Constant

by Lexi Ander

  Tori pushed Kryp onto a cushion at the dining table. “Not all of them are idiots. Did I tell you how Azaes and I set off incendiary devices in a nanny’s trunk so we could escape?”

  The little L’Eema, Otho, was walking by and stopped. “You bombed your nanny’s possessions? How old were you?”

  Tori grinned wide. “I believe we were five.”

  Otho plopped down next to Kryp. “Oh, this will be a good story. Tell me, how does a youngling find such devices in this palace? Security here is excellent.”

  Tori’s smile was full of teeth. Sohm’lan could see that youngling of five summers for a split-second. “We made it.”

  Kryp looked shocked, and Otho hee-hawed a laugh that made everyone nearby wince.

  His amor regaled the rapt listeners tales of his youth. Sohm’lan loved how animated Tori was, pausing in his storytelling when Sohm’lan offered bits of food. Every so often, Kryp glanced to where Valdor and Ashari fed and doted on Matsya. Some of the glances had to do with revelations concerning youngling shenanigans, other looks were all about Kryp’s caregiver tendencies. Though Sohm’lan was glad to see Kryp was not hovering anxiously like he had when the Dire D’Noss Overlord and Seclord held her. Was he more secure in himself or more trusting of Tori’s family? Sohm’lan hoped it was a bit of both.

  Once late-meal was finished and the tables with the leftover food were taken away, the pillows were mounded, and people lounged in the nesting bowls or swam in the pools. Sohm’lan settled in next to the Vondorians. Kryp and Matsya played in the nearest pool where Shaneva, Canry, and Arion swam. Matsya loved swimming in the pools, but she had not been taken into open sea since she had come to them. Obviously, she was scared and, now knowing that, they would work on helping her overcome her fear.

  Valdor lay on the mound of pillows with Ashari against his side, his arms around her waist. Tori and Azaes were sprawled on their stomachs talking in low voices. Dargon lay on his side, his head in Zeus’s lap, purring softly as his copper mane was brushed, parted, and woven into small braids with bits of colored sea glass. Dargon’s pouch looked painfully stretched, the younglings’ movements clearly visible.

  Ariafella sat beside Azaes, glaring at the back of his head. It dawned on Sohm’lan that he had not seen Rathmar, who Ariafella had kept by her side since being reunited. But when he glanced around the room, he saw Rathmar sitting with Whirlwind and then put him out of his mind.

  “Ouch!” Azaes barked in outrage.

  Ariafella stared steadily at him. “You will receive more than a tail tweak if you do not tell them right this instant. I would say ‘ask them’ but your plotting has gone on too long for them to back out now.”

  Azaes examined the end of his tail, rubbing at the last, smallest barb. “I was going to tell them.”

  Her white brow ridge rose in mock shock. “You have been saying that since Zeus climbed Mount Rhodes for the birth beds. The ceremony is days away. At least give your brothers time to prepare.”

  Tori rose up on his elbows. “You kept a secret from me, and I did not notice?”

  “You have been preoccupied with enticing Sohm’lan to chase your tail.” Zeus laughed. “I thought Azaes was being sneaky about something, but really, with everything that has happened in such a short time, I forgot about looking into what he was plotting.”

  Tori’s eyes narrowed. “What have you been up to? The only ceremony planned is the one for your commitment day.”

  Azaes’ grin was unrepentant. “Our commitment day.”

  Sohm’lan frowned; he was sure he had misheard. Tori and Zeus shared a blank expression. Zeus was the first one to regain his balance.

  “Azaes! I told you no. Dargon and I were planning a small intimate ceremony after your coronation.”

  “I have not even asked Sohm’lan if he wants to be tied to me—” Tori grunted when Sohm’lan shoved his foot into the base of his tail.

  “You have never needed to ask. I will be by your side until my dying day,” he said, throat closing over his final statement. Ceremony or not, no one could take him away from his Tori.

  “We have not talked about it. But we spent moons preoccupied with Timsah’s treachery and searching for a way to contact Poseidon. Not to mention other changes that have happened.” He looked pointedly at Kryp and Matsya. “In the last few days we have added integrating the Mar’Sani and Numina peoples. Academies need to be built for those who want to quicken, and teachers are being sought. Not to mention, we have promised the Galactic Imperials to help find the lost Bespoken, and we need to be ready for a possible V’Saar invasion. I thought we had enough on our plates without adding the pressure of a formal commitment ceremony.”

  Sohm’lan pulled Tori upon the pillow mound with him. “Such a thing is not a burden. You are not a burden.”

  “You gave a long list of coming trials and tribulations, son,” Valdor rumbled. “But you always make time for love, for your relationship. Even if it is in the wee hours of the morning when you step in and hold your youngling.” He glanced lovingly at Canry. “Those stolen minutes or hours fuel you and make you stronger. Your time as warlord, or emperor and empress, will always be filled with fires that need tending or putting out. There will always be something important or crucial waiting to ambush you. You must learn when to say stop, otherwise it will suck the life out of you. Our monarchy’s history is full of rulers who did not, and they burned out. Use the council. Promote more warlords. Learn to delegate. Listen to what your family is saying and not saying, but most importantly, listen to yourself. Do not put yourself last in your priorities.”

  Tori looked up and pressed his forehead against Sohm’lan’s, his sunrise-yellow eyes were bright and filled with excitement. “So, you want to share a commitment ceremony with my scheming twin?”

  “As long as you are there, then so will I be, my amor,” he responded softly.

  Zeus tried to hold his glare, but the expression faltered with the static of Alpha speaking. Sohm’lan waited with bated breath to see what Zeus would decide and was a little curious as to what Alpha was saying.

  Aloud, Dargon replied, “As long as I do not have to be standing, then yes, I will share the ceremony.”

  Zeus continued to braid Dargon’s hair in obvious thought. “All right, Azaes. Dargon, Alpha, and I will share the commitment ceremony. I am going to need your help, though. I thought I would have time to learn the dance.”

  “Excellent!” Azaes practically vibrated. “You can join Mestor and me in the morning. I arranged for an instructor.” He lunged up and grabbed Ariafella, pulling her down next to him.

  “Boo!” Matsya said suddenly from the pool.

  Sohm’lan looked and she was at the edge, trying to climb out. Kryp helped but let her do most of the work. An attendant hurried over with towels and a robe for them.

  “Boo!” Matsya said excitedly, pushing at Kryp’s hands as he dried her off.

  She crawled, her movements more confident than yesterday, her tail slashing sharply back and forth. Everyone dodged the limb even as they grinned.

  “Come! Boo!” she said insistently.

  Once Sohm’lan realized that she was headed toward Dargon, he scooped her up and set her on his lap. She could accidentally hurt the kits in her excitement.

  Two pairs of small, paw-like hands gripped the edge of the pouch. As had happened several times over the last few days, the twins peered out, their silvery eyes staring at everything. But unlike those other times, the twin farthest from the ground crawled over his brother and set his hands on the colorful pillow under Dargon. The kit was in the Dar Massaga Thylakos form, moving carefully on all four limbs. The second twin grabbed his brother’s tail before it completely escaped the pouch and used it to follow.

  “Zeus,” Sohm’lan called softly, not wanting to scare the kits. “Which one is Arimon and which is Basil?”

  Zeus shrugged. “We do not know yet. They chose their names…” he cocked his head to the side, listening. “The first one
out is Basil and the second is Arimon.”

  The kits moved around the pillows, claws puncturing the shimmering fabric when they started slipping over the edge. They smelled everything and Sohm’lan wondered what the world looked like to them.

  Dargon rolled onto his stomach with a groan that sounded almost orgasmic. He stretched out his limbs with a sigh of relief. “This feels so good,” he murmured into Zeus’s lap.

  The kits immediately climbed onto their father’s back and looked around the room from the slightly higher vantage point. Alpha moved from Dargon’s neck, forming a vaguely quadruped shape that was as large as the kits. Immediately, the two went to him and rubbed against him, purrs rumbling through their small chests.

  Zeus sniffled, dislodging Dargon’s head so that he could move closer. The kits mewed and the static of mind speech tickled at Sohm’lan’s earhole. He did not listen in on the conversation between Zeus and his young. When Zeus held out his hand, the kits scrambled on wobbly legs to him. Like Dargon, they had stripes down their backs, but the color was the dark green of Alpha’s skin, and the slashes appeared to have a dull gleam.

  Matsya wiggled in Sohm’lan’s grasp. “Wait,” he cautioned her. “Let them meet their parents.”

  The kits rubbed their faces against Zeus’s, still mewling. Zeus turned and leaned against Dargon’s large, lion form. Alpha batted at one of their tails and the kit whirled, wobbled, then pounced. The two rolled off the other side of Dargon. Several people gasped, but they did not fall far to the fluffy pillows. Not to be left out, the other kit abandoned Zeus and fell off Dargon on top of his twin and Alpha.

  Matsya’s patience ran out. “Boo!”

  When two feline heads popped above the pillows and looked at her, she clapped in delight. Their blue-black manes were fluffed out like dark halos. With all the moving around, Sohm’lan lost track of which one was which. They scrambled over pillows to Matsya.

  This time he did listen in on the conversation. His daughter squirmed in his arms, but he did not let her go.

  “We will have much fun! Swim and play and you have tails like I do.” She pulled hers up from between her legs and showed them. “Lanlan says I have to be careful because my tail is thick and hurts when I accidentally hit people. Does your tail hurt? You can hit me with it to see.”

  Both kits sat and tried to look at their tails caught under their hind ends.

  “Canry, Shaneva, come here,” Zeus urged.

  The kits were distracted from their tails by the sound of splashing. Shaneva hopped to sit on the edge of the pool, and Canry peered over the edge as if he was hiding. Something about the two of them excited the kits. They staggered over the uneven, fluffy landscape. Shaneva caught one before he fell face first onto the tiled floor.

  “There is no rush,” she said aloud, cuddling the kit to her chest. The second one squatted on the pillow’s edge and reached toward the floor.

  Alpha hurried over and showed the kit how to get down. Sohm’lan blinked a couple of times, astonished. The little kit mimicked Alpha and his body elongated as if he were in front of one of those mirrors that warped the image of an individual, stretching in a way not anatomically possible for a youngling. Well, for the youngling of an Alpha-Zetamite perhaps it was normal, he supposed.

  Zeus laughed. “Like that is not going to be a problem as they explore.”

  As soon as the kit staggered over to Shaneva, he gave a scratchy roar. Everyone laughed at the cuteness, everyone except Shaneva. She regarded him gravely.

  “Neither I, nor anyone else, would dare take your twin from you, Basil. Now, not everyone here can use mind speech. You cannot expect them to understand you. Matsya is doing a wonderful job learning to use her words. I have no doubt the two of you will be just as excellent.”

  She put Arimon on the tiles and Basil sniffed and rubbed on his brother, mewly-growls making his disgruntlement known to all.

  Matsya squirmed so much that Sohm’lan cautiously let her go. She crawled clumsily over the pillows and rolled off, uninjured. She was much larger than the kits and the distance to the floor not so great.

  Kryp rose to follow her but did not interfere, just remained close enough to help if necessary. She sat on her rear, waiting for the twins to come to her. Sohm’lan thought the kits would be reluctant, but they excitedly pounced, knocking her to the side. She giggled and thumped her tail but did not hit anyone. The kits rubbed against her and gave little roars. Even with two of them together, she was still bigger and when she rolled onto her hands and knees, the kits fell off in a tangle of limbs.

  A little water splashed onto them. Matsya squealed, finally seeing Canry peeking at them.

  “Boo!” She lurched toward the edge but did not dive in. Instead she sat up and rocked excitedly. “Boo!”

  Canry sank below the surface and the kits scampered to see. Just as they were going to look over the edge, Canry rose out of the water with a splash. “Boo!” he said loudly. The kits fell back hissing and their fluffed up.

  Matsya clapped. “More!”

  Kryp made in indecipherable noise. When Sohm’lan glanced over, the Dire D’Noss looked extremely pleased, probably at her widening vocabulary.

  Sohm’lan pulled Tori to lie back against him, satisfied to simply watch the kits discover the world around them. Canry played with them until the kits’ attention was grabbed by someone else. First by Kryp, who looked at them with a covetous expression. Zeus, Alpha, and Dargon would not need to look far for nanny help. If Kryp did watch the kits it would mean Zeus and his household could stay at the palace. His work was at the military base, but that was a short shuttle trip away.

  Kryp was already teaching the twins, making exaggerated mouth movements for vowels and looking ecstatic when the kits mimicked him.

  Councilmember Rheax had been sticking close to Zeus but had the uncanny ability to disappear in a group. Sohm’lan often forgot she was there or overlooked her. Excellent qualities for a spy. He knew little about her background and wondered if at one time she had served her homeworld in such a capacity.

  The kits bounded over to her, crawling across her lap. They chirped at her, and she gave her own feline noise in return. Though Chi-Lin resembled felines, with their fluffy manes, coloring, and rosettes, they did not have fur or an alternate shape like Dar Massaga. They did, however, retain the smooth grace of a predator and her ferocious sounds made Sohm’lan’s scales itch.

  The twins liked her noises and did their best to mimic her. As the night progressed, Basil and Arimon boldly greeted everyone they could. Alpha was always close to them, touching them in reassuring ways. Sohm’lan occasionally listened to their telepathic conversations. Matsya either watched or joined in the exploration.

  A rustling in the crowd caught Sohm’lan’s attention. Two Valuzial were coming forward. People gracefully made way for them, which was saying something since they were so large.

  Moke and Aemish lay on their stomachs and put their heads on the ground so they could look the kits in the eye.

  “Greetings, kits of House Vondorian,” they said in unison.

  Basil tilted his head to the side. “Father says you are our guardians. Arimon is mine.”

  Zeus sighed. “Basil, you do not need to be possessive.”

  Tori chuckled and nudged Azaes with his toe. “He does sound like someone I know.”

  The Valuzial with a scar on his chin spoke. “We hear what you are saying. I am called Moke and this is my twin brother Aemish. We never want to be separated nor would we do that to you and Arimon. We are your guardians, yes, but we are also companions and friends.”

  Aemish grumble-mewled softly and Arimon pushed past his brother, tottering to the Valuzial, rubbing against his snout.

  Basil gave inaudible huff before going to investigate Moke.

  “The nursery needs to be bigger,” Kryp said to no one in particular.

  “I will show you the other one tomorrow,” Ashari replied, “It has been closed for decades and needs
to be cleaned, but it should be large enough.”

  Sohm’lan looked to Matsya and found her sleeping in Shaneva’s arms. After setting up a time to meet with Ashari in the morning, Kryp gathered Matsya and wished everyone a good evening.

  “That sounds like a fabulous idea,” Zeus announced, staring down at Dargon with heat in his gaze.

  Dargon raised his head and chirped. The kits scrambled off the Valuzials and ran… or that was what Sohm’lan thought they were trying to do, but their back legs seem to be racing their front legs and were gaining with a side totter that made him smile as they rolled to a stop next to Dargon. Alpha, still in an approximation of a quadruped, followed the kits closely. Basil and Arimon sat prettily, as if they had practiced the cute poses.

  “It is time we morph,” Dargon said gravely. “It will hurt as your joints move from one position to another. Always do this in a secure den since you will be vulnerable. Watch me closely.”

  Dargon rolled from his stomach to his side. His skin rippled as bones repositioned and muscles slid into new places to support a bipedal form. The fur deflated, causing it to thin into a light fuzz. Sohm’lan barely refrained from cringing as he watched Dargon’s hands and feet. One moment the transition caused them to look as if they had been smashed with a blunt object, and the next he had fingers and toes.

  His facial changes were just as dramatic as his body, but in a different way. His thin lips plumped, and round cheeks hollowed out. The color of his nose lightened from a light red to a pink gold that better matched his skin. Dargon ended up on his back, sweating and panting as if he had raced a Valuzial in the jungle.

  The kits looked at each other, touched noses, then flopped onto their sides. Dargon had warned that the transformation hurt, and it had looked painful, but he had been silent. Sohm’lan was unprepared for the squeaky roars of pain the kits released. He and Tori scrambled closer, even knowing there was nothing they could do to help. Zeus’s mouth was pinched, and his eyes narrowed, but he did not move. “Do not touch them,” he cautioned. “It will only make it worse.”