Constant

by Lexi Ander

  Sohm’lan remained utterly still. Why would his parents concern themselves over a possible galactic traitor or faction, unless they held secrets of their own that would benefit such a traitor? Sure, bards could be close confidants to people of power, but those patrons would see to their own security or they would not stay in power for long. So why the extra precaution?

  Since Shaneva had opened his eyes to what hid in the Waters, he saw conspiracies everywhere.

  “This scrambler,” his father continued, “has been beneficial since I am translating several ancient tomes for Emperor Valdor.”

  Instead of easing Sohm’lan’s suspicions, the news only increased his disquiet. What information could ancient documents have that needed protection? He glanced at the closed balcony doors. Were Mar’Sani the only suspects in this possible conspiracy? Or like with geas chips, did the Numina have ways of eavesdropping that he was unaware of?

  His parents were trusted confidants of Emperor Valdor and Empress Ashari, close enough that the royal family usually did not avoid speaking about state secrets in front of his parents. Despite that trust, Sohm’lan needed to decide if he could speak to them candidly, and now, his imagination was running wild. Did the Numina have spies, people close to the crown so they could keep a finger on what knowledge the Mar’Sani had? Was his father one of them? The secrets Shaneva entrusted to him could do great harm in the wrong hands. Sohm’lan’s heart ached. If his father was one of them, he would have to arrest him—possibly his mem, too. But he would put aside his relationship with them to do what was best for the Mar’Sani people.

  He stood, needing to meet this possible threat on his feet. His silence did not unnerve his parents. Echo waited on the edge of his seat, his tail thumping the backrest.

  He chose his words carefully. “Tell me, Father, why do I glow?”

  Echo bellowed like a bull announcing the birth of a youngling. Sohm’lan took an instinctive step back at the loud noise. He thought he was ready for an attack, but when his father rushed him, he could only watch like a youngling meeting his first confrontation. Echo barreled into him, planted his shoulder in Sohm’lan’s gut, and picked him up. Still blowing and bellowing, Echo tromped around the receiving room holding Sohm’lan aloft. Never had he seen his father act so… so… overjoyed.

  The guards rushed in with their weapons drawn. Embarrassed, Sohm’lan quickly reassured the Basilisc. His father carrying him around the receiving room like a maddened beast was a celebration. Mem ushered the smirking guards out the door, but it was still several minutes before his father deigned to put him back on his feet.

  Sohm’lan’s patience was expended. “Father! Explain yourself.” Did his father anticipate that Sohm’lan would side with the Numina now that he had quickened?

  Echo grabbed Lilika, dancing her around the room as if they were attending a grand ball. His mem laughed, just a joyous as his father. What were they celebrating? His parents stopped in the middle of the room, clutching each other as they gasped for air. “You do not know how long I have waited.” His father beamed. “How desperately I wanted to tell you everything about your heritage. But even I would have been reprimanded, though I am officially cast out and land-bound.”

  Cast out? “What are you talking about?” Hope bloomed that he was wrong. Well, mostly wrong, Sohm’lan thought.

  “You hide your energy well.” His father sobered. “Which means someone else knows and taught you how to camouflage the fact that you have quickened. My son, I have so much to tell you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Sohm’lan

  * * *

  Land-bound? Worry curdled in Sohm’lan’s stomach every time his father turned that excited smile his way. Were his parents in danger?

  He looked to his ever-sensible mem for answers. “Mem, do you understand what he is saying?”

  Lilika rested in Echo’s arms, her amber eyes clearly revealing her love for him. “Yes, my darling. Have patience with him. Your father will tell you everything.” She tipped her chin up, and Echo pressed his forehead against hers. “It is time. Show him. I will retrieve your case.”

  Before Sohm’lan could demand she stay and explain, his mem slipped out the door.

  His father crossed to him, arms opened wide as if corralling Sohm’lan instead of expecting an embrace. “Lilika is correct, as always. I need to show you before I attempt an explanation, some of which I think you already know.”

  Sohm’lan allowed his father to grasp his wrist and tug him through the room to the poolroom. He crossed his arms, scowling his annoyance as his father quickly shed his clothes like an excited youngling of five summers, ready to frolic in the Waters of Poseidon. In a perfect and beautiful arc, Echo dove into the aqua depths… and did not surface. Instead, he swam on his back to the ledge where Sohm’lan stood and peered up through the water.

  Sohm’lan was ready to demand his father quit playing around when he glanced down his father’s body, and the world tilted on its axis. He dropped to his knees unable to take his eyes away from the sight before him.

  Echo’s unique blue scales seemed oddly vibrant, almost iridescent. Unless he was swimming, the spiny fins on the back of his forearms lay flat against his scales, keeping them from snagging on things. What his father did not normally have were gills on the column of his neck and the lower body that only People of the Longing had. His form had changed, his legs joining into a seamless mer-tail. Dar Massaga could shift their shape by repositioning their bones, but this… no Mar’Sani could change the body they were born with so drastically. People of the Longing took summers to grow into their final shape. And yet….

  Sohm’lan blinked, having trouble believing what he was seeing. Since Shaneva had taken him to see what happened to people who broke the rules of the mysterious Numina, he had thought over everything he had witnessed. Unlike Mar’Sani, who shared commonalities such as being bipeds with tails, no two of the beings he had met in Valespia’s waters looked the same. Nethus and Arion were siblings but dissimilar in every way. Elder Lelex and people living in the citiplex Epoptis were just as varied. They had fins with the different colors of deadly fish and the lower bodies of sea mammals. Some had tentacles on their heads or in the place of limbs. Others had smooth, tough hides much like sharks or whales. There were so many variations Sohm’lan wondered if they were a combination of different species living in one society even though it had been explained they were outcast Numina.

  In contrast, the People of the Longing, whose legs fused as they aged and developed into fins, all still shared the commonality of shape, even though no two persons developed the same way. It was a process that could not be undone without extreme surgical intervention. The People of the Longing could never revert back to a biped form. They were bound to the sea for the rest of their lives. And yet, there his father floated as if he were born to be one of the People of the Longing.

  Numbly, Sohm’lan disrobed, needing to be closer so he could touch and reassure himself that his eyes were not deceiving him. Slipping into the warm water, he paused for a second, shoring up his courage before submerging completely and coming eye to eye with his father. Why did he have external gills? Mar’Sani were born with gills in the back of their mouths, where the water was drawn in and then expelled through the slits along their spinal ridges.

  Echo clasped Sohm’lan’s hand and guided it to his pelvic fins. A tickle reminiscent to a knock caused him to open his mind. “You have my permission to touch.”

  His gaze snapped up to his father’s. When had his father become telepathic?

  “Now that you have quickened, your abilities will awaken. I am guessing you are aware you can communicate with me using your mind. I can teach you telepathic etiquette. Someone has already shown you how to shield your thoughts. Was it Prince Canry who gave you instruction? Valdor mentioned he has returned to the family. He is the only one I know of that is not chipped.” Echo touched a space behind his earhole, a slight grimace as if remembering pai
n.

  He was not yet ready to tell his father about Shaneva, so he remained silent. Echo did not seem bothered by his reluctance.

  “Some Mar’Sani do not… will not mature, ah, quicken, just as many Numina cannot change their shape. You have finally matured, and as my son, I will teach you everything the others have chosen to forget.” Echo beamed with a mischievous pride, as if he held the answer to a great secret.

  Sohm’lan sputtered as he fought indignation. Matured? He was approaching his seventy-sixth summer and had not been a bumbling youngling for a long time. He rubbed his forehead, sensing an oncoming headache. What did his father mean his abilities would awaken? Mestor had also quickened. Was there a significance to the timing?

  A figure moved at the edge of the pool and Sohm’lan looked to see his mem kneeling. She stuck her hand in the water, holding out a large conch shell. Echo accepted the offering, staring at her for a long, drawn-out moment. He experienced the same light buzz as when Zeus spoke with his mates, and he could only guess they were speaking telepathically. The thought made him squint at his mem. Did that mean she had quickened as well?

  While on Valespia, the veil had been ripped away to reveal there was a people hidden in the deepest part of the ocean, manipulating and controlling anyone who had knowledge of them. But realizing that the shroud dividing him from the Numina was so much closer, dividing his family was… he could not describe what he felt. The mix of extreme emotions was hard to identify when they blended so seamlessly together. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, else he would do something extremely rash.

  “Come with me, son. Your mem says she will wait here.” There was sympathy and a hint of guilt in his father’s eyes.

  Echo snagged his wrist, swimming toward the bottom of the pool. He placed the small spiral tip of the shell to his mouth, as if he would blow air into it like a trumpet… which was ridiculous. They were underwater. Startlingly, a tune came from the conch and Sohm’lan quit kicking his feet, not that his lack of movement slowed his father. Echo pulled Sohm’lan along, blowing notes from the conch that were so ethereally poignant and sweet, Sohm’lan’s heart lightened. Suddenly realizing they were going to collide with the bottom of the pool, he jerked at his father’s hold. Astonishingly, the area shimmered, turning hazy as if the stone were translucent… right before they passed through. Sohm’lan squeezed his eyes shut, afraid to breathe. He waited for the inevitable impact, but abruptly he surfaced, the cool air brushing against his scales. His father released his wrist, gliding away. The scent of deep, cold waters filled Sohm’lan’s nostrils.

  Releasing his pent-up breath, he gasped, glancing around. A noise of surprise caught in his throat as he stared up at the arched ceiling of beveled glass. Beyond lay a darkness he had only seen when in deep waters. He certainly was not in his poolroom any longer. He was not even floating in Atlainticia’s Waters. The Waters of Poseidon felt… he would know it anywhere and this water was not it.

  “Welcome to my home… well, one of my homes. This one is on Valespia.” Echo swam to a set of stairs carved into the surrounding stone.

  Sohm’lan treaded water, his gaze caught on the glass dome overhead. The beveled panes were bound together by aged, bronze-colored metal. The view was spectacular, taking his breath away. On the other side, sea creatures gracefully swam by. In the distance, he saw the lights of a citiplex.

  The poolroom was paved with turquoise-colored stones, no two the same hue. The water smelled heavier and saltier. There were benches near the walls next to hooks where people could hang their clothing as well as shelving containing towels. Unlike Mestor’s poolroom, there was no place to lounge so he surmised that this was an exit or entrance only, not a receiving room. When Sohm’lan glanced down he could make out where the tiles ended. The open ocean beckoned through an oval in the floor. If he swam down and under, he bet he would be outside the dwelling.

  When his feet touched the bottom, he waded to the steps where his father waited, holding a shimmering green robe. The conch shell swung from a tether on his father’s belt. He was having a hard time believing what had just happened. His father had used the conch to usher them from one water to another. Or so he thought. After witnessing what Canry could do, he should not have been surprised.

  “I am not like our young prince.” His father touched the conch dangling at his waist. “The shell is unique, a one-of-a-kind relic from the Arthro War. It is said that, at one time, the making of such fantastic items was a technique of the Ryo’Pardeep—the Ancients—and everyone carried such a device. But the V’Saar came and the Ryo’Pardeep fought alongside the Alpha-Zetamites. Many races and species were lost during those long, tumultuous years. Those who survived, like Poseidon, eventually scattered among the stars. Their crafting was lost or forgotten in their grief.” Echo handed Sohm’lan a luxurious towel. “This conch was gifted to me by my father. I can only move a handful of people from one destination to another. I was told that at one time the power of the shell was not so limited, but I guess my willpower or my core of…” He shrugged as if at a loss for words.

  “Energy,” Sohm’lan supplied, drying off. He, too, had struggled to label what he felt consuming him when his scales burned with light.

  “Father always called it quickening. Your body is… It is much like a young bull’s sex dropping unbidden during puberty. This is your second puberty, of a sort.” Echo laughed when Sohm’lan made a sour face.

  This was not the first time his father had mentioned puberty. Sohm’lan was not fond of those few interminable summers. He was not an adolescent.

  Echo stifled his laughter. “Come now, it will not be dreadful. You only need to learn self-discipline, which you have never lacked.”

  “Where are we?” Sohm’lan asked, changing the subject. He was not ready to talk about himself when there was so much he had yet to learn.

  He crushed the robe in his fist, nervousness causing his stomach to cramp. He had not felt this anxious since participating in the trials to become a warlord to the emperor. His father had this whole other self that he had not been aware of, and Sohm’lan struggled to accept this new side to the bull who had raised him. “I was unaware that Valespia’s ocean was home to Mar’Sani.” Did the Numina consider the outcasts as Numina?

  “There are others like me, exiled from the deep Waters of Poseidon for various reasons. Many cannot change their shape as I am able to, which allows me to live on land. Those locked into one shape settle in other locations not populated by Numina, and they sometimes get permission to live on other planets. A long time back, the Council of Neighn permitted a citiplex to be built here on Valespia. The people use intermediaries to interact with the citizens of Haven. The outcasts do not cause trouble and are ignored. Epoptis can be better seen from the north-facing windows. Your mem and I come here for the solitude, especially after several busy days entertaining.”

  “Why are we here?” Again, suspicions rose unbidden.

  “The Numina do not come here unless they absolutely have to. They may not like my stance on their core values, but they would not dare eavesdrop on me here.” His father just confirmed one of his suspicions.

  “Who are you?” He was afraid of the answer, holding onto the hope that any new information would not change the bull he knew, and that Echo would still be the father who taught him the ethics and values he held dear. He no longer suspected his father was a spy, but it was painfully obvious that he was not Mar’Sani. He also reminded himself that whatever changes his father revealed, they would not alter who Sohm’lan was. If Echo was Numina, it did not make Sohm’lan any less Mar’Sani.

  He suddenly wished for his uniform, a physical reminder of who he was and what he stood for. He was the Chief Warlord, Protector of the People, waterfather and friend to the royal family. The core of who he was, his values, his honor, his personality remained the same. By quickening, he was gaining something new, whether a tool or weapon had yet to be decided. As simple as learning a new for
m of martial arts, these abilities his father was sure he would acquire were something he could control, to make use of to become a better warrior and protector.

  Echo’s expression turned grim, as if he sensed Sohm’lan’s firming resolve. Seeming to come to a decision, his shoulders straightened. “I am of the first generation of Poseidon’s offspring born after the Arthro War. Since my siblings and I chose to live in Atlainticia’s waters instead of roaming the galaxy, we do not call ourselves Ryo’Pardeep, but Numina. Triton was my given name, until my exile. I have not been allowed to use it since. My brothers and sisters turned their backs on me when I dared to fall in love with a land dweller.” His father’s expression softened when Sohm’lan murmured his mem’s name. “Yes, I met Lilika when she was pregnant with the triplets.” His gaze took on a faraway look as if remembering, his smile full of adoration. He motioned to Sohm’lan. “Come and follow me.”

  Sensing it would take time to have his questions answered, Sohm’lan trailed after his father. The beauty of his surroundings was not lost on him. Like Mar’Sani architecture, there were no hard angles, only soft curves. Everything was stone which, considering they were on the seafloor, made sense. Wood would rot, even if the furniture was meticulously treated and cared for. The colors were varied and bright, much like a coral reef. Instead of paintings or tapestries, the stones were either carved or mosaics adorned the walls and floors. Everything Sohm’lan laid eyes on was quite stunning, speaking to an opulence and wealth he had not known his parents possessed.