Constant

by Lexi Ander

  He rose and paced again, the odd sensation of dry land without the sense of the ocean’s movement bearing down on him could not distract him from his dark thoughts. First, he could not save Zeus without disrupting the future events that needed to happen. Then he had not foreseen Shaneva’s decision to tell the family about him or the resulting consequence. He shuddered, remembering how Nethus brought him to where Shaneva had been chained. He vividly remembered the days he spent at her side, protecting her from the predators and scavengers alike that were drawn by the blood in the water. He had promised himself no one else would be harmed because of him.

  From that day forward, he searched his visions of the future, walking each pathway, searching for a way to keep those he cared about safe. That was when he uncovered the truth about himself and the monster he would become if he meddled too much. How he would lose his mind through good intentions, and in doing so would harm the very people he strove to protect. But by not acting, he felt he had turned into a different sort of monster.

  Nethus had taught him how to control and then use farseeing, along with his other burgeoning abilities. He showed Canry how his presence would cause strife and problems on shore. Just because he had the ability to change the future did not mean he should, and that was a hard lesson to learn. But not all Nethus’s lessons were correct. The half-truths from Nethus caused problems, including the imbalance with Canry’s connection to both land and water. If it was not rectified quickly, then he could be driven insane quicker, he surmised. But Canry was not all-seeing since there were still events even he could not glimpse, such as Zeus having twins.

  Meme shifted in her seat. He did not know how long he had been pacing, wearing a path in the thick rug. He stopped and looked at her, wondering how he could sufficiently explain without losing her love, the love they all felt for him. The Numina would—Canry jolted as if an electric eel had rubbed against his thighs. He had made a lot of assumptions based on what he knew and had experienced. Though he had watched his family grow through farseeing, he had not interacted with them to learn how they might respond to him. Instead, he had been using his experience with the Numina to anticipate how his family would treat him. The last couple of hours had proven his assumptions thus far had been wrong.

  Knowing a reunion with his family would come, he had peeked into the future a couple of times but broke from the visions when it seemed they would condemn him like he deserved. He could only live through that once, but so far they had not turned their backs on him. They had given him the Song of Greeting. Meme had cried over his return. They were not Numina but Mar’Sani, and he knew little about the People of the Shore other than the Numina despised them for preferring land over the Waters of Poseidon.

  He took a deep breath, and slowly released it.

  “You do not have to tell us anything,” his father reassured. His intense gaze had not left Canry since they had arrived at the suite. “What you have told us so far about your life is sufficient. We are curious and want to know everything about you, but we have time to get to know each other, son.”

  He gathered his courage. They deserved to know… what he could tell them at least. They needed to understand, even if they shunned him afterward. This was not only about him, but about all Atlainticia. He glanced at Sohm’lan and suspected that Shaneva had shared her knowledge with him. Canry had been careful with his meddling, mostly. He had sent Mestor visions of his future with Sohm’lan. More recently, he had to use a heavier hand by guiding Zeus to the Qrxzl. He revealed how Zeus could call for him, leaving the outcome in Zeus’s hands. All these actions would have far-reaching consequences, and if he lost a little of himself to ensure his people survived the multitude of possible futures, then he would either nudge them or stay away in order to give them a chance for a better future.

  “You want to talk but do not currently have complete agency to do so?” Sohm’lan asked.

  Yes, Shaneva had spoken to him. Since Sohm’lan had quickened, she broke no Numina law. His waterfather had not been quickened long, since he was not yet chipped and certain conversations with him were unrestricted.

  “Yes,” Canry whispered. “You must be careful though.” The vision of Atlainticia covered in blood threatened to pull him into a recall.

  “I am aware,” Sohm’lan soothed, rising from his seat, catching Canry as he swayed. “Sit. Tell us what you can.” He was guided to the sofa. Meme and Father parted again, making a space for him between them. When he sat, they both clasped his hands and he immediately felt grounded. He gave a relieved sigh. The visions that were constantly pressing at him seemed muted, far away.

  “I hate seeing you this distraught,” Meme said, petting the back of his head.

  He was surprised to realize she meant it. “I will be fine,” he promised, not wanting to be a burden. “I had made several assumptions about how this reunion would go and have been proven wrong. I am finding it hard to wrap my mind around that.”

  Meme’s eyes narrowed. “You have experienced that much difference between the peoples?”

  He wanted to deny it, defend how he was raised and those who were in his life. Shaneva once told him that sometimes people became sympathetic toward those who controlled a person’s wellbeing, developing compassion so they could survive abusive relationships. He had automatically denied he was such a person. It had bothered him that she only gave him a sad, sympathetic look before changing the subject. So he bit back his defensive response, afraid Shaneva was correct even though he had chosen to stay.

  Instead, he said, “My experience is limited. Much of my time has been spent learning to control my farsight. One of my consequences is recall, when old visions overcome me. My first farsight came shortly after I answered Nethus’s call. Without his help, I would have perished. Even if I had been strong enough to come though my first seeing, I would not have been able to control the recall and been lost then.”

  Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath.

  “The call. Nethus’s call,” his father said softly. “Was that…” He rubbed the fingers of his free hand together as if feeling or grasping for something there but not seen.

  Mestor made a noise and Sohm’lan rested a hand on Mestor’s thigh. “That wave of energy we felt when Canry disappeared is called quickening. It came from Canry,” Sohm’lan supplied.

  “You sensed that back then?” Canry carefully addressed the question to Sohm’lan. He and Mestor were the only safe beings he could speak to about certain things without repercussions. It was not his problem if others who were not quickened overheard them. At least that would be his defense if Nethus came for him.

  Sohm’lan made quick motions, the language of the hands Shaneva had taught him, though he pretended he did not know the language when around the Numina.

  ::Do not ask. Allow me to lead::

  A little tension rushed out of his shoulders, leaving them aching.

  “Yes, I did,” his waterfather replied. “Many of us felt the energy. Did you portal away?”

  Canry held his gaze. “Yes, though I did not know at the time what I had done. I heard Nethus’s call and I knew that I needed to answer it. One moment I was with my family and the next in dark waters, a farseeing vision overtaking me. Nethus walked the vision with me, making sure my mind was not lost in the branches of the possible futures.”

  He pulled his hands away from his parents, focusing on the moisture on his palms. Was he secreting something? Suffering some malady from being away from the Waters? He brought his palms close to his nose and sniffed.

  “Sweat,” Azaes supplied. “Zeus sweats through his skin. Exertion, excessive heat, and stress all cause sweat in some.”

  “Oh, Canry,” Father’s voice was filled with compassion. “To have visions so young, before you were able to speak.”

  “They were frequent, and it took time for me to mature enough so I could be taught how to control when to have them and when not. Nethus walked each vision with me, keeping me safe
and sane.”

  Sohm’lan sat back and Mestor wedged himself under Sohm’lan’s arm. Their combined energies were extraordinary and stronger than anything he had seen so far; well, except for Poseidon.

  “My father has been translating old manuscripts about the bloodlines of Pegasus the Explorer. The ruling bloodline has always had farseers and dreamwalkers.” Sohm’lan rubbed his chin scales over Mestor’s temple. “The first farseers were strong like you. I could send my father a message and ask him to pull everything he can find on the subject for you.”

  “There have been others like me?” All this time he thought he was the only one, a freak mutation. To read something by others who experienced what he did would be… would be such a relief. “I would like that very much.”

  “It is late, and we need to rise in a couple of hours,” Meme interjected. Canry immediately grabbed her hand, suddenly afraid of being alone.

  “There is more I must tell you.” He had to do this while he had the courage.

  She cupped his cheek. “You are the strongest farseer of this era. You condemn yourself for not interfering when one of us comes to harm. Even now, visions hound you, I recognize the signs. I have two other sons and a mate who also farsee. You carry a mantle of guilt that is not yours to bear, but in time you will learn to put down what does not belong to you. And no, there is nothing that will make me stop loving you. We are all proud of you, though I do not think you believe us. Again, in time you will.”

  “But… but… I should have returned, should have let you know I was all right. I should have—”

  Meme made a rude noise that startled a surprised laugh out of Canry. “The person who took up your guardianship was the one responsible for that list of ‘should haves’.” Her amber eyes blazed like a desert sun, and he sensed a niggle of quickening stir in her, not quite awake but close. “This Nethus is the party responsible, not you. Do not forget that I heard Sohm’lan say you do not have agency to speak freely, and I sense this Nethus is responsible for that as well. But even if you had chosen of your own free will not to return to us until now, I would not be angry with you. You are my son, a living piece of my heart. I will—we will—always love you.”

  The shark in Canry’s stomach burst out of his chest, the song of a deep-water whale escaping his lips. He sobbed as Meme pressed her forehead to his, her eyes steady as he cried with relief. He was aware of being surrounded; soothing songs hiss-clicked alongside his own. All his life, people had warned him his family would react negatively if they knew, and he had believed them. What other lies had been told to him? He was afraid to find out.

  Once the pressure valve could be replaced on his emotions, he wiped his eyes momentarily hiding his embarrassment. Internal whispers of condemnation over his weak display haunted him.

  “Do you want me to stay the rest of the night?” Meme asked, releasing him with a reluctance that shooed away the nasty voices that listed all his wrongs.

  He wished he had the courage to say yes. But he had just reunited with them, and they had much to do on the morrow. He could not, in good conscience, ask any of them to stay, causing them to be too weary to fight the next day’s battles.

  “Perhaps next time,” he hedged, part of him sure the offer was only given as a polite courtesy. Or perhaps not, he argued with himself.

  “It is settled then,” she said with finality. “I will make the arrangement for tomorrow night then.”

  Canry was startled by her declaration and rose when she did, in a daze, amazed she had been completely serious. When she pressed her forehead to his again, he leaned into her ever so slightly.

  “I expect you at midday meal tomorrow,” Father said, replacing Meme. This time he gently grasped Canry’s neck, encouraging Canry to rest against him.

  “Where do I go?” he asked. “I have never been here before.”

  “Trust the Monticore to take you,” Azaes said, crowding their father so he too could press foreheads.

  “And do not go anywhere without your guard,” Mestor added, pushing Azaes out of the way.

  Sohm’lan made a disapproving noise. “You two are acting like young up past your birth-bed time.” Though his words were chastising, Canry heard adoration. “And you.” Sohm’lan embraced him, squeezing just hard enough that Canry felt secure. “You are not to go into the waters outside of the palace without one of us. For your safety and because your sister was rather demanding.” Canry laughed to his hide fear. The lightest touch on his mind had him looking up at his waterfather. “Promise me that you will remain in the palace. Go nowhere without the Monticore.”

  Of all the visions he’d had, the thousand times he had peeked only a few minutes into the futures of his family so he could watch over them, he had never seen Mestor or Sohm’lan quicken. That Sohm’lan could speak to him, mind to mind, was something he would eventually get used to. “Yes, Waterfather,” he replied aloud and received an adoring grin in return.

  Everyone moved to the door except Ariafella. Her unusual eyes were sharp as she watched him with an intelligence and hot anger he had missed seeing earlier.

  “I have the utmost respect for the burdens farseers carry,” she started. It was clear she struggled to remain civil.

  “Ari,” Azaes said from the doorway, a warning in his tone.

  She shot him a hot glare. “We will have words later. Do not think that you are safe from my anger.”

  When she turned back to Canry, he took a cautious step back. Not that he believed she would attack him, but the emotions he sensed were strong and raging like a hurricane and yet her stance remained loose and relaxed. She would make an excellent empress.

  “As I was saying, I respect your responsibilities as a farseer, but I would like a good reason why we should continue to keep Zeus in the dark about Rathmar and Timsah. I have only recently learned the truth of the matter, and I have to say I find no value in keeping this knowledge to ourselves. Timsah—Azaes and Mestor kept their pieces of knowledge about what happened from their parents, and their parents did the same. Both parties kept me in the dark, not even Rathmar would confide in me, and though I understood their reasons, I am highly disappointed in all of them. Hiding and keeping this vile secret has no value. Timsah could have been brought to justice before now. But he has been left to his own devices, and now he seeks to unseat Valdor. Keeping any of this from Zeus, even for a few more moons, makes absolutely no sense. Explain to me why I should not tell my best friend that our friend, Rathmar, is not guilty of… “Ariafella’s calm veneer cracked and her breath shuddered out as she struggled with the emotions Canry sensed growing out of control.

  “Fair enough,” he reluctantly replied.

  Azaes approached Ariafella slowly, hands out to his side, palms facing outward in a cautious surrender. His expression was filled with understanding and sorrow. “Ari, please.”

  For a moment, she regarded his offer of comfort with wariness, then relented, through she was obviously still upset with him.

  “There are several reasons why it is prudent to wait before telling Zeus what actually happened when Timsah captured him and Rathmar. Zeus will remain here in Haven while Dargon and his crew wrap things up with the Galactic Imperials. It will be moons before he returns home and he will spend that time building walls of guilt. I could argue that Zeus would spend his free time turning over every memory and action, internalizing every mistake for believing the worst about Rathmar, especially for believing Rathmar’s words when he set Zeus free. He will struggle to forgive himself for his easy acceptance that Rathmar had changed so completely in the blink of an eye. He would spend the next moons carrying the knowledge that he left his lover and one of his best friends behind to be further tortured, and yet would be unable to resolve anything with Rathmar. “

  Ariafella gave him a look of disbelief. He smiled gently and released another secret about himself. “Just because I was not present does not mean I did not watch over my family. It took many summers before I did not need
Nethus to pull me out of a vision when they overtook me unexpectedly. I had to learn how to shield my mind, then how to walk the pathways of the future without becoming lost. When I learned how to call upon the visions, I secretly spent time stepping a few minutes ahead in order to see my family’s future. I watched when I could as each event unfolded in your lives. And while I cannot claim to be close to any of you, I have been watching long enough to guess how Zeus would react.”

  He looked to where his parents, Mestor, and Sohm’lan stood near the door. All of them understood what he revealed and still there was no revulsion or rage. For a moment, confusion clouded his thoughts, but Ariafella’s sniffle reminded him what he had been asked.

  “Or I could simply tell you one of the more likely futures for Zeus.” He met her gaze so she would see this was no mere guess. “Tomorrow, he will come face to face with Timsah for the first time since that night Rathmar sent him away. It will be hard for him, but he will come out of the confrontation stronger and more confident. If you tell him what happened, he will murder Timsah in front of the Galactic Imperials and members of the Council of Neighn.”

  “No!” she gasped.

  “There are other possible pathways,” Azaes replied. “You cannot know that would be the one he takes.”

  “You are correct. His future always has dozens of branches. I would say he is part chaos with the multitude of possibilities springing from him every few minutes. But in this event, there were hundreds of futures where he kills Timsah and only one in which he did not.” As he looked at them, he saw their disbelief. He might as well tell them the rest. “After committing this crime, it will not matter that Timsah colluded to remove the Vondorians from the Atlaintician Throne. The Galactic Imperials will feel it is prudent to have new leadership selected. The possibility of war is high, and they need Atlainticia whole and without strife.

  “Dargon and Alpha will beg Zeus to agree to the Council of Neighn’s recommendation to take the Bespoken’s place. As a part of a Trine he cannot be put to death for the murder. In a couple of the branches, Dargon and the kits would die, and Alpha would… you do not want to know what Alpha can and will do if something happens to either Dargon, Zeus, or the kits. It is either serve as the Bespoken or incarcerate all three of them. Since Zeus would not want his mates to go to prison with him, he would allow himself to be pressed into service.” Canry paused, contemplating telling them what happened to a being chosen to be the Bespoken but decided they did not need to know how Zeus would be utterly changed. “For the next one hundred Galactic Standard years, he would serve as the Bespoken, bonded to Vipre and Malek in ways that cannot be undone. If Dargon and Alpha are allowed to stay nearby since they will not be allowed to live with him for security reasons, then there they will wait for Princess Athena to bear and raise the next Bespoken. Only then would Zeus’s service to the Valespian Pact be concluded.