Chapter Three
Turning down one of the closest corridors to the Great Hall, Zayla heads toward her cave. She won't have to go far—the higher the standing in Society, the closer to the Great Hall your cave resides. Greedy eyes watch the comings and goings of King Merrick, and are the first to hear any news.
"Twenty years, Serena. Twenty years I've taught—twelve with you—and never has a student shown such disregard for my rules, for the safety of her own caste mates, and for the well-being of the whole of Society for that matter!" Zayla does not look over her shoulder at Serena as she talks. Nor does she mention Serena's safety, or why she even did it in the first place. "Thirteen left." Zayla shakes her head. "I used to have hundreds of students, and now there are only thirteen of you."
The hallway splits. In one direction the water is ankle deep and still rising. The other direction is dry; even high tide won't touch most of it. Zayla pauses, her hands in tight fists by her side.
"Apologies, Caste Master," mumbles Serena. "I would never intend for harm to come to you or my caste mates."
"As the last and final graduating students, the Temporal Caste has proven to be difficult for me. Because of the constant attention Society gives them, they have become spoiled and bratty." Zayla's shoulders sag just a bit. It is the same action Serena has observed after classes are done each day and the caste is leaving to go home. "But not you, Serena – you were never like them."
Serena looks at Zayla, eyes wide. She has been told as much her whole life, but this is the first time it has been depicted as a good thing.
"You disappointed me today, Serena." Zayla speaks softly, but the weight of her words thunder through Serena's chest.
"As you say." Serena is barely able to squeak out the customary phrase.
The Caste Master finally turns, looking down her nose at her student. "I'll speak no more on the subject. Not until the trial, at least. Have a good night."
Watching Zayla turn down the dry, darkened corridor, Serena's nerves calm just as the glittering gold scales adorning Zayla's back blink out of sight.
Serena turns in the opposite direction and trudges through ankle deep water, following the tide to her cave. When she enters, water still covers the lower half of the room. It is so far from the Great Hall that the tide never fully recedes. In order to sleep in Ungainly form—preferable because it allows a deeper rest—Serena has to lie in a small cove carved in the wall close to the ceiling.
What few personal items she has are in a dry box, lashed down to withstand the currents that invade her space during high tide. Inside the box are several tools, a set of small knives, notebooks, a microscope, bracelets, and one necklace passed down from her mother. Serena has yet to wear any of the jewelry. As the only pieces she has left of her mom, there is no sense in risking losing them.
Serena walks past the dry box and kneels in front of a series of crab traps lining the floor at the end of the cave. Inside the traps are algae and kelp, plus a host of individual jars holding sea urchins and oysters. She bends to inspect her experiments and what little light the cave opening allows winks out.
Turning, Serena finds a dark form in the doorway. She scowls. "You're blocking my light."
The silhouette moves to the side, and a large guard with light brown scales comes into view.
"Oh, how I've missed your warm greetings," says Ervin.
Serena smiles and stands. "Hi Ervin, I'm sorry. It's been a rough day."
He scans the damaged scales on her legs and the claw marks at her shoulders. "So I see."
Serena frowns, then brings forward more scales to cover the wounds, hiding them from her former orphanage friend. Ervin was three castes ahead of her and, like Serena, he has very little to say. Their preference for each other's company grew until Ervin was selected for the King's Guard, as all males are simply due to the fact there are so few of them. Guards are on call through low tide and high, leaving very little room to participate in Society.
"What are you doing here, Ervin?" She has barely seen him since his Choosing Ceremony.
He doesn't answer, only brings his sharpened trident to attention next to his side.
"You are here to guard me?" Her eyes flash and cheeks heat.
He nods, shrugging his shoulders and relaxing his grip on his trident once again. "Nerin and the king didn't seem too happy with you."
Serena plops down next to the cages, peering in at the red and purple spiny sea urchins. "Neither was Zayla."
"Maybe not the best time to fall from their graces, right before The Choosing?" Ervin walks into the room, sitting on Serena's dry box.
She frowns. "Trust me, it wasn't very much of a fall—not when I am already viewed as so far beneath them."
Ervin stands his trident in front of him, spinning it slowly on its stem. "Tonight, with the werewolf…" he clears his throat. "Cordelia was—"
"Cordelia was safe," Serena interrupts. Her eyes snap to him. "Are you mad that I put her in danger?"
"I don't believe Zayla's accusations that the danger was imminent—for them, anyway." Ervin looks at Serena, sighing. "I'm glad you are okay, but please don't do that again."
Serena turns back to the next jar of sea urchins. This one has been exposed to elevated carbon dioxide. "I didn't know the wolves would be out tonight. The moon isn't full." She taps on the CO2 canister, stolen from a tour group of bicyclers. Poisonous CO2 bubbles slide from the canister into the jar.
"What are you doing?" asks Ervin.
She leans back, wrapping an arm around one knee. She points to the first jar. "This is my control group. There are plenty of eggs floating along the surface of the water."
He leans in, squinting at white specks. "Yes."
She points to the next jar. "I've elevated the CO2 in this one. The levels are just slightly higher than that outside our caves right now."
"There are only a few eggs in that one," says Ervin.
"Exactly," says Serena. "And it's where our ecosystem is headed."
He sits up straight again, resuming the spinning of his trident. "Is this what you spend your time doing after school each day?"
She shrugs. "Sometimes I go collecting for my experiments." She turns her attention to the next set of crab traps. Oysters. "At first, it was just a hobby—something to do. But then I began to notice the coral at the outer edge of our kingdom withering away into grey skeletons. I wanted to find out why."
"And thus the hobby becomes an obsession."
Serena rolls her eyes. "We all have our obsessions, Ervin." She runs her hands down the shells of the oysters, looking for miniscule cracks or erosion, but it is difficult to tell with her naked eye. Algae growing through the square spaces in its crab trap brushes her arm, as if asking for attention. She smiles, turning to the reddish-brown plant, running her fingertip along the flat, branching arms and rounded ends. Soon she will have to select one of the trunks to expose to elevated carbon dioxide, mimicking ocean acidification. She sighs. Killing her experiments is never fun.
Ervin stands and opens the dry box, snapping Serena from her concentration. He moves aside notebooks and instruments, finally selecting a pair of tools. He turns to Serena, placing them in her open palm. "Absconding, huh?"
The word rolls around her head, crashing into and burying thoughts of her experiments. Serena turns the tools over in her hand. "The king and Nerin also weren't that happy with Zayla. Maybe they won't let her accusations go to court. Maybe they just want to dismiss Zayla's claim at Assembly in front of all of Society so no one dares bring it up again." It is a comforting thought, but the unease in the pit of her stomach doesn't lessen. It sinks like heavy rocks in soft sand.
Ervin raises an eyebrow. "In the last trial that involved absconding, the maiden was found guilty and was sentenced to death. She keeps appealing, so she is still alive, locked away in the lower caves."
"Not helpful, Ervin." Serena barely remembers the trial. It was the year of her first caste. She turns, scaling th
e wall to a small cove aided by a boost from Ervin. There isn't enough room to sit up, so she lays down, tools at the ready. Each night, she chisels out a little more space for her sleeping area. The monotonous work helps her process the day.
"I'll be standing guard tonight. Sleep well, Serena Moon-Shadow." Ervin turns to leave.
Serena turns on her side. "You should just talk to her, Ervin."
He pauses, shoulders almost rising up to his ears.
"Want me to talk to her for you?"
He turns, eyeing Serena over his shoulder. "Don't meddle, Serena. Leave Cordelia out of it."
She smiles, then lies flat on her back, tools at the ready. As Ervin takes his post outside her door, she begins to hammer at the rough ceiling of her cove. Bits of debris and dust fall into her space. High tide will wash them away in a few hours with help from the harsh currents that surround Vancouver Island. They not only keep the Undine safe from Ungainly divers, but they also polish and smooth the rock that cradles Serena in her sleep.
Maintaining her Ungainly legs, Serena brings forward her scales to help keep her warm through the night. She grits her teeth and the stinging sensation subsides. Like brushing against an anemone, the more she manipulates the scales, the less they hurt.