LIOR

"You have my thanks, all of you," the merman Reuben said. His face was almost haggard with gratitude. "Especially you — if you hadn't been on the top of that hill, I don't know what might have become of me." He shuddered. "Except that I do: I would have died suffocating on garbage, and you spared me that."

He sent a special smile Lior's way, and Lior tried to smile back, but it was a battle to muster anything close to a grin in this atmosphere. He was in Commander Titus's tent, and so was the merman himself and several of the generals: Carys, Mattathias, and Jeshuah. Hovering silently in the background were other merfolk that Lior did not recognize — the advisors, perhaps? It made his skin crawl to sit in this circle with them, even with Lady Tirza folded down to one side, and Nightlight in his lap, stiff as a stone. He felt strikingly out of place — what was he doing here?

But he knew — he knew it in the way Titus's eyes flashed to him every once in a while, almost as if to make sure that he was staying put. There was dialogue, but in a minute he would have his turn with the Commander one-on-one. His arms tightened around Nightlight — I've got to get him out of here.

"What were you doing all the way out here?" Lady Tirza asked. "This is quite a ways from the ruins." She tilted her head, then guessed, "The temple. But by yourself?"

Reuben gave her a knowing smile and said, "Yes, Phinebas wasn't able to make the trip this time, so I volunteered to go in his stead. And going alone is best these days... There are a lot more boats about than usual, as you've seen."

Lady Tirza stiffened. "Has Lord Kygriss-Mari—"

"He's fine," Reuben said, waving airily. "More sulky than ever, if you can believe that." His face became sad. "But things have changed since you left, Tirza. With all the surface traffic, we've had to move from the Ruins."

Her face paled. "Surely not. Phinebas wouldn't—"

"Phinebas didn't have a choice. Just as I was almost caught today, Tacitus was almost ensnared by a net four weeks ago. And since you've left, we've had to go to ground half a dozen times thanks to humans diving too close for comfort. Eventually, the high priests elected to relocate entirely, to ensure Lord Kygriss's safety."

Tirza Mari looked down at her hands, pained — behind his small table, Titus leaned forward, his face severe.

"Reuben," he said, "by the sound of things, it would appear that you are in need of our services once more."

Reuben brow crinkled. "I beg your pardon?"

"The boats," General Mattathias said, stacking his hands on his hips. "Could be we could help you and the Clan with that."

"Truly?" Reuben looked from Mattathias, to Titus, to Tirza, and back to Mattathias, who shrugged.

"It's what we do," he said. "And apparently—" He shot Titus a look " — it's why we're here. More or less."

Reuben looked confused, and Lady Tirza said, "The Commander holds a great interest in Lord Kygriss-Mari, and wishes to meet him in person." She peered at Titus as she said, "He's told me that he wishes to consult with us on the ceremony."

The young merman stiffened. "The ceremony? What for?"

Titus abruptly pushed up from his desk. "I shall explain at another time," he said with a commanding finality. "For now, we must make preparations for the day's march, and I'm sure that after being apart for so long, you wish to speak to Lady Tirza. We will reconvene to discuss this matter at dusk. Dismissed." As everyone rose and began moving, his eyes flashed to Lior once more. "Lior, you stay."

His throat jammed with dread — he'd been nearly certain that he'd almost been forgotten. So he rose, but didn't move. For a moment, Lady Tirza stood beside him with a twisted look on her face, almost like she wanted to protest, but then turned away, squeezing Lior's shoulder. He grabbed her hand before she left, and hurriedly shoved a worried Nightlight into them. Then they were gone, with Reuben trailing behind them; Lior heard him say, "Tirza? Where is Dion? Is he with you?" before their voices faded away.

Then it was just them in a dark tent: Titus, Lior, and Lior's heartbeat, which was so loud it was like a separate presence outside of his own body. He was terrified of this man today, more than usual, not just because of his pointed stare, but because of what had happened only some thirty minutes ago. Swirling, ice-cold water, so violent that it had upended an entire ship, turned it under the waves, thrown its passengers into the water...

He didn't know what to make of it, still. Had it actually happened? Part of him wanted to believe that it hadn't — He couldn't have done that. Merfolk can't do that. Only Pokémon could do something like that—

"What exactly were you doing out in the middle of nowhere so early in the morning?" Titus asked, in a voice that was both quiet and menacing. "And with your Pokémon, no less."

Lior's skin was hot — had he been on the surface, sweat would have been rolling down his cheekbones. He was glad that it was dark in here — perhaps it would be easier to figure a way out of this if Titus couldn't clearly see his face. He started carefully: "I'm sorry, sir. I was just—"

"Ah." The sound cut Lior off like an axe. "Before you start, boy, know that I'm an accomplished liar, and you are not. I will know, and there will be consequences. You would do well not to make it worse for yourself."

Just like that, Lior's resolve crumbled; he looked away, down at his hands, knotted the fingers together. Consequences yes — probably, he had consequences coming his way already. What point was there to lie? He took a breath. Tried to take a breath — the water seemed to get stuck in his gills.

"I was...going to help him escape," he muttered.

Movement, and Lior flinched, but it was just Titus backing up a pace. "Speak up, boy," he commanded. "Be a man when you admit your guilt."

He tried, but speaking loudly in the Commander's presence was nearly impossible: "Cephas... He was getting hurt in the corrals," he continued, voice strangled. "I saw all the Pokémon there fighting over food, and Nightlight—"

"What business did you have over by the corrals?"

"Adiah sent me to deliver some spears, and I saw—"

"None." Titus's voice contained a brutal lack of sympathy. "The answer is none, boy. What happens to that Chinchou is no longer any concern of yours — he has his duties, and you have yours. You are both assets in my army, and for one to try and free the other... 'Theft' doesn't quite cover it. You have removed a sword and a shield from our ranks, and left us weaker for it. It is a high crime, for which you would normally receive more than a blow. More than a dozen." He stare became penetrating, and Lior swallowed thickly. "And yet I've spared you, for I profess I'm puzzled as to your lack of reason. I assumed that after spending more than a year among us, you would have a solid understanding of what is acceptable and what isn't. How do you account for this sudden idiocy?"

Lior's jaw tightened, so hard that he feared he might crush his teeth. Titus watched him a moment, expression unreadable in the shadows. Then he crossed his arms.

"Speak freely," he said.

The allowance was remarkable — Lior had had very little opportunity to speak out of turn since Titus had first put him to work, and now that he did, he wasn't sure of what to say, or how to say it. Taking a breath, he tried:

"He's...my friend, sir," he started tentatively. "I want to make sure that he's safe."

"And he is safe. A Pokémon has never died under Cephas's care. He bends them, he does not break them."

"But—"Automatically, Lior fell silent, but Titus waved him to continue, and he said, "But the squires and the other Pokémon are hurting him—"

"Yes, and he will continue to be hurt until he finally breaks through that wall. They all will — they suffer until they learn to fight, until they learn to shirk the abuse. That is how it is done here. That is what will transform them into Pokémon able to protect their own and slay their enemies. Suffer now, and they win the war later."

Lior's fingers went back to twisting, bending, weaving, and he found himself speaking to them, rather than to Titus: "...war?"

Titus came around the table again, and a moment later was standing over Lior, glaring down at him, his huge hands fisted. "Speak up, boy," he snarled. "Look at me when you talk."

Lior lifted his head, lip wobbling, and blurted, "What war? I-I... Nightlight doesn't want to fight. I don't either! I just want..."

He trailed off, and looking into Titus's face became too much again — he looked down, back at his restless fingers. Titus gave him a moment to continue, but he didn't know what else to say. All had been said, and yet nothing had been said.

"What, boy?" Titus growled. "What is it you want? Because it looks to me that you don't know — that stupor you fell in after the oil is proof enough of that." Lior flinched, but Titus ignored him. "And you aren't the only one: many merfolk don't know what they want of life, other than to simply survive, to marry, and to bear children. It is the greatest strength and the greatest weakness of our people: our love of peace, our complacency, our submissiveness. Well." His voice became derisive. "Do you know what complacency has gotten us, Lior?"

He said nothing.

"The Cataclysm," Titus continued. "The Era of Bloody Water. Suffering and hardship and exploitation, all at the hands of the very beings with which we have tried to broker peace. Had it not been for King Kyogre, our people may have been wiped out entirely. And yet, even after all this time, even after given a second chance by the king of the sea himself...we are right back to where we started, riding a current that leads back to red oceans and boiling seas. The humans climb on our backs, and we let them. We encourage them. That is the battle, Lior. That is our war."

Lior looked up at the furor in his voice — the icy harshness of his face had given away to some heat that Lior could see kindling in the depths of his eyes, like blue-green fire. He didn't know what he was talking about, but he said quietly, "I don't want this. I-I... I didn't ask for this."

"No," Titus agreed, his eyes abruptly cooling. "But you will have it, because you don't know what you want — you are another mat under the humans' feet, another unwitting footrest, just like the rest of them. And perhaps you don't feel the weight of their heels, not yet, but one day you will, and one day you may be crushed by them. You've already had a taste of what it's like."

Flinch. "I don't under—"

"But you are here with us now, both you and your Pokémon, and I will make you strong. I will build you up, boy, so that when that day comes when the humans push, you will not buckle beneath their weight. Like our Pokémon, I will make you suffer, so that later you can shirk the abuse, win the war." He returned to the desk, sank down in the cushions behind. "But until that day comes, you will act like a soldier, and you will purge whatever caused this righteous foolishness. Spending the next three weeks digging and emptying the latrines should help. Report to Ruth for duty after you finish your tasks with Enos, understood? Dismissed."

Lior hesitated — he didn't understand, and he wanted to ask. But he could tell that the rare opportunity to speak his mind had come to a close. So he saluted and left the tent, relieved...and highly confused.

***

Reuben remained with the army for the next few weeks, but Lior usually only saw him at night, when he finally finished covering the latrines and disposed of the jarred liquid waste with the rest of the poor souls of the culinary and sanitary crew. The merman was given a spare tent, which he always pitched beside Lior and Lady Tirza's, and generally when Lior returned, the merman was already asleep.

On rare occasion he saw Reuben during the day too, in passing as he joined Tirza on her medical rounds around the camp; he had it from whispers and Adiah's grumpy babble that the merman spent his time offering counseling to the soldiers of the army, as well as other religious services. He didn't appear happy with his duties, though: Lior noticed that he looked noticeably dourer than he had during their first meeting. Dark circles developed beneath the merman's eyes, and when out of the public eye, he became withdrawn and unhappy. Lior wondered why.

Did it have anything to do with the grave? Towards the middle of his second week of latrine duty, Lior came back one night, nearly sleep-swimming, to see the merman floating before something he'd erected outside of his tent: a mound of eroded stones stacked into a miniature mountain. At the peak sat something a little shinier: a mineral or metallic scavenge, he couldn't tell. Reuben had floated before it, eyes closed, the hood of his robes hiding his face, whispering quietly to himself. It looked like he was praying.

Later — he couldn't remember when — he asked Lady Tirza about it. The question had brought agony to her face.

"Yes, a grave," she'd whispered, her face haunted in the near-total darkness. "His brother, Dion. We were..." She trailed off, fingers tightening into her robes.

"Married?" Lior had guessed.

"Engaged. We were childhood friends, and we grew up together in the Clan—"

"Clan?"

"My community. The Kyogre Clan. Like Reuben and I, Dion was an acolyte of Lord Kygriss-Mari, and we worked closely together. And then..." She shook her head helplessly. "Things changed. I don't remember when. But suddenly we were together, and the lifelong commitment of celibacy and chastity became rather suffocating for us. So we left. Ran away, without telling anyone. I think Reuben was the only one who truly knew about us."

He'd swallowed, seeing something in Lady Tirza that he felt in himself: that hole, the one that was still raw at the edges, threatening to reopen a wound that time and constant hard work had slowly begun to mend. He'd wanted to take her hand, but something had told him that that would make it worse. So he'd sat in silence for a moment, and something had occurred to him.

"Is that why you owe Commander Titus a favor?" he asked.

She didn't misunderstand, and slowly nodded. "Plastic sickness," she'd said softly. "We were traveling close to the coastline, looking for a good place to settle down. But the waters there were heavily polluted, and Dion breathed in too much... The pieces were so small that he didn't even know he was breathing them in until his gills started bleeding, and his lungs started rattling with inhaled plastic and..." Her face twisted, becoming something terrible and anguished. "I tried to help him. I'd trained as a healer within the Kyogre Clan, but I simply didn't have the materials, the tools. I went far looking for help, and stumbled across Titus and his troops. He enlisted his soldiers to help me, and we collected supplies and headed back to the cave, but by the time we got there, Dion..."

Lior had waited, and Lady Tirza had sucked in a breath.

"The Commander helped me bury him," she said softly. "And after he offered me a place in the army as an honored guest, fed and clothed and protected me as only Dion had been able to before. I might've died out there without him."

"Couldn't he have pulled the plastic out of Dion's body?" Lior had asked. "He pulled the oil out of me, somehow."

She'd shrugged. "Apparently not. It seems that is only something he can do with liquid substances."

"Like what he did with the boat?"

"Yes."

"How—"

"I don't know, my boy." She'd frowned, opened her mouth to speak, and then had closed it. "No," she'd muttered. "I don't know. But..." She'd peered at him with strange eyes, ones appraising him, ones that were uncertain. "He once told me that he believes this strange ability of his is connected to Lord Kygriss-Mari."

"How?"

"I don't know," she'd said again, and then her gaze had become wistful. "Lord Kygriss-Mari... I hope he's doing all right. It seems an age since I first left with Dion." She'd chuckled. "I wonder: was he angry when he found out? Were the rest of them? I thought of them often when I was out in those waters alone with Dion. It appears that duty may have had a stronger pull on me than love. I wonder if they'll be glad to see me when we arrive?"

"Reuben was glad to see you," Lior had pointed out.

"Reuben's a kind soul. Phinebas and Lord Kygriss-Mari are quite another matter." She'd smiled at him, reached out and stroked his hair. "I'd like for you to meet him."

"Will that be allowed?"

"Perhaps. We'll see what I can do." She'd pushed him down to the bed mat and curled up beside him. "Now go to sleep. I've had enough talk of sorrow for one day."

So they'd slept, and in the following days, Lior's mind learned to diverge from his body during the day, wandering along multiple lines of thought as he ran errands, dug and filled latrines, passed Adiah tools, and watched, helplessly, as Nightlight suffered through Cephas's training from afar. Though the work was hard, he almost felt that he was in a lull, a dull limbo where every day followed the same tracks as the one that had come before, where every day he was working for the sake of working, and waiting for the next chapter of his life to unfold.

It was coming soon, he felt — he didn't know what gave him this premonition, but he could feel it in his flesh and bones, that the page was about to turn, and that everything that had happened so far was building up to some explosive point from which there was no return.

The sentiment made him want to chuckle: the things that were happening — moving towards Lord Kygriss-Mari, Commander Titus and his mysterious powers, his fantastical war — had nothing to do with him. He was a grunt in Titus's Army, an asset still struggling to find his place among all the other soldiers — it was contemptuous to think of himself as anything else.

And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that he felt in his lateral lines, in the depths of his blood — the tides were changing, for him, and every day they grew louder and louder in the back of his skull.

A week and a half later, they arrived at the trench.

***

Here, at the home of Lord Kygriss-Mari and Lady Tirza's Kyogre Clan, the land beneath the water went low, tumbling down to oblivion in a giant sandy staircase.

The descent was gradual, but Lior could feel the pressure in his blood, in the bones of his skull — a disorienting weight settled on his scalp as the army followed the land down, pressing against the back of his eyeballs, the back of his neck, his joints and long bones. The most noticeable effect was on his lungs: the pressure didn't crush them exactly, but it seemed to compact the space in which they had to expand, and breathing — for him, for everyone — became a surprising struggle.

The only ones that didn't seem to be affected were Lady Tirza and Reuben. "You'll get used to it," he said kindly during day three of their march down the water column — the going was slow, as half a hundred troops had already collapsed from mild cases of depth sickness. "I've advised the Commander to ease our pace to allow the soldiers adequate time to acclimate. Soon the lot of you will be running around like you normally do."

And Commander Titus did indeed follow his advice, shortening the marches to six hours a day instead of twelve, and bedding them down at progressively lower depths, until they left behind sand and moved into craggy ridges and hills of rock, swamped in the heavy gloom of the deeps. Pressure aside, it was hard to imagine anything living down here, let alone a community of merfolk.

Yet at the floor of this deep slope — one that was sort of but not quite a trench — there were caves, embedded in the rock wall on the other side. At least, he assumed there were caves — from where he marched with the others, it was hard to see anything in the distance, which was fuzzy in the gloom, but the order came down the line to halt, and after it came word that a group of merfolk had appeared out of the dark to meet the vanguard. Reuben left after that to join them. He urged Lady Tirza to accompany him, but she refused, preferring to stay behind to help Lior set up his tent.

And suddenly, like a thunderbolt, he wondered, wondered something he couldn't believe he hadn't considered before: "You're...going to go back, right?" he asked after the stilts had been erected. Lady Tirza hovered nearby, beating out the tarp, and Lior stared at her, suddenly wondering what life would be like without her in it, waiting for him at night to finger-comb his hair free, lay beside him, reassure him and hold his hand. The idea made him painfully ill. First his parents, then Nightlight...now this. It was happening right before his eyes, and it was horrifying. "You're going to leave the army, rejoin your community?"

Of course she was—why was he asking? She stilled and peered over at him, eyes shadowy.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "We spoke of this — I might not be welcome. Dion was a treasured member of the order, and he abandoned his duty to Lord Kygriss-Mari to be with me, and died for it. Ex-communication on my part would not be unreasonable."

He hated the wicked hope that gave him, but he simply could not imagine trying to live among these people without her to blunt the rampant apathy. "When will you know?" he mumbled.

She came over and knelt before him, taking his hand. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I expect I'll be with you all at least another night, though. Some of the soldiers are still suffering from depth sickness, and I—"

"Can't you stay longer?" he begged. Suddenly, he was on a pin's edge, seconds away from bursting into tears. "I... I was feeling really nauseous earlier today. That's one of the symptoms, isn't it? I might be coming down with it too."

"Oh, sweet boy." She cupped his cheek, smiling. "Then I suppose I shall have to stay a bit longer, won't I? I couldn't sleep at night knowing my dear Lior is suffering."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Thank you."

"Lady Tirza." A courier suddenly appeared behind them — it sounded like Jabez, but Lior couldn't tell in the gloom. "Commander Titus is requesting your presence at the vanguard immediately."

"I see." Lady Tirza studied Lior a moment before rising. "Tell him that I'll be right along." Jabez turned to go, and she suddenly spiraled. "Hold a moment! May I borrow your knife, boy? I've got some cloth that wants cutting into bandages, and Lior's agreed to help me."

Silently, Jabez unsheathed the knife he kept at his side and handed it to her, before swimming off into the dark. Lady Tirza inspected the blade in the weak light and then turned back to him.

"Lior," she said, "give me your hand."

His eyes went from her to the knife, and he swallowed. "Why?"

"Trust me, my dear. I'll only hurt a moment."

A few minutes later, Lady Tirza was swimming towards the vanguard and Lior was beside her, a stream of blood trailing from a laceration across the palm of his hand. Ahead, the rock wall seemed to expand into the dark, its rugged, black-gray surface standing out in stark relief under the group of lights sitting at its feet. Lights from Pokémon, Lior realized: as they went down, he saw many of them swimming about, mainly Lumineon and Lanturns, radiating light like underwater stars. With astonishment, Lior saw that Nightlight was there too — he stood with several other Pokémon in a ragged semicircle, a flesh-and-blood wall between the rock wall and the tents, keeping an eye out for troublemakers and eavesdroppers.

Standing in the bioluminescence of all of these Pokémon was a glut of merfolk: Titus, Lior saw, Generals Jeshuah and Carys, the advisors, Reuben...and three others that were unfamiliar to him. Except their robes: like Lady Tirza's, they were white, and folded in the same fashion. As she and Lior joined the circle, one robed figure, a Dewgonga, lowered his cowl with gnarled hands, revealing a withered face feathered with a fine-haired beard. The lips drew back.

"Tirza," he growled. "By the King himself. Reuben told me, and I half-prayed it wasn't true."

The cords in Lady Tirza's throat tightened. "It's good to see you, Phinebas."

"I can't say that I feel the same," the Dewgonga said. "Reuben's told me what's happened, and had it not been for the army at your back, I would have you baking right now. I can scarcely believe that you have the gall to show your face after this."

Tirza squeezed Lior's hand needily, and Reuben said, "Phinebas, another time, please."

Phinebas whirled on him. "Yes, I suppose we should address the more pressing issue, that being the strangers you have brought to our home, Reuben. Who are they, and what is their business here?"

Reuben glanced back at Titus, who kicked forward. "Phinebas," he said. "I am Titus, commander of the army you see before you. It is an honor."

Phinebas studied him, his rage subsiding into caution. A consequence of Titus being Titus — this was not a man to snap at, and anyone could see that from afar. When he spoke, his voice was measured: "I hear from Reuben that you are the ones who attempted to convalesce Dion after he fell ill. And that you buried him, and gave him last rites." A nod. "My thanks."

"My pleasure," Titus growled. "It is our purpose to help other merfolk in need."

"Is that so? And what need has brought you here?"

"One far greater than mere plastic sickness. I have heard that your young ward is Kin. Is this true?"

Phinebas's jaw dropped open, and he spun to Tirza, making Lior flinch. "Tirza!" he roared. "I— You— What have you told him?"

"Exactly as you surmise," Titus continued before Lady Tirza could answer. "She has told me a great deal about him, including that he is a descendant of one of the original four lines, the Kygriss one."

Phinebas shot Tirza another hateful look before turning back to Titus. "Yes, that's true," he ground out. "What is that to you?"

"I would like to meet him."

A beat of silence, in which Phinebas sized Titus up once more. There was an anxious tilt to his jaw, and he seemed to steel himself as he said, "No."

More silence, and this one was dangerous — behind Titus, Lior saw Mattathias and Carys move closer, their hands on their weapons: a knife and a short sword. Titus didn't look angry, just unsurprised; he crossed his arms.

"It is for his own safety," Phinebas said, in a voice that was trying to be firm and apologetic at the same time. "If you know the story of the Kin, you know why."

"He has nothing to fear from me,' Titus said.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"It is simple: I am also Kin."

Phinebas barked out a surprised laugh. "You lie."

Titus said nothing, just waited. And while he did, the water seemed to grow...cold. At first, Lior wondered if he was imagining it. Then Lady Tirza shivered against his side, and he knew he was not. Phinebas stopped laughing.

"What game are you playing, boy?" he demanded with an unexpected shudder.

"I play no games, Phinebas. Every word I speak is true."

Phinebas exchanged a look with Reuben, then snapped, "Prove it. Lord Kygriss is the only Kin I have ever known in my lifetime, and you'd best think again if you expect me to simply take your word for it."

"Fine," Titus said readily. "I will prove it to you. In fact, I shall go a step further—Reuben has told us of the boats that plague the waters above the ruins. Tomorrow, I will take care of them for you, and allow you to move back into your home."

Phinebas cackled again — Lior was beginning to suspect that he did that whenever he was shocked or caught off guard. "You... You're really serious, aren't you?" he chuckled. "It... It shouldn't be possible—"

"Tomorrow, come. See for yourself." Titus snapped his fingers, and with that, the meeting broke up. The merfolk turned and followed General Mattathias and Carys back towards the tents, and the Pokémon on watch followed behind — Nightlight gave Lior a look of anguished longing before following in behind the others, and Lior watched him go, disheartened.

Titus stopped before them. "What is he doing out here?" he growled, staring down at Lior.

"He cut his hand," Lady Tirza said, lifting Lior's arm and undoing the bandage she'd thrown loosely around his hand after she'd sliced his palm. "I considered going to the medical tent for a salve, but I thought not to waste your supplies. The Clan will have set up an apothecary somewhere, and I'd like to use their medicines instead."

The Commander's eyes narrowed, but he only said, "Don't dally, Lior — you and the couriers will be assisting us with my demonstration tomorrow."

"Sir." Demonstration? Lior's heart pounded as the Commander headed off. A demonstration to show that he was... What had he and Phinebas said? Kin. What did that mean? Did it have anything to do with his strange powers?

Titus left, and Lady Tirza tugged on his hand. "Come."

Phinebas had disappeared into the shadows swarming the giant cliff, and they started after him, only for Tirza to pull them up short. Lior squinted, and saw that there was a dark hole staring out at them from the base of the cliff like a giant mouth, and floating in it were several other robed merfolk, pinning Tirza with hostile stares.

Reuben came up behind them. "Come on, Tirza," he said, linking his arm through hers. "There's no point in putting this off. Wouldn't you rather get it over with?"

"Perhaps it isn't the right time," she murmured, but allowed Reuben to drag them forward anyway. They approached the entrance to the cave, and then they were inside — the robed merfolk didn't stop them, only watched them pass into the dark with a chilly animosity. Whispers rose up behind them when they were out of earshot.

"Where is the apothecary?" Tirza asked.

"I'll take you there," Reuben assured her.

And so they went, twisting and turning in the space behind the wall. It took Lior a moment to realize that they were traversing a dense network of tunnels — there was a floor, which his tailfin kept scraping, and a ceiling, which his head kept hitting, but other than that, he could not comprehend the shape of the grottos, where one ended and another began. There was precious little light in this place, save for stands and patches of bioluminescent flora that were strategically placed at corners and intersections, like dim torches. There were also Pokémon swimming about — Chinchous, which gave him a pang of longing for Nightlight, some Feebas, a Goldeen or two. Lior even saw the flash of a Huntail at one point, its long fin disappearing around a corner.

There were also more Clan members about, though Lior only saw flashes of their faces in the gloom. He heard the whispers though, the angry hisses: "Young and stupid"; "What has Phinebas said about this?"; "I don't know who was stupider, her or Dion"; "Why is she here? Phinebas can't possibly be allowing her to resume her duties, after what she did?"

They stopped; Lior rocked his jaw, tried to pop his ears, and felt that that this was a larger chamber here: the water wasn't moving so fast, forced into a stronger current by the trench's heavy pressure. There was also more glowing blue sea flora here, in the form of a mat of bioluminescent algae carpeting the walls and part of the ceiling. It partially illuminated an open space lined with makeshift shelves, all filled with an assortment of jars, plastic buckets, and containers. Several wooden crates occupied the center of the room, which was covered in tools, and a pile of kelp.

"How are you fixed for the evening?" Reuben asked as Tirza beckoned Lior over to the table. "Are you staying in the camp?"

"I suspect so," Lady Tirza said. She kicked over to one of the shelves and began rifling through the containers. "I'll be more welcome there than here." She pulled free a jar and then twisted it open as she returned to the table. There was something that smelled bitter inside, and she dabbed a bit on her fingers before applying it to Lior's palm. It stung. Reuben watched her, looking uncomfortable.

"What about Lord Kygriss?" he asked.

Her mouth thinned. "I don't know if Phinebas will allow it," she muttered as she finished and began rewrapping Lior's palm. "But I do want to see him..."

"Aw, how flattering! For he wants to see you!"

Tirza shrieked and Lior jumped — something whipped down from the shadowy ceiling and banded around her, with such speed that he almost — foolishly — thought that it was an Ekans, or a Seviper. But no, it was a boy, very young Jeager that banded both his arms and his dexterous tail around Tirza in a deathgrip.     

"Lord Kygriss-Mari!" she gasped. "I— Arceus, I can't breathe, please—"

"You deserve it," the boy snapped. "You've been gone so long: I thought I was never gonna see you again!"

"Lord Kygriss," Reuben said with supreme exasperation, "what are you doing up? It's late, you should be in bed—"

"Be quiet. I'm tired of going to bed early." Tirza managed to wrangle herself free of the boy, but he simply went up and banded his arms around her shoulders. "So when that pain in the tail Obasi finally left, I got up and went exploring. I heard somebody say that Tirza was back and that she was in the hospice, so I came to find you." The boy scowled fiercely, and then yanked down Lady Tirza's cowl before furiously mussing her long hair. "So where were you, you dum-dum? You left without saying anything and it's been so boring here with just Reuben for company. And then he left too! Why are you guys so mean to me? Huh? Answer me, dum-dum!"

Tirza shrieked again, and Reuben groaned, "Lord Kygriss — Elon! Please. Ease up, and she just might tell you."

"Fine."  Lord Kygriss-Mari peered around the room and blinked. "Hey, where's Dion, anyway? Isn't he with you?"

Lady Tirza, who'd been trying to straighten her hair back into her hood, stiffened, and exchanged an anguished look with Reuben. "Er—"

"Who's that?" Lord Kygriss-Mari pointed, and Lior — who'd been so captured by the exchange that he'd almost forgotten that he himself was in the room — started when he realized that it was at him. He shot Tirza an uncertain look, and she came to his side, clasping his shoulders.

"This is Lior," she said. "I met him after I... When I was away. He's a soldier in Titus's Army."

Lord Kygriss-Mari's eyes went wide. "Army? What army?"

"It's...a lot to explain," Tirza said hastily. "But I've told him about you, and he wanted to meet you."

"Oh." Lord Kygriss-Mari kicked over. Well, not kicked — like all Jeagers, his tail moved in a spiral rather than a beat, and he didn't kick so much as twist over. He came close, very close, and inspected Lior like Lior might inspect an interesting rock.

Lior studied him too. Like Lady Tirza said, Lord Kygriss-Mari was younger than he was, maybe six or seven, and so his face was still round at the edges, his cheeks and his skin still soft and clear. Like Lior, his hair was quite long, and woven into a loose but neat braid that fell over one shoulder. But his fringe was rebellious, and floated messily about his face — it was apparent that he went to bed without undoing his hair, and maybe constantly pulled at it in some sort of restless or anxious tic. He couldn't tell the color of his eyes in the dark, but they were bright and curious, earnest. Honest.

And right now, a little wary. Lior wondered why. Did Lord Kygriss-Mari find him suspicious? "Nice to meet you," he said uncertainly, and extended a hand. Lord Kygriss-Mari didn't take it, but leaned in closer, so that they were almost nose to nose, eyes narrowing.

"Hmm." The boy rubbed at his chin. "Lior... Just Lior? You don't have a surname?"

He frowned. Surname? "No...?"

"Hmmmmmmm. That's weird."

"Don't be rude," Reuben chided.

Lord Kygriss-Mari ignored him. "Say Lior..."

"Uh, yes?"

"Have you ever played...Catch the Rock?"

Lior blinked. What? "No."

"What about Tail Sketches?"

"No." He didn't understand. Where was he going with this?

The boy frowned. "Lord of the Line?"

He hesitated. That actually sounded familiar... Had Father once mentioned that? Said it was a game that he played in his childhood? Another name for it was... "Is that like Sea Knights?"

Lord Kygriss-Mari's eyes glowed, and he clapped happily. "Yes! Fantastic! Finally, someone to play with." He clapped a hand on Lior's shoulder, making him jump. "You and I are gonna get along just fine!"

--