Lilophea-2: Consort of the Sea King. Natalia Yacobson

tongues, like toads.

      “Where did you come from? Did Seal send you?

      The two negative nods of the head were like reflections of each other.

      “Are you from Urun?”

      It was a denial again. The fish-boys were twins not only in appearance, but also in gestures, repeating each other minute by minute.

      “So why did you come? Who let you in? Who called you?”

      “You called us!”

      Their answer was baffling. What did they both mean? Lilophea’s gaze fell involuntarily upon the strings of the harp. She had only touched two of them, it seemed, and the two henchmen appeared. And what would happen if the rest of the strings were touched.

      “What do you deign?” The voices of the blue henchmen were like underwater echoes in a labyrinthine palace. “Have you any orders? Shall we sink a whole fleet for you? Ravage the coastal villages with the waves? Summon the kind of storm that would tear apart an entire nation?”

      Lilophea was speechless with surprise. Half of the children’s human faces expressed absolute innocence at such cruel questions.

      “What are we offering our services? You can do it all yourself, after all. You have the harp. We can only instruct you. Tell you which strings to touch to destroy the land world and harm no one underwater.”

      They were both already behind her. Their half-fish, half-human mouths pressed against her ears on either side and began whispering such ghastly promises that Lilophea’s nerves failed.

      “Go away! Go now!” She shouted at them. “I don’t want you both out of here in a second!”

      She saw the look of wild disappointment and even rage flash across their faces, but they swiftly put on a mask of polite indifference.

      “It is your command. You are our new Lady and heiress to the throne of the ocean.”

      In a moment they were gone, as if two mirrors had been removed. Only ripples twitched in the water where they had stood. One wonders what they meant by such loud titles. They must have been mistaken. She seemed to have become the queen of the seas, not the ocean. Well, what can you take from them? Stupid kids! Half fish, too! Surely those kids must be at least a few hundred years old by now, if not millennia.

      Lilophea didn’t want to touch the harp strings again, but somehow it came out on its own. Her fingers ran awkwardly over them, and again the beautiful but crushing music sounded. Lilophea was terrified that the entire underwater palace was about to collapse from her, but nothing of the sort happened. However, the mirror, which habitually showed the surface world, suddenly lit up excitedly, reporting some tragic events on earth. And the face of the morgen, cast on the body of the harp, suddenly became so ominous. The dainty statue’s lips stretched into a malevolent grin. Lilophea felt even creepier. She released the harp from her hands, but it did not fall, but sank smoothly to the console, as if it had been there all along.

      “What’s wrong?” Lilophea took the mirror and gasped. It turned out that a flood had just happened. It was in her native Aquilania. The sea had burst its banks with such force that it not only extinguished the coastal fires and overturned all the ships in the port, but also tore down part of the fortress wall. And it happened as soon as she accidentally played the harp. If there is magic in a harp, it is terribly evil. Who would think of presenting it to her at her wedding? Whoever thought of giving it to her at her wedding, and it turns out he meant evil.

      “You just don’t know how to use it,” came a squeak from one of the fish henchmen, who was no longer there, or someone else. Lilophea couldn’t believe it was the figure from the harp body that had spoken to her.

      “Play softly if you don’t want disasters!”

      Lilophea no longer wondered whose voice was instructing her. She watched in the mirror the damage that had inadvertently been done to her native shores. Many of the ambassadors’ ships sank or were reduced to splinters, crushed by the shattering waves. The swells that covered the shore took the form of greedy, destroying hands of sea giants. What is this if not wicked witchcraft?

      “Stop it!” It was the voice of Urun, who had suddenly burst into her chamber in a whirlwind. “Play no more, my lady! Please!”

      Remembering that she was now queen, he gave a low, servile bow.

      “Do not be angry with your servant!”

      Has he really become afraid of her? This came as an unpleasant surprise to Lilophea. And it was all about the harp, someone had left it here. She shouldn’t have touched it.

      “What had I done?” She could hardly understand it herself.

      “Your playing just flooded a part of the Etar,” he reported. “I’ve just come from there.”

      He’s hurtling through the water like a whirlpool. How can you be so fast?

      “Is that it?” Lilophea was glad to see it this time. Etar is the very state where they wanted to exile her as a concubine in a harem. Now she could get even with the local sultan. How fortunate that she had found the harp! If only she’d known what she’d do and not have to go after Aquilanía. “It would be well if all Etar were sunk. Is there a chance of that? Or do we need to add magic notes?”

      “We cannot, my lady!”

      “Can’t what?” She suddenly remembered that in addition to the Sultan and the harem, there are also ordinary people living there. Urun was referring to them. Since when does he care about people?

      “You cannot touch Etar, Madam?”

      “Why is that?”

      “There is an agreement,” Urun lowered his head guiltily.

      “Ah, that’s it… your pacts between Morgens and Men. Do they really have that much meaning and magical power?”

      “It is not to you, of course, but to us.”

      “And what’s so special about me? That I’m from earth?”

      This time Urun was silent.

      “By the way, where is my husband?”

      Urun shuddered when he heard her call Seal. Was he angry that she was actually calling herself queen that way, or was he just jealous?

      Urun’s tentacles and tail moved nervously. He wanted to do or say something, but he hesitated.

      “Is Seal still in the Empty City?” That’s what I think Urun himself called the place they were going to in the conversation. “Shall I go there too? After him! He is my husband now, after all. I have a right to him. Especially it is today. And if he decides to sail away from me, I have to go with him.”

      “You shouldn’t do that!” Urun’s eyes suddenly twinkled dangerously, like the points of two knives. “No one should go there.”

      “But you called your king there. Why, I wonder?”

      “Forgive me! I must go!” Urun bowed out so quickly that all she could see was the swirl of water turning into a whirlpool where he was standing. The water swirled in a column-like spiral for another minute.

      Lilophea was left alone. What to do now? Wait for Seal? Or take another stroll through the palace? She no longer wanted to experiment with the dangerous harp, but it suddenly began to play itself: softly, quietly and melodiously. The sound made her want to fall asleep. Lilophea was frightened that more disasters were about to start, but the mirror showed nothing more of the sort. The two boy fish didn’t appear again, either. But a golden-colored creature that looked either like a jellyfish or a baby suddenly whirled up behind her. Where did it come from?

      “Do you want to see the Empty City? Or walk across the Rainbow Bridges? Or see the drowned men tied to the anchors of sunken ships? One of them comes to life as soon as you touch the locket around its neck and tells you