by Lexi Ander
Poseidon crawled onto the sleeping platform and his form reverted to the shape that reminded Mestor of Alpha. Poseidon glowed from within, his pink veins turning a brilliant red. He resembled a nebula that an astronomer had colorized. It was both fascinating and terrifying.
Mestor did not know how long he watched. After a while, he ushered Kryp and Matsya into the main room, but he was afraid to accompany them in case he was needed. He tried to see how Poseidon activated the healing, but he was unsure what he should be looking for.
When Poseidon finished, he returned to a biped form. Arion and Echo rushed to help him, and Mestor replaced Poseidon on the sleeping platform. The places where some of the scales had sluffed off but had not been replaced during the initial saliva healing were now pristine and unblemished. He barely registered that everyone had left and Kryp had closed the door, taking a nearby chair.
The barbs that had been broken were now whole, though smaller. Mestor would have to keep an eye on them to see if they grew back to their original size. The best thing was that Sohm’lan’s breathing was no longer labored. Dr. Solon would want to do scans to make sure the damage caused by the ink was gone, but he could do that later. Mestor needed time with his amor. He had been so controlled, reining in the raging bull that wanted to lash out.
Sohm’lan opened his blue eyes and smiled. Mestor’s eyes pricked, overwhelming gratitude swelling so quickly he choked. He pressed his forehead to Sohm’lan’s, singing a song of greeting and love. How he adored this stubborn, willful bull. He only needed to raise a hand and Kryp joined them, placing Matsya on Sohm’lan before cuddling against Sohm’lan’s back.
Matsya hissed and chirped, saying, “Lanlan!” between her squeaky, musical sounds.
Now that Sohm’lan was awake, Mestor could admit, if only to himself, to being terrified. He had shoved it deep down so he could function, but it was still there, haunting him every moment that Sohm’lan was unconscious.
Unease skittered through him. Until weeks ago, the Mar’Sani, as well as the other species of the Valespian Pact, believed the Ancients were gone. Then on the planet of Qestaire, Alpha revealed eons of history about the Alpha-Zetamites, and their son, Star Eater, had come to their aid, proving that what the galaxy believed was incorrect. Now… now, Poseidon walked the halls of the palace. An Ancient, a Ryo’Pardeep, who had young who were as long-lived as he was, and a few, it seemed, lived among the Mar’Sani. Light Bringer. Whirlwind. Pegasus. What other revelations were left to be uncovered? Would his people handle the shocks? He vowed he would do anything and everything to protect his amor and his family. They would survive the changes to come.
The last few moons, they had been concentrating on the Numina threat to Atlainticia, and even though that threat was being neutralized, they still had strife waiting on their doorstep. The time was drawing near for the Galactic Imperials to hand over their responsibilities to the Galactic Crown Princes. Atlainticia needed to fulfill the vow Zeus gave the Galactic Imperials: to help them find the Bespoken.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Sohm’lan
* * *
Sohm’lan did not want to return to the gyre circle, ever, but Poseidon was announcing the first part of the repercussions given to Nethus and his presence was required. Shaneva wrapped an arm tightly around him and watched the arena floor with growing expectation.
Valdor and Ashari silently joined them. Ashari’s expression was particularly grim but softened when she saw her daughter. Shaneva had yet to talk to her parents about that fateful day when she was fifteen, caught returning home to tell her parents that she knew where Canry was. The summers that followed held other tribulations that he could only guess at.
They had reassured Shaneva they would not push, and if she never told them, they would respect her by not asking. Sohm’lan hoped that she had someone she could confide in. He glanced at her layered necklaces of delicate seashells interspersed with shapes carved into flint. She also wore bangles of brightly-colored beads. Every time he saw her, she had added a new piece of jewelry to the ensemble. By this display of gifts, she was being courted by a hopeful suitor who wanted to become her amor. If that person was her confidant, then Sohm’lan would make them welcome, whoever they might be.
Poseidon paced the arena floor, large and imposing, his size growing with each passing second. Sohm’lan opened his shields so he could hear telepathic conversation. The Numina murmured amongst themselves, the odor of dread and sick anticipation floating on the sea currents.
“People of the Waters,” Poseidon began, the gyre circle making his mental voice boom. “By now, you have received at least one summons, and have heard my proclamations. I queried my Waters and they have revealed all to me. I know what has been done and by whom. With each name and deed, my displeasure has increased. In the coming days, there will be many changes.”
Poseidon waved his arm, and Zeus swam to his side. He did not wear his scales, but his soft skin and he slithered through the water with the ease of an eel. He wore a chest harness over a specially designed watersuit, the hilts of two red steel blades protruding over each shoulder. He looked absolutely tiny floating next to Poseidon.
“By now, you have heard of Prince Zeus Vondorian, youngest son of Empress Ashari and Emperor Valdor, second in line to the Fal’Amoric throne.”
Sohm’lan rubbed his earhole at the mental gasps. Prince Zeus volunteering to help Poseidon integrate the Mar’Sani and Numina was the best choice. The Mar’Sani considered him a planetary hero, and from what Sohm’lan had heard, a growing portion of the Numina population were either terrified of him or admired him. Those who were present when he challenged their leader, Bucca, spread the news to all who would listen, and Zeus’s popularity had grown. An unprecedented number of Numina sent petitions requesting an audience with the prince who could teach them how to be soft-skinned. They were under the false impression that all Mar’Sani had two forms. Wanderer had stepped in and offered to help them, warning that not everyone would have the ability and while some would learn with ease, others would need training.
Now with Zeus at Poseidon’s side, Sohm’lan suspected his fame among the People of the Waters would spread like currents pulled along by a hurricane. Whether that fame would endanger the youngest prince was yet to be determined.
“Prince Zeus has offered his assistance with the changes to come. And they will come. The laws will be reviewed and those who uphold bigotry and segregation and speciesism will be struck down. Those who do not like the changes are free to leave the Waters.”
Shocked gasps rippled through the arena.
“It is unfortunate that the Mar’Sani had to use the gyre circle to bring to light the injustice taking place on Atlainticia. Warlord Sohm’lan Myrmidon, son of Triton and Lilika Myrmidon, Chief Warlord to Emperor Valdor Vondorian, bore the burden despite the personal cost to him. The gyre circle agreed to allow Empress Ashari to name the reparations, and Nethus Qalupalik is bound by the circle rules to fulfill them.”
Two mer-tailed Numina brought Nethus into the arena, dragging his limp body by the chains attached to his wrists. Behind them followed a procession of other individuals in the same state as Nethus. At intervals across the arena floor stood pairs of pillars. There were too many for Sohm’lan to count easily. People gasped and pointed fingers at individuals as they were brought into the arena.
“Those joining him are people who ordered or participated in descaling, debarbing, or whatever other torture they devised before their victim was hung in the wild deeps. These people will be chained to the pillars the same length of time as their victims were. For those whose victims passed into the fade, they will be exiled from my Waters, never to swim in or call them home again.”
The murmurs grew louder but everyone quieted again when Prince Zeus moved forward to speak. “This is a decision Poseidon did not make lightly. The Numina are his young, just as the Mar’Sani are, and he loves everyone, even those who are being exiled. We are one people, Atla
inticians, and it is long past time we acted as such. In the coming weeks, there will be tours of the land arranged for the Numina, and there will be tours of the depths for Mar’Sani. We do not want to force the people together, but it is time we learned about each other. I have received requests from people who want to move closer to the shore, queries about space programs, and attending the Military Academy. I will be answering all these questions once I have selected a board of directors, half of which will be Numina.
“This is the last time this sentence will be meted out. After this week, one of the first things Poseidon and I will do is remove this punishment from the laws.”
“The next time a trespass is severe enough to warrant a harsh punishment,” Poseidon said angrily. “I will simply exile the person.” His tentacles snapped out then curled a few times before he continued. “I will set guards around the gyre circle who will ensure no one is freed before their time. If anyone wishes to act as advocates for those paying penance, you may do so without fearing repercussions. Perhaps such acts of kindness will remind your brethren what empathy is as they watch you defend them from the predatory sea life looking for easy prey.”
After that, Poseidon’s audience came to a close, and Sohm’lan was glad when they left the arena and its macabre view. Ashari took Shaneva’s arm, not letting her disappear in the Waters and insisting she spend time at home with the family. Over the last few days, Ashari and Valdor’s extended family had jumped in and helped where needed. The palace was continually a bustle of activity at all hours of the day and night, which made getting time alone with Tori harder than usual.
Once they landed, Sohm’lan excused himself and went hunting for his amor. A couple of quick questions later, he found Tori in the grand ballroom tangled in unraveled spools of colorful runners. Ariafella was laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. Tori’s tail had somehow become trapped against one leg by the wide twine. He was holding a spool over his head and shaking that leg, all the while cussing quite inventively.
Sohm’lan crouched, raised his tail for balance, and judged the distance between him and his amor. He hopped one, two, and three steps then pounced. Ariafella squeaked right before Tori toppled into the mound of diaphanous cloth. Tori hiss-clicked but pheromones quickly filled the air as he put up a token struggle against Sohm’lan’s hold.
“My amor, what are you doing?” Sohm’lan rolled Tori onto his back to see the sunrise-yellow eyes he could read so easily.
“I was helping Ariafella sort the streamers for the commitment ceremony. But it was like trying to separate mating snakes,” Tori groused.
Sohm’lan chuckled. “I saw.”
He rubbed his cheek against Tori’s, enjoying the scrape of scales.
“Ugh, you two are the worst,” Ariafella said, hand covering her mouth, dampening the cackling as she dumped knotted streamers on top of them.
“Go complain to my brother,” Tori called even as he rubbed his hands over Sohm’lan’s bare chest. He had not stopped to don his uniform before he hunted his amor down.
“Complained to me about what? Is that Sohm’lan’s tail sticking out of a pile of… what is that?”
He waved his appendage at Azaes. Tori snickered and rolled them again. He suspected they were getting more tangled in the runners—streamers… whatever. He hissed, loving the sound of Tori’s scales sliding against his.
Azaes sputtered. “Mestor! What have you done to Sohm’lan? He is acting as if… as if…”
“As if he is in love,” Ariafella answered, her voice warm and approving.
“We are going to be late,” Tori urged, even though he was on the comm-link speaking with someone. He heard Kryp’s name mentioned several times and Tori’s sternness, implying someone was attempting to get him to change his mind about something.
Sohm’lan adjusted the sleeves and laces of the V-neck shirt he wore so others could see how his brown scales gleamed from Tori’s care. “I am almost done,” he called back, glancing at the sleeping platform where they had spent an undisturbed afternoon.
Pieces of colorful, oiled streamers littered the silken sheets. He sniffed himself. He had washed, but he was afraid that Tori’s scent on his scales was not strong enough. He grabbed a couple pieces of the streamer and rubbed them against his neck and chest.
“What are you doing?” Tori leaned against the door frame, his gaze slowly raking over Sohm’lan.
“Making sure your scent is on me.” He gulped at the heat entering Tori’s eyes. How did he get so lucky to have an amor who desired him so thoroughly?
“Oh, I spent the last hours covering you in my scent, everyone will know you are well loved.” Tori pushed off the frame. “As much as I would love to drag you back to the platform for the rest of the day, we have a few obligations to attend to.”
Sohm’lan dropped the pieces of streamer onto his pillows and followed Tori out of the suite. They were not going far, only to the grand family room, but Basilisc guards escorted them around the corner.
The room was bustling. More of Tori’s cousins and extended family had arrived for the commitment ceremony that was right around the corner. Zeus’s diverse household stood out among Mar’Sani faces. Nearby were the Galactic Imperials’ investigators as well as the guests who arrived with Valdor and Ashari. Sohm’lan’s father sat with his family and they spoke animatedly.
Tori grabbed his hand and they wove their way through the people to the center of the room where the emperor and empress sat with Zeus, Alpha, and Dargon. Unsurprisingly Kryp and Matsya were with them. Since his foster daughter had learned to make noises, her squeaky chirps were mixed with her favorite words. Boo. Cake. Meme—though he was not sure how Ashari found the time to spend with Matsya—and… “Lanlan!” she called as soon as she saw him.
Sohm’lan grinned as his heart squeezed. She had insisted on sleeping on him after the challenge, hesitant to leave his side, but Kryp had convinced her to go to see the young of Tori’s cousins. Kryp sent vids of her playing to reassure them she was fine.
Kryp set Matsya on her feet and held her hands. She wobbled and whacked his legs with her tail, which Sohm’lan knew from experience that it stung when he had not been wearing his military boots. If she hurt Kryp, one could not tell by his expression or reaction.
Sohm’lan reached for her and settled her in his arms. She took his face in her palms and looked into his eyes. He dropped his shields for her.
“Did you have a fun day?” he asked.
“They are my cousins?” she asked instead of answering him.
“Yes, they are your cousins,” Tori said, looking around the room with a glare.
“They fell asleep playing,” she said earnestly. “That was not fun. The nannies said we all needed naps. I was not tired. Playing before and after was fun. But…” she glanced away.
“What happened today?” Tori asked Kryp, his expression saying he already knew.
The Dire D’Noss was looking at his feet as if in deep contemplation. He activated the device that helped him use mind speech. “While the offspring were napping, I went to eat. Before I returned, the offspring woke, and the nannies decided to take them to the private lagoon. They took Matsya without asking or telling me. When I returned to the nursery and found her gone, I followed her scent.” When Kryp looked to Tori, his large, luminous blue eyes burned with rage.
“One of the nannies was carrying Matsya into the water while she was screaming and trying to get away.” Sohm’lan stopped breathing, anger ripping through him. Kryp forged on, his telepathic voice icy. “I lost my temper, and I am not sorry. I already spoke to my grandfather, and he will pay to have any damage to the nanny repaired. But I will not apologize.”
Captain Hesperos had been standing close by, watching them. Sohm’lan thought he was on guard duty for Valdor or Azaes, but he moved closer. “Sirs,” he said, addressing him and Tori. “I was checking the guards assigned to the lagoon when the nanny tried to take the youngling into the Waters. The others to
ld the nanny to stop, but she ignored them.” Captain Hesperos looked uncomfortable and glanced at Kryp out of the corner of his eye. “The nanny said that Matsya was too coddled and behind the learning curve. I was on an intercept course when Kryp appeared at the top of the stairs and bellowed, leaping three stories to the sands. I had reached the nanny and took the youngling from her, hoping to calm Kryp, but then the nanny told him Matsya needed a nanny of her own species who knew what they were doing. To add injury to insult, she tried to hit him with her tail.”
Sohm’lan held Kryp’s gaze and said aloud, “You had better have handed that nanny her tail or I will.” Relief washed over Kryp’s expression. “And you are not paying for anything.” He looked to Tori. “Is this what you were dealing with earlier?”
Tori nodded gravely. “Kryp forbid the nannies on duty from coming to the nursery. That is his domain and palace staff is aware. It should have been told to the nannies when they were hired to help with the young coming with family. The housekeeping steward is handling the issue.”
Valdor joined their circle and added, “Captain Hesperos, make sure the nanny is barred from the palace and have her brought up on charges of assault on not only Kryp but Matsya as well. The vids from the lagoon can be copied for the constables.” He held his arms out to Matsya.
“Come here, little one. You did nothing wrong. Your caregiver is not in trouble. The nannies are not family. Did they hurt any of the others?” Valdor moved away with her, talking in a reassuring tone.
“He interrupted our conversation, took it over, and then walked off with our youngling,” Tori said disbelievingly. “Who does that?”
“Waterfathers? I used to do that,” Sohm’lan confessed. “I am guessing grandparents can get away with it, too.”
He drew Kryp against him. “Thank you for protecting my daughter. The nanny was wrong; you are the best person for Matsya.”