Oceanborn
The coronation is over.But the battle has just begun.Nerissa Marin has won her crown. But can she keep it? Already, her ties to the human realm are driving a wedge between Nerissa and her people. When word arrives that her part-human prince consort, Lo, has been poisoned, she makes the difficult choice to leave Waterfell and return landside. As the royal courts debate her decision, even more disturbing rumors surface: a plot is rising against her, led by someone she least expects.On land, Nerissa learns another shocking truth–Lo does not remember who she is. As her choice to try to save him threatens her hold on her crown, changing loyalties and uncertainty test her courage in ways she could never have imagined. Nerissa will have one last chance to prove herself as a queen…and save the undersea kingdom she loves.
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The coronation is over.
But the battle has just begun.
Nerissa Marin has won her crown. But can she keep it? Already, her ties to the human realm are driving a wedge between Nerissa and her people. When word arrives that her part-human prince consort, Lo, has been poisoned, she makes the difficult choice to leave Waterfell and return landside. As the royal courts debate her decision, even more disturbing rumors surface: a plot is rising against her, led by someone she least expects.
On land, Nerissa learns another shocking truthâLo does not remember who she is. As her choice to try to save him threatens her hold on her crown, changing loyalties and uncertainty test her courage in ways she could never have imagined. Nerissa will have one last chance to prove herself as a queenâ¦and save the undersea kingdom she loves.
âItâs good to see you, Lo,â I whisper against his neck.
As if a spell has been broken, Lo pulls away, his eyes narrowing a fraction in frustration as he struggles to remember. âSo youâre Nerissa? Bertha told me that we were friends.â
âFriends,â I repeat, hearing my own voice break slightly on the word.
âWe went to school together, right? Dover?â
I swallow hot bile at his nervous recitation. Even prepared, his reaction comes as a shock. I donât even want to look at Bertha or Grayer, or even Echlios. I donât want to see the expressions on their faces. Instead I smile through trembling cheeks and watery eyes. âYes. We met at Dover. You donât remember me at all?â
The look in his eyes is tortured, as if heâs struggling to place me in his head. âThereâs a part of me that feels like it does know you,â he says, gesturing to his chest. âBut I canât remember it here.â His fingers jerk to his head and then flutter to his sides in a defeated motion. âIâm sorry.â
Praise for Amalie Howard and Waterfell, book 1 of The Aquarathi
âHoward has crafted a page-turning blend of magical realism and fantasy.⦠Plot shifts, surprises, and a love affair not yet fully realized sets readers up for the second in the fascinating trilogy.â
âBooklist
âA fantastical surf-and-turf romance.â
âKirkus Reviews
âExhilarating, romantic, and totally unique, Waterfell is an absolute page-turner!â
âKristi Cook, New York Times bestselling author of the Winterhaven series
For my brothers, Gian Kris and Givan Kyle, who are the true ninjas.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Oceanâroll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruinâhis control
Stops with the shore.
âLord Byron
We are savage. We are proud. We are the dark rulers of the sea.
Deep in the ocean near the earthâs core, I survey the Aquarathi peopleâa firestorm of colorâas the four courts pay homage to their new queen. Closest to me, the Gold Court stands quietly proud. The Sapphire Court is flamboyant in their tribute. The Emerald Court, more demure. But the Ruby Court, I watch with silent, cautious eyes. Months before, they supported a rival queen in her bid against the High Court, and she almost won.
Almost.
The great hall of Waterfell is deep and cavernous, with cobbled golden stalactites and stalagmites spanning its entire length to meet in the middle like majestic columns. In the human world, I learned about the marble pillars of the ancient Greeks. Ours remind me of the pictures I saw of theirs, only the ones around me are far older and more forbidding. The floor glitters with all manner of earthly minerals, reflecting off our bodies like prisms.
Today we celebrate my coronation as heir to the High Court. In Aquarathi society, itâs a pivotal milestone, one made even more momentous by the fact that my fatherâthe last kingâis dead. If he were alive, years from now he would be the one to transfer the proverbial baton to me. The endorsement from one ruler to another is a vital piece of our tradition. An Aquarathi coronation isnât the same as humans might expect from what they know of royalty in the media, but power is passed from the old monarch to the new one in a ritual thatâs just as significant.
Aivana, which translates into the human language as beautiful flower, refers to an ancient Aquarathi practice. Like Sanctum, it is a gift born to those of royal blood. In our world, when kings or queens die, they can bequeath their power, should they so choose, to a next of kin. Aivana is not only a transfer of Aquarathi energy from one ruler to the next; itâs a transfer of trustâa blessing of sorts from the old to the new.
