The castle within the cave had an aquatic hue to its icy pillars, towers, and steps. Given by the suns' rays reflecting light off the cave's salt-deposited walls. But when the night came, and the moon sat high, the castle shimmered white and glassy as it had on this night.

Marina and I, approached the castle wrapped tightly in our blueish-gray seal skin robes, giving our bodies the appearance that we were much larger than we really were, and our heads much smaller, like the size of coconuts, which they were not.

I raised my chin higher, following the castle's icy walls as they rose and expanded, growing taller with each step. It only took a year for the Coralantians to construct the massive structure, yet it still sat dwarfed inside the enormous, hollowed chamber.

Shadows hung on the top of the roofs of the cave, even on the brightest of days, making it impossible to know how large the chamber stood. But I always looked up nervously, imagining that the shadows concealed dark-winged beasts that hung off the stones with dagger claws. Watching us. Waiting for the right moment to strike. I shivered, lost in the shadows, until the moon appeared in the massive rounded hole in the roof, bringing with it a whitish glow.

"Race you!" Marina giggled, shoving past me.

I snapped, "Marina!" And outstretched my arms to help regain stability. Once my legs felt firm, I furrowed my eyebrows and darted in pursuit. "You know we shouldn't be running through here!'

Marina giggled. She ran like she belonged in the caves. Moving barbarically between salt deposit, over mounds, and under cavernous archways. "You best keep up or the Skeq might get you!"

The word brought a shiver down my spine. I peered again at the castle, now able to see it clearly. A dozen twisted icy pillars and two ice statues of half man, half fish guarded the grand staircase and entry. Twisted icy spires rose from the structure like icicles, while grand and minor pointed-arched windows were evenly spaced apart; fit with sheets of ice. The donjon at the center was three times as thick, tall, and twisted as any tower, extending into the shadows above.

I bit my lip, arched my back, and turned my legs quicker. "Oh, no you don't ..."

My leg muscles screamed as I glided from foot to foot. Gaining two steps on Marina for every one of her own. Behind me, wavy blondish-white strands rolled like waves. Caught up in the cold exertion of wind I'd conjured with my own quickness. Each step drove a sharp pain up my calves while my lungs ached with each breath. It was a good ache and pain. On I welcomed.

Marina's giggles grew louder. I could see the golden-white glow of her head, bobbing and disappearing behind salt mounds. The castle spires began vanishing behind the rising pillars until only the pillars stood before them, guarding two bluish doors made of thick sheets of ice. By the time we'd made it to the grand staircase, I was only a few steps behind. Marina must've felt me gaining ground; she ascended the steps two at a time like the cave dweller she imitated. I was nimble, gliding between each step on my toes.

Almost there ...

By the fourth row of steps I saw the top. Only two rows stood lef, that and the pillars that marked the finish. I took one last breath of the icy air, giving my body the shock it needed. A surge of energy swelled through me, and I bursted forward, unsure if I was touching steps or flying.

We crossed the pillars, collaping and giggling.

"I. Beat. You." Marino said, her lungs seeming to have far more difficulties than my own. She touched her chest, working to ease her breath.

I gave a convincing shake. "Not a chance."

"Did too." Marina coughed. "By at least a head."

"You must have jelly stuck in your eyes again. I clearly overtook you on the last set."

"The only thing you took was second place-"

"Now girls, there will be enough of that," said a man, who stood over them frozen like one of the ice statues.

He looked at them through eyes that were blue and white as a morning chill. His skin was pale and thick with muscles, covered in a bluish-white chest plate, greaves, and gauntlets. Attached at his breast was a round pin with our sigil: A half man, half fish; pinned to a sky blue cape that draped down the left side of his frame. In his right hand was a long, golden staff with a three-pronged head that'd been bloodied and cleaned many times over the years. And on his head sat a bluish-white helm, with a great fin top, and an opening that displayed only his white, fuzzy chin, thin lips, long skinny nose, and those cold blue eyes.

"Mirr Martuss!" We shouted and leaped up, wrapping our arms around his hip.

He stood firm and straight lipped, patting our heads.

"I won, didn't I?" Marina said so convincingly I almost believed it her.

I took the modest approach by staying silent.

Mirr Martuss looked between us, holding back his tongue as he had done a thousand times with the King. "It seem to me it was a tie."

We looked at each other, exchanging disagreeable looks.

"It seems Mirr Martuss is the one whom has jelly in his eyes," Marina giggled.

I nodded. "So it seems."

Mirr Martuss sighed, then stroked each of our heads again. "I am getting old, you two. Now. We must be off. Your father wants to see you."

He led them through the two large sheets of ice that made up the door of the castle. I felt a strange warmth working away the cold in my cheeks. The was made of ice, but inside was warm; the snow was packed so tightly the wind could not penetrate the inside.

As we followed, I looked around at the inner chambers where a large icicle chandelier hung just above a grand, ascending stairwell. Banners of ocean blues and shell whites hung off the balconies while dozens of ice statues of merfolk, stood suspended in time, holding tridents in their poses of valor, to strike down the tentacle humanoids they were fighting.

We ascended the stairwell, and I placed my hand on the railing, welcoming the cold that the ice produced against her warm palm. Ice busts of fallen Coralantian warriors sat watching from plinths in between each railing. I tried to avoid eye contact wih them. Their firece faces alway scared me.

"That one there is Mirr Ramargant." Mairna said, pointing, giggling, and pulling on Mirr Martusses hand to guide him to another bust on the opposite side. "Oh, and that one there is Mirr Amamatus. He was the one that held the line while the rest of us escaped."

"I'm impressed." He smiled. "You do remember."

"How could I forget?"

How is right? I thought. All Marina wanted to do is glorify their martyr, while all I wanted to do is forget what happened.

We reached the top of the staircase and began down a hallway that seemed large and endless. The castle was in a stir. Coralantians in bluish-white robes, marked with the sigil of fins and flesh, seemed to glide down the hallways as if they were walking on water. Columns of knights clanked in formation, resting tridents on their hands and shoulders, while holding the stern looks of men ready for battle.

"What has got everybody in a rouse?" I asked, interrupting my sisters rant. She glared, but I pretended not to notice.

"That it what your father wants to talk to you about."

Once they reached the end of the hall, passing door after door of rooms that I had never been in, nor had any desire to do so, we entered the base of the donjon. Another staircase coiled up the wall, appearing thinner as it reached the top of the vaulted room. We all gazed upward and squinted, finally deciding to take the lift.

Several blue and white bodies glided out of the lift. Each face masked in the bothersome looks that only meant trouble. They hurried past them, eyes forward, whispering in their old coralantian tongues. I worked to listen, only catching a few harsh words and unspoken phrases.

"Come aboard, young corals." Mirr Martuss waved his hand.

Marina and I stepped into a narrow room and onto a platform. It was cold and slick. Mirr Martuss closed the door behind us, then gestured them to hold on to the railing. I did so while Marina stood unafraid in the center

Mirr Martuss inspected both girls, then pulled a lever. My feet rattled. No. It was the platform. I looked up the vast shaft that rose and rose into the blackness above until a burst of energy drove us upward. My stomach dropped, and for a moment I felt like I was flying. We stopped as quickly as we'd started. .

Mirr Martuss out-stretched a hand, pulling Marina from the floor.

"I almost stayed upright," she said, as he opened a door, guiding her to the King's level.

"Almost. But not quite. One day your legs will be strong enough." He held out his hand for me and I took it, hoping he didn't notice I was trembling. "It's all over, young coral." We hurried off the platform.

"How does it work," Marina asked, sticking her head back into the lift.

Mirr Martuss turned and guided her toward the throne room. "Beneath the platform is a stream, and like a geyser, the stream builds pressure until released."

"And the lever releases it, correct?" Marina didn't wait for his approving nod. "I thought so."

We walked down another vast hallway that paralleled with the one on the lower level. On both sides were many icy doors to many more rooms I had no business being in. Though I was more curious about what hid behind these doors.

The hallway opened up into the throne room. It was as grand and spacious as many of the largest chambers in the cave. It was colder here. I felt it as I entered. A cold met with worrisome thickness in the air.

Everywhere I turned stood the Coralantian Lords in their blueish-white robes. Each one waiting upon the king to bring him their news and quarrels. Though on this day, it seemed like only one thing was on their minds.

A lengthy, thin man, gowned in a brightest blue robe, with a long, white pointed beard, and frosted blue eyes approached the Kings throne. His slightly wrinkled face told of the many wise years he had, yet also told of the many wise years left to be had.

Uncle Malos raised the short trident in hand to speak. "My King. My brother. I bring you grave news from the outside."

A burly man peered down from a throne of pointed blue ice. An aurora of light cast upon him, produced by the watching moon. His beard was frosted white. Robe the bluish-white only found on an icy mountain lake, matching his eyes. On his head sat a crown that was tall and heavy, weighing down on his thick neck; golden and embedded with shimmering sapphires. He was the King of the ocean. The King of the Bright Isles. The King of the Coralantians ... and he was my father.

"Yes, Malos, what news do you and the Lord Elders bring?"

"Some say grave new, King Kharsos," Malos bowed his head, extending the short trident higher. "But I say it's a blessing."

Father flicked his eyes at our arrival then turned them back upon his brother. He rubbed his beard that soft as silk.

Kharsos's voice boomed, "and what blessing is this?"

"That the landwalkers are on the move. We have spotted a small party heading towards the Loch." He saw the King's pondering eyes. "Two, to be exact. A man and a boy."

"Which means?"

"We believe they're the King and prince of their clan." Malos's smile was sharp and sly. "Together we can go to them and offer treasure and peace."

Kharsos brought his hands down onto the arms of the throne. "And what does my treasure and peace buy me?"

"An army," Malos bowed then turned, rising his head towards the audience. They whispered in hopeful agreement and defiant disapproval. "We all know how strong the Skeq are in the water. The only way we can defeat them is by land. And it'd take an army of landwalkers to do so. We can get their help."

The crowd roared. I looked around nervously. Could uncle be right? Could these landwalkers be our saviors?

"I ask each of you," Malos voice struck firm as he guided the trident upon them. He faced the King. "And I ask of you, brother. How much longer will we live in fear? How much longer will we hide? Are we to be left forgotten, and to die hidden away from the world? Or are we to stand up and fight the Sqek, give tribute to those who sacrificed themselves for our survival, and find libertarian for us all? What will we do?"

Father looked to us once more, and there he stayed, rubbing his beard, pondering what was likely our future.