by Zoe Chant
As dawn began to send tendrils of color into the dark water, Bastian stirred at last.
I’m here, Saina told him at once, letting her voice rest.
I failed you, Bastian sighed.
That’s the first thing you think of? Saina scolded him.
You are the first thing I will always think of, Bastian responded. And the last thing when I sleep.
Saina couldn’t reply for a long moment, and she suspected that she would have been crying if she hadn’t already been cradled in saltwater. How do you feel? she was finally able to ask.
In answer, Bastian unwrapped his tail and stretched his body, creaking and wincing as he uncoiled. Better, he said in surprise. Better than I expected.
We’re still a ways from Shifting Sands, Saina told him. Can you make the trip, or is it better to stay here another day?
Let’s go home, Bastian said.
Alright, Saina agreed reluctantly. She would have liked to see Bastian gain more strength first.
They were almost halfway back before Saina recognized that she had unthinkingly accepted Shifting Sands as her own home as well.
They swam at her speed, which would have been ridiculously slow for Bastian at any other time, but it was a terrible effort from him now.
When they reached the reef protecting the beach of Shifting Sands, Saina convinced Bastian to shift to human.
“I’m a lifeguard now,” she reminded him. “You should listen to me.”
She pulled him gently the rest of the way to shore, using the very carry they had practiced in the pool.
They rose from the surf on the resort beach in human form, Saina wriggling up under his arm so that some of Bastian’s exhausted weight was on her as they waded through the waves up onto the sand.
Sunbathing guests greeted them with surprise, and someone offered a bottle of water from the little beach bar. Saina realized that Bastian was dressed in a fine silk suit, absolutely destroyed by blood and saltwater where it hadn’t been ripped and torn. His human skin showed bruising that had been masked by his dragon scales.
Tex met them at the bottom of the stairs to the beach and took Bastian’s other arm over his own shoulder to help them up the steps.
“His room,” Saina gasped. “His hoard will help him heal fastest.”
Bastian was staggering and made a noise that might have been protest. He wouldn’t want anyone else seeing his hoard, she realized, and then Travis was taking the rest of his weight from her. She fought down a pang of jealousy as the two helped Bastian across the pool deck and up the next flight of stairs.
Scarlet was waiting on the bar deck, but to Saina’s relief, only looked concerned, not the slightest bit angry.
The owner did not move to delay them, only surveyed the activity and exchanged a wordless nod of greeting with Saina as they went past. Guests openly stared, and Scarlet walked across the tile to personally reassure them that everything was under control while Tex and Travis manhandled Bastian through the staff door.
Saina wondered what Scarlet would tell their audience.
Laura or Jenny met them there, Saina honestly wasn’t sure which. She was wearing the white apron of the spa, her hands still in plastic gloves as protection from whatever she had been working on.
“Is he…?” she asked.
“He’s going to be fine,” Saina said truthfully. “He just needs to rest and heal up.”
There were so many stairs. Narrow steps that the three men didn’t even fit on together past the staff gate, broad steps along the main path, then three flights of stairs within the staff house. Saina didn’t pause to find out what house names they were currently considering.
At the door to his room, Bastian gathered himself. “I can do this,” he said, shrugging off Travis and Tex and reaching into a battered pocket for his key. Lifting his arms up to the lock made him groan, and Saina took the key from him without protest.
“I can do this,” she said firmly.
To the other two, she smiled her gratitude. “We’ve got it from here, boys,” she said lightly while Bastian clung to the doorframe. “I can get him into bed.”
“No doubts there,” Travis said archly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tex said more diplomatically, elbowing Travis in the ribs.
As they turned away and tromped back down the stairs, Saina unlocked the room and helped Bastian limp into the room to fall face forward into his bed.
Chapter 32
Bastian swam back to consciousness, found blissful contentment in Saina’s presence and the harmony of his hoard, and went immediately back to sleep.
The second time he came awake, she was sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, and he recognized that the smell of the food she was holding was what had woken him.
She smiled when he stirred.
“I thought that something tasty from Chef might coax you back to the waking world,” Saina said.
Bastian groaned as he sat up. His wounds had all healed into fresh scars, but he felt very much as if he’d been tenderized by something large and unfriendly.
And he was famished.
Saina fed him the first few bites, and he could feel his energy begin to return, rising with his appetite. It was some sort of creamy, herb-flavored pasta, with thick, homemade noodles.
He took the fork from her and fed himself when she seemed too slow.
“You slept for two days,” she told him, handing him a tumbler of cool water to wash it down with. “But you certainly look better for it.”
Bastian downed the water and handed the glass back. “I should have known better than to challenge Keylor.”
Saina balled up a fist and hit him in the shoulder. “Damn straight.”
It didn’t hurt as much as Bastian had feared.
“And what was with having a knock-down, dragon-out fight? I thought you dragons just listed your hoards to each other and the winner was the one worth more!”
Bastian snorted. “Maybe that’s what those anemic European dragons do, but New World dragons have never had to worry as much about collateral.” He looked around his hoard, feeling ashamed. “And I would have lost that fight, anyway.”
“Because Keylor has gold?” Saina scoffed. She ran her hand along the sea glass that hung above the bed, making it chime. “Your hoard is tuned.”
She touched a shell nestled in the netting above the headboard. “You have a perfect unbroken ammonoid shell.”
She rolled off the bed and danced across the room to the anchor. “This anchor is from the Morning Star, lost north of Australia in 1814. The wreck was never found!”
“Keylor wouldn’t even know what to do if I started listing these,” Bastian laughed. “He’d sprain something laughing.”
“His loss,” Saina said with a shrug, returning to the bed.
“You are the crown of my fortune,” Bastian said, reaching for her.
She came willingly into his arms, tickling his neck with her kiss.
“Do you accept that you are my mate now?” He had to ask.
She drew back and gazed into his eyes. “I don’t know about mates,” she confessed. “It seems like a far-fetched fairy tale to me. But…” she placed her hand on Bastian’s chest. “I cannot deny that you are a part of me. The very best part.”
Bastian put hands on either side of her face and kissed her. “My treasure,” he said happily.
He kissed her until his muscles ached, then drew back. “What are we going to do about your Voice?” he asked soberly.
Her eyes grew shadowed. “I’ll think of something,” she vowed. “I have to.”
Bastian brushed her hair back from her face. “We’ll think of something,” he said confidently.
Saina’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Your parents, they are very strict, and honorable?”
“There’s a reason that draconian is a term for being harsh and exacting,” Bastian said dryly. “I think that the only thing my parents value more than honor is the nobility they lack.”<
br />
“They aren’t royalty? I sort of assumed that because of their edict for your return, they were trying to keep their lines clean.”
“Rich, of course, but neither has ever really forgiven themselves for their own low origins. I guess they hoped to gain some sort of royal stink for themselves if I married into it.”
“Intriguing,” Saina said. “But I’m not sure how to work that to our advantage. Now, when you were disgraced, did you forfeit your hoard?”
Bastian gave a dry bark of a laugh. “I would have, but no one wanted it.”
“That’s more useful,” she said thoughtfully.
“What do you have in mind?” Bastian asked suspiciously.
“I’m not sure yet,” she said slyly. “But I think we may need Chef’s help.”
Chapter 33
After assuring Bastian that he could not help with the first phase of her plan, Saina reluctantly left him. Even with a rainbow of bruises and a crushed ego, he was the most intoxicating man she had ever met. She wondered if he didn’t have a little bit of siren in him somewhere, the way he enchanted her.
Chef was on the restaurant deck. It was the end of the breakfast window, and a few guests were lingering, enjoying a last cup of coffee or a relishing a last sweet pastry or piece of fruit. Chef often liked to come out at this time, or whenever the kitchen wasn’t busy, and mingle with guests. He was a charming mix of friendly and professional, and Saina wondered if he ever broke out in song as he did in the kitchen.
He was standing by the table of one of the largest women that Saina had ever seen.
“I insist you sit,” the woman was saying, indicating the opposite chair with an imperious fork. “I cannot make informed decisions with you hovering around like a common servant.” Her words were kind, but brooked no argument.
Chef sat, looking unaccountably as if he would prefer to kneel.
Saina tried not to fidget, and Chef caught sight of her over the woman’s shoulder.
“Saina,” he said, rising again with impeccable politeness. The seated woman gave a noisy sigh. “How is Bastian doing?”
“He’s awake,” Saina said, moving into the social ring of the table as the woman looked around at her. “Ma’am,” she said in polite greeting.
“This is Magnolia,” Chef introduced, bowing in her direction.
“And you must be Saina,” Magnolia said, giving her an openly appraising look. “I cannot count how many hearts you must have broken by being Bastian’s mate.”
That was not the fashion in which sirens usually broke hearts. “I… ah, yes, I’m Saina,” she said, caught off-guard.
Magnolia offered a hand of round bejeweled fingers to delicately shake. “A delight to meet you. I am looking forward to hearing you sing. I have heard so much!”
That wasn’t usually a good thing, Saina thought wryly.
“What can I do for you?” Chef asked. “You look like a woman on a mission.”
Saina glanced sideways at Magnolia. “I came to ask for a favor.”
Her cautious look did not go unnoticed. “Whatever mischief you are planning, I will find out eventually,” Magnolia said arrogantly. “And if you two don’t sit, I shall become cross.”
Saina and Chef both sat obediently, and Saina gave Magnolia as frank an appraisal as she’d received. Violet eyes looked back from a serene face ending in unabashed extra chins. Gorgeous auburn hair was perfectly styled down past the seat of her groaning chair.
Her gaze was sharp and intelligent, and warm with friendliness.
Finally, Saina smiled. “Here’s what I need…”
After Chef approved of her plan, Saina walked down from the restaurant deck past the bar towards her cottage.
She waved at Tex, behind the bar, and Laura, who was clearing tables, and winced at the ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ sign beside the pool below. Scarlet hadn’t said one word about their delinquency, but Saina knew that this tolerance wouldn’t last indefinitely.
As she went to the gate that would take her home, a wild-haired figure stepped in front of her.
“My friend doesn’t trust you,” the young woman said.
Saina took an automatic step back. “Who is your friend?” she asked in alarm. She had heard of Gizelle, and spotted her several times in her gazelle form from across the lawn, but had never spoken to the shy girl.
Gizelle stood up tall, unexpectedly as tall as Saina, every bone in sharp relief under her pale skin. “I’m friends with the stars in the sky and the sunlight in shadows. But the ocean eats the shore.”
Saina started to speak, and fell instead.
She was standing in a strange field, sunlight illuminating grass endlessly in all directions, but when she slowly lifted her head, moving as if she was in an ocean of molasses, the sky above was black and featureless.
She opened her mouth to cry out or sing her way back, and was surprised to find that she was entirely mute. It should have alarmed her, but everything felt impossibly heavy and meaningless. She wanted to lie down and sleep, but even that much motion seemed like too much effort.
Then she was blinking in the brilliant tropical sunshine again.
“Gizelle, honey, what are you doing?”
Saina shook her head and staggered a few steps away. She felt drunk and tingly, as if all of her limbs had been asleep. She recognized Tex’s voice, and then Laura’s.
“Are you alright? Saina?” There was an odd clicking sound, and Saina realized that Laura was snapping her fingers in front of Saina’s face.
“I, ah, what happened?”
Gizelle was still looking at her, but from behind a curtain of her salt-and-pepper hair now, a shy smile blooming on her face.
“Gizelle, sweetie, you’re not supposed to do that to people,” Tex was scolding her gently.
“It’s okay,” Gizelle told him, cocking her head at him. “I like her now.”
Then she was scampering away.
“This is a very strange place,” Saina said in confusion.
“You’ve only seen it on a slow day,” Laura said wryly.
Chapter 34
Bastian’s head hurt.
The sunset sent stabbing rays of light into his eyes and he squinted at it with a draconic scowl. The last of the beach sunbathers and swimmers were packing up their bags and returning to the resort for their dinners and drinks, and he was glad to see them go.
He shifted to human to collect the chairs and the minor litter they’d left behind. The beach bar was briefly straightened, and Bastian bundled up the trash to take with him. It felt impossibly heavy.
Saina was waiting for him at the top of the beach steps, and his heart lifted.
In the last rays of the sun, she was a dark-haired, golden goddess, all curves and swirls. She took the bag of trash from him and took his hand in her own. Her fingers were strong and his skin against hers was like the touch of a unicorn’s horn in tainted water; he could feel the headache ebb away and the black mood that had haunted him fade.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, after she had tossed the trash and helped him pick up all the towels on the pool deck and reorder the chairs.
“Better,” Bastian said stoically.
“Liar,” Saina scoffed.
“Why’d you ask if you knew the answer?” Bastian sulked. They were standing at the far end of the pool deck, looking out over the dark beach, and he leaned down on the railing.
Saina answered with a kiss on his cheek. “Being grouchy is totally normal for goldshot withdrawal,” she said with understanding.
“It’s awful,” Bastian admitted. “I have never felt so weak and useless and hungry.”
“Dinner is being served now, but we could grab something from the staff house or the back of the kitchen.”
“That’s not the kind of hungry,” Bastian complained.
Saina put an arm over his shoulder, pressing herself against his side. “I’m so sorry,” she said, leaning her head against him. “This wouldn’t have happened if i
t weren’t for me.”
“I’m not sorry,” Bastian said swiftly. “I mean, this is awful, but I will get over it eventually. I would take this a hundred times over for the chance of meeting you.”
“I’m not worth it,” Saina said bitterly. “Sirens are never worth their ticket price.”
“You are,” Bastian told her sincerely. “I would take goldshot hangovers for a century to spend one day with you.”
She looked at him in wonder. “You really mean that.”
“Dragons are always honest.”
“Mermaids never are,” she retorted.
“I will always trust you,” Bastian said firmly.
“Then you’re a fool,” Saina said, with her crooked true smile.
Bastian smiled at her, and reached to smooth a lock of hair back from her face. “A glad one.”
She kissed him, then, wriggling between him and the railing to put arms around his neck.
Her lips were healing, chasing the last vestiges of pain from his head.
When he drew back for breath, he had to ask, “Are you sure about this plan?”
“I’m only sure of one thing in this world,” Saina said gravely. “And that’s you.”
Chapter 35
Saina wasn’t sure how this had turned into such a production. The little conference room behind the kitchen was crammed with people and suggestions. Her pink suitcase was open on the table on a plastic trash bag. The goldshot sludge had dried to a brittle crust.
Travis had brought an array of plastering tools and a bucket of gypsum. Chef had bins of flour and sugar.
“I don’t want to kill him if he actually takes it,” Saina said firmly, looking with question at Travis’ bucket. “It just needs to fool him for a little while.”
Laura picked up a crust of goldshot with a gloved hand. Jenny, like a double-image beside her, poked a piece with her pen. “Are you sure it’s safe to touch?”
“It won’t have any effect on you unless you’re a dragon,” Saina promised.
Jenny’s face quirked into a smile. “Well, I don’t think so, but I didn’t know I was an otter for the longest time, so who knows!” She kept her bare hands well away.