by Ros Baxter
And through it all, there was the constant drag of smiling, and nodding, and murmuring acknowledgement, when her stomach felt weak and watery, and her brain buzzed with trying to work out what she wanted.
She tuned back in to Rashind, remembering his question.
‘Watch,’ she said.
As one, the line of creatures of the deep sea advanced towards the boulder, humming a sweet, low note that sounded to Lecanora like something snatched from a dream. They stopped when they were about halfway to it. They paused, then reached for each other, hand to fin to tentacle to brain. Lecanora felt their brains connect, fusing like a single point of white light. Then she felt the beam of their collective focus turn towards the boulder. Time seemed to stop, like a collectively held breath. Then the thing was gone, and Carragheen was standing alone, grinning and whooping like a child.
‘Incredible,’ Rashind said, reaching for Lecanora’s hand.
‘Yes,’ she agreed, looking carefully into his dark eyes. He too was tired; she could see it in the shadows that had gathered under his eyes. He had been the Queen’s constant aide over the last week, briefing her, taking messages from her to key allies, overseeing all the training and the defensive work that was underway across the city state.
As she looked at him now, she knew she had not been imagining the question in his eyes when they had been together. This was how things were done, in Aegira. Carefully, thoughtfully. She knew, that once this thing was over, he would ask her to enter the Time of Discovery with him, the ritual that allowed two souls time to begin to know each other, to test their compatibility for a lifetime of mateship. And children.
Once, the thought would have thrilled her. Especially to be thought of so highly by someone who could understand so much of who she was. He too had known loss, and difference. Once she would have thrilled at the prospect of belonging, with a man like this.
But now she knew there were other ways to discover someone. Ways that were not careful, that did not await ritual, and permission.
She knew that sometimes decisions were made for you, in ways you do not expect.
‘Rashind,’ she said, dropping his hand and looking for the words that would place some distance between them while telling him how much he had come to mean to her.
But she was interrupted. Rania loomed in front of them.
‘Jesus H Christ, where the hell is he?’
Lecanora considered her sister’s wild eyes, all brown fury and impatience.
‘Manos?’
‘Yes, freaking Manos, of course freakin’ Manos. A week. It’s been a goddamned week, we’re all on a freakin’ wire, here. If he’s trying to freak us out, he’s succeeding.’
Rashind nodded. ‘It is very difficult to wait when you know something evil is coming,’ he said. ‘But perhaps we have been given this time as a gift. What I have seen here today, what you, and Carragheen have done, it is like a gift from Aegir himself.’
Rania shook a hand at him. ‘Yeah, well, believe me, blasting apart some rocks is a whole world different from blasting apart people, especially when the poor saps are your own sons and brothers.’ She turned to Lecanora. ‘Babe, I’m still not sure they’ve got it in them. You know, when push comes to shove.’
Lecanora held a hand a hand to her sister, who took it in her strong brown one. ‘I suppose we will only know that when they come,’ she said.
Rania snatched her hand anyway, and rolled her eyes. To Lecanora, she seemed unusually irritable, even for the feisty warrior Lecanora knew her to be.
Lecanora took her hand again. ‘Please excuse us, Rashind,’ she said, swimming quickly and pulling her sister along with her. ‘What is it?’
Rania groaned. ‘You mean you need more? Baddy after us, no idea when he’s getting here, weird stolen army on his side?’
‘I know you,’ Lecanora said. ‘Something has you in its thrall. What is it?’
Lecanora watched Rania compose her face. ‘Nah, babe,’ she said. ‘Sorry, just antsy, you know?’
She was lying. Lecanora knew it like she knew her mother’s face. Both of them.
She tried another tack. ‘It is your birthday tomorrow,’ she said, smiling at her sister. ‘Your thirtieth birthday, my dear sister. We are never too busy, or too cowed, to celebrate the birth of one of our own. Tonight, in my chambers?’
Before she could shut it down, Lecanora saw something dark and terrified skitter across Rania’s face. ‘Sure babe,’ she said. ‘See you then.’
* * *
Ten hours later
Lecanora had searched everywhere, but Rania was not to be found. She had been to her chambers, to Carragheen’s pool, even to the Queen’s quarters. Lunia, also, was at a loss.
‘But do not panic, dear one,’ she said. ‘I can feel that she is close. She has not been taken. She is here, somehow. She may just need some time alone.’
Did Lecanora imagine it, or did a shadow of the same look she had seen today on Rania’s face cross that of their mother?
Lecanora decided it was time to tune in. She slowed her breathing and put her whole self into Lantara. A deeper kind of listening A searching with the soul.
Her sister’s essence called to her like a beacon. She was in The Eye.
As Lecanora approached, she heard something. A soft, low crooning.
The she saw the outline of her sister, lying on the dais. And another shape beside her. It was Carragheen, and she should have left them alone right then.
But something about the tableau before her, she could not. He was holding her in his arms like a baby, and she was crying. Loud, aching sobs. Then she began to speak, and Lecanora took in the slurred, desperate edge, the not-quite-lucid drawl.
She was drunk.
‘I’m not crying for me,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t be so sad if it was fixed. If only it was all fixed. But you, and Lecanora, and the Queen. And…’ She began to sob again. ‘And my mother, oh God my mother. I don’t know what to do. How to tell them. If I should tell them.’
‘You don’t know.’ Carragheen’s voice was hard and desperate. ‘It was just a prediction, just a damn prophesy.’
But Rania was not to be mollified. ‘She’s been right about all of it,’ she said. ‘That damn seer. Freakin’ dolphins. She’s been right about every last piece. And she was very clear. I will die, C. I will die on my thirtieth birthday unless I can change the course of destiny and save the world entire.’ Rania said the last in a passable impression of dolphin. In another time, another place, Lecanora would have laughed at the mimicry. But instead she felt her lungs contract.
So this was it, the thing that had kept Rania away, for thirteen years. The shadow that chased across her face.
Lecanora felt rage fill her body with a surge of power and hatred that was entirely new to her. So this, too. This too he wanted to take from her. This sister who had been the one thing connecting her to herself through her whole life to this point. The knowledge that he would kill her, or that she would somehow have to give her life in the service of his mad plot, had consumed Rania’s life.
‘Well then, that’s just what we’ll do, then,’ Lecanora said, moving forward and making no attempt to hide her eavesdropping. She slid herself between Carragheen and Rania and wrapped her sister in her arms. She felt her breath expand and fill her chest. She wanted to scream, and rail, and swallow the world. But instead she felt determined. ‘That is what we’ll do. The battle is coming; I’ve seen it. We will fight on the morrow. And if there was ever a battle for the world entire, this is it. We will prevail, Rania, and you will see many more birthdays.’
‘Yeah,’ Carragheen said. His face was grim and Lecanora watched his hands clench and unclench by his sides. She could almost taste his frustration at not being able to make this better, creeping towards her like oil on water, threatening to choke her. ‘What she said.’
He turned Rania into his body. ‘I will not lose you, my love. Tomorrow is your birthday. And no matter what happens, tomorrow n
ight we will celebrate. And I will be celebrating with you, right alongside you. I will hold you in my arms and I will celebrate the fact of you. That you came into my life and saved me from myself. The other part of me.’
He squeezed her so hard Lecanora almost felt the force of it in her own bones, sitting alongside them.
‘Tomorrow is not the end for you. It is only the beginning.’
* * *
Week Three, Day Seven
When they came it was with a gentle song on their lips and murder in their eyes. They started at the outskirts of the city, picking people and families off, quietly, stealthily. So silent that no-one even raised the call. Until the first curling tendrils of blood floated into the more populous areas. And then the fear began, uttered like a low growl and building to a crescendo of pain and loss and terror.
Bloodtide.
It was whispered from dwelling to dwelling, imbued with a sick certainty that this was the beginning of something that would touch them all.
It was early, and Lecanora had fallen finally, fitfully asleep. She was wakened by the criers—wailing the warning throughout the city.
Bloodtide.
She was up in seconds, and before she could fully comprehend what was happening Rashind was there, motioning her to come with him. She could hear the erratic beating of her heart. But along with it, a sick certainty. She had seen this, in the visions. She knew what was to come. She simply had to hold tight. She must believe in the preparations they had done. Not just her people, but The Three of them who were, for some reason, prophesied to end it.
They slipped quietly through the royal halls.
We must do this now, Rashind said. If he comes for her, she has no chance against him. Not like this. They will come quickly for her; she is the essence of the nation. They will want to take her, take advantage of her.
Lecanora reached for Rania’s brain and found her already pulsing with rage, heading for the killing grounds. Be safe, sister, Lecanora said. Until I get there. Through Rania’s eyes, she saw the horror of what was happening, and she burned to be among her people.
She saw a woman, swimming frantically from an oncoming line of the stolen soldiers. Her stroke was inhibited by the fear that paralyzed her muscles. She looked back at their dark, dead eyes and tried to strike out further, faster, but one of the men was on her in an instant. He placed long fingers around her neck and squeezed. The woman’s eyes bulged as she wriggled and writhed in his grasp. She tried to slide her fingers under his, to loosen his grip, but he was cold and almost still, treading water in that almost invisible way of the Aegiran as he stopped her breath and ended her life.
But it was not enough. She felt it in his brain, saw the sticky red product of his desire. He wanted blood. He took a crude cutting implement he held in his hands and sliced the lifeless woman in his hands, from the place where her neck met her breastbone right down through her chest and stomach. She opened like a gutted fish, her blood flowing in torrents into the inky water. Finally, the solider showed signs of life, as a sweet, childish smile lit up his face.
Rania screamed aloud and into the brains of all those near her. ‘Form up. Do not be afraid. You cannot fight them if you are afraid, and you cannot run from them. Remember what we have learned. To The Eye.’
And to Lecanora: Hurry, this cannot go on. We must end this.
Lecanora felt her body burn and split with the desire to be there beside her sister. But Rashind was right. They must protect the Queen.
* * *
How can I go? The Queen was so pale she was almost translucent I must be with my people.
You are no good to your people like this, Lecanora insisted. What you are right now is a talisman. And he will take you. Mother, I know it. He will take you. And if they see that he has you, they will lose heart.
The Queen nodded. How will you do it?
But Rashind was already somewhere else. His eyes were unfocused and he was muttering under his breath. He took one of the Queen’s hands, and one of Lecanora’s.
Help me, he said to her.
Lecanora tuned into his mind, and for perhaps the first time she saw the full astonishing beauty of it. It was like a surreal desert landscape, sparse but full of life. It was intricate and powerful, an astonishing force. And it was connecting with other places Lecanora had not known existed. This was not watch-keeping. It was not vision. It was reaching out to another place, another plane, tuning into the infinite possibility of the universe.
Lecanora felt dwarfed by the awesome power she saw there. She watched as Rashind grasped hold of the Queen’s mind and walked with her on a journey, through labyrinthine tunnels and mazes, before emerging on the other side, to lay her down by a quiet river.
The Queen of Aegira, who had been born the daughter of a god, was raspy with surprise. What is this place?
Rashind smiled into her mind. It is somewhere close by, Queen, he said. Where you can wait and where they cannot find you. You will be safe here.
Lecanora watched her mother roll her face to the soft green grass. It is lovely, she said. All the things I have done, and I have never been to The Land. Not since my girlhood. Thank you, Rashind.
Now we must go, my Queen.
Yes, she said, sighing as she settled back to sleep. Of course. I will await you here.
She held out a hand to Lecanora. Daughter, I cannot say to you to be safe. I know how dangerous the things are that lie ahead of you. But I can tell you this. You carry my own heart in your hands. Be as careful with your body as you would be with my heart.
Yes, Lecanora said. But you must rest. You must survive long enough to see this done.
The Queen smiled, and all the history of their shared lives was in it. Lecanora remembered this woman holding her and rocking her to sleep, teaching her the tricks of the predators of the deep, and how to fool them. Kissing her when she was hurt, or sad, or lonely and wanting and not understanding why she did not have a past, like everyone else in Aegira.
Lecanora’s lungs filled with water, but for long seconds she could not process it. She did not know if this was the end, if they would come back to get this woman, her first mother, or if she would die here, alone. But at least, she decided, if she did, it would be better than dying there, in the ways she had seen in her mind.
Her mother spoke again, her voice thin. But I will not be idle.
Lecanora felt a stab of fear at her mother’s words. You must rest. You must return to see it done.
My body will rest, the Queen insisted. But there is much I can do for my people. Even from here.
* * *
When Lecanora and Rashind made it to The Eye, they felt the first waves of the stolen soldiers arriving behind them. Their faces were grim and they swam in thick red clouds, blades in their hands. The population of the city had gathered behind the dais, and on it were Rania and Carragheen, and the leaders they had amassed.
Carragheen bellowed to the crowd. ‘We have known much loss this dawn,’ he said. ‘And now it is time to take this fight to these people.’
Lecanora heard the crowd below their approval. Aegirans, Gynomarls, Leigons, Sandseeders, freeleins, fish, sharks, cephalopods. The war-like Treppalow, waiting in bristling rows behind their leaders. And she felt in the brains of the people behind the dais. She felt their obedience as they searched their training and knew what they must do. She felt them run over their drills. As she climbed the dais she felt more. She felt them watching the approaching lines of young men and recognize their own. She felt their revulsion for what they must do rise slick and briny in their brains.
Her head spun as she looked around the faces assembled on the dais beside her. Zorax, the Choirmaster, who had led them in learning to put song to the work of violence. Rania, her face tense and her arms bunched, ready for action. Carragheen, doing the heavy work of checking the minds of those they had assembled, wondering whether it would be enough.
And then she saw her.
Susan. Standing strai
ght and tall, beside the others.
Her yellow blonde hair splayed out around her and she wore close pants in the turquoise of the royal line, and a tight black shirt. She looked like an avenging angel of the deep sea, but Lecanora knew better than most that she was no such thing. She was a leader of The Land, and they needed her. They could not risk what might happen to her, facing down this mad mob.
You should not be here, Lecanora said.
Susan smiled at her. Where else would I be? Am I not one of The Three?
Lecanora’s heart swelled at this woman’s bravery. Lecanora had had her whole life to know this place, and love it, to understand how to navigate it, and its perils. But Susan, Saskia. She’d had days. Yet watching her now, her eyes blazing and her body straight, it was clear she was as much a strong, brave warrior of Aegira as any of the others assembled here.
Lecanora’s eyes swept the motley army assembled behind her, and watched the impassive faces of the advancing army coming towards her. She remembered these men, on the beach, how close she had come to stopping them. She looked out at their perfect, fluid bodies and their angelic faces.
Carragheen sounded the order for the first line to take their positions. ‘Remember,’ he called. ‘It will be different with people. You must focus on their frailty. They are not rock. You must be precise. We must take care not to hurt one another.’
Lecanora’s eyes squeezed shut at the sight of them moving into formation as the army advanced upon them. She knew what this group could do; she had seen them day after day, in action, in training. And more, she knew it. She knew what an Aegiran heart could do with the right support, and a belief that it was required for the good of their home.
There had to be another way.
Carragheen went on. ‘They have already killed many. They entered homes. Remember, they are not the sons and brothers you knew. They are not ours anymore.’
As Carragheen spoke the words, Lecanora heard her mother’s voice, clear and sharp and close in her head. He is wrong, my daughter. They are ours yet, still. You can save them. You can save them all. You must try.