. "Well done, Werewolf Liaison."
"I'll say." Nerin tries to compose herself next to Serena, wiping cave debris off of her. Her leap must have ended poorly. "Though you might warn us next time, your majesty?" Nerin keeps her distance from the trident. She turns her head toward Serena, but doesn't look at her. "And in your next training session, you might learn to not leave a permanent mark every time you wield your weapon in the Great Hall?"
Serena looks down, spotting three deep gashes in the otherwise smooth floor. Though the rest of the ground is naturally rough, here on the mid-platform, the surface has been sanded smooth; until now. Serena runs her bared toes over the incisions, then looks at the prongs. Not a scratch on them.
Her smile grows bigger. She catches Kai's eye. He winks at her.
"If we can conclude Assembly?" asks Nerin. "I think we've had enough excitement for today, and Serena will need time…" Nerin glances at the trident. "To practice with her new weapon—far away from the Great Hall." And me.
Serena can see the last two words on Nerin's lips, though she doesn't speak them out loud.
"Very well," nods the king.
Serena puts up her finger.
"Do you have something to add, Serena Moon-Shadow?"
"Just one request, your majesty."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Your permission to access the King's Library."
"Why?" asks the king.
Serena's grip on her new trident tightens. Like last time she asked, she does not expect a question; just permission. "To do my job," she says, confused.
The king sighs, as if disappointed. "Request denied."