by Lexi Ander
“In the meantime, the Vondorians will have lost the throne, the family eventually splitting up and going their separate ways.” He stopped. Their stricken expressions told him they completely understood the consequences. Tears flowed from Ariafella’s eyes.
“Or I could tell you that this is not only about Zeus. Rathmar is not ready to be forgiven. He has been carrying this burden for so long. Protecting Zeus. Protecting his siblings. He has always felt responsible for Timsah discovering his relationship with Zeus. He believes he deserved every blow, every cut, every scar Timsah gave him. By the time Zeus returns home, Rathmar will be more receptive to at least seeing Zeus.”
Ariafella wiped her eyes. “I apologize for questioning your wisdom.”
“You are their friend and are worried, have been worried for summers.” Canry tried not to squirm, not knowing what else to say in the face of an apology. No one—
Ariafella hugged him, giving him no time to pull away. “You are an excellent brother to be watching out for him so diligently. I am glad I asked for an explanation, otherwise I would have done something foolish. Please forgive my impertinence.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Zeus is fortunate to have such a friend as you.”
When she pressed her forehead against his, she smiled. “My morning is free. Would you be interested in breaking your fast with me?”
His heart fluttered, a stupid reaction to being included. “I would enjoy that,” he replied as heat suffused his skin.
“Excellent, I will have the Monticore notify me when they hear you rise.” She gave him a graceful bow. “Rest well.”
He stared at the closed doors after everyone left. That had not gone like he had anticipated. It seemed he had been foolishly sure about so many things.
“I am here.”
Even though Haven was the City of a Thousand Waterfalls, Canry had heard the suites for the different water-bound species who, like the Mar’Sani, spent a great deal of their daily lives in water, came with indoor poolrooms. There the composition and salinity of the water were the same as the guest’s home planet.
He charged through another set of double doors, oblivious to the colorful murals of Atlaintician life displayed on the rounded walls or the crystal-paned roof that let in natural moonlight. Except for the walkway around the circular in-ground structure, the room was all water.
And there floating in the center was his sister. He slipped into the pool and crossed to her, desperately needing her familiarity. He embraced her as if she were a lifeline in deep, stormy waters.
“You said… but I did not believe… I do not understand how they can accept me after all I have done.” Perhaps there would be a tipping point, or maybe not.
“They understand the restrictions of farseers, for one. And I think the twins are flattered and they will preen with knowing how closely you have watched over them. Third, they have grown up in a healthy environment and can correctly assess who is responsible for any wrongdoing, and that person is not you. What you experienced with this reunion is true love, brother mine. It is not loyalty cultivated through fear and guilt.”
“Nethus loves me,” he said defensively. Canry always thought it was a parental love.
His sister glanced away, frustration twisting her lips. “He loves you in his way, which shows he has some heart, but it is a selfish and twisted love,” she replied, her voice gentling. “He purposely made you reliant on him for everything. The only reason he allowed me to be a part of your life is because you were gravely ill.”
“He had my best interests—”
She made a negative noise. “If that were true, you would have been properly prepared for your first call to battle.”
In his heart, he knew she was correct. But Nethus had saved him, kept him from being lost in his mind when he quickened. He was the one who taught him how to handle and manage his rapidly growing abilities. He gave Canry shelter and food, even protected Canry from the Numina when he could. Did Canry not owe Nethus for all those things?
There was also the personal knowledge Canry held when it came to his mentor. As a farseer, Nethus could see the future as well, but only futures of the people he tutored. Something in Canry’s caused Nethus to be as overbearing as he was, a secret Nethus never confided to him.
He held compassion for Nethus. He had glimpsed many pathways of Nethus’s life and what he saw he shared with no one, not even Shaneva. His farseeing allowed him to see the good through the bad his sister pointed out. He understood the choices Nethus made, even if he did not agree with them. There would come a time when Nethus would face danger and meet challenges he was not aware were coming. He would be given a new purpose that would change the core of who he was. Beyond that, the pathways split into too many branches for Canry to decide which would win out.
“You are not responsible for Nethus or his actions,” she said, butting into his thoughts.
“Am I not?” he countered, suddenly feeling obstinate. “If I had not been a freak and quickened—”
“Keep talking and I will challenge you to a fight in the gyre circle,” she snapped, her eyes blazing with anger. “You have no control over your biology, idiot. You are smarter than that.”
“I just feel this urge to protect him. He has done some terrible things, but he is not evil.”
She snorted her disbelief. Canry sagged. She had good reason to despise Nethus. People made mistakes, sometimes awful ones, but that did not mean they were ruined for all time.
“You were… people raised in abusive households make excuses for their abusers, Canry. They feel guilty about doubting the character of the person who is supposed to care for them.” She paused. “You know what. Let us not talk about this right now.”
He readily agreed. They were only rehashing old arguments. “We are both exhausted. I brought bedding.” She indicated the pool floor. “I will stay with you tonight.”
Relieved he would not be alone, Canry followed her down and they snuggled into the moss-like bedding. Her fingers entwined with his. If he floated away from her side, the connection would ensure she stayed with him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sohm’lan
* * *
Sohm’lan was ready for an extended period of rest. Spending time with Canry late into the night was followed by a long conversation with Mestor about what had happened off the shore of Haven. Today was one meeting after another, as the Council of Neighn delved into Timsah’s treachery. They, too, anticipated a coming war with the Terrens and V’Saar, especially after what was revealed by Terren soldiers and officers seeking asylum. The council had a vested interest in Atlainticia being whole and not plagued with internal strife. He imagined Timsah rued the day he’d devised the scheme to unseat Valdor from the throne.
Mestor had told him Valdor spoke to Zeus about Timsah without revealing anything that would start the chain of events Canry had warned of. Then about the trial and inquisition. In the first, Zeus acquired the service of the Catalani assassin, and in the second, Zeus faced Timsah and his collaborators with calm dignity, and Timsah attempted to kill him. Most of the Monticore thought Zeus walked on water and by the time they returned home, all would know about their beloved Striker.
With late-meal quickly approaching, Sohm’lan and Mestor had gathered platters of their favorite foods, and they were making their way to the Kracciam wing of the palace. Stopped by palace guards overseeing the entrance to the wing, they gave their names and their business. Four Dire D’Noss were loitering in a nearby seating arrangement, and they perked up upon hearing who they were but said nothing. The way he and Mestor were watched was disconcerting. He wondered if their interest had to do with rumors of the day’s events or something else.
“Go to the very end of the hallway,” one of the guards directed. “Everyone is in the main poolroom.”
Mestor was excited to visit the Kracciam wing. The planetary diplomats usually reserved one of the palace meeting rooms to receive guests. Rarely did a
nother species see the private rooms of a councilmember. Arion’s involvement had opened possibilities between their two peoples. Yes, Atlainticia had trade agreements with Hhorta, but Sohm’lan felt they had been given a rare opportunity to forge a deeper relationship with the Kracciam and Otaria. Kracciam did not give friendship lightly, and he sensed their assistance with Segna and Adaro was something akin to them testing the Mar’Sani. He suspected that how they eventually dealt with the Numina would carry more meaning than words.
The doors at the end of the hallway were massive. The palace boasted canals for the species who could not leave the water. But if the watercourses did not lead to a destination that a Kracciam wanted to go, they were transported in large pods through the halls. The size of the doors was a testament to the dimensions of such a transport.
An Otaria waited, her diminutive height looked even smaller next to the doors. “It is good to see you again, Warlord Sohm’lan,” Hina greeted.
“Good eve, Hina, Bondmate of Akalan. This is Prince Mestor Vondorian, my future lifemate.” He felt a rush of pride. This was the first time he had introduced Mestor as such.
Hina pressed her palms together. “Welcome to our poolroom, Warlord Sohm’lan and Prince Mestor. We are just starting late-meal and had hoped you would join us.”
“We would be honored,” Mestor replied, holding up the containers he carried. “We brought some foods we thought Segna, Adaro, and their youngling would enjoy.”
Hina ushered them through the doorway. “I am sure they would appreciate something familiar.”
Sohm’lan stepped lightly in order to hear the Otaria speak, her soft voice nearer to his knees than his ears.
The poolroom was much larger than the one in Valdor’s and Ashari’s suite and resembled a lakeshore. The glass dome overhead showed a dark night sky, only a few stars shining through Haven’s light pollution. A bank of tall windows gave a view of a waterfall caught in a blue-green pool. A balcony extended around the outdoor body of water, giving the Otaria space to lounge. As they walked with Hina, she described their interior pool which could hold twenty mature Kracciam. In the blue depths were canals to individual quarters, leading outside, or even to the ocean.
Several Otaria were gathered in the shallows around a mound of boulders. Seats and smooth areas were carved into the hard surfaces, too small for the Dire D’Noss who floated in the circle of rock. Kryp’s back rested against a large boulder, a youngling sitting on his chest. Mestor made a soft noise of surprise. How had Kryp come to be there, and what was he doing with the youngling?
Kryp chewed spastically, the youngling had her little hands resting on his powder-white cheeks watching his mouth intently.
“Kryp?” Mestor did not hide his surprise.
The Dire D’Noss did not move but his light blue eyes looked up from the youngling.
“What are you doing here?” Mestor asked while Sohm’lan carried the packages to the nearest table.
Kryp’s antennae wiggled excitedly, the colors changing quickly, not resting on any one hue, but a combination that Sohm’lan had not seen Kryp display before. Mestor disrobed and waded into the pool while Sohm’lan sat on the edge, dangling his legs in the warm water. Seated, he was closer to Hina’s height and better able to watch Kryp. What was he chewing?
“Our doctors are concerned,” Hina said, coming to stand next to him. “Segna gave birth in captivity and seemingly without help. There were complications that did not kill her but damaged her. Her body worked hard against itself to produce sustenance for the little calf, causing her to weaken further. If she had been fed properly, she might have had a chance. What they did to her…” Hina met Sohm’lan’s gaze and he could see what she hesitated to say.
“She is dying,” he supplied.
“She would have passed last night if we had not brought her here. Our doctors have tried everything but she…” Hina raised her hands in a gently shrug. “She is unconscious and they do not expect her to wake before she passes.”
Sohm’lan struggled to keep from being dragged into memories of Niobe and the night he lost her and their youngling. Adaro had to be in full rampage mode.
“Where have you kept Adaro?” How much compensation would Valdor need to arrange for to replace what Adaro had destroyed? Why had the Kracciam not contacted them and let them know Adaro was out of control?
“I am afraid that when she passes so will he. Adaro has not left her side and has become lethargic. On Hhorta, it is common for bonded pairs to pass together so our doctor has respected Adaro’s wishes and left him with Segna.”
Sohm’lan nodded. Some Atlainticians passed with their lifemate, though only a small percentage. He had always thought they were older, mates nearing the end of their lives, but he could not be sure.
The youngling squealed, patting Kryp’s face and he puckered up. She leaned forwards and Sohm’lan watched in fascination as she gobbled up what Kryp had been chewing and spit out.
“We contacted Empress Ashari, searching for a lactating Mar’Sani. There are not any here, but the empress was kind enough to relay that the substitute they occasionally used came from the Dire D’Noss’s homeworld. The milk comes in hard squares. When I contacted Councilmember Seclord Drosl Brouq’yd’Xe about how to reconstitute the cubes.” Hina waved a webbed hand toward Kryp as if to say this was their response.
Kryp grinned at the youngling. “Our caregivers chew the cubes, the saliva turns the solid into a digestible meal for offspring. Drosl did not tell me that I was delivering the cubes for an offspring who also needed a caregiver. Once Hina explained the situation, how could I say no? I am technically too young to be a caregiver, but my saliva glands are fully mature. I think Drosl and Grandfather conspired to remove me from danger by putting this little one in my path. It is an underhanded move. Now,” he pointed at his multicolored antennae, “that I have manipulated the saliva glands, the color change indicates I am a caregiver with offspring, and my antennae will not return to normal until the offspring is out of my care. I will be unable to hide among Grandfather’s enemies to gather intelligence.”
The youngling swallowed and rocked on Kryp’s chest excitedly. He looked at her and gave her a fond smile, digging in a dish at his elbow, he withdrew a wiggling fish. The youngling snatched it up and chewed the tail.
“Easy Matsya. There is plenty of food here. Caregiver Kryp will not allow you to starve again. Promise.”
As if she understood him, the youngling slowed her chewing.
“Matsya?” Mestor asked, lifting a white cube from the plate and sniffing it.
“Segna had not been able to tell us the little calf’s name and Adaro does not respond to our inquiries,” Hina replied.
“I got tired of thinking about her as ‘the offspring’,” Kryp added. “So, I gave her a sweeting name. Matsya is a minor deity in Dire D’Noss mythology. Manu protected them so they would grow to become a big fish and later they saved earthly existence.” Kryp’s shrugged with embarrassment. When neither Sohm’lan nor Mestor replied his antennae ends uncurled.
“The Overlord would be pleased at your thoughtful naming and caregiving,” Sohm’lan finally said. “You have battled and shown wisdom during this sojourn.”
Kryp’s antennae straightened completely and he looked supremely pleased. “Caregivers are revered by the majority of us, though I do not know if being one to an offspring who is not Dire D’Noss counts.”
“I would think it would count more so. You must be slightly empathic to tend a species that is different from what you are familiar with. How many would think to sit in the water, so the youngling is comfortable?”
Kryp thought about that. “Maybe. Being in water seemed natural since Hina said the offspring—youngling—had never been on dry land. She has only been breathing air for a couple of hours.”
“How long have you been here?” Sohm’lan asked.
Matsya turned and looked at him, her eyes going wide, the head of a fish hanging out of her mouth. S
he wiggled excitedly and fell-dived off Kryp’s torso to swim to him. Sohm’lan shrugged off the robe and slid into the water in time to catch her. Her little claws gripped him as she climbed him to look him in the eye. He hiss-clicked and whistled at her, and she avidly watched his mouth trying to imitate him even though her mouth was full.
“Around midday,” Kryp replied. “It was a challenge feeding her underwater. Our young know to accept offerings from our mouth. She sucked on the end of one of my antennae!” He sounded scandalized.
Mestor barked out a laugh and could not seem to stop. Sohm’lan had a hard time not joining in.
“I was afraid to do anything after I felt the scrape of her teeth. It caused my eyes to twitch.” He pointed to his face, and sure enough, the skin around his large eyes spasmed. “All I have to do is think about it and this happens.”
Mestor laughed harder, losing his breath and coughing.
“It is amazing your caregivers allow a youngling near any part to nurse,” Kryp added, shooting Mestor confused looks.