Chapter 75

  The indignity of being carried burned in her cheeks. It was worse, much worse that Evander was the first to her side. She had no chance to get up, to pretend she was fine. Nereida had braided her hair during her poison-induced sleep, but her braids were chunky and they pulled her scalp. Her first mate looked concerned, his brows furrowed in a way she was not used to. She almost, almost wished he would tease her.

  “Admiral,” he greeted, his tone soft. “You and the missus gave us a scare.” He grimaced as she sat up. Clearly she looked every inch as good as she felt. The sirens who had been carrying her nodded a farewell and headed to the water. The oldest of them, a chiseled old man with a scruffy beard, smiled at her.

  “We will return ter, for a proper meeting. Tomorrow perhaps. One of my men will speak to your healer as well, if he is a brewer he can make you something to help bring your stamina up.” He gave a little half bow.

  “Wait,” Evander called. Ael winced. She really, really did not want to have this conversation. “What happened to her?”

  “Bit by a venomous creature,” the siren replied, looking amused. Ael wanted to sink into the ground. The wound site itched, though not as badly as it first had. “The Dolphin got the worst of it out, and your Admiral will make a full recovery.”

  “Need we keep an eye out?” Evander asked worriedly. His eyes darted to the tree line, as if a venomous creature was lurking nearby. The huge, leafy trees weren't hiding what bit her, but she would die before she told him that! “There are children here.” The siren shook his head. Somehow, the old siren kept the amusement out of his tone.

  “Keep them out of the deep jungle, and they will be safe. From rge bck furry beasties or venomous ones. Good afternoon.” He tipped his head again and trotted off, eager to be back in the water.

  The rest of the crew were giving them a wide enough berth that Ael saw Nereida and her boys talking to Dymion. The gnome wore a bck fur cloak that was oddly familiar, though she was certain he had no fur clothing. Nothing that fine certainly. The feeling of wrongness washed over her despite her exhaustion. She grabbed Evander, pulling her first mate so close to hers that they shared breath. She could see his fine stubble since he had not shaved yet this morning.

  “Get me to Nereida. Now.” She left no room in her tone for blustering or questions. Evander nodded, helping her to her feet. Her left thigh burned with every step, the unhealed bite wickedly painful. Even as they stepped toward the gnome and Nereida, Ael began to notice other things as well. Egaz and Alejo trembled, Egaz’s little head bent as if he were being chastised by a queen. Nereida’s posture was one of defense, though her face remained cool as if she were made of ice. As much as Ael was angry, she was not angry at Nereida directly. And her wife needed protection.

  They ambled up, moving as fast as Ael could manage. The conversation cut short as they arrived, and Dymion smiled at Evander with dopey eyes. Ael felt the fine hairs on her neck stand at attention.

  “Love,” she said softly, looking at Nereida. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” She kept her tone cordial. Nereida’s eyes darted to the left, but she otherwise seemed perfectly at ease.

  “I suppose we have to have this conversation sooner, rather than ter,” Dymion said, his tone absolutely wrong. Evander moved his hand toward his sword, but Ael grabbed his wrist. She wasn’t sure if the instinct to stop him was hers or her magic talking, but she was not about to take a chance.

  “Tsk, tsk, I’m not here to harm anyone. Sword down, Evander.” He looked at the first mate, and his eyes seemed endlessly deep. Ael’s breath caught in her throat. Evander, beside her, was shaking, though with rage or fear she did not know.

  “As I was just saying, my scion is unharmed, and once I am done with this conversation, I will let him continue to be in charge of the body we currently share.” The not-Dymion sounded terribly bored, and that made Ael’s skin crawl. They were in danger. Magic, instinct or fear? She wanted to get to Nereida’s side, but with the creature wearing Dymion’s skin between them, she could not risk it. “I simply wish to tell you what I need, and we can all co-exist. I have no quarrel with any of you. I’m even grateful you woke me.”

  “Woke you?” Evander echoed. But the thing waved at him dismissively.

  “Hush, human, the grown ups are talking. You can stay, but only if you stay quiet.” He turned his back to Evander. Ael felt her friend, her first mate, positively vibrating with rage. She broke protocol, silently bming her wife for how soft she had become, and she slipped her hand into Evander’s. The first mate froze, and then, improbably, he squeezed her hand. “Ocean’s scion, Moon’s scion, I thank you. But I cannot build my body from the earth of this isnd. It is too small. I need a mountain. Get me to a mountain, and I will build a body that is worthy of me, and I will let my scion return to his life, unharmed, unhindered.”

  “We need time,” the Admiral said, standing with all her strength. No weaknesses before the unknown. Though she feared she did know. “The boat must be repaired. That will take time, and we need Dymion.”

  “And you shall have him. I will simply watch, and will only interfere if our life is in danger.” Ael hoped, desperately, that the thing inside Dymion was using the “royal” we, and that his life was not tied to Dymion. “But in return, I must have your word, all of you, that my pce inside Dymion remains a secret. Have we an accord, Moonlet, Droplet?” He looked from Nereida to her. Ael let out a breath in frustration, but held out her hand.

  “We have an accord, Great One,” she said softly. “So I swear.” She looked at the children.

  “I promise not to tell anyone that a Great Dragon lives in my friend,” Egaz announced sullenly. “It’s not like anyone’d believe me if I did.” Ael swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. How had Egaz known? Or was it his magic? Nerieda, Alejo and Evander all reluctantly gave their words as well, though Alejo’s oath was spoken as he hid behind his mother’s skirt. The Great Dragon grinned in delight, his expression just so wrong on Dymion’s face. He took her offered hand and shook it.

  Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Dymion colpsed to the ground, the cloak disappearing before their very eyes. From the ground, Dymion blinked up at them, confusion on his face.

  “Dym?”

  “Yeah. Who else?” Evander’s face crumpled in relief. He did not cry, he was not the sort, but he did pull his husband into her arms, holding him so tight that the gnome began to squirm and protest.

  “Put me down,” he cried. Evander did so after a moment. “I’m fine, darling, I’m fine. He’s…. He’s not a bad sort.” Dymion rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Gives me good info too.” He looked at Nereida, his expression almost disappointed.

  “You can’t be gettin’ up te yer nonsense like that again, ma’am,” he chastised. “If ye don’t know what’s gonna happen, don’t do it. Dragon’s sweaty-” he noticed the boys and cut himself off with a frustrated grunt. “Jus’ please, don’t do it again.”

  “I won’t,” Nereida promised softly, her hands shaking. Ael reached for her wife, took her hand. Nereida looked shocked, and then relieved. Had that daft woman been afraid she’d leave just because she had an inconvenient poison problem?

  “I’m gonna make ye a potion, Admiral. It’s gonna taste like warm beer stirred with dirty fingers, but it’ll help.”

  “Great. Sounds great. Fantastic.” Sarcasm didn’t just bleed into her tone, it beat her tone to death.

  True to his word, it tasted terrible, but after an hour, she felt the pain and irritation fading. The boys, no longer completely terrified, had gone to the edge of the wet sand to build sandcastles with their older sister. Epelda was distracted, her eyes lifting up to look out over the water more often than not. Ael felt a stab of worry that her daughter was not in on the secret. It could not be helped, though, and she very much doubted that the spirit would take kindly to her breaking her word.

  The two wives sat next to each other in the sand as Dymion was throwing orders about to start moving the wood to the ship. The egg sat on Nereida’s p and the siren was softly stroking it as if comforting it.

  “I’m,” Nereida began to apologize, but Ael put her hand on her wife’s p, and she fell into silence.

  “Did you know?”

  “No.”

  “Suspect?”

  “No!” Nereida hissed out the second “no”, her face awash in shame. “I almost killed you because I don’t know anything about my people, about myself.”

  “Love, without you I’d be dead at least twice over, probably five or six. I’m not mad at you.” Ael lifted her hand up to Nereida’s cheek. The siren leaned into her touch with teary eyes. “I’m angry on your behalf.”

  “I think I need to talk to Kana or Jules,” Nereida whispered. “I need to know if there are any more surprises… and I trust they’d tell me.”

  “Jules,” Ael suggested, hating her own suggestion. But she knew Jules, the old man was not crew. “The d will need a task, after all, and won’t be fit for actual duty for some time.” She didn’t want the boy to be any more comfortable with her family. But he would tell Nereida anything she wanted to learn about. The boy certainly loved to talk. “Ask him once he’s up and on his feet again.”

  “Oh, I will.” Nereida sounded fair away, worry in her tone. “Are we… are we alright, you and I?”

  “Yes,” Ael replied firmly. She squeezed Nereida's hand. “Put it from your mind, love. Please.” Nereida leaned into her at that, as if seeking strength.

  “I’ll try,” she promised softly. Ael kissed her forehead.

  Sauntering toward them was Basiano, his tiny daughter clutched against his chest. Another soul who did not know and who probably should. Ael looked up at her brother-in-w, giving him a grumpy expression that once would have sent a lesser soul running. Basiano, however, was completely unmoved. Nereida sat up, staring at her brother with concern in her features. But Basiano did not look at her. He offered no expnation, and simply pced the bundled up baby in Ael’s arms. She gaped at him, struggling to figure out how to best hold a squirming, blue-faced potato. The baby, as if sensing her unease, began to cry.

  “Five hells, Basiano!”

  “You have one of your own on the way, Admiral. You need the practice. And then maybe, maybe, you and my sister will stop running off headlong into mortal danger without care or thought of those you leave behind.” His words were all bite, and she had to control the instinct to flinch away. Beside her, Nereida stiffened, looking at the ground like a chastised child. The prince stormed off toward the pile of cloaks and ferns that served as his bed without looking back. Ael stared after him, patting the child’s bottom and hoping she could figure out how to calm the tiny angry mite in her arms.

  That Samander would be the death of her.