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

it confirmed Lilophea’s hunch. “And you are my mistress now. Not because you are the new Queen of the Seas, but because the harp belongs to you from now on. As long as it is yours, I must serve you.

      “And what can you do for me? Destroy whole villages on the shores with your music? Sink cities?”

      “I don’t do that?”

      “Then who is?”

      “They are other strings.”

      “And what do you do?”

      “I am good for my master or mistress, depending on who owns the harp.”

      “What kind of use is it?” Lilophea found this suspicious, especially as the golden tentacles gripped tightly around her neck. She almost suffocated.

      “Well… I can give advice. It is quite useful advice. I also know all the ways under the water and can take you to the most curious corners of the underwater kingdom. And I can also put you to sleep with my music.”

      “Are you a harp spirit or something?” Lilophea guessed. There was a long silence in response.

      “You must be sleepy now,” the golden-haired spirit remarked. “My melody makes everyone sleepy. I can put a whole army to sleep when they’re about to engage in battle, or put all the guests at a noisy banquet to sleep. It is as soon as I play.”

      The luminous tentacles began to run slowly through Lilophea’s hair.

      “You’re beautiful!” The spirit remarked excitedly. “I’ve never had such a beautiful queen before. You make all our amusements more pleasant.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Well, I don’t live alone in a harp.”

      The spirit was right! She’s already seen two pageboys. The words froze on her tongue as the tentacles tugged at her hair until it hurt. The spirit must have decided that she was not only the prettiest, but also the silliest of his masters, and began to play with her like a doll.

      “Ouch, it burns!” The tentacles accidentally bumped into the crown in Lilophea’s hair and immediately released it. But to turn around and get a better look at the spirit was useless. He had already jumped back into the harp. He’s quick! And he is cunning, too, by the looks of it.

      “We’ll talk again when you wake.”

      Lilophea felt very sleepy. Perhaps she should sleep, as the spirit had advised. The harp shone and played by itself. The melody was marvelous. Along with it came a low voice that hummed, almost whispered something in an unfamiliar language. It was probably a sea dialect spoken by the Morgens. The morgen’s figure on the body of the harp seemed alive. For some reason it reminded her of the mermaid ship and the carved masts on it. What did the figures on that ship and this harp have in common? But there was no more strength to think. The melody penetrated deep into her consciousness, conjured up sparkling illusions, and Lilophea felt herself falling asleep.

      Bridge Labyrinth

      Again she dreamt of a ship, with something bursting out of the hold in a swirl of dazzling golden light. Someone’s voice was calling in her dream. Lilophea woke up, struggling to think where she was now.

      Certainly she was not on a mermaid ship, but right in the underwater kingdom. She was in the king’s bedroom, where Seal was still gone. But the bed here is as soft as a featherbed, though made inside a dead, empty shell. Breathing underwater was as easy as on the surface. Lilophea was no longer afraid that when she woke up, she would suffocate. Who would have thought it would be so easy to live underwater? The magic harp played itself for her. Without the help of the mermaid Yanin or any of the other tailed court maids. The gentle melody made her sleepy. A light golden glow spread around the harp strings. It really is better here than on earth. A voice of conscience squeaked a little: only a traitor not only to her family and friends, but to all earthly civilization, which the Morgens yearn to destroy, could think so. But that is exactly what Lilophea thought!

      “Hello to you, queen of the underwater world!” The pesky spirit once again hopped out of the harp and wrapped itself around Lilothea. Either it did not know such addresses as “good morning” or “good evening,” or did not know what time of day it was. In the underwater kingdom it was indeed difficult to tell, for the lighting here was always dusky.

      “What will it be? Shall I entertain you with a game?” The spirit kept up.

      “What else can you do?”

      “Well,” he was blatantly sly, pretending to think, “I can show you corners of the palace you can’t even imagine.”

      “I’m sure you can. The palace is as big as the bottom of the sea.”

      “There are many nooks and crannies that Seal would never allow you to see, but I can show you.”

      “Now that’s interesting,” Lilophea was wary.

      “You know, for example, the way to the Labyrinth Bridge, where you can get to any land kingdom while wandering over the sea.”

      “It’s somewhere on the surface,” she remembered going on a date with Seal on such a bridge and then finding herself underwater. The end of the bridge rested on the shore of Aquilania.

      “The bridge could be accessed from a hall with a picture of the sun on the door.”

      “I don’t believe it!”

      “Why don’t you check it out?” The spirit began to nudge Lilophea. It gained density, coiled itself around her, and almost pulled her out of bed. It was like a strong gust of wind that makes you move against your will.

      Lilophea wanted to scold him, but thought it was useless to swear at spirits. Not being material, they hardly realize that they can hurt anyone.

      “Hurry up!” The spirit urged. “You must hurry or Seal will return and our plan will be over. Go to the door with the sun and do not forget to take your harp with you.”

      “What’s that for?”

      “Silly girl, I can’t fly after you if the harp stays here!”

      Oh, that’s it! So he’s not free, he’s chained to the harp. So his arrogance is just a pose. The spirit is not as strong as he wants to be. Well, there’s no need to obey him then.

      Lilophea also decided to show her character – like a naughty girl, she showed the spirit her tongue and rushed to find the right hall herself.

      “Wait, what about me,” the abandoned spirit yelled on the threshold of the bedroom. He couldn’t seem to cross the threshold into the room where his harp remained. Lilophea turned over her shoulder and shouted mockingly:

      “I will check your words and come back. Don’t be bored!”

      The harp music behind exploded with mournful notes. So be it! She had had enough of the spirit. She wanted to feel free. Though how could she be free if she was a prisoner of the undersea kingdom? Perhaps after being in the same room with a gossiping spirit for more than an hour, she would feel free, even in a dungeon, if the spirit weren’t there. It seems that the music of the harp is pleasant, but the spirits that accompany it strongly resemble possessors. Once you listen to the harp, you are in their power. They beckon, press on consciousness, hypnotize. It is much more comfortable without them.

      The water dragons, which at first might have been mistaken for the moldings on the pillars, crawled overhead and slowly followed Lilophea, as if they were supposed to be her bodyguards in Seal’s absence. Though what was there to guard the king’s wife from in his own palace? Is it no coincidence that Seal is so overprotective? Could that creature who yelled angrily at the wedding be dangerous? Or was it the one imprisoned behind walled-up doors in the king’s chambers that should be feared?

      Right now Lilophea didn’t want to think about that. She hurried excitedly toward