Here There be Dragons: Testing the Waters

Chapter 46:

Nereida hung the wet clothing up in their cabin. Aella looked exhausted. She had done well, and was starting to treat water with success. The two boys had taken to water well, though Alejo was the stronger of the two. Given that he was two years older, that was expected. The sirens had come to watch them in the water. Jules had overcome his shyness and had offered to help Alejo so she could spend more time on Egaz.

“My clothing is going to be soaked for days,” Aella grumbled from inside the curtains on the bed. She was changing into something dry. “My hair too.” Nereida chuckled, and knelt beside Alejo.

“Little love, shall we show Aella our new trick?” she stage-whispered. The boy giggled.

“Ner?” Aella sounded suddenly concerned. She stuck her head out from between the curtains. Her braid was still in, but the wispy hairs around her face were still matted from their dip in the ocean. Alejo looked smug, and began to sing a little. His voice was high and light. With his music, the clothing began to move as the water within it was wrenched out. He pulled the water with his song, gesturing wildly as he directed the water into the washbasin. It landed with a splash and he stopped his wordless song. His little face was beaded with sweat.

“I did it!”

“Amazing,” Aella breathed. Alejo puffed out his chest, pride filling his features.

They ate super as a family, Epelda signing excitedly about her day, which she had spent watching them from the crows nest.

“And Water-storyteller came to see me,” she added, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. Aella looked up sharply, her eyes narrowing. Nereida kicked her under the table. Aella’s ire shifted to Nereida, who smiled innocently. The Admiral clearly did not buy her innocent expression. They both almost missed it when Epelda lamented “I don’t know how to talk to him.”

“Should I teach him?” Nereida asked, but the adolescent girl shook her head vehemently.

“I don’t want him to know I’m broken!”

“You aren’t!” Aella and Alejo said at the same time with words and hands. They glanced at each other, Aella smiling at the boy, before Aella turned to her daughter. “Your injury is not a defect, Epelda.”

“Says you,” Epelda signed brokenly, her shoulders falling, her eyes downcast. There was no sass in her posture, only defeat. Nereida felt her heart break. Alejo crawled into her lap, hugging her tightly. He signed the word “sister” pressing it into her chest. She looked down at him, tears in her eyes. He looked back at Egaz, a significant look in his eyes that Nereida could not interpret. Egaz’s little face scrunched up but he nodded. What were they planning?

“Admiral, can we talk to our sister by ourselves?” Alejo asked, his voice sad. “Grown ups don’t understand.” Aella looked up at Nereida, trying to figure out what they planned, but Nereida could only shrug.

“As you wish,” Aella said after a moment. Alejo brightened.

“Thank you.”

Nereida took her beloved’s hand and they went out on to the deck, leaving the children to Epelda. She seemed as confused as the adults, but her mopey expression was melting to curiosity. They closed the door, giving the children space to tell the adolescent whatever they would. Perhaps she just needed some non-adult support.

“The boys are so good to her,” Aella observed, squeezing Nereida’s hand.

“She was good to them first,” Nereida replied. “When they were scared to be on the ship, scared that the ship would flip over in a windstorm and drown us all, scared because they’d just left behind everything and everyone they have ever known but me…. She made time for them.”

“She did?” Aella stared at Nereida.

“That first night, she came by after you did… she brought each boy an apple. Didn’t say or sign anything, just knocked, handed the boys apples, and left. And once she knew they could speak to her, she stopped by more, playing games with them. I didn’t say anything to you then because I didn’t know how close you two were. I just thought she was a good soul.”

A sharp whistle caught their attention and Jules waved at them from below.

“Permission to come aboard!” he called out.

“Granted!” the Admiral called back down, dropping Nereida’s hand as she slipped into her more business persona. Nereida stepped back a moment, giving her space, but Aella caught her eyes and shook her head. The Admiral wanted the siren by her side here, if this was business. Nereida took her place at Aella’s right hand.

Jules was dressed only in a loose set of trousers that were tied tightly to his legs with some kind of sinew.

“I come with word that the council is still debating the next course of action,” he said formally, bowing his head to the Admiral a little. “As my party lacks someone of the diplomatic caste, it falls to me to communicate with you.” Nereida perked up, hearing the words, her shifting as she smothered the questions that popped into her mind. She would get this boy alone somehow and get all the answers from him that she could.

“Thank you for the update,” the Admiral said, mimicking his formal tone. “When should we expect an answer?”

“By moonrise tomorrow,” he replied, meeting the Admiral’s gaze but faltering. He dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “They are likely to let you through, it is just the price they debate on.” She smiled at him and patted his shoulder.

“Join us for stories tonight?” she suggested. He blinked at her, wide eyed.

“Twice in a week?”

“Every night save the new moon, or if we have come under attack.” The young man was practically vibrating with excitement. He grinned like a child.

“Oh this is heaven he declared.” He glanced at Nereida, and then back again at the Admiral, at war with himself, before he finally blurted out, “what is the name of the drummer girl?”

Aella’s expression took a dark, almost threatening turn. Nereida grabbed her arm, squeezed it. She glared at Nereida, but the siren simply smiled at her until the glare faltered and she simply grumbled.

“She’s Epelda,” Nereida said, wresting control of the situation firmly away from Aella. Her beloved could be mad later. “My daughter.” The boy, who had been trying to decide which woman he should look at, snapped his attention immediately to Nereida, his eyes wide. He took a step back, paling, and bumped the railing.

“I meant no offence, Dolphin’s Revenge.”

“None taken,” she replied, smiling again. He did not seem reassured by her smile, given how he shuffled his feet and was now trying to look anywhere but at her. “Do you wish to ask anything else?” He went a lovely shade of lilac as embarrassment flushed through him.

“Might I speak with you privately?” he asked, his voice almost pained. She nodded, and they moved to the stern, where there was little activity. Nereida grabbed an empty bucket and sat on it. The boy simply plopped on to the deck, sitting cross-legged across from her.

“Before you speak,” she began, looking down at him, “please consider that I did not grow up among our people, but among the Lagrians.” He blinked at her, clearly having never heard the term before. She heaved a sigh. “I will tell you the tale after, but the people of fire are the ones who raised me. The salamanders.” She made a face at the last one, knowing how much her brother hated the term. The boy began to pick at some lint that was invisible on his trousers, not quite looking at her.

“Can I ask your caste then?” he was back to being timid. “It’s not a thing normally discussed but I don’t wish to… I don’t know what I am allowed to say to you, to ask of you.”

“In my land, I am a princess.” He looked up at her in shock, clearly knowing the term.

“Ruling Class?” he asked incredulously. “The abandoned baby Dolphin became a Ruler?”

“Well, yes. But we are not in my lands, nor have I been for a decade and a half. So ask, but understand that Epelda’s my eldest, and thus my heir.” The boy nodded at this, then tapped a finger to his mouth as he thought.

“I’m only a Story-Teller,” he began after a moment, “not quite ruling or even merchant, but still important. Though, I will be honest, Princess, I was born to a Hunter Caste, the lowest of us. I was.. Fortunate to capture the attention of an elder with no heirs.”

“Adoption is valid where I am from,” Nereida told him. “I didn’t bear Epelda. But she is mine regardless.”

A moment passed between them as the wind picked up, carrying the scent of the sea and the cawing of gulls. They were near enough to islands to hear the birds nearly constantly.

“I leave Epelda’s fate and fortune to her, Jules,” Nereida said after a long moment. “She is not property or a pawn. If you want her attention, you must ask her for it. Do you know what a Sylph is?”

“The Air people. We barter and trade with them, for they respect the sea far more than the others. I am unsure about your Lagrians. I have never heard of a fire-ship.” He shrugged and looked down at his bare feet, wiggling his toes. His toes were webbed, which would likely aid in swimming. Hers, and her sons, were not. “many don’t speak, and so our merchants need to… wait.” He looked up at her, his eyes narrowing. “Oh.”

“Figure out how you will talk to her when you don’t share a language.” She stood, offered her hand to the boy. He accepted, pulling himself up and pretending that her hand was helpful. Given how strong his grip was and how defined his calves were, he did not need her help.

Jules bid her farewell, promising to join the circle tonight unless things changed. He stopped by Aella to thank her for her time, and ask if any others of his people could join.

“They have to follow the same rules, tell a story if they want to join. Or sing a song or play an instrument.” She left unsaid that the sailors feared the songs of sirens. The boy likely knew, and it wouldn’t do for their budding diplomacy to bring up sore points.

“I will pass word along.” He bowed low, and took a running leap off the ship, landing in the water with a splash.

“He knows how to make an exit,” Aella grumbled as Nereida came up beside her. “Do you think we left the rugrats alone long enough to say what they needed?”

“Probably,” Nereida replied, taking the Admiral’s hand.

Hand in hand, they strolled into the cabin, planning to tuck the children into bed. They found chaos. The whole of the floor was wet, the porthole above the boys’ bed was open and letting in yet more water as the waves splashed against the side of the ship. Epelda, soaked from head to toe, was holding an equally wet Egaz, who was sobbing into her as if he was in pain, and Alejo was on his bed, lying completely still. Nereida felt as if her heart had stopped, and she froze in the doorway, unsure of how to act or move.

“What in the five hells?” Aella managed. Her words woke Nereida from her trance and she ran to the side of her unmoving son. She placed her hand on his heart, feeling it beat. Her erratic heart rate slowed. She heard a muffled, upset sound from behind her. Epelda was crying now, holding Egaz, and rocking him while she made miserable noises.

“What happened, love?” Aella asked, taking the boy from her to pass him to his mother. Epelda made a pathetic little sound, and then shook her head.

Nereida took a moment to channel some of the water around to restore her son. She sang softly to him, rubbing his chest, calling the magic until his eyes fluttered open.

“Mommy?” She pulled him into her arms, shaking now that the boy could talk again, tears leaking down her face. She wanted to break down and sob but knew she had to be strong. She heard Egaz calming in Aella’s arms, and when she turned toward the adolescent girl to see if she was hurt, the girl was curled in on herself, signing the circular motion of “sorry” over and over and over again.

“What happened?” Nereida repeated, feeling suddenly exhausted and spent. Using her magic to restore Alejo had drained her.

“We…” Alejo whimpered. “We called the magic. It’s always so loud here, singing and singing and I thought… we thought…”

“Is your tongue all better?” Egaz asked from Aella’s arms. He sniffed heavily. “Did we fix it?”

The two adults looked at each other in horror, before turning back to Epelda. The girl had backed away, and was almost on the opposite side of the room, her back pressed against the raised bed that the lovers shared. She had pulled a blanket down around herself. Nereida saw Aella reach out, a strange expression on her face before she shivered.

“The air is so thick,” the Admiral muttered. “How did you two get so much power?” Nereida blinked, for there was nothing wrong or thick about the air. What was her beloved smelling?

“We did what uncle Bassi said, that working together makes you bigger than one at a time.” Alejo sat up, his face still pale. “And the sirens and the ocean were singing too, and so we did and… and then she screamed with the water in her mouth and there was no sound but it hurt.”

Aella made her way over to the shivering, terrified adolescent and wrapped her arms around the girl.

“Are you hurt?” The girl shook her head vigorously and pulled the blanket over her face. She was trembling despite the calm tone in Aella’s voice. Was she afraid she would be cast out?

“Alejo what were you thinking?” Nereida whispered. The boy looked down in his lap.

“That she’s my sister and the bad people hurt her like they hurt you and I wanted to fix it.” It felt like a slap when he spoke.

“What do you mean?” she managed, gasping for air as unwanted memories came flooding back. She tried to ignore the remembered smell of burning hair and skin.

“The bad guys who made your legs all hurt. The same bad guys hurt Epelda, yeah? I listen, you know. I can see how she gets scared when the bad ships come. She wasn’t born like that.” Nereida closed her eyes and held him tight against her.

“Little love, you cannot fix all the hurts in the world. Scars are hard to heal, and you are so, so young. Let mommy worry about helping people. And… not all scars need to be fixed.” She lifted her skirt to reveal the scars. “This tells the story of me being brave, my darlings. Aella’s face scars tell me someone tried to hurt her badly and she lived. She got to be happy again. Scars are a part of us.”

“Your scars don’t make you lose things!”

“Did you even ask her?” Nereida asked softly. The boy stopped, went bright red.

“I did,” Egaz said, toddling over to her. “She said it was okay.”

“It wasn’t,” Nereida stressed, taking her children’s hands. “Magic isn’t a toy or a game and doing something like that could have killed you.” Both boys nodded miserably.

Nereida began to hum, urging the spilled water, and the water in the clothing of her three children, to head out the porthole, back to the ocean. The water responded easily, wanting to be together. She closed the porthole tight, her head swimming. She wanted to lie down and nap, holding her boys tight.

Epelda peeked out from her blanket fortress. Her eyes were red with crying, her nose dripped and she was splotchy in colour. She still huddled in on herself, pulling away from Aella. The Admiral looked a little hurt at first.

“Epelda,” Nereida called out. She left the boys on their bed, crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around the girl. “I’m so, so sorry, darling. They should not have done that.” Epelda began to cry anew, shaking. She pushed the blanket away from her face. She freed her hands to talk, still shaking.

“I’m fine.” Her shaking hands made a lie of her words, but Nereida did not call her daughter out on it. “They didn’t hurt me.”

“Let me look,” Aella said softly, signing the word “daughter” at the end of her words. Epelda closed her eyes and nodded, opening her mouth. Aella let out a little gasp.

“She… They healed some of it,” Aella managed. “Her mouth is absolutely buzzing with magic, and I can see… parts of her tongue that were apart are back together.”

“Feels funny,” Epelda signed. “Stretched out.” The boys both let out little exclamations of happiness. Nereida threw a glare in their direction and they settled back down, staring at their laps.

“We might be able to teach you to talk again,” Aella mused. “But only if that is what you want.” Epelda shrugged and retreated beneath the blanket again.

“She needs rest,” Nereida said firmly. “They all do.” She stood, offering help to Epelda but the girl did not move from her pile.

“Epelda, don’t make me order you,” Aella muttered. “Go rest in Egaz’s cot, he never sleeps there anyway. You can come to the fire circle if you rest now, but if I have to order you, you’ll be out for three days.” Epelda sighed as only an adolescent can, a deep sigh that seemed to reach her very bones, and she got to her feet.

Nereida tucked her boys into bed, whispering soft stories to them, old stories about forgotten lands and powerful dragons, until they fell into sleep. She went to Epelda’s side, tucked the girl in like a child, which resulted in a pout on the young woman’s face.

“Sleep,” Nereida whispered to her. “What they did will probably leave you tired and achy as your body adjusts, like when I healed the Admiral and she was exhausted for two days.”

“You did what love?” Aella asked. She had been leaning against the doorway with a lazy expression, but now she stood straight, fire in her eyes. Nereida sighed. “Seems like I’m in trouble too,” she whispered. Epelda chuckled, and allowed her adoptive mother to fuss a moment before she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Aella was fixing a fierce glare on Nereida. But the siren was too tired for stories, and she simply grabbed her beloved’s hand and dragged her toward the bed.

“We have two hours before it is dark enough for a fire circle,” Nereida whispered. “I’m going to sleep. And you can sleep beside me, or lie awake and wait, or head out.” She placed a gentle kiss on Aella’s cheek. “I can set a candle, to wake us, if you want.” Aella considered, and then nodded.

“Set the candle, love. Dragons know we need to sleep.” She began removing her outerwear to better rest. “But you owe me the story when we get up.”