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  I shook my head and snorted.

  ‘You know, you have shocking manners for a king, if that’s what you really are.’

  Marko swallowed the bread down and grinned.

  He reached for another dish.

  ‘Cherry tomatoes and asparagus,’ he announced brightly, placing the grilled vegetables in front of me.

  I held back from ravishing the entire dish and waved it away with a flick of my wrist. Did he think he could bring me to my knees with food, like Superman’s kryptonite?

  ‘They’re grown hydroponically. My late father introduced this method of growing vegetables, to Marin fifteen years ago, and now we don’t have to trade for them. We grow a variety of produce in the fields, also.’

  Ignoring all the vegetable talk, I stood up and took a deep breath. My hands shook with rage, so to steady them I gripped the edge of the table.

  Marko stared up at me with unblinking eyes, his expression hard to read.

  ‘I don’t know if what you’re saying about this being an underwater world is true or not. But I don’t belong here. What you’ve done is wrong and is against the law.’

  Marko set the dish he’d been holding down with a loud clunk.

  ‘I understand, Miranda. When Sylvia devised this plan, I was against it at first. But when I realised how imperative it was to Marin’s survival, I agreed—reluctantly, yes; but I agreed.’ His steely eyes bored up into mine. ‘After you hear the full story, about the danger Marin is in, I’m sure you will too.’

  ‘They aren’t my dangers.’

  Marko shook his head and snorted. ‘Oh, but they are, Miranda. If my brother, Damir, and his followers were to overtake the castle, they’d have the only possible access from Marin to the outside world—your world. The results would be disastrous for us all.’

  ‘So why doesn’t he just take the throne?’

  Marko threw the remaining half of his bread roll at the cherry tomatoes and asparagus, and rose, kicking his chair back as he did so. I cowered beneath his height and inched my fingers towards the dinner knife, just in case I needed to use it.

  ‘Damir is banished from the castle and has a death warrant on his head, but being my older brother he still has legal rights to the throne after I die—unless I have an heir.’ He sighed and leaned forward against the table. ‘After three generations in Marin, the women have all become barren. I believe it’s something to do with the lack of sunlight or moon cycles.’ He drained his wine goblet and swallowed, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘That’s why I need you.’

  I shook my head. ‘I won’t do it.’

  He watched me for a moment before he sighed and collapsed into his chair.

  ‘Nobody is going to force you to do anything right now. I understand you’re not yet eighteen. I’m happy to wait until you give permission.’ He poured himself more wine and took a sip. ‘But the longer you wait, the more danger we’ll all be in.’

  I shook my head from side to side and backed into the wall.

  ‘You’ll die waiting, then, because I’m not going to be doing anything with you—ever.’

  Marko cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

  ‘With all due respect, Miranda, you and I won’t be doing anything at all. It will be done artificially.’ He paused to stare up at me with raised brows, his eyes inquisitive. ‘Unless you want—’

  ‘Of course not!’ I interjected.

  Heat flooded my cheeks and I pressed my cool palms against them.

  ‘One more thing I forgot to mention.’ Marko raked a hand through his hair and avoided my eyes. ‘The people of Marin are traditional. No babies born out of wedlock. So, unfortunately, there has to be a wedding.’ He sighed and leaned back in his chair. ‘Sylvia says that, if we get to know each other, become friends first, then none of this will seem so bad.’ He looked up at me to gauge my reaction.

  ‘You don’t behave very much like a king,’ I said, in a flash of anger. ‘Sylvia seems to run the show and you just do whatever she wants.’ The way Marko’s face changed so swiftly from benevolent to hostile, then and there, had me shaking in my golden sandals. ‘That’s just how it looks to me,’ I tacked on, meekly.

  ‘You don’t know a thing about what it’s like to be a young king,’ he snapped, his eyes blazing.

  ‘And you don’t know what it’s like to be a young captive.’

  Marko held my gaze for a long time before he swore and dropped his head in his hands, running long fingers through his thick, dark hair.

  ‘This is going nowhere,’ he groaned, standing up and marching across the room.

  He rapped his knuckles against the door. Robbie opened it.

  ‘It’s time for Miranda to leave,’ Marko said, his voice tight.

  I rushed through the door, and glanced back to see Marko fixing me with pensive eyes. The dinner obviously hadn’t panned out as he had expected. It hadn’t for me, either. If anything, I’d possibly made my situation worse. Why couldn’t I have appealed to the side of him that hated this idea as much as I did?

  ‘If she’s feeling up to it, give her a tour of the castle. It will help her to adjust.’ Marko clapped a hand against Robbie’s shoulder and gripped it at the same time—an intimate gesture. It was obvious they were close.

  ‘I’ve ordered the gardens to be cleared; however, be on guard. And tomorrow, take her to the sorting room after breakfast. She’ll work like everybody else.’ He spoke like I wasn’t there, and I was too numb to care.

  Robbie nodded his head.

  We walked in silence, our brisk footsteps the only sound. But halfway back to my room the intense strains of the piano, a complex, dark piece, drifted over my shoulders like invisible fingers. I pictured Marko, bent over the keys, venting out his frustrations, and shivered before turning my thoughts to my grandparents and Lauren.

  What were they doing right now, on the night of my birthday, without me? The thought tightened around my throat and chest like an iron clamp and stopped me in my tracks. I leaned against the wall to steady myself, to catch my breath, the cool, rough stone beneath my flattened palms. Tears blurred my vision.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Robbie asked. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him shift his weight from one foot to another and flex his hands open and shut.

  ‘Did…did Marko hurt you?

  I blinked away my tears and met his dark, shining eyes.

  ‘No.’ I exhaled a wobbly breath. ‘It’s my birthday today.’ I wiped my runny nose with the back of my hand. ‘Right now, my sister and my grandparents probably think I’m dead.’ I curled my hands into fists and smashed them hard against the wall.

  Robbie winced and inhaled sharply, looking about ready to punch a wall himself—as though he cared. Was this some kind of act? Or did he actually feel bad about bringing me here?

  Sucking in a deep, shuddery breath, I threw him a glare so hateful I hoped it would tear open his chest and punch his heart. He visibly paled, to a shade paler than usual, and cleared his throat as though he was choking up. I looked away and continued on towards my room with mixed feelings. Sure, I hated the guy. But I was starting to believe he was suffering a bit too. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe his guilt was my ticket out of here. It was definitely food for thought.

  ‘Let me show you the city, Miranda. It will help take your mind off things,’ he said, as he opened the door. ‘But bring a jacket. It’s cooler outside at night, when the light crystals burn low.’

  I was about to ask where I’d find a jacket when I saw that Robbie’s chair had been replaced with a wardrobe.

  He strode over to it and pulled out a furry brown cardigan. I slipped it on, my fingers trembling over the buttons.

  I was finally going to see this city everybody was talking about.

  There was no denying the curiosity that swarmed my insides. Part of me wanted to believe that an underwater city existed. Because, if Marin didn’t exist, it would mean that all of these people here, my captors, were clinically insane. And I di
d not want to be at the mercy of crazy people.

  I followed Robbie out of the room, and he ordered me to stand still with my eyes shut. A strip of cloth covered my eyes.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, his breath warm at the base of my neck, when a strand of hair got caught in the knot he’d tied.

  He ushered me in a direction I had no hope of committing to memory—if I ever had the fortune of outrunning all the guards and attempting a proper escape. We walked most of the way in relative silence, apart from me stubbing my toe and slipping along the stone floor in my sandals twice. A few minutes later, Robbie gripped my arm tighter and drew me to a stop.

  A husky female voice said something in another language and Robbie answered fluently in what I recognised as French. What was she saying and what was with all the languages in this place?

  ‘What did you just say?’ I asked, but he didn’t answer. I wished I had taken more notice when Mum was trying to teach Lauren and me French, using a CD set from the library. It was titled, Learn the Language of Love, but the only phrase that managed to stick inside my brain was les haricots, which means ‘the beans.’

  Something creaked and scraped—a door, presumably— before a blast of cool air lifted my hair and sprayed it across my face. I tilted my head back and sucked in a deep lungful. The air smelled fresh, like spring blossoms and grass and earth. I took several gulps of it.

  We took more steps—slower, more careful steps. The cold air enveloped me more softly now and I began to hear an avalanche of sounds. I heard, weirdly enough, birds flapping and screeching, as well as distant voices and people laughing. It was the sweet hum of civilisation.

  My stomach did a summersault. I wanted to rip off the blindfold. I wanted to see.

  ‘Here. Rest your hands here,’ said Robbie, placing my palms on a rough, cold surface.

  His voice was full of excitement, like that of a little boy ready to present his parents with the latest picture he’d drawn at kindergarten. He fumbled with the blindfold before it slipped away and I blinked rapidly.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw in front of me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘THIS IS MARIN,’ Robbie announced, his voice deep with reverence.

  I gasped and swayed on my feet as I looked out over the balcony, at the glittering sea of lights below that resembled nothing remotely close to Bob’s Bay. The tiny lights formed several rings, concentric circles, which appeared to be the base structure of the entire city. They reminded me of those geometric patterns that randomly appear stamped into cornfields all over the world—except these were solid shapes that rose up into ascending tiers. Each of these tiers bore rows and rows of houses and buildings. Those I could see were painted white and studded with more tiny lights. The streets were crammed with people—hundreds of them, maybe more.

  The sharp ridges of the stone balcony dug into my cut fingertips as I gripped it to steady myself.

  ‘Where is the water?’ I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  ‘Down there.’ Robbie pointed to the wide channels of glossy water separating each circle of land, and to the gondola-shaped boats bobbing on the water’s slick surface, appearing miniature in the distance.

  ‘No, I mean the ocean. If we’re in an underwater city, then where is all the water?’

  He pointed to the sky, at what I believed to be the deep black of a starless night; but something about the colour, the density of it, made my chest tighten as though I’d just dived into a river of ice. A sense of vertigo descended upon me, as though all the blood from my head had drained to my feet, and I swayed.

  Robbie reached out and circled an arm around my waist to steady me, but I shrugged him off and leaned against the balcony wall instead. It was my first time beneath an ocean sky, and the first time a boy had put his arm around me. This moment could not have gotten any weirder.

  ‘You okay?’

  I nodded my head and kept my eyes down. It was safer to focus on the city, on the land—which extended as far as my eyes could see until darkness swallowed the farther regions, which I guessed was where Damir was hiding—rather than the false sky.

  ‘It’s huge. I mean, unbelievably huge.’ I shook my head.’I just can’t believe it.’

  ‘Shall I pinch you?’

  I heard the smile in his voice and stared up at him. For a fleeting moment I found myself smiling back.

  ‘I’ll do my own pinching, thanks.’ Using my thumb and forefinger, I pinched the underside of my arm, hard, until I flinched and pain flooded the point.

  I was still here. This incredible place was very real.

  ‘You’re not dreaming, Miranda,’ he said with a now-solemn face. ‘This beautiful place is your home now.’

  His words sent goosebumps prickling down my arms.

  ‘It’s beautiful, yes,’ I said, widening my eyes for emphasis. ‘But it’s not my home.’

  His brown eyes shone, reflecting the city’s light. He could easily have been a boy who’d taken his girlfriend up to the top of the Eiffel Tower. But he wasn’t. He was the guy who had taken me from my world—however crappy it had been—and brought me to this strange place, where I was expected to save a bunch of strangers, whom I already hated, from their dark fate.

  ‘With enough time you’ll grow to like it.’

  Without answering, I leaned forward and lost myself in the white noise of the city. People chatted and laughed down below. The faint strum of a guitar jangled from somewhere deep to the far left, and a woman’s soulful, melancholic singing voice drifted across the city from the right.

  A sudden urge to run screaming from Robbie, to escape into the city crowds, overtook me, but before I even got the chance Robbie moved closer, so close that the hard muscles of his arm brushed against mine. It was a gentle threat. I am close.

  ‘The weekend is my favourite time in the city,’ he said, before turning away from the view to lean against the wall and face the castle. He still remained within an inch of me, his bare arm warming my side.

  I got the vibe that he wanted to make small talk—maybe to calm me down, more than anything.

  ‘Do you ever leave the castle and just hang out?’

  Robbie chewed on my question for a while before he answered.

  ‘I’m Marko’s personal guard, so I don’t really get the opportunity to “hang out.” But, occasionally, while he’s at a meeting, or the rare times I’m off duty, I like to go to the main square. I usually sit beneath the fountain and listen to the musicians.’

  I nodded my head and wondered if I would get to do that sort of thing while I was here. It sounded a thousand times better than being stuck between four walls.

  I turned to inspect my prison from the outside, and gasped at the enormity of the huge white castle. Even tilting my head right back I couldn’t quite grasp its entirety. It wasn’t your typical European-style castle, like the ones in fairytales or Disney films. It was more Zen, with neat, even lines and, from what I could tell, a lack of turrets. The walls shimmered with crystals so bright they hurt my eyes.

  My gaze wandered across the castle grounds and I gasped at my first glimpse of greenery.

  ‘A garden,’ I whispered.

  There were trees, shrubs and an exotic array of flowers, all lit up by the same glowing crystals that seemed the primary power source around here. I left the balcony and walked, trance-like, towards the garden, kicking off the golden sandals and allowing my feet to caress the green grass.

  To my left a bird shrieked, the sound drawing me to pair of toucans sharing a perch in a large, gilded cage. I rushed up and with a surge of affection gave them names: Fruit and Loop. One of them had a scar above its right eye and instantly became my favourite. Other cages dangled from various tree branches, and I darted to each one, greeting an assortment of twittering birds, my fellow captives, wishing I could release them all. Then I collapsed onto the lawn and pressed my face into the grass, drawing in its strong earthy scent. The smell of wet dirt, of crisp green lawn, c
leared my head and made my heart yearn. I wanted to be home again, despite the amazing discovery of an underwater city. I wanted sunlight. And most of all, I wanted my family.

  On impulse I jumped up and touched one of the glowing crystals, allowing the dull heat to compensate for the warmth of the sun.

  ‘Light crystal,’ Robbie said over my shoulder, and I spun around, surprised I hadn’t heard him approach. He was ninja-like. I’d have to remember that.

  ‘It’s a poor substitute for the sun, but it does its job.’ He shrugged and skipped his eyes away from mine as though he was embarrassed by Marin’s lack of a real sun. ‘It provides us with virtual daylight, keeps us warm, helps ward off vitamin D deficiencies and gives off just enough light to help the plants grow.’

  He reached out to stroke the peach-coloured petals of a rose. ‘The crystals were already here when Marko’s grandfather discovered this place.’

  ‘Where does the oxygen come from?’ I asked, still skeptical despite all I’d seen. ‘People need oxygen to breathe—more than this garden can provide. That is,’ I narrowed my gaze at him, ‘those of us here who are human.’

  Robbie’s lips curved into a soft smile, revealing straight white teeth, and he shook his head slightly, his eyes warm with humour. ‘I can assure you that everyone here is human—me included.’ He waved a hand over the expanse of the city. ‘There are hundreds of oxygen chutes running underground, beneath this city. They all end at various points above sea level, on land, in different parts of the world.’

  My eyes shot to the black nether above and I trembled all over. ‘Just how deep are we?’

  ‘We’re miles below sea level. If we were to go out there, right now, our rib cages would crush like matchsticks.’

  Bile stirred in my gut. ‘So how did you bring me here, then, without my ribcage exploding?’

  He smiled again. ‘Light-crystal channels. They span the entire globe, an entire network, just like the oxygen chutes. It’s why Marin is such a cosmopolitan melting pot. Sylvia once told me Frano discretely invited a select number of people from multiple nations…’