Here There be Dragons: Testing the Waters

The first full day of spring dawned with grey, drizzling clouds. Aella awoke early, though Nereida continued to doze. Aella kissed her wife, telling her that she was going to the Tooth. She had things to arrange. Nereida smiled into their pillow, not opening her eyes.

“Off to see your other wife?” Nereida teased. Aella snickered and kissed her wife’s cheek. She got dressed in her uniform, and headed out before even her children were awake.

The city was calm so early in the morning. Bakeries filled the streets with the sweet smell of bread baking. Somewhere, a dog barked. There was a fine mist in the air, making everything grey. The sea seemed blanketed in mist, as if she was unwilling to get out of bed. The salty air was heavy. Still, as she approached the docks, a whistle came from the Tooth. Admiral on deck.

Stepping foot on the old boards filled Aella’s heart with the sweet feeling of coming home. She had not, in the week since the Tooth arrived, dared to step on her. She had been afraid that she would want to simply set sail, to never return. But now she knew that was a baseless fear. She ignored the crew as they gathered, heading, first, to the main mast. She placed her hand on the gnarled, pockmarked wood silently, breathing slowly. The ship felt the same. She was unscarred from her last journey.

“Admiral?” Evander’s voice was quiet, but carried well in the quiet. The sound of the waves was muted, as if she was still standing on shore.

“Shore leave,” she declared loudly, letting her voice carry. “The moon is waning, and you, my crew, have pushed yourselves for months and months without reprieve. Everyone gets shore leave, a bonus,” she smiled, thinking of the pile of gold that had been gifted to them, “and we will set sail on the next full moon at dawn!” A cheer went up, first at shore leave, then again at bonus, finally at the mention of the full moon. She turned to Evander. “Can you see to it?”

“Absolutely, Admiral,” he replied with a grin. “These old bones need a rest. Permission to see to minor repairs we’d been putting off?”

“Granted,” she clapped him on the shoulder.

She spent a few hours aboard her ship, wandering about and looking for differences. Once she was fully satisfied, she left to see her family, her heart soaring. She could taste the salty air, the freedom the wind promised dancing around her.

There were still so many preparations, however, and much to do. They had to open the rest of the gifts, she had to see if Caleb wanted to serve out his commission with them, and she had to help Cruesa through the new moon.

Aella chose the easiest thing first. She asked the servants to bring their gifts to their suite, so that they could begin the task of opening them, and preparing thank-you letters. There seemed as if there were more than there had been the night before, all wrapped in colourful paper. Almost a third of them did not even have names attached, as if Nereida and her were supposed to recall, just based on the paper, who had given what. Aella scowled at the gifts without tags, as if she could frighten the secrets out of them, but her wife laughed.

“Mother was watching, she’s made a list.”

“Your mother is a touch frightening, love.” Aella smiled, and reached for a present. Her instincts screamed at her, and she hastily put it on the floor. She looked up at Nereida, motioning for her to back up. “Who was this one from?”

“Caleb’s parents,” Nereida answered after consulting the list. “What is wrong, love?”

“Not… not certain.” She poked at the paper, as if it would bite her like a snake.

Nereida hurried off to tell the nanny to keep the kids outside, before she fetched a guard.

“We want a witness,” Nereida explained as two of them trotted up in their pressed uniforms. “My wife suspects foul play,” and she motioned to the package. The taller of the two guards went to open it, though first he put on thick, heavy gloves that creaked when he made a fist.

“Stand back for your safety,” the guard half growled, hardly looking at either of them. He drew cloth up over his mouth, clearly taking Aella’s suspicion seriously. She pulled Nereida behind her, keeping her wife well out of the way of whatever foul thing was inside the present.

Tumbling out of the bright paper and simple wood box was a golden amulet. Inside the gold, set like a gem, was a familiar-looking silvery blue scale bigger than a gold coin. The fabric it sat in was a deep, reddish-brown. There was strange lettering around the edges that Aella could not read.

“The fabric isn’t dyed,” the soldier grumbled. “This is a blood-soaked mourning dress.” He looked up at Nereida. “With your permission, Princess, I would like to bring this to the Captain and the King immediately. Do you know who sent it?” Nereida told him, her voice shaking. She was staring at the letters.

“What does it say, love?”

“Debt due.” The siren swallowed. “An old dialect, seen mostly in histories… and… where is Epelda?”

“Back on the ship, love. Why?”

“Because… I killed their daughter, their eldest daughter.” Nereida was shaking, though with rage or fear Aella couldn’t say. She looked up at the guards.

“Get that thing tested for poison. I’m going to the Dragon’s Tooth, send the Guard Captain there!”

“Yes ma’am.”

Aella grabbed a cloak, and rushed out in her slippers, making her way down the wet, muddy roads. She did not slow, did not wait for Nereida. Halfway there, her lungs burned from how hard she ran, and she wished, not for the first time, that she had wings as Epelda did. She heard someone calling after her, a tenor voice that she did not recognize, but she did not dare slow.

She slipped in the mud, skidding into a lamppost and knocking the wind from her lungs. She gasped, a sharp pain in her arm. She shook her arm a few times. It wasn’t broken. That was all that she cared about. She got to her feet, catching her breath and trotting downhill. She knew she could not go all out any longer. She’d get hurt, and then she’d be of no help! Someone called her name, and she turned to see the Guard Captain astride his horse, the huge animal bearing down toward her with frightening speed.

“She can carry us both,” the Captain said as he slowed beside her. “It will be faster than you can run.” He helped her up.

People scattered out of the way of a magnificent beast galloping down the street. Aella dismounted and ran to the gangplank. She found chaos on her deck. One of her crewmen, one who was moon-blooded, was being pulled off of Epelda by Evander. A messenger in bright yellow and blue livery held a package in bright coloured paper, looking shocked at the scene.

“Enough!” Aella roared. Everyone froze, even the poor messenger. “Drop that,” she ordered, pointing angrily at the package. It was the same bright red and yellow paper. The messenger did so and looked to the Captain of the Guard. The gruff older man pulled the messenger aside and began to interrogate him.

“Epelda, you alright?” Aella asked, pushing past everyone. The sylph nodded. Aella turned to the crewman who had tackled her, and motioned for Evander to drop him. “What did you see?”

“A snake in a box,” he replied, his voice shaking. He did not look at Aella, but instead at Epelda. “I’m sorry, Captain, I’m sorry, but you didn’t hear me and…” Epelda held up her hand imperiously, and the man fell silent.

“Forgiven,” she signed, her expression gentle. “You did well.” He grinned, signing his thanks. Aella stared, strange feelings bubbling in her chest, as the crewman saluted her daughter, before quietly asking permission to return to duty. Epelda nodded once, and the man sped off. Everyone returned to what they had been doing. The deck was mostly empty, only ten of the crew on board and visible.

“Countess?” the Guard Captain called. Aella turned to look, as did Epelda. He winced a little. “I’d like to take the box ashore and open it, if you don’t mind.”

Crisis seemingly averted, Aella gave her ascent. She then turned to her daughter, signing slowly to her.

“Assassination,” was all she managed. Epelda’s face twisted into a hard, angry expression that looked so much like the Dragon of the Wind had that Aella felt the breath leave her chest.

“Who?”

“Leave it to the Salamanders,” Aella signed sharply. “They are law.” She left unsaid that nobles rarely paid the same price as others. She left unsaid that the poor messenger was more likely to die for his employers’ sin than the truly guilty were. She would not burden Epelda with any of that.

“Who?” Epelda’s face got harder, her eyes narrowing.

“Nobles. I will tell you more later, daughter, I promise.” She looked back. “My wife killed their daughter. They tried to take your life to balance the scales.” Epelda’s lips curled back at that, but the stone-hard expression finally melted to something she recognized on her daughter’s face: worry.

“Is Water-Mama alright?”

“She’ll be better when she knows you are safe.”

None of them felt safe, however, when the guards caught up to the noble’s caravan to find they were not inside the covered wagon. They had escaped on foot, and sent the caravan as a distraction. Word spread through the castle, and, likely through the marketplace, about their treachery, their attempted murder of the princess’s heir. After Camina’s death, the threat of another young royal being killed made the guards extremely nervous. The package had contained a necklace that was etched with the same strange language. They received the report two days after the attack: the necklace had a spring-loaded spike in it that deployed if it was held tightly or handled roughly. The spike had been coated in something poisonous.

For nearly two weeks, there was no movement on the would-be assassins’ whereabouts. Aella spent much of her time preparing her cousin for their night spent beneath the light of the new moon. Cruesa was nervous, and quietly confided in Aella, and only Aella, that she feared the assassin would return during the new moon. It was a time of grief, ill luck and madness, and so when better to finish an assassination? Aella assured her that was unlikely, as the Salamanders did not have the same traditions or superstitions.

Aella took her cousin to their vacation cabin the day before the new moon. It was a hard trek, through the thick mud of early spring. Every step squelched, the boots would be ruined beyond repair by the time the trek was over, and they still had to get back. Cruesa complained surprisingly little for someone who was accustomed to being brought everywhere by carriage. Nereida and the children had remained behind, since Aella did not want either boy pestering Cruesa with endless questions. She had already raised her children to adulthood, would have grandchildren soon most likely and she did not need the chaos that the boys would bring.

They conversed about Aella’s journeys in more detail, and Aella got to hear more about the princesses, who were all older than Epelda. Cruesa put up no airs, and just talked to her like an equal. Aella felt a strange contentment, even as she prepared Cruesa for sleeping beneath the stars. As Nereida had done for her, she had Cruesa do a small mourning ritual, leaving the grief as ash, eating food heated by the fires of grief and love. Cruesa told her of her first love, a Peri man, who she had been preparing to wed when he had been murdered on the road by a pack of bandits. She never recovered the bracelet that he had worn. She still thought of him, of what could have been, even though she was happily married. Her husband was a kind, thoughtful man. But he was not her first love, and that still haunted her.

“Nereida’s my first, but I am not hers,” Aella said softly. One did not speak of love in public, but this was…. This was a moment they both needed. “I’m never sure if I am doing it right… being married.” Cruesa’s smile was sweet and reassuring.

“Oh cousin, I have seen how you look at each other. You have nothing to fear. Keep doing what you are doing.”

Night fell, cool and crisp. Aella set them both up with as many blankets as she could find in the vacation house. It was cool enough that their breath came out as small clouds, and so Aella built a fire. Cruesa had to sleep beneath the light of the moon, but that did not mean that she had to be uncomfortable. They spoke on everything and on nothing until Cruesa’s eyes were drooping. Aella tucked her in as if she were a child, getting a wry smile.

“Tell anyone and I will exile you,” Cruesa murmured. Aella chuckled softly, and began her vigil, watching over her Queen as she conquered her fear.

The night was peaceful, serene, and silent. It was too early in the spring for the endless noise of bugs, they were too far from the ocean to hear it, and even the wind was still. The sky was cloudless, and the stars shone down with cool detachment. Aella let the feeling of loneliness crash over her like a wave, but she did not let it drown her. The feeling wasn’t hers, she was certain, but the Moon’s leftover grief and pain. She saw, felt, her patron’s worry for her adoptive son.

“I’ll go soon,” she promised, looking up at the hole in the sky where the Moon should have been. Now it was only darkness, cold and lonely.

Cruesa suffered much as Aella had, with visions that knocked her out for nearly three days. Aella, at least, knew they were safe, had all the tools to help her cousin and knew that the visions were not fatal. Still, it was a nerve-wracking time, and she felt like a mother hen, fussing about with no real change. Caleb, of all people, showed up with extra supplies on the third day.

“Nerry sent me,” he said, standing awkwardly on the front step with an overloaded pack on his back. “I’m not… I’m not exactly welcome at home at the moment.” His voice cracked on the word “home” and Aella felt a twinge of sympathy. She invited him in.

She began preparing the broth for Cruesa, keeping busy as the one-handed noble sat down at the table. He folded as if he were exhausted down to his bones, and he looked older than the last time she saw him.

“They caught them.” His voice was quiet, full of hundreds of little emotions. “I…”

“They made their choice, Caleb.” The man looked startled at her, so she continued. “But I do not blame you for their idiocy.” She poured the broth into one of the cups, then poured a second cup, passing it to Caleb. He held it in his hand, warming his fingers. He did not cry, he just stared into the cup as if it held the answers to everything in his life. “We are leaving with the Full Moon,” Aella continued, keeping her tone even. She would not coddle him, he wouldn’t want it. “Your commission waits on my ship.” He closed his eyes, breathing in the warm, comforting scent of the chicken broth.

“I accept,” he whispered softly. “My life is yours, Admiral.”

“Your life is your own,” she snapped. “You serve on the ship, but you also live on it. Do we have an understanding?” He blinked a few times, before he sipped the broth.

“Aye, Admiral.”

“Good. Now, I will make sure you get a proper goodbye with your children, and if your husband or brother-in-law has a problem with that, I will set my wife on them without hesitation.” He smiled weakly at that, and then went back to looking at the broth.

The Queen’s recovery went well, and they returned home to chaos; the would-be assassins had been put to trial in their absence, which irked Aella. It was her daughter they’d tried to kill. But Basiano would not be gainsayed, and he demanded swift justice. And so, when the trio returned from the cabin, they found the traitors were still hanging in the gallows for all to see. A message from Basiano: his family would be protected at all cost, and he did not care who you were. Aella pulled Caleb’s hood over his eyes so he did not have to see the remains of his parents dangling and fly-covered. They could not leave this place fast enough.

Preparations felt as if they took forever; Nereida had long, drawn out visits with all her family, which she usually came back from with tears on her face. Aella split her time between the castle and her ship. Caleb moved to the ship, giving them their space. Matthias, too, was often aboard the Tooth, learning to sign so that he could understand the orders Epelda gave. They were “invited” to a big dinner on their last evening in the castle, a grand, almost ball-like affair with Queen Creusa, Matthias and a smattering of nobles. Nereida floated around the room, all bright smiles, her tears already shed. Caleb was notably not in attendance, but he had gotten two days to spend with his children, and he had given a trusted member of staff a pile of letters to deliver to his children as they grew, so they would know he had not forgotten them.

Finally, on the second Full Moon of Spring, as dawn burned away the mist on the ocean, Aella climbed aboard the Tooth once again in her uniform. Her Queen declared her blessing of their trip from on the dock, standing beside Basiano and his two wives. The other two brothers watched from shore, looking anxious, standing on either side of their mother. The Dowager Queen kept a brave face as she watched her daughter and grandchildren board the ship. Someone played a triumphant horn from on shore. Aella gave the order to pull the gangplank, and set sail.

“Where to?” Nereida asked softly. Aella looked up at the sky. The moon was gone from the sky for now, but she would bring her face back with the night.

“The demons are moving in on the gnomes,” Aella told her wife. She wrapped her arm around Nereida, pulling her close. Their boys played on the deck, squealing in delight as Evander pretended to die from one of their sword swings. Epelda stood nearby, a look of quiet contemplation on her face as she watched Jules play with Damara. It was perfect. “Let’s find out why.” She gave the order, the sails came down, and, at last, she was home.