Chapter 82

  The two wives limped back to their camp, unable to chase the wind through the darkness. Dymion could not be moved yet, and they were all too exhausted to rush home, even though every bone in Ael’s body ached to go home, to see her daughter, to assure herself that Nereida’s fears were just that. Only fears. What need did a dragon made of wind have for their daughter, after all? She held Nereida as the princess quietly cried. Before long, exhaustion overtook them both.

  Dawn’s first light woke them, and without words they began to pack up camp. It was a simple affair, as they had not brought much. Dymion was properly awake, his energy returning to him as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t shared his body with a god. He was all smiles, giving extended attention to his husband while he worked. Whenever he touched the earth, flowers grew up. They were simple flowers, wildflowers and grasses. Dymion did not seem to notice he was doing it. No one wanted to point it out to him. He had been changed by a god. Turned into a proper Scion. Ael felt her stomach clench. She hadn’t told Nereida that they'd become Scions!

  She wasn’t sure that her wife would take the news well, especially with her fear that the Wind Dragon had made themselves a home inside of their daughter. Ael considered pushing the conversation for another time, but here she had only those she trusted. The god was gone. Once camp was broken, and they were on the path back home, Ael slowed so that she and Nereida took up the rear. The walk was very different, with the mountain gone. There was no shade now, so the sun beat down on them without mercy. The wind howled through the area, no longer blocked by the mountain.

  “Do you think the Earth Dragon knew this was the pce the Wind Dragon slept?” Nereida asked softly, her eyes cast upward at clouds.

  “Definitely,” Ael grumbled. “Old bastard.” Nereida let out a surprised ugh, before she covered her mouth in horror.

  “I don’t think we should be profaning a god we just saw. Probably not wise.”

  “I’m growing a touch tired of their wisdom,” Ael replied, kicking a white dandelion, making the seeds burst into the wind. “I had dreams I can’t remember st night, dreams that drew me to the altar. I did not appreciate that. Some nights I just want to sleep.”

  “You… you were talking in your sleep, love. Do you not remember?” Nereida’s face drew into a concerned frown as she reached toward Ael’s hand.

  “No,” Ael admitted. “Was it… bad?”

  “More like the Great Dragon’s shopping list… and how to pay.” She closed her eyes. “I hadn’t realized st night that they would… I think they will ALL search for a body. Every one of these gods that we wake from slumber needs to recover inside a person. I just don’t understand why they need human bodies.”

  “They need Scions,” Ael replied without thinking. Nereida came to a halt so suddenly, gripped Ael’s hand so tightly, that Ael was concerned she may have re-dislocated her shoulder. It definitely gave an unfriendly “pop”.

  “But… Don’t tell me Dymion… slept with someone.” Nereida dropped her voice low, so low that Ael struggled to hear her. Her tone was scandalized, angry on behalf of her friend who would not have consented, livid on behalf of her daughter who likely faced the same treatment.

  “No, love… I… The Earth Dragon told me that when a god inhabits a body for any length of time, it… it changes them. Makes them Scions… Made US Scions.”

  She supposed, after these st few months, she should not have been surprised when her love began to ugh. It was a manic, almost maniacal ugh. The others stopped to look back at them, concern on their faces, but Ael waved at them, shooing them forward so she could talk to her wife. Tears poured down Nereida’s face as she tried to stay upright. She wiped her own tears on her blue sleeve, gaining a modicum of control.

  “So when he was calling us Scions, the Earth Dragon wasn’t just being polite… he was… he was…”

  “He was telling us what we are.”

  “He called us that in front of the crew! In front of Evander, and Jules!” She started to breathe faster, too fast, and sank to her knees.

  “Hadn’t you wondered, love, why suddenly Jules takes your orders over mine?” Ael knelt beside her wife, pulling her into a side-ways embrace as they got further and further behind. “You, love, and me,” she added the second part with a grumble, not particurly enjoying her new-found rank either. “We are Scions. And… it changes nothing.”

  “It changes EVERYTHING!” Nereida’s second outburst caused the group ahead to stop and turn. Evander motioned for them to sit in the shade beneath a nearby tree. She needed to pay that man more. Him and his husband both. The siren had drawn her knees up to her chin, as if she could protect herself from the truth. “Scions are necessary for the end of the prophecy you id out. Eight of them.”

  “All but one Great Dragon then,” Ael mused. “That tracks I suppose. Why not the st?”

  “We… decide the st one’s fate.” Nereida’s voice shook. “I don’t want this! I just… I just wanted to go home, and be myself again, and now I’m someone I don’t recognize in the mirror!” She burst into tears. Ael leaned in, holding her wife tightly.

  “Love… I want to support you, I do. And I know precisely how you feel right now. But our daughter is on the ship, and is probably possessed by a goddess, and I need you to be strong beside me when we see her. Can… can you do that?”

  Nereida sniffed a couple of times, but nodded, her expression hardening.

  “If she’s hurt…”

  “I know love.” Ael helped her wife to her feet. Nereida was covered in dirt, her feet caked with it. Did she still not have boots? How could Ael not have noticed? They needed to find a human port soon. At least to get protective slippers or something before Nereida ended up badly hurt.

  The rest of the trip, long and grueling in the sun, passed without much else being said. Dymion told stories as they walked, new stories that Ael had never heard him tell. Given that the gnome had been with her nearly ten years, she knew his stories. The Great Dragon had left other things behind in her friend. Had the Moon left something like that for her? Or was it different because she was still asleep? Ael wiped sweat off of her forehead. The hat kept the worst of the sun out of her eyes, but the heat was unbearable, and it was not yet summer! She only half-paid attention to Dymion, her eyes on their surroundings. The grass and pnts were long here, despite the mountain’s shade that had once fallen over it. They were vulnerable in a way she did not like. Only Jules, Gregors and she were in fighting form. Nereida was too emotionally wrought, and Evander was shouldering his husband’s weight as Dymion limped along.

  It was nearly dark by the time they got to shore. No one had come for them, the flowers and tall grass had not hidden any hidden dangers. But the ocean still did. The group climbed into the row boat, one by one. Nereida hesitated as the gentle waves pped the dirt from her feet and knees.

  “I’ll swim,” she offered. “So that there is less weight… and so I can see if anyone means us any harm.”

  “What does the song sound like?” Ael asked.

  “They...” Jules looked worriedly at the water. The water was still as gss, as if there was no wind making waves. “It’s as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting for something.” He climbed out of the boat, taking off the belt that Epelda had woven for him from rope, then taking off his shirt. She had expected the youth to be smooth-skinned, but his torso revealed that something had bit him once, something that was bigger than he was. Likely a shark. “If it pleases you, princess, I’ll swim too. Together, pushing the boat shouldn’t be difficult at all, and if things are… sideways, we are ready.” She nodded, and the two sirens slipped beneath the waves.

  The row back to the ship was a tense one. Ael’s arms burned with exertion as she rowed, keeping an eye on the water. The water was calm, almost too calm. Before, the ocean had been filled with obvious signs of life: dolphins, sirens and fish all swimming about, churning up the water, loud gulls and other fish-eating birds. Now, it was as if there was a bnket set over everything, muffling sounds and keeping the energy muted. Not even seagulls flew overhead, and Ael knew those birds were brainlessly brave. She had seen one pluck a bun from the hand of a sailor. What had frightened off even the gulls?

  Silence on the ocean was off-putting. The gentle waves pped at their rowboat, but it was otherwise quiet. She grimaced as they went, fearing the worst. Both Nereida and Jules took turns diving deeper, as if searching for something. As they approached the ship, she heard a whistle sound, cheering and ughter. The weight lifted a little, until she looked at her wife as she broke back to the surface of the water. Nereida’s expression was stricken. Something deeply bothered the siren princess. Ael leaned toward her wife.

  “Love?”

  “Everything is afraid,” she whispered. “There IS a song, deep in the water. One of the fear of a predator. And a single song, sung by an old voice, begging us to go.” She shivered, and Ael doubted it was from the cold.

  They were unable to talk more as the rope dder was thrown down to them, wood striking wood almost musically. Ael made a move to go up first, but Evander put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Let me,” he said softly. “If there is trouble, the ship needs her Admiral more than she needs me.” She grimaced at that, not liking the self-deprecating tone, but she let it pass, let him go first. When there was no immediate trouble or a call for help, Ael began to climb. Below her, Dymion and Jules rigged the boat to be lifted out of the water, and Nereida followed her up.

  Everything looked as they had left it. People milled about, no great urgency to their movement since the ship was anchored. Epelda stood up at the helm, beside the very bored helmsman. She grinned and waved when she saw them. She was well-dressed, in one of Ael’s jackets, though it was too short in the torso for the nky girl, and a longer, simple dress with trousers underneath. She also wore one of Nereida’s soft blue cloaks. The cloak billowed dramatically in a breeze that Ael could not feel.

  “Mom! Water-mama!” Epelda’s relief was obvious in her signs, in her body nguage. She leapt down to them, a dramatic maneuver, slowing her fall with her magic. It was a trick Ael had seen her use before, usually on others when they fell. Epelda had saved a few people in her day. She grinned at them, her smile turning more shy as she gnced at Jules. “Jules,” she signed, her motions less overtly excited. Ael tried to read her daughter’s body nguage but found only the unfamiliar. The young man, however, smiled back in kind.

  “Safe and sound, like I promised,” he signed, his words still slow, almost clunky.

  Epelda turned toward Ael, her face becoming serious.

  “Admiral, I return the ship to you,” she signed, her motions crisp, all business. She removed the whistle, and pced it in Ael’s open hand. “I kept her safe,” she continued, once her hand was free.

  “Any trouble?” Nereida asked, a hint of doubt in her tone.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Epelda signed cheerfully. “Cassian fell from the riggings, but I caught him.” She looked proud, and Ael smiled warmly. Her daughter was fine, Nereida had worried for nothing.

  “We will stay anchored tonight,” the Admiral commanded, pitching her voice so it would travel. “We weigh anchor in the morning!” A great cheer rang out. Ael turned back to her daughter and the young man on her arm. “Family dinner tonight,” she said, her tones softer now. She looked over at Jules. “You may join if you wish.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. I’d like that very much.”

  “Good. Now skedaddle. I want to speak to my daughter alone. Dinner in an hour.”

  “Yes ma’am!” He trotted off, grinning.

  “I’ll go see the boys,” Nereida said softly. “Let you two catch up with your ship business. Meal in the mess?”

  “Yes, we can’t have the boys up here yet… I’m still not certain the sirens here won’t take exception to their existence.” A stormy look crossed Nereida’s face at even the idea. Epelda smiled a nervous little smile.

  “See you soon, Water-mama.”

  The Admiral and the field-promoted Captain withdrew to the cabin to go over the ins and outs of what had occurred. Epelda had written out notes, her handwriting greatly improved by her time spent with Nereida. Ael read through them, added them to her own logs.

  “Anything else that didn’t make it into the logs?” she asked her daughter. “You were so thorough, I’m impressed!” The young woman smiled shyly, and in that moment Ael could not help but picture the little girl she had been; dirty, half starve, missing both her front teeth with circles under her eyes. Now she was confident, and while she was thin, it was a deceptive thinness that hid her strength. Her once short, uneven hair was pulled into beautiful, precise braids, and her eyes shone with happiness, not fear.

  “Only that I love you,” Epelda said, her alto tone pleasant, warm. The mother felt a momentary rush of joy, hearing the words from her mute daughter.

  And then reality struck her hard enough to send her back a step. Ael’s heart smmed into her throat as she groped for understanding. Her beautiful daughter smiled at her, but it was a sad smile. And then her expression hardened, and the way she held her eyes and body seemed wrong in a way Ael could not process.

  “Greetings, Admiral.” Ael donned the title, squaring her shoulders to stare at whatever held her daughter in its sway. Epelda, or, more accurately, the thing inside her, strutted to one of the few chairs, tossing her feet up on the table with the map. She made a show of yawning.

  “Greeting, Great Dragon of Air.” The Admiral kept her tone hard, all business, but did not let through any of the rage she was feeling. What an evil trick!

  “Ah, you have figured it out already. Good. That will save time.” She stretched, looking almost like a cat with how flexible her body was. “This is not a permanent arrangement, Admiral. The crew does not know, for now. The young miss and I have made a deal, that she will take the helm, so to speak, unless I have something I need to impart. In exchange, I let the first words you heard from your daughter’s voice be that she loves you. She is quite grateful for the chance.” The Great Dragon touched Epelda’s chin thoughtfully. “I do hope that those responsible for this damage, this atrocity against one of the wind’s children, died terrible, horrible deaths.”

  “I keel-hauled them.” Ael admitted with a forced shrug.

  “Good girl. You need not worry about the sirens, as a side note. The attacker returned in the night, not long after we joined. He will never breathe air again.”

  “You killed him?” She tried to sound scandalized, but she was more relieved than anything.

  “Oh, much worse. I took the surface from him. He cannot breathe air. It will choke him like the ocean chokes most humans and dragon-touched. Since he requires his magic to breathe the water, he will die slowly of exhaustion. It may take close to a decade, but he will know no peace until his magic eats away at him. And I let him know exactly who he had trifled with.” The Dragon grinned as she spoke, a slow, almost zy grin. Ael felt a cold shiver of fear, and almost wished she had killed the attacker. That would have been more merciful than what the Great Dragon had done. “The siren people know that the gods ride with you, now. None will attack you, regardless of their allegiance. I have done you and yours a favour. You should thank me.”

  “Thank you, your Grace,” Ael grumbled. The Dragon ughed, her ugh high and sharp, nothing like any sound Epelda had ever made.

  “Moon’s daughter, you need not fear me. I do ask that you keep my involvement from the crew. Direct worship is tiresome. You may, of course, inform Ocean’s daughter.”

  “Thank you.” She wasn’t even sure why she was thanking the Great Dragon, except that it seemed the thing to do. The Dragon God was looking at dirt beneath Epelda’s fingernails, as if she were looking for something, before she turned her gaze back up to Ael.

  “And I will give this small one her body back fully, once I can build mine.”

  “What do you need, your Grace, to do so?” the Admiral kept her tone even, and steadfast. She would be like the ship, and weather anything if only to get her daughter back to herself.

  “It is simple really. I just need a storm.”