Chapter 140
The leader of Hale, Tama, stands a head taller than everyone else in the room, her presence commanding the space as if it were designed solely for her. She radiates power, her dark bronze skin glowing under the bioluminescent light emitted by the living walls of coral and glowing sea plants.
Her armor is a masterpiece—a blend of gold, polished whale bone, and coral in shades of pink, orange, and white. It clings to her athletic frame like a second skin, making her look more like a goddess than a ruler. The beads of jade and pearl woven into her long, sleek black braids catch the soft light, glinting like stars in the endless ocean depths.
Tama’s piercing gaze lands on Khale, her sharp voice cutting through the murmured whispers of the assembled Euclideans. “Khale, you bring strangers into my halls. Explain yourself.”
Cora moves forward before Khale can speak, her movements measured and regal. The sight of her swimming so confidently, so naturally, still sends a pang of disbelief through me. “Tama, leader of Hale,” Cora says, her voice calm but firm, “I present to you Wake, son of Dagon, Prince of the Deep Abyss, and Phoebe, granddaughter of Electra, Heir to the Eastern Twilight.”
Tama’s gaze narrows as it sweeps over us, lingering on me just long enough to make my fins stiffen uncomfortably. Her expression is a strange mix of curiosity and disdain. “An Abyssinian,” she muses, her tone dripping with condescension. “To think I’d ever see one grace our home.” Her eyes flick to Cora. “And you, sister Cora. Were you not the Mother of Twilight’s chosen daughter the last time we spoke?”
Cora lifts her chin, her voice steady despite the jab. “I had thought the Twilight’s line might end with me, but I should have had more faith in our goddess. My granddaughter is Electra’s true heir. This I acknowledge.”
Tama arches a perfectly sculpted brow, her lips curving into a sardonic smile. “Then what does that make you?”
Cora’s response is quick, her tone unwavering. “Phoebe’s most loyal advisor. And her grandmother, of course.”
The weight of Cora’s words lands heavily on my chest, stirring a whirlwind of emotions I can’t quite name. Pride at her strength, sorrow for the years she lost, and a faint sense of guilt for doubting her.
Tama steps closer, her presence almost suffocating in its intensity. Her eyes lock onto mine, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey. The moment stretches painfully long before she waves a dismissive hand. “Very well. You are welcome here—for now. You may move freely through the village. I grant you passage.”
Khale steps forward, his voice calm but firm. “Leader Tama, I request an audience to make a special petition on behalf of Phoebe.”
Tama’s sharp gaze snaps to him, her expression unimpressed. She studies him for a moment before nodding. “Follow.”
The group moves deeper into the village, through winding corridors carved from volcanic stone and adorned with shimmering sea glass and coral. The walls seem alive, glowing softly with the bioluminescence of marine plants and tiny creatures nestled within the crevices. The air grows cooler, the sound of distant currents echoing faintly in the background.
When we step into the throne room, my breath catches. It’s a stunning, cavernous space that feels both ancient and sacred. A massive throne carved from volcanic rock sits at the far end, its surface inlaid with mother-of-pearl that catches the faint light. The ceiling arches high above, covered in intricate carvings that seem to tell a story I can’t quite decipher.
Tama ascends the steps to the throne and settles into her seat, her arms resting on the ornately carved armrests. The room falls silent, the weight of her authority pressing down on us.
“What is this request?” she asks, her voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of challenge.
Khale steps forward, bowing slightly before he speaks. “I ask for permission to open our sacred grounds so that Phoebe might run the gauntlet and fully realize her potential as Electra’s heir.”
Tama’s laughter fills the chamber, sharp and biting. It reverberates through the water, making my fins ripple with agitation. “Did we not already extend this honor to you, sister Cora? It is by my grace that you regained your fins, is it not?”
My tail stiffens, the translucent fins fanning out like a warning. Before I can say something I might regret, Wake’s hand finds the small of my back, grounding me with his steady presence.
Cora inclines her head, her voice measured. “And for that, I am eternally grateful. However, it is paramount that Phoebe comes into her nature fully if we are to have any chance of completing our great mission.”
Tama’s gaze shifts to me, her expression skeptical. “Why is this child so special that she cannot walk this path on her own?”
Cora’s eyes flick briefly to Wake before returning to Tama. “I have not had the opportunity to fully discuss my grandson’s mission, but if my memory serves, it is one that must be completed if the Abyss is to stand with us against Leviathan. In short, we do not have the time to wait.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Tama leans back in her throne, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest as she considers Cora’s words. Her piercing gaze shifts between me, Wake, and Cora, lingering on each of us as if weighing our worth.
Finally, she speaks. “Very well. Phoebe will run the gauntlet. But I hope you’ve considered an alternative in the likely event that this pupi does not survive her trial. It does seem that much weight lies on her untested shoulders.”
Her words cut deeper than I expect, but I lift my chin, refusing to let her see my fear. Wake stiffens beside me, his protective instincts flaring, but I place a hand on his arm, silently asking him to hold back.
“Thank you for your consideration, Leader Tama,” Cora says, her voice smooth as silk. She inclines her head in a gesture of respect, but there’s a steely edge to her demeanor.
As we turn to leave, I can feel Tama’s gaze burning into my back, her unspoken doubts like a shadow trailing behind me. The weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on my shoulders. Whatever this gauntlet is, it’s clear that failure isn’t an option.
And as much as I want to trust Cora’s faith in me, I can’t shake the fear curling in my stomach.
Because what if Tama’s right? What if I’m not enough?
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