I pulled The Look from within me and stared him down. The mixture of fear and dread splayed across his face was more than enough to convince me that he wanted no part in any challenge.
“If there is anyone else who would like to challenge me, come forward now.”
No one rose to accept the challenge. I stared down each of the Elders as I continued. “You have forgotten what a privilege it is to be an Elder. You are here to guide our race and to assist and support The Link in the decisions they make. How dare you decide that I shouldn’t be The Link simply because I have asked you to do your job. If you truly feel it is not your place to help, then by all means, allow me to relieve you of your position.”
Several of the elders cried out in disapproval. I pointed to Xerin. “You, are the first to go.”
His jaw fell open in outrage and he looked around at the others who shrank away as if he had a contagious disease.
“You cannot do this!” He cried.
“I just did,” I announced.
Whirling on the others who had so eagerly agreed with him, I singled them out. “You, you and you may accompany him.”
The two mermen and one mermaid rose in unison without a word.
Morgan, are you sure you want to do this? Thayde was clearly alarmed. You’re getting rid of four of them!
I don’t need any betrayers, Thayde.
They’ve served for hundreds of years.
And they’ve become sloppy and arrogant, I replied.
The four deposed merpeople made their way to the exit behind me, their eyes planted on the floor. I read their minds as they passed. Regret and anger filled them – all of them but Xerin. He trembled with an insane rage that impaired his judgment. More than anything, he wanted to transform into a great white shark and rip me into shreds.
“Don’t even try it,” I warned him as he passed. “It’s the best way to lose your powers.”
His deep green eyes narrowed in retaliation and with two flicks of his tail, he was gone.
What happened to you forgiving? Thayde asked and I turned to him, my mouth open in surprise.
“Never mind,” Thayde held up his hands.
Can we talk about this later? I’m a little busy at the moment, Thayde.
Sure.
Facing the diminished group, I sighed. “You know of Limus Dartmoth.” They nodded in unison. “Then you’re aware I cleared him of his powers and his memories. I was sure he was the one who initiated the attacks against Thayde and me. I was wrong. It was his daughter.” The Elders looked uneasy. “He taught her well and all their dealings and promises have paid off. Herra is very powerful.”
“What do you want of us?” A mermaid with a dull, yellow tail who reminded me of the lady on the Aunt Jemima bottles in the Winn Dixie stores rose from her seat. “It has been centuries since The Link has asked for our help.”
“There is going to be a war – one that will kill many of our kind.” I watched their stern faces. None spoke as I continued. “This war will be one unlike any we have seen in a long, long time. If we are to win, we need to involve the entire race of merpeople, not just my family.”
A stirring of voices echoed throughout the hall as the elders all began to argue at once.
“You’re The Link!”
“Why would you involve everyone?”
“You could end this easily!”
I raised my hands, asking for silence. “I cannot just end this. There is a lesson for everyone to learn here. I can’t just sweep in and clean it all up. Herra is playing on a different level than we’ve ever seen. She’s already using Genif’s to control Humans and merpeople.”
An explosion of arguing followed my statement.
“That’s impossible!”
“One can only do that with the use of the dark powers and that’s been banned!”
“Clearly, she does not care for our laws or our traditions.” I interrupted and wracked my brain as to how to ask my next question. “I’m asking you to send word to the heads of the families that I want to meet with them to ask for their participation in this war. Herra is using all the feral merpeople of the seas to fight. All of them.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
“It would be suicide.” A deep voice resounded over the silence and a merman with short dark hair and hazel eyes swam forward. Black banded tattoos wrapped themselves around his strong arms and his orange tail was a striking contrast to any of the merpeople’s tails I’d seen since being a mermaid.
“My name is Kenneth,” he introduced himself, extending his hand to me. Despite his fatalistic comment, I liked him.
“Why do you say it would be suicide?” I asked.
“Feral merpeople are unpredictable and dangerous. They kill without regard to themselves or others. In short, they are barbaric. They fight as if they have lost their minds. You can’t predict what they’re going to do. They’re almost psychotic.” He crossed his arms in thought. “But, we could use that to our advantage. They act, they don’t think. That could be helpful.”