Blood poured from its wound. The beast shrieked, its voice sending shock waves through the water.
Several of the mermen tumbled backward through the water, crashing into Fomoria's firmament.
I tried to reach out... I tried to speak to the wyrms like I had before.
But I couldn't make the connection. There was too much magical interference.
Titus raised his hand, his trident re-forming in his grip. He shouted something—his voice, while probably quite booming, wasn't anything like the wyrm's roar.
The merlegion assembled in a half-arc as they pursued the injured wyrm.
The mother wyrm turned and charged after them, swiping them with her tail, sending them somersaulting through the water in random directions.
Agwe raised his trident and shouted something. The merlegion returned to his position and, upon another order, retreated back to the city...
Even as the wyrm fled into the darkness.
6
I WAITED AT the top of the king's spire for what felt like hours. Had they forgotten about me? Probably.
Or, this was more than a temporary prison.
Maybe it was best.
Hopefully, they'd feed me. Not that Fomorian food is the best. No fire means no cooking. A lot of fish. Uncooked. Slimy. Gross.
Never been a big fan of sushi. And this stuff wasn't even accompanied by rice.
I wanted a country fried steak and a slice of sweet potato pie. Wash it down with some sweet tea.
My stomach growled.
That was one thing I'd miss from my human life. Not just eating good food, but making it. I loved to cook. I enjoyed baking. My cookies were legendary.
Small wars have been fought over my baked goods.
Okay, that's a lie. But if my recipe for banana bread ever got out... I wouldn't be surprised if the pursuit of its acquisition radically altered the foreign policies of small nations.
I wasn't going to get anything baked. Probably couldn't even get a bowl of gumbo, despite our proximity to New Orleans. At this point, though, I'd settle for anything.
My stomach rumbled.
My tail was fish-like... I wondered if it was edible...
I mean, I shifted it there... could I grow it back again?
I didn't have to dwell on the possibility of self-cannibalism too long. No sooner did those thoughts start to pass through my mind, and I heard a click.
The hatch leading to the tunnel out of my temporary prison swung open.
Admiral Agwe emerged. "Apologies, Joni. I didn't mean to keep you waiting. The king granted me permission to escort you back to Cleo's, but we had to go through our debriefing. Standard protocol after any battle."
I shrugged. "Wasn't much of a battle."
Agwe nodded. "I suppose you saw some of it from here?"
"Pretty much saw all of it," I said, swimming toward him. "You know, those things could have wiped you out if they wanted. Surprised they didn't."
Agwe pressed his lips together as he scratched the back of his head. "I cannot speak of this. Not now. Not here."
"Just so you know," I said. "The wyrms weren't here to attack. They were looking for help... the momma wyrm, she thinks we can help her find her baby."
Agwe cocked his head. "We?"
I sighed. "You know, the Fomorians. I was speaking about us as a collective. I realize I'm not permitted..."
"Follow me," Agwe said, cutting me off.
I nodded. I took the hint.
I followed him through the tunnel much like I'd followed Titus before—only this time, we were going down the tunnel. It actually takes a little more work to swim down than up. Buoyancy and whatnot. But I did my best to mimic the twisting motion I'd seen Titus use with his fin earlier. It was probably not an ideal move if I were in the open sea, but it worked relatively well in a small space.
We swam out of the king's castle spire and through the waters in the direction of Cleo's house... or spire... or hut... or whatever merfolk call their homes.
Agwe didn't want to talk about the minor skirmish between the merlegion and the wyrms. I swam up beside him. I still had other questions. Other facts that had turned up since returning to Fomoria required clarification.
"So, why didn't you tell me you were a Loa?" I asked Agwe as he swam next to me.
"Would it matter if I had?" Agwe asked.
I shrugged. "I have a history with your kind..."
"Your kind..." Agwe echoed my words with an added hint of disdain. "Not all of my kind are the same, Joni."
"So you mean to tell me you're nothing like Baron Samedi."
Agwe rolled his eyes. "He's the Loa of death. A Ghede Loa. I am a Rada Loa. He and I have little more in common than you, a girl born and raised near Baton Rouge might have with an octopus."
I raised an eyebrow. "An octopus? I mean, it has eight legs, and now I don't have any."
Agwe shook his head. "Tentacles. Octopi have tentacles, not legs."
I chuckled. "Fair enough. I don't have any of those either."
"Which, along with other reasons, is precisely my point. Don't let your experience with a Ghede Loa, like Baron Samedi, taint your impression of the rest of us."
"Well, you're more handsome than he is, anyway. So, that's a start." I smirked. I realized it might come across as a little bit of a flirt. But, I figured, one meaningless compliment might help break the ice and signal my willingness not to judge him based on my experiences with Loa in the past.
Agwe nodded. "This is, indeed, one of the better-looking hosts I've had."
I cocked my head. "Wait, your body... is a host?"
Agwe pressed his lips together. "For a Loa to dwell on the earth, or in the seas, we must mount a willing host."
"And people are willing to just let you take over their bodies like that?"
Agwe nodded. "Some, who are particularly devout practitioners of Voodoo, do so willingly. In such cases, our arrangement is typically temporary. However, there are others whose bodies are on the brink of death. In such instances, we might claim a host who offers his or her body... just before he goes with the Ghede. There are rewards in the afterlife for those who offer their bodies for our use."
I bit my cheek. "Since the Ghede Loa are like the grim reapers of your kind, I'm assuming 'go with the Ghede' is a euphemism for death?"
Agwe nodded. "I've dwelt in this host for only a short time, now."
"And he was a merman?"
Agwe nodded. "I am the Loa of the seas, Joni. Some call me the king of the sea. To choose a human host would make things difficult. Not impossible. I mean, shifting between legs and a tail can be done with Fomorian magic, as you well know. Even in this form, I can give myself legs if I must venture to the surface. But it isn't exactly... pleasant. In your case, it was much simpler, given the fact that you have Fomorian blood in your lineage. Granting a fully human body a tail, and the ability to breathe underwater is much more difficult."
I shrugged. "My momma is Fomorian, too. And she's had legs all my life."
Agwe grinned. "Fomorians are natural shapeshifters. Some more closely resemble trees, in fact, than either human or mer."
I nodded. "I've seen my momma that way."
"Fomorians," Agwe continued, "prefer the form in which they were born. Even when assuming a different shape, there is an urge to return to one's original shape."
"And my momma was born..."
"She was born in a human form," Agwe said. "Which became her foundation. My host, however, was born in mer form. That was his foundation. Holding another form, it's taxing after a while."
I shrugged. "I was born a human. My tail doesn't seem that difficult to maintain."
Agwe shook his head. "Your capacity to siphon magic, to absorb the power of this place... it makes you unique. I'd say you are the exception rather than the rule. You have more than one foundational form."
I nodded. "Makes sense, I suppose. My gran always used to tell us when we were kids, we needed to work on our foun
dations. Have the right foundation, build that up when you're young, and it will determine how much success you have as you start building your life. I guess when it comes to legs or a tail, it's helpful to have the blood, the right genetic foundation..."
Agwe nodded. "True enough. But unlike the advice your grandmother gave you, your genetic foundation is what you're born with. It's not something alterable."
I huffed. "I don't know about that. This dragon curse, whatever it is left inside of me. It feels like it changed me on a foundational level, Like I'm fundamentally, genetically, a little different than before. More reptilian, if that makes any sense."
Agwe smiled. "Well, you certainly don't look at all reptilian."
I scrunched my brow. "Thanks. I think."
"It was meant to be a compliment," Agwe said.
I giggled. "Well, hon. I'm not saying I don't appreciate it. But if you want to flatter a girl, saying 'well you're hotter than a snake' doesn't exactly cut it."
"Flatter you? Who said I was trying to flatter you?" Agwe winked. The wink was all I needed to realize that he was, indeed, flirting. Don't get me wrong. I suppose I'd started it by complimenting his host. I didn't expect it to escalate. And I'd just been in a relationship... a part of me still remembered what it felt like to love Elijah... before I had to leave him and leave our child with him.
But I wasn't sure I could love like that again.
This instinct, this dragon-like infection in my soul... had it killed my ability to love? Perhaps that was the part of humanity I lost, the part that I inadvertently exchanged for the dragon's essence. Maybe I'd never be able to love again.
What I felt, as I surveyed Agwe's chiseled body, wasn't love. At most, it was lust. At least I still had that. If anything, those urges were magnified now that I had the dragon's essence inside of me. I shuddered to think how strong those compulsions might be if I left Fomoria. The magic here kept my less-desirable dragon-like instincts mostly in check.
In fact, now that I think about it, without legs, I wasn't exactly sure where all my reproductive parts had gone. How do merfolk screw? Was it even possible? Maybe the mer reproduced through psychic intercourse or something. I hoped not. That didn't sound like any fun at all. It was just a theory. Probably not a very good one. Surely, all my woman parts were hidden in my tail scales, somewhere...
Despite my reptilian urges, my desires, I still had enough sense to realize that acting out on them with Agwe wasn't wise. Sure, I wanted to believe him. That he wasn't like the Ghede, I'd met before. But sometimes the devil you know is preferable to the one you don't. I had no clue what a Rada Loa was, not to mention whether they were any better, all things considered than the Ghede. And, besides all that, I'd read enough Greek mythology to know human/deity liaisons rarely ended well.
"Well, Admiral..."
"Just Agwe, please," Agwe said.
I grinned. "Very well, Agwe. Thank you for the escort home. Your company is preferable to that of Titus."
Agwe laughed. "Yes, he's not much of a conversationalist, is he?"
I shook my head. "He's definitely the silent type. Though if I'm honest, a part of that's probably my fault. A guy who looks like him, the intimidation factor sort of takes precedence over any desire for conversation."
Agwe nodded. "A lot of it is just his personality. But he's fought a lot of wars on behalf of Fomoria. More than most, if only because he's survived more wars than most."
"So he's got the PTSD?" I asked.
"The what?" Agwe asked.
"Shell shock. They call it PTSD now. When you've seen so much awful shit, been through a trauma, that it messes with your mind. Not sure that's the most medically accurate description of what happens. But a lot of soldiers who've been to war suffer silently with it."
Agwe nodded. "I suppose that might be what it is."
I cocked my head. "You said wars. Not war. Wars. You used the plural. How many enemies are there for the merfolk to fight? Seems like the ocean is a pretty quiet place most of the time. I mean, when giant wyrms haven't escaped the void."
Agwe put his hand on my back. "You'd be surprised how many insidious creatures dwell in the deep. Creatures you likely don't know about for no other reason than that the Fomorian merlegion has kept them at bay."
I nodded. "I'll have to take your word for it. At some point, I suppose, I'll need education on all this stuff."
"At some point," Agwe said, following me through the door into Cleo's place. "But now that we're inside, we have more pressing matters to discuss."
"Yes, we do," Cleo interjected. "Thank you, Agwe, for volunteering to escort her back. This offers us what might be the only chance we have to consider what must be done."
"What are you two talking about?" I asked.
"The wyrms are not here by accident," Agwe said.
"Well, duh," I said. "I could have told you that. The one I met before, I sensed her thoughts. There was something else. Someone else at work."
Agwe nodded. "The king is blinded by what he thinks is the immediate threat. But if there's someone who has released the wyrm from the void, we need to determine their purpose."
"I agree," I said with a nod. "I think you'd do well to try and sort out whoever is behind it."
"And we need your help to do that," Cleo said as she and Agwe exchanged glances.
I shrugged. "I don't know how much help I can be."
"The threat, we believe, comes from the land, not the sea."
"How can you be sure of that?" I asked.
Agwe's eyes darted back and forth across the room as if he was double-checking to ensure that spies were listening in. "Because no other than a bokor, or a caplata, has ever managed to open the void before. Whoever called forth the wyrms, they know the darker side of the Voodoo arts."
"And I suppose there aren't too many folks who practice Voodoo here, in Fomoria?"
"No one does," Cleo said. "And if they did, the disturbance their magic would cause throughout the firmament, it would be noticeable. The firmament is pure. It's magic untainted by any other source. A single spell, cast beneath it, would become immediately visible."
I looked at Agwe. "But he has another kind of magic, and the firmament is fine."
"The magic of the Loa dwells within me, Joni. It is not something I call upon from without."
I cocked my head. "Well, I'm not an expert in Voodoo. But the sort of magic they wield, it is a gift of the Loa, is it not?"
Agwe nodded. "It is, indeed."
"So only you could call forth the power needed to open the void from within Fomoria without being detected." I didn't mean for my words to sound accusatory. I was simply trying to make sense of it all. It wasn't a shock that Agwe would be a suspect.
"Perhaps, whoever is doing this," Cleo said. "Intends to frame Agwe. But the king trusts him. We all trust him."
"But you're correct," Agwe said. "I can assure you, I have nothing to do with it. But it is only a matter of time before suspicion is cast in my direction. I suspect that, whoever has summoned the wyrms, have done so precisely for this purpose. To compromise my position here."
"Why would they do that?" I asked.
"The merlegions are a formidable force with Agwe's leadership," Cleo said. "Without him, they would be easier to defeat. Significantly easier."
"So you think someone wants to conquer Fomoria?" I asked.
Agwe floated back and forth as though he were pacing. "There have always been those who, having learned of the power that the Fomorians wield, have sought to harness the magic of this place for themselves."
"But how is that even possible? Unless someone is a Fomorian, how could they draw on our magic?"
Agwe cocked his head. "Couldn't someone ask you the same question, Joni?"
"That's different," I said. "I'm a siphon... I don't have any magic myself. I use whatever I..."
As I was saying it, I figured it out. The whole reason the king invited me back, to begin with, was to keep an eye on me. He never
intended for me to live here in complete freedom. Now that the wyrms appeared, it seemed, he had an excuse to keep me under lock and key. He'd only let me leave with Merlin because he knew I'd be back. He knew the rage inside of me, the dragon's curse, would leave me no choice. It all worked out, from his perspective, conveniently. "Even after the wyrm are gone," I continued, "the king doesn't plan to give me freedom at all, does he?"
Cleo shook her head. "I do not believe he does. So long as you are here, and all you can wield is Fomorian power, you're no different than the rest of us. But go out into the world, use our magic, and the magic of others, wield it however you will... you are a threat."
"But he doesn't think I summoned the wyrms, does he?"
"It is difficult to know what the king is thinking," Agwe said. "But either way, we need your help."
I shrugged. "You heard the king. I can't leave. What can I really do?"
"He didn't say you can't leave, Joni. Only if you do, you would not be able to return."
I sighed. "And what sort of help do you need from me?"
"To discover who truly opened the void, the one who summoned the wyrm. Once we know, we can launch an assault. We can stop whoever is responsible. A short, quick-strike on land is possible if it comes to that."
"And based on your abilities," Cleo said. "Whoever is doing this will undoubtedly have interest in you. If you start looking for the bokor who did this, I have no doubt he will find you himself."
I sighed. "Look, I appreciate the predicament this represents for you. For all of you. But you don't know what it's like. To walk the earth, to feel the full force of the dragon's essence clawing away at my soul... here, I'm whole... and you're asking me to risk that for this... mission..."
"We don't know the end game," Agwe said. "But whoever is behind this, if he succeeds, we won't have much of a kingdom left. There won't be a place for you to come to find solace, Joni."
"Where would I even start?" I asked.
"There's a head shop in the French Quarter."
I shrugged. "Aren't there several of those there?"
"The one on Canal street," Agwe said. "Go there and ask for Marie. They might press you a bit. But don't take no for an answer. Eventually, they'll let you see her."
Gates of Eden: Starter Library Page 31