Chapter 47

  Ael had never expected to be disappointed by a story, but the one Nereida told her of saving her the night of the broken mizzenmast was surprisingly boring. Likely because she had lived most of it, and had pieced together more. It did, however, expin why Epelda and Evander had begun to protect and care about her.

  “Why?” Ael asked. “We barely knew each other then. Why risk your secret?” They were still in bed together, the nail having fallen from the candle that served as an arm. Outside it was dark. Nereida brought her hand up to Ael’s face, touching her tenderly.

  “I’d already started feelings toward you then,” she whispered. “I was trying to fight them, but when I saw you, I just couldn’t leave it alone.” She pced her head on Ael’s shoulder. “I’m gd I did. You… you are the first person I’ve ever been able to really be me with. I don’t scare you.”

  “Well, that may be because I took a blow to the head.” Ael joked, running her hand through Nereida’s short, soft hair. She kissed her beloved’s forehead, and the siren made a gentle, contented sound.

  “We could just stay here.” Nereida’s tone was wistful and pyful, her hand inching toward trouble. Ael chuckled softly.

  “Not with Epelda here too. The boys won’t wake but she will, and neither of us want that. Besides, the fire circle will start soon.”

  They got dressed, woke Epelda, and headed to the fire circle. The adolescent girl looked pale still, in the candlelight, but she was determined to join them. They were te arriving, even the sirens were there. Ael stopped at the door and counted four sirens in addition to Jules. She had worried that her extended invitation would have caused problems for the crew, but they were all chatting, happy. One of the older-looking sirens was chatting merrily with the two newer recruits about a storm that they had apparently both survived, two on a ship, one below sea, but they found camaraderie in the surviving. As Ael watched, she felt a stab of guilt. These were the people we were taught to fear. What else do we have wrong?

  The gentle din of conversation lulled as she approached, and soon everyone was taking seats. Ael stood, welcoming the guests, and asking who would like to go first. Epelda offered, drumming up a storm, getting their feet moving. Ael stayed sitting and watching, especially keeping an eye on the siren that was interested in her daughter. He was dancing to the rhythm, a happy expression on his face, and he would sneak gnces at the sylph when he thought no one was looking. She tried not to grumble. Epelda was only sixteen. Feelings were hard. But then, if she had been allowed to feel at sixteen, perhaps she would have found love sooner. But then it wouldn’t be with Nereida. Her mind refused to calm, even when the drumming was done and the dancers took their seats again.

  Jules asked if he could go next, which was met with the chant of “New story!” from Dymion and those who had been here the night previous. Jules went a shade of purple that occurred whenever a siren was embarrassed, but he stood and waved, before he started speaking.

  “Long ago,” he began, “before the nd was sundered, the people of the water lived on the shore, serving their Dragon with great joy. It is said she was kind and benevolent, choosing the best among her human followers to bear her scions. She bade the water people live with joy in their hearts and to love hard and fiercely. The water people had tribes of what they were best at, though intermarriage happened often. They became Hunters, Warriors, Enchanters, Storytellers, Diplomats and Leaders. They were allowed to seek love among all, except the sons and daughters of the moon. Mostly, it was the Diplomats who cross-bred, given that they were forever away from home.

  “And then the sundering occurred. My people fled into the water. And the Diplomats, still mostly caught on nd, felt the full force of the Shattering. They went mad, violently and terribly. They drowned those in their path, killing hundreds before they could be stopped. The rest of the water people went beneath the waves, leaving behind their non-water touched kin, broken hearted and bereft.”

  “The water people hid for two generations, before they found the Sacred Isle: the pce where the Great Water Dragon had breathed her st, the center of what had been the nd before the Shattering. And they made an oath beneath the light of the full moon: they would guard the nd from those that would abuse it, from the minions of both fire and shadow, until such time as the Dragons returned. And so, the people of the water set their sights to the ocean, carving out a sacred barrier around the nd, so that none could defile the nd. Once a season, on the first full moon of the season, our people gather on nd, offering thanks to the Moon and to the Ocean, and new beginnings are blessed: new marriages, proposals, new courtships, new births. Waiting for the time when the Dragons may rise again.”

  He smiled, gave a bow.

  “Isn’t the first moon of spring soon?” asked a voice from the darkness. The boy grinned impishly, and something fluttered in his expression. Something that Ael could not parse out but felt in her bones. Waiting? Anticipation? Something tingled beneath her skin, a feeling of trepidation that she could not understand where it came from. And, the knowledge that they were going to be granted safe passage. It thrummed in her bones. She blinked, forcing away feelings that weren’t hers. Evander was telling a story now, of how he came to fall in love with a gnome, his husband. It was familiar, almost soothing, until she made the mistake of gncing at Epelda. The adolescent had moved over next to Jules. He smiled at her, a dopey expression, and held a hand out toward her. She blushed, and slipped her hand into his. Ael swallowed heavily and tried to find somewhere else to look.

  She found her “somepce else” in Nereida’s eyes. Her stormy eyes were curious, focused on hers. Ael felt her own blush creep up her neck. Nereida entwined their fingers together, and Ael let herself be lost in her beloved’s eyes, the feel of her hands. This felt right. For a blissful moment, the world melted away, and Ael understood with her whole heart the songs that people sung about love. She wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss this woman, to ask her to be her wife.

  But the story ended, and with the end came appuse. Nereida let go of her hand to cp, and Ael cpped as well, feeling disappointment wash over her. She had to remind herself that this was not the time; even the sirens clearly knew that a full moon was better. It was only a few days. She could wait days.

  The next to go was another siren, who sang a boisterous, dirty song about lusting after a pirate captain. The crew hooted and hollered, ughing as the song concluded, one of them nudging the Admiral with a loud ugh. She looked back at them, her face set to a neutral mask. She could not show her embarrassment, especially since the person in the song was clearly male. It was not about them. But her ill humour made at least one crewman back down. The song had ended with the pirate captain happily joining the siren in the sea. There was a small implication the pirate drowned, but the Admiral decided to ignore that. After all, they were allies now, friends of a sort. No one was going to drown anyone.

  The night progressed, the stories going back and forth between silly, rambunctious and dirty to heartfelt stories. One of the sirens told a tale about a feared shark, one that had not found madness but intelligence, that prowled on the unwary. It had the feelings of a ghost story, and the siren made it very entertaining. The third siren told a story about a child getting lost in the coral forests beneath the waves, asking animals, fish and flora for help, before the child finally found their way home. It was more humorous and contained seventeen fish-based puns. Ael counted, groaning after each one.

  They had been telling stories for nearly two hours when the st siren stood to take his turn. It was the oldest one, his long grey hair was braided back, some sea-pnt and shells braided into his hair. The other sirens quieted when he spoke, and went still. Jules even withdrew his hand from Epelda’s, much to the girl’s dismay.

  “We are not an easy people to know,” he began. He had a deep voice, full of gravitas. It was the voice of a king. “We do not often trust those who walk instead of swim, those who use boats above the waves. We are a hard people. We must be, for the ocean, though she is kind, can be cruel as well, as even those stuck on boats must know. We, one and all, have magic, for we must breathe the water as well as the air.”

  “But there are some of us who do not have magic, and some of us are born with the wrong kind.” He took a breath, and focused his eyes on Nereida for only a moment, but it was enough for the princess to take Ael’s hand, seeking comfort. “Those of us born with no magic but with the gift of gills become Hunters. They may not seek life above, must dwell in the deeps. But theirs is not a lonely path, as we have many magical Hunters as well. We call them Sharks, for they live as sharks. Never to feel the sun on their dry face, never to set foot on nd.” He paused, looked to Nereida again, this time with deep sadness in his eyes. “The other children we call Dolphins. They are born with magic, but needing air. We cannot bring them to our communities beneath the waves. Many of them die at birth, if the mothers do not bear them close enough to the surface. Most mothers give birth in their homes, far from the light of the sun, knowing this is possible. It is a kindness, so we are taught, to let the child slip into the mercy of the ocean before it can know fear.” Ael squeezed Nereida’s hand. She could hardly breathe, hearing this, knowing that Nereida was one of these “Dolphins.” She wanted to st out at the man for his cruelty, but Nereida held her tight, slipping in front of her and leaning her head back, as if seeking comfort, protection. Both those things became more important to Ael, so she held her beloved tightly and gred at the storyteller. She knew they had left them for dead, but to drown them, to cast their souls into hell for the crime of needing to breathe air? Her heart shattered.

  “I have seen three such children born in my life. All three were given to the animals called dolphins, with a plea of mercy. While I know not what happened to them, I think on them often, my three children. And so with this story, I ask a plea. My only child that was born breathing water is expecting her first. I beg to you, people of the boat, should her child be born a Dolphin, will you take them?”

  It was not where she had expected the story to go. Nereida was suddenly weeping. Ael stood, pnning to answer, when a baritone voice rang out from the darkness.

  “I will take them if they won’t.” Basiano stepped into the light, wearing a red tunic and a simple golden band. “I can speak on behalf of my people even more than the Admiral can. As Crown prince of the Lagrians, no Dolphin child will be turned from our shores.”

  “Crown prince?” There were worried whispers throughout the crew. The older siren looked at him, observing him with critical eyes.

  “You are a Fire touched?”

  “Yes.” Basiano smiled, though in the firelight the shadows made the smile almost unsettling. “And my little sister is a Dolphin.” He motioned to Nereida. The siren looked between them, judging the truth of the words. “Without her I’d have lost an arm as a child. She has been the greatest gift we ever received, a gift from the Ocean or the Moon or Fate. I know not which. If I can keep more like her alive, bring that kind of light to the world, then when I leave this world I will have made it better.”

  There was a moment of silence on the boat, before the old siren smiled. Some of his teeth were chipped.

  “May I bring the news to our council?” He held out his hand. Basiano took it, shook it.

  “You may.”

  The tension leaked out of the group, and people began dispersing. The st “story” had been a bit too much. Nereida leaned into her, quietly crying. Ael pressed her beloved’s face into her jacket so that no one else could see the tears.

  “It’s alright, love,” Ael soothed, gring around at any who dared approach. Her expression must have been near on murderous because even Evander backed off.

  “They don’t have to die anymore,” Nereida whimpered. “Bassi can keep them safe.” Ael wanted to point out that it was only if the sirens agreed, but… she couldn’t bring herself to break apart her beloved’s hope. She kissed Nereida’s head instead.

  “I am sorry,” came the deep voice of the oldest siren. He stepped forward, bowing his head. “I thought only to make the urgency of my plight pin. I did not mean to hurt you.” He looked at his feet.

  Nereida wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to face the old man. There was age difference enough that he could have been her father. Ael stepped in behind Nereida, ying her hand on her beloved’s shoulder to make sure she felt supported.

  “Are you my father?” she asked. He shrugged, grief pying on his features.

  “I gave all three of my children to a pod of dolphins. I do not know if they survived or if the dolphins killed them.”

  “Dolphins are friendly enough, if you can talk to them,” Nereida said. The old man stared at her in shock. His wide eyes were almost comical.

  “No they most certainly are NOT. How did you come by THAT idea?”

  “I’ve worked with them,” she replied, suddenly self conscious. “They helped me scuttle a ship, brought me to my own ship to protect my children.” She crocked her head to the side. “One of them had a scar that was sewn closed. They had human help. I assumed they were a tamed pod belonging to a group of sirens.”

  “You can’t tame something as smart as you,” replied the old man gruffly. “That is like saying you have a dragon as a house pet… forgive the bsphemy.” He looked at her. “They helped you?” When she nodded, he let out a low whistle between his teeth.

  “So you gave your children to the dolphin pod even though you knew they were dangerous?”

  “Dangerous was better than watching them drown, child. We could only use our own magic for so long.”

  “I hate that,” Nereida muttered, and the old man ughed. It was a broken, brittle sound.

  “Aye, me too. I need to be off, to check on my daughter.” He looked at Nereida. “If you and your boat-bound friends are still around, might I come see you again?” She nodded and he slumped in relief.

  Soon, the deck was empty except for the skeleton crew that kept watch. Ael took Nereida’s hand, pulled her closer.

  “I hate some of my people’s customs,” Nereida muttered into Ael’s jacket, her voice charged with tears again. “Such cruelty.”

  “Your family exiles those without power, mine committed genocide. But your brother is making change. You can too.” Nereida nodded and closed her eyes.

  “Will you help me fix the world?”

  “Oh love, I would help you with anything.” She kissed Nereida’s head softly. “But maybe we start smaller? With getting you home?”

  “I think… I think I am home,” Nereida whispered. Something seemed to settle in Nereida’s magic, the tingling of one of her spells snapping in a way that almost made Ael curse. But Nereida did not seem to notice, and so it must not have been something important. If it was, surely Nereida would say something.