Chapter 71

  As the sailors began gathering wood for what Nereida assumed would become a bonfire, she headed to the sandy beach. Ael walked beside her, holding her hand. Nereida gnced back at her children, sleeping in the shade of a tree as the sailors worked. Basiano was near them, his daughter sleeping in a basket that one of the crew had emptied for her.

  “Where are we going?” Ael asked softly.

  “Unfortunately, love, we aren’t going anywhere. I need to dip beneath the waves to see Kana and Jules.” She smiled at Ael's shocked expression. “Sorry, love, in all the chaos I didn’t tell you that Jules is underwater. It takes magic for him to breathe the air, and if he stayed up here, the chance of him surviving was….” She shook her head, unwilling to voice it. She had grown fond of the boy. “Kana is tending to him while her husband seeks out the locals.”

  “And he should be back soon?”

  “Soon.” Nereida managed to not blurt out “unless he ran into trouble.” She didn’t want to give voice to her worries. Nothing made worries into reality faster. “When I come up, will you fix up my hair? As best you can?” She ran her fingers through the short locks. Her hair was starting to grow back, but it seemed painfully slow. Ael smiled shyly, bringing her own fingers into Nereida’s hair. The siren leaned into her wife’s gentle hand, wishing they could escape their predicament in each other’s touch. The beach was horribly crowded, and the chance for them to find any alone time was slim to nil.

  “I find I’ve grown fond of this,” Ael whispered teasingly, her touch slightly less gentle. She let go, a reluctant sigh escaping the Admiral. “I’ll be here when you come back for air, love.”

  Nereida stripped out of her outerwear, leaving only her thin shift on. She had no boots, but didn’t need them where she was going. She headed into the waves, pausing only to blow a kiss to her wife before she dove under and swam toward where she knew Kana had set up shelter. The smart siren had set up a makeshift shelter of reeds and broken barrels not too far from shore. She had purposefully set her shelter up to be able to leave easily to nurse, and so that Nereida, uncomfortable being submerged for more than half an hour or so, could come and go. She hummed a greeting, the siren’s song-like nguage that carried beneath the water. Nereida hummed back, the response automatic now. Jules had taught her more of their nguage since the rescue, as had Kana who was uncomfortable speaking the “market tongue” of the nd dwellers.

  “He lives,” Kana informed her. She kept her words simple, knowing Nereida struggled. “He will wake. You and your small ones saved him. Be proud.”

  “I am grateful,” was Nereida’s response. She reached out to touch the unconscious boy’s hand.

  “You care,” the siren hummed, another feeling or word that she did not quite understand. Seeing Nereida’s confusion, the woman tried again. “You care big.”

  “He’s crew.” Nereida shrugged, as if it was nothing. Kana raised her eyebrow and her mouth quirked up into a smirk.

  “You aren’t ship-folk, to use their words.”

  “I am. Tooth is my ship too.” It was so hard to get across the subtleties. She wished she could hear Jules tell a story in this nguage. She imagined it was beautiful. Or painful…. Depending on the story.

  A voice carried across the water.

  “Found them. Coming back, be there soon. They want to meet the Dolphin and her wife, dawn tomorrow.” It was Kana’s husband, Nereida was quite certain. He had never given his name, still fearful of her, of the nd-dwelling folks who took his daughter so she might live. Kana touched her shoulder gently.

  “Will you meet them?” she hummed. Nereida nodded. They had no real choice. Politics and religion everywhere she went! “I will pass the message to my husband. Go back to shore. I will be up in two hours to feed the child.” Nereida started to swim away but paused. She had another favour to ask, one she did not wish the crew to hear. As much as they were crew and family of a sort, they had no pce in this part of her life.

  “Friend?”

  “Yes, Dolphin's Revenge?”

  “If the egg hatches into a child who needs milk… will you?” She motioned as if holding a child to her breast. Kana’s face softened, a grief in her eyes that she usually tried so hard to hide.

  “You would trust me with the….” she sang something Nereida did not understand. Huffing, the siren tried again. “You would trust me with the dragon-child?”

  “Yes.”

  “You honour me more than you understand, Dolphin. This is not lightly done.”

  “It is not lightly asked,” Nereida replied.

  “Should you need me, I will happily help you.” Kana sounded sincere, almost awed, though Nereida could not be sure if what she heard was how Kana meant it. Still, she smiled with relief.

  “Thank you, friend.”

  She swam off, hearing Kana as the woman sang their reply with long, deep tones that carried. Such messages carried remarkably far in the water, could go faster than anyone could swim or even fly. The sirens lived in small communities far apart from one another, but could communicate as easily as sending a letter. You just had to listen. It was remarkable magic, though the sirens didn’t think of it as such. To them, it was just life. Just how things were done. It was likely why Nereida and her boys always heard the ocean singing; it wasn’t the ocean itself, but the songs of the sirens, unfiltered and untransted, haunting and beautiful.

  It was a strange comfort to know that she had never really been alone.

  Nereida swam back to shore, relieved at being able to breathe air, to not have to concentrate. The longer she spent beneath the waves, the easier it became, but it was not something she could do without thought.

  “You were gone a while, love,” Ael said in greeting, her tone deceptively light.

  “It’s a bit of a swim.” Nereida drew closer to her wife, stepping out of the ocean. She used her magic to encourage the water in her clothing and hair to return to the ocean. Water always seeks to be together, and so it happily went, leaving her dry as she stepped onto the sand. “Jules is doing well. Hopefully he will wake up tomorrow,” Nereida reported, hoping to start with the easy thing first. Ael smiled softly. She had clearly been worried as well, as much as she grumbled about the boy. “But the locals want to meet us.”

  “Court on the sandy beach?” Ael joked, an edge to her tone.

  “Better court than religious ceremony.” Nereida kissed her wife’s cheek. “And Kana will help nurse our little one if she is born needing milk.”

  “Dragons don’t drink milk. They are lizards.”

  “Babies drink milk,” Nereida replied. Ael rolled her eyes. “We don’t know what she will be. Now… you promised to try and get my hair into something like a braid. We don’t have much time before the fire, and I need to… I need to look the part.”

  “You are every bit the part if you were in rags, love.” But Ael dug a few spare ribbons out of her pocket. She guided Nereida to a nearby log that had been hollowed out. Nereida perched on the log and her wife stood behind her.

  Ael’s deft fingers twisted, teased and untangled Nereida’s hair, her motions precise and firm. The first touch was hesitant.

  “What does it mean if we do each other's hair?” Nereida asked softly.

  “If I let you do my hair, love, it means I’ve lost my senses,” Ael replied, kissing her temple. Nereida snickered. “It’s intimate. Not a thing discussed in polite company. If you ever hear in court that someone has been “doing her dyship’s hair on the side” it indicates an affair.” Nereida smiled. There was a simple joy in having her wife pamper her by doing her hair. She understood, a little in the moment, why the doing of one’s hair was considered intimate. “If you hear someone say a dy’s braid is tangled, it is usually a term for an unwanted pregnancy, implied to be an affair child.”

  “No buns in the oven?” Nereida asked. Ael tugged a strand tightly and began wrapping the ribbon around an end.

  “I’ve heard it. Sounds like a peasant’s term.”

  “Probably is,” Nereida admitted. Ael’s deft hands were now on her shoulders, right near her neck, rubbing gently. Nereida leaned back, letting her wife work the tension from her muscles. She felt like melting into the sand.

  “I’d do more for you, love, but I just got your hair up and presentable.” Ael kissed Nereida’s ear. “Shall we return to the fire, or run off into the woods.” Nereida giggled helplessly.

  “Fire,” she replied. “I don’t want to hear what Epelda will have to say to either of us if we aren’t at the bonfire.”

  Carefully, Nereida stood, and touched her hair. She could feel two thin braids that wrapped from her temples to the back of her head like a little crown.

  “If I was twenty years younger, I’d get you to add wildflowers to my hair,” Nereida said with a smile. “As, I’m not exactly the spring maiden.” Ael ughed.

  “I like this wild sea witch that I call my wife better than any spring maiden.”

  Together, hand in hand, they approached the fire which had already begun to roar. Someone was finishing up a song as they approached, but the crowd parted enough to let Ael and Nereida close to the fire. Nereida tried not to flinch away from the intense heat. This was a bonfire, a thing of joy. It was not a torturer’s device for pain. She squeezed her wife’s hand, and sat beside her, content to let others go before her. The crowd closed in on them, encircling them in a protective manner.

  But before long, there was a lull in the performances. Nereida took her cue, and headed to the center.

  “I am Princess Nereida,” she began, “and this is my tale, in full, in truth.” She noticed Kana was feeding the baby near her brother, and saw the woman’s posture change. Her back straightened, and she was paying more attention. Nereida noticed Ael shift as well, from adoring wife to suspicious Admiral in a single breath.

  Nereida id bare her story, from her mother finding her, to her finding out about her magic as a child, to hearing her father calling her abomination, to life on the sea with the sylphs, and then falling in love for the first time. She never used his name, calling him only her husband to be, her husband, and, twice, bastard. She spoke of calling to the sirens, to being offered survival if she killed a survivor, of choosing to end her bastard former husband, watching the light leave his eyes. She faltered here, looking up at her children, but both were asleep, while Epelda sat next to them, humming. She was a good girl, Epelda. She continued the tale without mercy for herself, speaking of falling in love with a sylph who had saved her. Of watching the woman die when she did not have the strength to save her and her children. She saw the mood shift, as a few older crew looked to Ael for her reaction. But Ael knew the tale, and knew what it meant for them. They had even spoken about it. If there was to be a choice, Nereida would ALWAYS choose her children, over everyone. Even Ael. And so Ael’s Admiral persona did not crack or change.

  She continued, telling them of healing Ael, of making a vow to Evander, though she made none of the vow public to protect him. She spoke of scuttling the demon ship with the help of dolphins. Thankfully, no gold changed hands. She may have lost her mind at them if it had. She continued speaking, telling them of the egg, for those who had not been there the first night had only heard rumours. She cimed the egg as her child, as Ael’s child, made while wearing the forms of dragons. Some, it was clear, had not believed the fanciful tale. But she took out the romance, id bare her fear and the strangeness of it. By the end, they all believed. By the end, she was spent, her emotions raw, her true story fully revealed. Ael’s eyes were on the crew, not on her, as if searching for who would betray her. But she seemed to find no one, and with her story done, Nereida colpsed to the ground beside her wife.

  She had expected to cry, after baring her soul to the crew. She had expected to hear more reactions. Instead, there was a silence over the crew. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and looked up at Evander.

  “That’s enough for tonight,” he said softly. “Rest, ma’am.” She opened her mouth to apologize for telling part of his tale, but he held up a hand. “I know. Off te bed, ma’am. I still outrank ya for now,” he winked at his Admiral who grumbled back goodnaturedly. “Don’t make me order ya.”

  “I’m going,” she replied, not able to summon up the energy to tease him. Instead, after she got to her feet, she threw her arms around him. He squeaked indignantly, and then sighed.

  “Touchy-feely princess. Go te bed!”

  The princess and admiral y down on ferns, pulling cloaks over them. Epelda and the boys slept nearby, Epelda holding the egg gently, protectively. She would make a good big sister, Nereida thought as sleep cimed her for the night. She fell asleep held by Ael, beneath the clear sky and shadowy light of the moon.

  But Nereida’s sleep was interrupted when small hands pinched her awake. She sat upright, suddenly chilled.

  “Mommy?” Epez’s little voice shook. She blinked, sleep making her thoughts slow. She pulled her son into her arms out of habit. “Mommy, step mama’s gone.” The sleep burned from her brain in an instant. She looked around. Ael’s cloak was gone, her hat left behind. There were crew on patrol who held torches. She could not see Ael’s form anywhere.

  “What woke you, baby?” she asked, keeping her voice carefully controlled. Her son could not know how much her fear spiked.

  “A big scary dream,” he said softly. “You need to find her mommy, or something bad happens.” Nereida swallowed her fear.

  “I will, honey, but let’s get you back to sleep first.”

  “No, Mommy! Go!” He stomped his foot. He lifted his hand and pointed to the woods. “That way.”

  She considered ignoring her child, tucking him in and then searching, but she suspected he was a Star Reader. If he was, and she ignored him, then something could happen to Ael. She kissed her son on his head.

  “Go y down next to Uncle Bassi. Don’t wake him. I’ll be back.” He grinned and nodded, before heading over to his uncle to steal the man’s bnket. Nereida stood, grabbing her cloak with one fluid motion, and she strode purposefully into the dark woods to find her wife. Once she was clear of her son’s sight, she picked up her pace, her fear knotting in her stomach. She hoped fervently that her son had only had a nightmare, and not a vision.

  “Ael!! Where are you?”