by Lexi Ander
“Is that why you are here?” Valdor’s expression was bored, as if he did not care what the Numina were doing. “Looking for a way to keep Poseidon’s eye away from your atrocities? There is nothing Canry can do. He cannot manipulate time nor is he a Chtichlian or L’Eema, who can time travel. Taking him or Zeus will gain you nothing. Nethus will lose the challenge. Even now, thousands more Mar’Sani are becoming aware of the Numina’s existence. Your period of isolation is at an end. You are just acting out the death throes.”
Zeus wanted to smile as the people behind Bucca stepped back. The stink of fear floated on the wind.
“How naïve you are, venerated land-loving leader.” Bucca bared his sickly yellow teeth, and Zeus responded in kind. “Who we do not kill, we will chip. Then we will have them strike down any rumor of our existence. Problem solved.”
“You are going to push for a fight then?” Valdor asked, and Zeus heard the regret in his father’s tone.
“I have come to do a job. They want Canry back, and I will return him even if I have to kill that thing you call son.” Bucca motioned to Zeus.
“Very well.” Valdor turned, presenting his back to Bucca, wordlessly stating to any who watched that he considered Bucca incompetent and unworthy of his time. “Zeus, crush him.”
Bucca snarled and lunged for Valdor, a knife jutting from the armband of his armor. Zeus was ready for the attack, stepping smoothly between his father and the would-be assassin. The swipe of his obsidian sword pushed the jab wide. He stepped in close to the Numina and sent an uppercut into Bucca’s unprotected square jaw. His head snapped up, and Zeus’s kick to his stomach sent him staggering several steps back.
At Zeus’s back, Valdor’s impromptu cursing told him that Rhee had grabbed him and was rolling away. Canry’s startled yelp followed as the Monticore hefted Canry between them and retreated. Zeus felt incrementally better now that his father and brother were among the safety of their force. He did not care that he was the only one left to stand against seven Numina. He tested his shoulder, making sure the injections were doing their job. If he could incapacitate Bucca, then those who followed would most likely surrender.
A hand settled on his good shoulder and suddenly he remembered Rheax. He almost felt guilty for forgetting she was there. He had made no provisions to remove her from the fight, which was not like him. He could believe that growing into this second maturity had addled his mind.
“I could have retreated, Prince Zeus.” She gently squeezed. “I will not get in your way and your opponents will not find me unskilled in battle. Concentrate on the sea slug. I sense he does not fight fairly.”
“Foolish human space junk. You think you can stand against me and win?” Bucca bellowed.
Rage roared through Zeus, and he struggled to dampen the emotion.
Rheax firmed her grip on him. “Do not fight it. Channel your fury and force the power behind it to do your bidding.” Then the oddest thing happened. It was as if Rheax pointed to something within him.
Unwilling to be distracted, he ignored her prodding for the moment and carefully watched Bucca. He found it odd that this male, as well as some of the other Numina, used the same slurs for him as Timsah Gadrius. Monkey. Trash. Pretender. Useless. Imposter. All his life he had ignored the insults. Only a few houses sported members who vilified Zeus, believing he was human. After those houses were exiled to the Black Sands Desert, the talk about him ceased for a couple of summers. Those houses allied with Cordyl, Tutatara and Tigiere, were careful to ensure Zeus could not prove the incidents where they had disparaged him in such a way. He tried to keep the peace. His young, naïve belief was that over time he would show them he was more than his appearance. Not all humans were evil. He was not wicked. It did not matter that he came to this planet as a youngling of only two moons or that he never met a human. Everyone knew of the Terrens’ infamous hostile takeover of Aries 7 and their treatment of the GyrFalconi. They were reviled and despite everything, that hatred was transferred to him. It was short-sighted and unfair, but Zeus had worked diligently to prove he was not Terren in any way. But he not only fought the preconceptions of his people, he faced it from other species as well. The Qrxzl had attempted to kill him and now the Numina were proving just as uneducated and bigoted.
When the news came that he was not a Terren but born of a Fal’Amoric bloodline, he no longer heard the slurs… until the Numina invaded. The people the Galactic Investigators had arrested belonged to the same three houses that held him in such contempt, and the troublemakers were removed. That was one of many changes but along with it came a type of peace and acceptance Zeus had never experienced. People cheered for him. Called him Atlainticia’s hero. People wanted to meet him, have vids taken with him. These last moons he had learned what it was like to not worry about dodging vitriol and discrimination. The experience freed him in so many wonderful ways. Now this hagfish had crawled out of the Waters of Poseidon, spewing his hatred, and for the first time Zeus was enraged on his own behalf. Logic said the Numina’s opinion mattered not, but there was something within him that writhed and scratched, demanding to be let out.
“Yes,” Rheax coaxed. “Put that energy there.”
He paced back and forth, keeping Bucca from circling him and placing him in the middle of Bucca and his warriors. The other Numina smelled of fear and looked reticent, but he was not willing to bet that Alpha was swaying them to step away from the fight.
Zeus did not know how she did it since she was no longer touching him, but Rheax touched a place low in his belly. Something rested there, quiet, dormant. He had never noticed it before. Brushing his mind against the area gave him a cramp, but he breathed slowly through it, giving no indication of his internal struggle and discovery. Now was not the time for this, but Rheax mentally pressed him on, encouraging him. The Numina spread out. Bucca had not called for an attack and Zeus suspected the skink had something planned. He probably thought he only needed to subdue Zeus and drag him out to sea.
Bucca reached over his shoulder and pulled a heavy, red steel blade free from the sheath, wider than Zeus’s swords and three times as long. “I was hoping I would face the famous Striker and test his mettle. Oh, how the line of Pegasus has fallen if his descendants give a human this much power.”
“I am Mar’Sani,” Zeus said between clenched teeth, then hiss-clicked a challenge as he pulled his second sword, balancing on the balls of his feet.
Bucca paced just out of easy reach, stretching and posturing, something young new to the fighting ring did to psych themselves up to attack their opponent. He laughed at Zeus’s statement, his eyes cold black pools that promised death. “I see no sharkskin, no scales. Being raised by these land dwellers does not make you a youngling of Poseidon.”
In his mind, Rheax snorted with deep derision. “There, Zeus, press there,” she coaxed.
“Where is your tail, impostor?” Bucca jeered, running a hand over his large square jaw. “We Numina share some characteristics with the seed of Pegasus and his followers. But you—”
Zeus used his rage to press against the ache, the pain in his gut intensified and lightning traveled from cloud to cloud, the thunder deafening, drowning out Bucca’s taunt.
“Keep going, you are almost through,” she encouraged.
“You have hair instead of barbs,” Bucca prodded when the noise abated, unaware of Rheax’s guidance. What she was leading him to, Zeus did not know but he trusted that this was important.
A wave of pain gripped his stomach. If he had not been standing before an enemy, he would have sat on the ground. He tried not to pant, the pain grew hot enough he thought his intestines would scorch. His façade crumpled, and he hung his head trying to keep from screaming from the agony. Bucca grinned, obviously assuming his words were getting to Zeus and undermining his confidence. Fool.
“Use all the energy that has been building and break into your core.” Rheax moved behind Zeus and grasped his waist, giving him a safety net if he neede
d it. Then her consciousness flowed into him, guiding him with an ethereal hand.
All the while, Zeus watched Bucca through his lashes, keeping up the charade of shame. Bucca was not as unafraid of the possible consequences as he claimed. He worked himself into a frenzy, not realizing that his companions had backed farther way. “What kind of Mar’Sani is tailless? You are weak without a fifth limb.”
Zeus used the energy like a knife and sliced through the aching ball and released a writhing mass that reminded him of a nest of snakes.
“Now guide it,” Rheax pressed, urgency in her tone. She knew as well as Zeus that Bucca would attack at any moment.
“I do not understand.”
“What are you, Zeus?” she pressed.
“I…” He did not know how to answer, his mind was a confused jumble. A sort of euphoria made him feel lightheaded.
“You have known all your life who you are. But what are you?”
Bucca stopped and swung his blade a couple of times, his continuing bluster was boring but coming to an end. “Just because you swim in the Waters of Poseidon does not make you his young. He took pity on you and only he knows why.”
Suddenly, Rheax’s anger was as hot as Zeus’s. “Who swims in these Waters?”
“Mar’Sani,” Zeus replied aloud.
Bucca stopped pacing, looking confused. “You can never be Mar’Sani. You are a novelty. A Terren able to swim in the Waters that no other outsider can tolerate. But if you come quietly and without a fuss, instead of locking you in a cage for people to gawk at I will show you what it truly means to be a youngling of Poseidon.”
“What are you, Zeus. Who are your people?” Rheax whispered.
“I am Mar’Sani,” he hiss-clicked, feeling the truth with every fiber of his being.
Inside, she plunged his metaphorical hands into the ball of snakes, and they burrowed into his flesh, sinking into him, changing him in a wave of electricity that was mirrored in the clouds above. Lightning struck the water, the beach, fiery fingers of electricity walked the ground to Zeus. Bucca and the Numina cowered and hurried out of the way, stumbling, their cries of terror lost in the rumbling thunder that shook the ground.
“That is it, son. Accept it. Take it into yourself.” Rheax removed Alpha from his neck and dashed away right before a bolt of lightning touched Zeus.
He screamed until his throat gave out. The energy tore him apart and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His uniform burned to ash in the blink of an eye. His bones melted. His muscles contorted. His skin and hair sluffed off. There would be nothing left of him for his amors to bury.
“What are you?” Rheax shouted the question over and over.
He wanted her to stop, for the pain to go away. “I am Mar’Sani!” he bellowed.
“Then show them!”
His body felt as if it was turning inside-out. He was Mar’Sani. Vondorian. Son of Ashari and Valdor. Brother to Shaneva, Canry, Azaes, and Mestor. He had known what he was the moment he heard Sohm’lan’s voice. This was his home. These were his people.
The lightning retracted into the clouds, leaving him panting on wobbly legs that grew stronger by the second. He was not blinded as he should have been, and he stared at his hands. His breath caught at the sight of gleaming black scales and his fingertips ending with sharp claws. He looked down his body, his clothing was gone but he did not care. He was covered head to toe in scales the same color as his father’s. His balance was different, and he smacked the ground with… he had a tail! Zeus glanced behind him to see his new appendage swaying back and forth, the motion betraying his excitement. He had a white ridge. Did that mean anything? He honestly did not care. His body had morphed into what he had always sensed was on the inside.
Zeus spun, using his tail to propel himself upward. Ariafella and Rathmar stood only a couple of arm-lengths away from the circle of scorched earth. They looked shell-shocked but soon their expressions turned to happiness and awe. At the top of the slope, Mar’Sani were cheering and chanting. Canry stood next to their father, and both smiled down at him. Then his brother sang a Siren’s Song, the wind whipping around him and carrying his melody down the incline. A song of rejoicing, of victory. A short distance from them stood Rheax holding Alpha in the palms of her hands. She was crying but when she smiled at him, her expression turned poignant but triumphant.
“What in creation are you?” Bucca snarled.
He spun and grabbed his swords from the ground. Bucca was on his hands and knees, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. The other Numina with him stared at Zeus in awe.
“He already told you, you vapid bloat fish,” Rathmar sneered. “He is Mar’Sani.”
“I have never heard so much bullying and blustering in all my days,” Ariafella commented.
“This is impossible!” Bucca yelled. Some of his companions retreated, running back to the beach and glancing over their shoulders in abject terror.
Zeus swished his tail. Stars above! He had a tail! Wait! Did he…? Concentrating, he flexed his back and barbs snapped out of his ridge as if he had been doing it all his life.
“You are human,” Bucca snarled as he scrambled across the ground to his dropped sword.
He’d had enough of the heckling Numina and switched into a fighting stance. Ariafella and Rathmar mirrored him as if choreographed.
“I am Warlord Striker,” he announced, enjoying the sudden spike of fear scent coming from Bucca.
Then he leaped into the air, his tail boosting him up and forward. Bucca’s soulless eyes narrowed, and he brought his blade up. The ring of obsidian clashing against red steel was greeted by a roar from the Mar’Sani.
Chapter Forty-Six
Sohm’lan
* * *
Sohm’lan tried not to think about leaving the palace while it was under attack. The timing was no coincidence. A tactical ploy to make him run to defend when he should be on his way to the gyre circle. As if sensing his thoughts, Ashari took his hand, her gaze solemn and brimming with concern. Tori leaned into his other side, giving what comfort he could.
As he had taught Zeus and the twins, Sohm’lan sought his center where there was only calm. He would need that balance but the vibrating tug leading to the gyre circle added a sense of urgency that he could not ignore.
A fleet of airships were ahead of them, flying low over the water. Why had the circle called so many witnesses to this challenge? Was this normal? Since a challenge had not been made in generations, there was no one to ask other than his father, and his memories of those days were hazy at best, so many details lost to time.
The ship halted over the coordinates Sohm’lan had given the pilot. The side doors opened. The sight of the other airships hovering above the rippling waves was spectacular, definitely not a sight one would see every day.
Monticore leaped first, securing the perimeter before others followed. His father took his mer-shape. Then the Ancients went next, each changing into their water forms. Wanderer went first, their body unfolding multiple times, letting out the massive kraken before they touched water. Light Bringer’s shape resembled a sea lion, if not for the gills along the sides and longer appendages. Whirlwind’s jelly fish form was clear white with highlights of pulsing blue and pink.
“Show off,” Pegasus murmured with a smile before his feathers flattened into hard, boney plates of a seahorse as he hit the water.
Arion heaved a put-upon sigh and dived, his blue mane whipping in the brisk breeze. Ashari’s and then Valdor’s family jumped, leaving Sohm’lan with Ambassador Tymon, Ashari, and Tori. From the airships around them, Mar’Sani continued to dive.
Sohm’lan checked his weapons, ensuring they were secure and that he would not lose them when he plunged into the depths. Tori handed him his father’s trident. Mentally, he ran through maneuvers, tactics, and how to incorporate his quickening.
Below, Captain Kaduna and Captain Laras signaled. Ashari dived with Ambassador Tymon.
Sohm’lan soaked up
Tori’s adoring expression. He saw faith, pride, confidence and love. His amor was a rock-solid presence that Sohm’lan would never give up.
He pressed his forehead against Tori’s, inhaling his scent. “I love you, my amor. Thank you for choosing me and having patience. All I will ever need is you, Tori.”
Tori’s expression brightened with his wide, sharp-toothed smile that made his sunrise-yellow eyes sparkle. “Hurry up,” he rasped. “Hand Nethus his tail and make him choke on it. Then we can spend the rest of the day on our sleeping platform.”
“As you wish, my prince.”
Together they dove into the Waters of Poseidon and were immediately surrounded by Monticore. Sohm’lan’s father and the Ancients led the way to the gyre circle. Ashari and the ambassador remained nearby. The modest silver circlet she wore glowed as the waters darkened. Then as if they passed an invisible veil, the ocean floor illuminated. Below them appeared a series of huge stone circles that looked several times larger than the arena had been mere days ago. The outer ring of columns pulsed with a radiance, giving much-needed light in the dark waters. Glyphs in various colors were carved into the stones, and even from a distance, they were plainly visible. The immense inner ring of megaliths with the turquoise gel surrounding their bases still reminded Sohm’lan of the obelisk in the Qrxzl’s Pool of Truth.
Farther away, the lights of the outcast citiplex revealed domed buildings and sharp spires. Ashari’s mouth was flat as she took in the dwellings that were very different than the citiplexes of the People of the Longing.
::They are outcasts like me:: Echo explained to her, pointing to the beings coming from the citiplex.
Sohm’lan glanced to where the pods of Mar’Sani floated. Davina had arranged for the groups to have a military escort as well as at least one person who had quickened and had learned telepathy.
::This is the host citiplex and their elite members will assist the arriving witnesses to their seats and explain the rules:: Echo continued.