by Zoe Chant
He wished that he had thought to offer Neridia some of the surviving treasures from his hoard before they’d left his house. The pearls had been scorched by the fire, but he’d been able to rescue his gold and silver at least. He had nothing that would truly befit her status as Empress-in-Waiting, of course, but perhaps she might have taken some small comfort in being at least somewhat adorned.
He eyed a jeweler's window as they passed, wondering whether any of the diamonds on display might lift Neridia’s spirits. But although he had only the haziest grasp on the peculiar human concept of money—Griff had always managed his finances for him—he suspected that only the cheapest pieces were within his means. He could hardly insult his mate by offering her such paltry gems.
Then his gaze snagged on the neighboring shop.
But perhaps there is something I could offer her…
“John?” Neridia queried, as he took her elbow. “What are you doing?”
“I,” he said, steering her firmly inside the small shop, “am buying you an ice cream.”
“What?” Neridia stared at him as they took their place at the end of the line of waiting customers. “Why?”
“Because you have not eaten anything today, and this will provide you with much-needed energy. Because you spoke so passionately about flavor combinations last night that I think you would enjoy this experience. Because the sun is shining, and I am told it is traditional to celebrate a beautiful day with the ritual consumption of a…” John had to pause to read the menu chalked above the counter, in order to remind him of the human word. “Ah yes, a ‘cone.’ And finally, because I experience an intense desire to eat sweet things when my inner human is agitated.”
Neridia’s lips had been slowly curving upward throughout this speech, but at his final words she blinked. “Your inner human? What do you mean?”
John noticed that the group of human boys ahead of them had half-turned, casting the two of them rather odd looks. He glared, and the youths quickly discovered a pressing need to examine the menu instead.
Nonetheless, he lowered his voice. “Many shifters experience a, an internal duality, shall we say. Shifters who are born as humans tend to have a separate animal-self contained within their soul. My sword-brother Dai, for example, would speak of his inner dragon. I am the reverse. I am a dragon, therefore my other-self is human.”
“Like having a split personality?” Neridia sounded dubious.
“No, nothing so malign. It is just that the instincts of our other form always occupy a corner of our minds. They speak to us, in our own thoughts. That is how I am able to understand human perspective.”
Sometimes, his inner human commented dryly.
Neridia fell silent for a moment, as the line shuffled forward. “So…would I have an inner dragon? Like Dai?”
This possibility had not occurred to him. “Perhaps. You are human-born, after all.”
“Sometimes I feel—I hear—like a little voice, urging me to do things I normally wouldn’t dare.” Neridia bit her lip. “Does that sound crazy?”
“It sounds like you are a shifter,” he said, smiling down at her. “What are these things that your inner voice encourages you to do?”
She peeked sidelong at him, her cheeks darkening a little. “Never you mind. What sort of things does your, um, inner human tell you to do? Apart from eat chocolate?”
John was saved from having to answer that one by the group in front of them dispersing, leaving them at the head of the line. The girl behind the counter did a double-take as she looked up at the two of them, but her professionally cheerful smile never wavered.
“What can I get for you today, folks?” she asked, brandishing her scoop invitingly at the spread of various flavors.
Neridia only needed to examine the tubs for a heartbeat before pointing at one. “Honey and ginger for me, please. What are you having, John?”
His inner human brightened hopefully, but John shook his head. “Your pleasure is enough for me. Although my inner—ah, that is, although I occasionally experience a craving for such foodstuffs, I do not indulge in them.”
Neridia’s forehead wrinkled. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never eaten ice cream? Do your vows forbid you or something?”
“No. It is simply a good test of discipline to deny myself such-“
Neridia turned back to the server. “He’ll have triple chocolate. With fudge sauce. And marshmallows.”
Which was how John found himself holding a brittle cone filled with mud-colored frozen cow excretions, topped with a tar-like ooze and sprinkled with what appeared to be tiny fragments of peculiarly solid white foam.
“You were right.” Neridia’s eyes closed in bliss as she licked her own, much less alarmingly brown confection. “This was a good idea.”
John was no longer so sure of that. The slowly liquefying concoction was quite the most unappetizing thing he had ever had the misfortune to behold. It did not smell like fish at all.
Neridia giggled, obviously sensing his dismay. “Just try it, okay? For me?”
For the sake of putting a smile on his mate’s face, he could endure any hardship. Steeling his nerve, John took a tentative taste.
I told you so, his inner human said with infinite smugness, into the stunned silence of his mind.
Neridia burst out laughing. “Your face. Now do you see what you’ve been missing out on?”
“Griff and Chase—kept trying to convince me—“ John said indistinctly. He swallowed, clearing his mouth. “My brothers-in-arms on Alpha Team have attempted to persuade me to eat such things, many times, telling me that I could not imagine the delights that I was denying myself. I always thought they were merely teasing me. I believe I owe them a substantial apology.”
“I’ll say.” Neridia’s delight radiated down the mate bond like sunbeams through clear water. “Oh, I am going to have to take you to so many restaurants. I bet you’ve never eaten—um, John, you might want to slow down there.”
He couldn’t answer, having gone back to inhaling the incredible concoction like a starving shark. A second later, he found out the reason for the warning. A numbing pain rushed up from his mouth, as if his skull had been filled with ice.
Neridia winced, though she was still grinning. “And there’s another first for you. Your first ice cream headache. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”
“It fights back?” John eyed the remaining inch of cone with increased respect. “Truly this food is fit for a warrior.”
She was still laughing, wonderfully, as they rounded the last corner…and at last, came in sight of the sea.
The simple merriment in Neridia’s face transmuted into something into something deeper, richer. Her own ice cream fell forgotten to the ground as she walked forward, her eyes fixed on the line where sea met the sky. John had to drag her back before she stepped straight out into traffic.
He could feel the way every part of her body yearned forward, pulled by the call of the ocean. The salt-song resounded in his own soul too, but he at least had enough presence of mind to guide her safely across the road and down to the beach.
Gulls swirled in a tight spiral high over Neridia’s head, crying out in recognition, but she paid them no heed. Nor, for once, did she flinch from the wide-eyed stares of the humans they passed. All of her attention was focused entirely on the glittering water.
The waves rose higher as she approached, throwing up ecstatic plumes of white spray like handfuls of confetti. The tide dragged sea-smoothed pebbles back and forth across the beach in vast, rattling applause.
When the sea first kissed her feet in fealty, the whole ocean roared in such jubilation that John was nearly knocked flat. He could scarcely believe that even humans could fail to be deafened by the triumphant song, yet no one else on the beach reacted in the slightest.
Look! John felt like shouting, or singing. Look! A wonder is unfurling, a moment to hoard forever in your minds, a memory to be polished and treasured
all the rest of your days! Can you not see? Look!
Yet the humans continued to walk, or sit, or lie in the sun, with only the occasional curious glance at the unusually tall woman standing so still in the ocean.
It might have been minutes, or hours, or years, before Neridia turned back to him. Her face was luminous, soft with wonder. There was a new depth in her blue eyes now. Forevermore, he knew, they would reflect the sea.
“Thank you,” she said, so softly her voice was nearly lost in the murmur of the waves. “Even if—whatever else happens, thank you. For this.”
“It is my honor and my privilege.” He went to one knee in the surf, bowing his head. “My Empress.”
Something flashed in her sea-struck eyes, too quickly for him to follow. She looked out at the horizon again, but her expression was guarded, no longer lost in awe.
“I still don’t think I can shift.” She hugged herself, her shoulders tensing. “The sea is, well, more than I could have possibly imagined, but…I’m still just me.”
His inner human swore. If she can’t do it even now…oh, we are so screwed.
“John, what if I can’t ever do it?” Neridia said, unwittingly echoing his human. “If I can’t shift, if I can’t go to Atlantis, what will we do?“
“You will shift,” he said firmly, forcing down the disappointment swelling in his own heart. He cast around for some glimmer of hope to offer her. “Perhaps…perhaps you are just too self-conscious at the moment. There are many humans present, after all.”
Neridia blinked, looking around the crowded beach as if only just noticing the people all around them. “Um. Maybe it’s just as well I didn’t shift.”
“We mythic shifters cannot be seen by mundane eyes unless we will it. But I know that you do not enjoy attracting attention. Perhaps your subconscious fears that humans will see your true majesty.” John rose to his feet again. “We should return later, after dark, when the beach is empty.”
Neridia looked happier, strangely, as though this was a stay of execution rather than an aggravating delay. “Okay. So what do you want to do until then?”
He spread his hands. “I have no preference. What would you like to do?”
“Well, actually there is something.” Neridia splashed out of the sea, the waves chasing her up the beach as though entreating her to stay. “I didn’t tell you this before, but my mom came from around here. She used to live in Brighton before she met my dad.”
He lifted his eyebrows, another minor mystery becoming clear. “That would explain why this was the last place the Emperor was seen before he went missing.”
“Yes, they only moved to Scotland after they married. My mom always said that she’d had enough of the ocean, but now I think they must have been trying to get as far away as possible in case anyone came searching for my dad.” Neridia let out an amused huff of breath. “And Loch Ness is the last place anyone would genuinely expect to find a real sea dragon. Anyway, if you don’t have other plans, I’d really like to go see where my mom used to work.”
“Of course, if you wish.” Personally, John would much rather have stayed by the ocean, but if traipsing round some human building would make his mate happy…
Neridia looked rather slyly at him, as though she’d sensed his lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, I think you’ll find it interesting too.”
Chapter 19
Neridia had a moment of doubt as they approached the aquarium, worrying that perhaps John might not approve of keeping fish in captivity. But her fears turned out to be groundless. John’s stern face broke into a rare, breathtaking grin the instant he saw the sign over the entrance to the Sea Life Centre.
“Your mother worked here?” he said, laughter rolling under his words. “She was a scholar of the sea?”
“A marine biologist, yes,” she said, relieved by his reaction. “She spent most of her career working on research ships.” She paused as something occurred to her for the first time. “You know, my dad always said that they first met at sea. I always thought he just meant that he’d been crew on one of the research vessels, but now I wonder…”
John’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I suspect she found herself studying more than she had expected. I would very much like to know how their first meeting went.”
Neridia shook her head wryly. “I bet she didn’t run screaming from her mate in terror. Anyway, in between research tours she worked here as a marine conservationist. After she and my dad moved to Scotland, she changed focus to studying freshwater species.”
John looked sidelong at her as they lined up for tickets, his expression turning thoughtful. “Was that why you too became a defender of the wild?”
Neridia rather liked his term for her job. “Yes. Even when I was tiny, she used to take me out on hikes around Loch Ness, teaching me the names of all the species. She was so proud when I went into the same line of work. Right up until she died, we worked together in local Highland conservation initiatives.”
John abruptly looked grim. “Forgive me for dredging up old pains, but my duty means I must ask…was her passing suspicious in any way?”
“No, it wasn’t like my dad. She passed away a few months before he did. She had a congenital heart condition. There was always the possibility that it could fail her, and, well, eventually it did.” Neridia was silent for a moment, her throat tightening. “She always said that she had to make sure she packed in as much as possible into every day, because she never knew if it might be her last.”
“A noble philosophy,” John rumbled. “It sounds like your mother was a woman of great honor.”
“Well, she would have to be, right?” Neridia forced a lighter tone. “I mean, she was the Emperor’s mate.”
He inclined his head, smiling a little. “There is that. I am pleased that they were well-matched indeed. And that they were able to find happiness together.”
“Oh, you never saw two people so in love.” Neridia sighed wistfully. “I wanted to be just like her, in every way. I even wanted to be a marine biologist too, originally.”
“I imagine that the Emperor was somewhat alarmed when you first proposed that. I take it he managed to dissuade you?”
“Yes, my parents talked me out of it. Now, of course, I know why. But even though I ended up studying Highland ecology, I still love sea creatures.”
“I am very glad to hear it,” John said with utter solemnity.
She was starting to recognize the sly, subtle sense of humor hidden deep under his stern armor. The unexpected flash of it now lifted her spirits for real. She wished he would relax enough to joke more often.
Brighton Sea Life Centre was built underground, hidden beneath the streets and buildings. As they stepped inside, Neridia’s initial impression was that it looked more like a cathedral than an aquarium. Subdued, shifting green and blue lights cast an eerie glow over the vaulted ceiling. Tanks and displays were tucked into dim alcoves like shrines. Wide-eyed kids drifted around, staring in hushed amazement at the jewel-like alien worlds revealed behind the glass portals.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, delighted by the unexpectedness of the architecture. “I had no idea it would be like this. No wonder my mom loved working here.”
With the artfully designed exhibits occupying people’s attention, for once neither she nor John were attracting too many stares. She glanced at him, and noticed that he was scanning the room, alert as ever for any threat to her safety. After a second, his shoulders relaxed.
“Come,” he said, touching her elbow. “Let me show you my favorite display here.”
“You’ve been here before, then?” she asked as they started across the hall.
“Several times, with Griff and his son Danny. It delights me to be able to share something of my home with them, even if it can only be a poor imitation of the sea’s true wonders.”
“I was worried you might be offended,” Neridia confessed. “It really doesn’t bother you, humans keeping sea creatures in captivity?”
&nbs
p; “The great voices, the whales and dolphins, and the greater hunters…yes, it would distress me to see those caged. But here there are only small lives, small songs.” John tilted his head a little, as if listening. “The water hums with their contentment. They do not care that they cannot roam freely, when they have food, companionship, mates. And they do a great and honorable duty by being here, where humans may see them. How can your young learn to treasure the sea, if they know nothing of the treasures within it?”
Neridia smiled up at him. “You’ve just summed up why education is part of conservation. And I’m glad you can tell the fish are happy. Part of my mother’s work was designing exhibits like these so that the creatures would be comfortable enough to display their natural behavior.”
“Mommy, Mommy, look at the fish!” A little girl who couldn’t have been older than five pointed into a tank, her face shining with excitement. “Look, they’ve all come to say hello!”
Neridia glanced at the tank herself—and did a double-take.
About fifty black-and-white striped fish were pressed to the glass as closely as the kids on the other side. They were all in perfect alignment with each other, in ranks like a marching band.
And every single one was looking at her.
Neridia stepped sideways, instinctively moving closer to John. In perfect unison, every fish turned to keep pointing straight at her.
“Why are they doing that, Daddy?” A little boy waved his hand in front of the fish, without getting a response. Next to him, a couple of teenagers had whipped out their phones to capture the odd behavior. “What are they looking at?”
Neridia quickly sidled out of the fishes’ view—only to jump as a stingray in the neighboring tank plastered itself to the glass wall with a sound like a wet kiss. Within seconds, it had been joined by a dozen more, all shuffling and jostling to be the one closest to her.
“John!” she hissed, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “Make them stop!”
“I am not certain that I can.” Despite John’s straight face, his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “They are simple creatures. They recognize you as their Empress-in-Waiting, and so they love you. They cannot help but seek to be close to you.”