Somewhere Beyond the Sea, page 39
“Bollocks!” Marblemaw bawled. “If I’m banished from the island, that would mean I’m banished from—”
“The village, yes,” Zoe said. “And you will be.” She smiled. “I just need to wake it up.” Suddenly, she dropped to her knees, her hands flat against the pavement. She breathed in, she breathed out, a ripple of rainbow crossing her wings.
And then Arthur felt a tsunami of magic crash into him, greater than anything he’d ever felt before. It knocked the breath from his chest as every hair on his arms stood on end. The ground rumbled beneath their feet, people gasping as pavement started to crack apart underneath the queen’s hands. But it wasn’t destruction Zoe was after: instead of the street breaking completely, a design formed on the road, the rushing lines connecting and creating a large shape that was at least six feet long and three feet wide.
A nautilus seashell, carved into the pavement, curved lines creating the many chambers that made up the interior. As Zoe stood, the cracks filled with blinding white, and balls of blue light began to rise up around her. Her wings buzzed as she rose into the air, the nautilus growing brighter. “I am done hiding,” Zoe said, her voice deep, echoing. “I’m done letting others decide who we are allowed to be. You have been warned again and again, but you do not listen. This land is not yours. It belongs to a free people, stewards and caretakers who will ensure that the might of Marsyas will never again falter.”
“You don’t have the right,” Rowder snapped.
“I do,” Zoe said. “As queen, I do. But perhaps this will help change your mind.” She clapped her hands together, palms pressed together. She exhaled and spread her hands.
A space where there had been nothing now held a wrapped scroll, tied off with a string of shells. Zoe snatched it out of the air and flung it toward Rowder. As the scroll flew toward her, the shells disintegrated, the parchment unfurling. It stopped and hovered two feet in front of Rowder’s face. She squinted at it. The blood drained from her face. “Is … is … that…”
Zoe chuckled. “A decree from one of your former kings relinquishing all rights to the lands of Marsyas to the sprites, signed in the year 1332? Yes, yes, it is. Not that we needed his legitimacy, but apparently you do. As such, when humans came and destroyed my people centuries later, they went against their own king’s ruling. And I will not stand for it any longer.” She turned to look at the crowd gathered below her. “The government has come here to take one of our own. Though they claim to be after all the children, there is one in particular they are desperate to get their hands on. This woman wants to use a child to control everyone and everything, and she has threatened the safety of the other children to see her plan through.”
Silent, still, as if everyone held their breath, the only sound coming from the distant crashing of waves.
“She has come for Lucy,” Zoe thundered. “A seven-year-old child. And if she thinks she’ll lay a single hand on him, then she is mistaken.”
Below her, the shell carved into the street pulsed three times in quick succession.
“Ah, good,” Zoe said. “The magic has awoken. Let’s see about that banishment, shall we?” Almost quicker than Arthur could follow, she plucked shells from her arms and legs, her hands a blur of movement. It took only the space between heartbeats for a large pile to appear on her extended palm. As her wings wrapped around her, Zoe sucked in a great breath, spinning in a furious circle, blowing on the shells.
They shot out with perfect precision. The men in suits stumbled back as shells passed through their heads and came out the other side before disappearing in a puff of powder. Marblemaw stood frozen, a stunned expression on her face.
A single shell—tiny, cream and white in color—floated in front of Rowder’s forehead. She took a step back, raising her hands in front of her face. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”
“I dare,” Zoe said, eyes narrowed. “I dare for every child you have hurt. I dare for every adult who was forced to hide their true self because of ‘see something, say something.’ I dare for all of them. I do this for them, for Helen and Arthur and Linus, for every single person here and around the world who has had enough. Jeanine Rowder, you have proven to be an enemy of magical people—my family. It is within my rights as Queen of Marsyas to order your head removed from your body.”
“Hurray! Then we can find out if she has rabies!” Lucy cried.
“Alas, that would make me no better than you,” Zoe said. With that, she flicked her hand dismissively. The shell hurtled through Rowder’s head without leaving a mark, shooting out the back and rising in the air above her where it shattered, particles raining down on Rowder.
“Lucy?” Zoe called without looking away from Rowder, who was slapping her forehead repeatedly. “Come here, please.”
“The queen has summoned me,” Lucy whispered. “Hell yes!” Without hesitation, he skipped toward Zoe and Rowder. “At your service, your majesty! What would you ask of me? Are you going to knight me? Or will you give me a country estate where I can let the government people run free in a five-minute head start before I hunt them all down? Either way is good with me!”
Marblemaw looked around wildly as if searching for an opening to flee.
Zoe’s lips quirked. “A knight? I do suppose Marsyas will need protection. Yes, that will do just fine. Lucifer Baker-Parnassus, I hereby name you as a knight of Marsyas. If you are ready, I have your first order.”
Lucy snapped to attention. “Yes, my queen!”
Zoe nodded, tapping her chin. “Since you are now capable of teleporting, I wonder if that extends to teleporting others. Say, a group of people who have come uninvited and have overstayed their welcome.”
“I can do that!” Lucy said, obviously excited. “Where do you want them to go? The moon? Inside an active volcano? Wait! I got it!” His eyes took on an ominous glow, burning coals in endless pits. When he grinned, he seemed to have far more teeth than any other seven-year-old. “I can send them to meet my real dad. I’m sure he’d welcome them with open arms.” He giggled as two locks of his hair flipped up, almost like horns. “And when they see his true face, everything that makes them who they are will be gone.”
“Or,” Zoe said, “we can teleport them directly to where Prime Minister Herman Carmine currently is. Let them explain how they have failed, and that the might of Marsyas will rise once again.”
“Aw, man,” Lucy said, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “I never get to send anyone to Hell. It’s so unfair.” He sighed heavily. “Fine. I guess we can do it your way. You’re the queen, after all.”
“We will return,” Rowder snarled, “and in greater numbers. You think this will stop us? You have made a powerful enemy this day, and I will spend every second of the time I have left on this earth making your lives miserable. Remember, your majesty, that you were given a chance. From here on, any blood spilled will be on your hands.”
Zoe nodded toward the reporters, hanging on every word. “I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s headlines. Lucy.”
“No!” Rowder cried. “Don’t! You can’t—”
Lucy raised his little hands toward her. “As the great Cab Calloway once said: skeetle-at-de-op-de-day!”
Tiny explosions, little pops! that sounded like stomping on bubble wrap. One of the suited men disappeared in a cloud of blue smoke. And then another. And then another. Some tried to run, but they did not make it far. Marblemaw let out an anguished wail before she, too, popped and vanished.
Rowder, now alone, her hair hanging in wisps around her face, panted, mouth hanging open. “This means war,” she snarled.
Arthur Parnassus stepped forward, moving until he stood next to his son and his queen, who landed on the ground next to him, taking his hand. Lucy did the same on his other side, and Arthur felt as strong as he ever had. Fire and feather, the phoenix lifted its head in Arthur’s chest, clacking its beak. “Bring your war,” he told her. “Whatever else has happened here, take your banishment knowing this: we will no longer hide. We will not stop. We will remake this world into one it should have been: welcome to all. And since you’re not with us, you’re against us. Lucy.”
Rowder opened her mouth once more, but before she could speak, her forehead began to bulge, then she, too, exploded in a cloud of shimmering dust.
When the cheers started, Arthur wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Later, he’d think that Mr. Swanson was the culprit, followed swiftly by the other employees from the hotel. Regardless, it—infectious, unbridled joy—spread quickly, becoming a roar unlike anything Arthur had heard before. He turned in a slow circle, skin buzzing, heart in his throat as the people of the village—human and magical alike—hugged one another, shook hands, jumped up in the air, their fists pumping. Martin Smythe high-fived J-Bone, both of them talking excitedly. And even better—though perhaps a little stranger—Merle, dancing a jig in the street, his ornery smile bright.
Arthur startled when someone took his hand. He looked over. Linus, watching him with a quiet smile. “It’s starting,” he whispered in awe.
“I am so, so proud of you,” Linus said. “You and Zoe and Lucy. The other children. All of you. This, Arthur. This is what you’ve been working towards. This is what you’ve been building. Can’t you see? You have changed minds.”
Linus was right. They had. Perhaps it was on a small scale, and its reverberations might not be felt outside the borders of Marsyas, but, as he’d taught their children, even the smallest things can change the world, if only one is brave enough to try. It wasn’t unlike the seeds they’d planted at Linus’s former, dreary home. Darkness and shadows, never-ending rain, and yet, color persisted, bursting through and rising, rising toward a blackened sky.
But the queen wasn’t yet finished. As Arthur looked on, she walked through the crowd, the people parting in hushed reverence, some bowing. A child—from the cyclops family—performed a neat curtsy, causing Zoe to laugh in delight and squeeze her shoulder as she passed.
It did not take her long to reach her destination. Standing in front of the reporters, their cameras flashing, microphones extended toward her, Zoe raised her hands to quiet their shouted questions. They fell silent. Everyone did.
Except for Zoe. “Thank you for coming to our home. It’s not normally this exciting, but we do have many things to offer. Which is why I will say this, and you can quote my every word: as Emma Lazarus wrote, ‘Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!’” Her wings spread as cameras clicked and shuttered. “To the world outside our home, know this: Marsyas will be for all magical people who seek shelter, who need a place to rest their heads. We will welcome you with open arms, and help you as best we can, be your stay short or permanent. But,” she added, “should anyone attempt to come to our home with despicable intentions, well.” Her expression hardened. “I’ll remind you I’m a queen, and I’ll do what’s necessary to protect my kingdom.” She blinked. “Oh, that sounded ominous, didn’t it? Good thing I have my lady, Helen Webb, who has agreed to continue her role as mayor.”
“They’re a power couple,” Phee breathed with stars in her eyes.
“What about the land?” a reporter called. “How can you possibly tell the magical community that they can come here when there isn’t enough room?”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Zoe said. “If you would be so kind as to follow me, I’d be happy to show you what I have in mind.” With that, she spun on her heel and walked back toward Arthur, Linus, and the children. Halfway, Helen fell in step beside her, taking her hand and kissing the back with a loud smack. “How’d that feel?” she asked as they approached.
Zoe shook her head. “Strange. Unreal.” She paused. “Right.”
“Crown wasn’t a bad touch.”
“Not too much?”
Helen laughed. “Ask me that again later when we’re alone. Bring the crown.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the women reached their family, Zoe went to the children first. They gathered around her, all speaking at once, aside from Sal, who stood at the rear, head cocked. Zoe looked at him and said, “This was because of you.”
Sal’s forehead bunched up. “What do you mean?”
“You,” Zoe said gently, “and the strength of your convictions.” She looked at each of the other children in turn. “The way you stood up for David, refusing to let us conceal him. The way you have each other’s backs, even when the odds are stacked against you. I may be a queen, but it is you who have the true power. Never forget that.”
Queen Zoe Chapelwhite bowed before them, the chains from her crown dangling around her face.
It wasn’t Arthur who bowed next; no, it was Linus, one hand across his chest, the other behind his back. Then J-Bone. Merle. Helen. Mr. Swanson, the employees from the hotel, the girl who sold kites, the man who owned the antique shop. The new ice cream parlor owner, the librarians, the guys, gals, and nonbinary pals from the bookstore and coffee shop.
It was all of them. Every single being—be they human or something else entirely—bowed for the children.
The wide-eyed, astonished look on each child’s face as the village of Marsyas honored them. This was hope; the children, love letters to a future that had yet to be decided. Yes, Arthur thought as Sal grinned shyly, hope was the thing with feathers, but it was also in the hearts and minds of those who believed all was not lost, no matter the odds.
Which was why when Zoe said, “I’ll need you, I’ll need all of you,” Arthur wasn’t surprised. They had come this far together. It made sense that they would all see this through to the end.
“What are we going to do?” Phee asked as Zoe took her hand.
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” Zoe said. “We’re going to change our world.”
* * *
If a visitor had come to Marsyas at that very moment—say, arriving for a pre-planned vacation, the relief palpable as they stepped off the train for the first time, breathing in that warm, salty air—they would have witnessed a most curious sight: hundreds of people following a woman wearing an armor of shells, a crown atop her head. On either side of her, children, all of whom were asking question after question. Two men followed close behind, both a little frazzled. Mixed in the crowd, reporters, shouting, asking if they’d thought this through, what are you going to do when they come back, are you saying you’re at war with the government?
They were ignored, at least for now. They had seen enough; what they did with what they knew was out of Arthur’s hands. Either they’d report the truth, or it’d be spun as it always was. The time for caring about such things was drawing to a close.
Arthur wasn’t surprised when Zoe led them to the docks, located in the half-moon bay of the village. Off to their left and right, boats of varying shapes and sizes: small watercrafts, paddleboats for rent, speedboats, and a couple of yachts. At the end of the longest dock, Merle’s ferry, waves lapping at its base.
As she stepped onto the ferry dock, Zoe glanced over her shoulder. “Arthur, Linus, please come with us. Merle, you too. The rest of you, stay on the shore. It’ll be safer that way.”
No one argued with the queen. They gathered at the edge of the dock, people lifting their children onto their shoulders, still others standing on their tiptoes, trying to see what was about to happen.
The wood of the dock creaked under their feet as they walked toward the ferry.
Arthur and Linus, dazed and more than a little tired, held their heads high, moving with barely disguised excitement. When Zoe had come to him to tell him what she had planned, Arthur had tried to grasp it as best he could. “Seeing is believing,” she’d said with a spark in her eyes.
When they reached the end of the dock, Zoe crouched above the water. She reached down, cupping saltwater in her hands, letting it drip between her fingers. Without looking at them, she said, “My grandmother understood the ocean. It talked to her in different ways. Almost like Chauncey and Frank. But it wasn’t just the ocean. It was all life that called this land home.” She turned her right hand, and a single bead of ocean hung from the tip of her pointer finger. It stretched and stretched until it fell, plinking back into the sea, little circles spreading. She closed her hand into a fist. “I am her granddaughter. And I will be the queen she thought I could be.” Zoe stood slowly. In the distance, the island. She stared at it for a long moment before turning to face them. “Chauncey, I need your help. Tell the fish, the urchins, the sharks, everything that will hear you. Let them know a seismic shift is coming. The reefs will move, but they will not be harmed. They have my word.”
“You can count on me!” Chauncey said, oozing forward to the end of the dock. Bending over the edge, he sucked in a deep breath. Then: “FRAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNK! YOU THERE, BUD? FRAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNK! WE NEED YOU!”
“While Chauncey is seeing to—”
“FRAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNK!”
“—the aquatic life, Merle, a word.”
Merle wiped his hands on the front of his coveralls, cleared his throat, and then stepped forward, snapping to attention. “Yes, your majesty.”
Zoe snorted. “None of that. I will be Zoe to you, and I won’t hear otherwise.”
Merle’s eyes bulged. “Uh. I can do that.”
“Good,” she said before nodding at the ferry. “How would you feel about being hired on in a more permanent role?”
Merle frowned. “I thought the whole point of this mess was you were going to make it so the island wasn’t … you know. An island.”
“I am, yes. And if I have my way, we will become rather busy in the immediate future. As such, I would like to offer you the position as the official ferryman of Marsyas. Be it by ferry or some other means, you would be the one to bring anyone who seeks shelter to us.”
