Wyrmrider Vengeance: An Underwater Magic Urban Fantasy (The Fomorian Wyrmriders Book 2)

by Theophilus Monroe

  And this conversation was making me uneasy.

  Not that Odette didn't have a point. But Legba trusted me with this power. Whatever it was. No matter how elusive these abilities seemed to be. I had to believe if he wanted me to use it, he'd speak up. He'd let me know something was happening, something relevant to my purposes, if anything happened that warranted me using his aspect again.

  Hoses can't gallup for more than a couple miles at a time. That meant we'd have to slow back down to a trot to allow the horses a little rest. It also meant we'd either ride in awkward silence or have to resume our conversation.

  I decided to change the topic. I mean, Odette knew my ancestors better than I ever would. I was a little curious. Okay. I was a lot curious. The little I'd encountered Henry, albeit not in the best of circumstances, he didn't seem to be at all the delight that I'd had the impression his father, Asbury, had been from his journals.

  "So what's it like?" I asked. "I mean, working on a plantation. Do they treat you well?"

  "Well enough," Odette said. "I suppose so far as things go, I'm blessed."

  "Because you get to help raise children rather than pick cotton?" I asked.

  "Oh honey," Odette said. "I have plenty cotton pickin' days behind me. I paid my dues. But now, helpin' with the children. Doesn't get much better than that so far as it goes for women of my age."

  I cocked my head. "How old are you, anyway? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

  Odette shrugged. "I suppose I'm near sixty. Can't say for certain. Born under slavery, I was sold two or three times as a girl. My records weren't always well kept."

  "I can't imagine how hard that must've been."

  Odette nodded. "It's a hard life. But things are a changin' for the better. I have to believe it..."

  I gripped the reins. I mean, I knew a lot of the struggles she'd face. But dumping a long history of racial injustice on her probably wouldn't do her much good. People need hope. Sometimes it's better to have a dream than to know the future. "How about the Campbells? What are they like?"

  Odette chuckled. "Well, Henry is a stubborn man. But I suppose, seeing he's a man, that is to be expected."

  "I can second that!" I said. "Try being married to a demigod sometime."

  "I can only imagine!" Odette said, chuckling. "Stubborn, Mister Campbell is, but cruel he is not. He doesn't show it much. But he loves that boy of his."

  I nodded. I was trying to rack my brain. I mean, I had most of my family tree well sorted out. There was Asbury and Mary Campbell. They had Henry. Then Henry and Marie Campbell had a boy, pretty sure it was Eri. But then again, that might have been the next generation. Not sure. There weren't any journals from any after Asbury to read, so the next few generations sort of blended together in my mind.

  I'd thought about getting one of those DNA tests that tell you your genetics. Before I went to Fomoria. I wasn't so sure, though, how the thing would reckon with my bloodline. I doubted they had a database of Fomorian merfolk to compare it to.

  It would probably say I was from Finland.

  See what I did there? Fin... land...

  I know. My jokes are awesome.

  "Speaking of their children, you said Misses Campbell is currently pregnant, right?"

  "I did."

  "Why are they trying to end the pregnancy?" I asked. In truth, I knew the answer. Upon the birth of a female Campbell heir, Messalina would return and seek to claim her power-the power I wield as a siphon-as her own. But I wanted to hear Odette explain it.

  "They believe their daughter would be cursed," Odette said.

  "Cursed?" I asked. "How, exactly would she be cursed?"

  "Perhaps you should ask Papa Legba," Odette snipped-as if I were getting too personal with my questioning.

  "I'm asking you," I said, turning and staring right at Odette. "What's the big deal anyway?"

  "I am not the first caplata to take an interest in the Campbell bloodline, La Sirene."

  I took a deep breath. "What does that even mean?"

  "There is a power in their ancestry, one more commonly manifested in females, that most any caplata would love to access."

  "Including you?" I asked.

  "If I were to harness that power, La Sirene, I would use it for good. Not for vengeance... that is what the other caplata, Messalina, wanted it for... to avenge her own father's death at the hand of her former master."

  I bit my lip. "I can understand a desire for vengeance... I lost someone close recently."

  "As a result of this... shark problem?"

  I nodded. "I know I can't bring him back. But his mother... she deserves justice."

  "Vengeance or justice, La Sirene? You use these words as if they are the same."

  "Can't vengeance be just?" I asked.

  Odette pressed her lips together. "If all you are concerned about is the ends. If justice is, for you, only a matter of punishment, then, perhaps, your assessment would be correct. But there is more to justice than that, dear child."

  I snorted. "You call me child, but you also call me La Sirene. I mean, that is a bit strange, isn't it?"

  Odette laughed. "You are a baby Loa, La Sirene. It fits. But do not change the subject. What do you imagine justice means?"

  "When someone gets what's coming to them," I said, nodding my head.

  "Justice is about balance, La Sirene. It is not uncommon to depict justice as a scale. If things are tipped too far in one direction or the other, there is no justice."

  "But if someone gets their vengeance, and the person deserves it..."

  "But the one who pursues vengeance or retribution falls out of balance within the soul, La Sirene. What good it to seek justice against another if it puts oneself out of balance? This is not just, dear child."

  I removed one hand from the reigns and scratched my head. "But how does one know the difference? I mean, as a queen, it is within my rights to punish evildoers, to respond to an attack from an enemy."

  "Again, simply because you have the right, it does not make it just. Justice and balance simply mean, in the plainest sense, to set things right. Tell me, would exacting vengeance on the one responsible for your friend's son's death make things right? Would it bring him back from the grave?"

  I shook my head. "No... but people have to know that there are certain things they can't get away with. That is what punishing evildoers does. It acts as a deterrent to others."

  Odette laughed. "If this is how we justify injustice to ourselves, I suppose, we deserve whatever comes our way."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, raising my voice a little.

  "I've never met an evildoer who is particularly adept at assessing the consequences of his actions. They all imagine they will get away with whatever wrongs they wish to commit."

  "Then how do you stop it from happening?" I asked. "How does anyone prevent evil from happening?"

  "You are asking the wrong question, La Sirene."

  "Then what is the right question!" I shouted.

  Odette stared straight ahead. "You do not prevent evil by threatening someone with more evil. This is not balanced. It is a double-portion of evil. We are all evildoers, La Sirene, if we do not balance the forces of light and dark within our souls."

  "So you're saying we prevent people from doing bad things, dark things, by showing them light?"

  Odette nodded. "This is the only way to bring true justice out of any situation. To ensure light and darkness are embraced in equal portion."

  I shook my head. "But if there's light, the darkness gets dispelled. There can't be both."

  "Each in its proper place, La Sirene. Tell me, if you light a flame in the middle of the day does it provide you with light at all?"

  "Not much," I said.

  "But if a room is dark, does not the slightest flame illuminate the whole place?"

  "I suppose that is true," I said, nodding.

  "This is the principle of the bokors, La Sirene. To truly know the light, there mus
t be darkness. One does not know what the day is without also knowing the night."

  "So you bokors do dark magic and shit just so you gain a better appreciation for the good stuff?"

  "It is not merely about appreciating the light, La Sirene. Without the darkness, there is no light at all."

  I shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, say I agreed with you. How would that change what has to be done with criminals, with someone who hurts or kills others? But your rationale, with that kind of darkness, all it would take is a little bit of light to reform him."

  Odette nodded. "Perhaps that is all it would take. But those who embrace the ways of darkness often retain their darkness in many caverns. They cherish their darkness, so they wall it off into different recesses shielded from any light they might encounter. If you want to change someone, you must root out all the darkness with light. Then, and only then, will they be suited to embrace the light. The night comes to relieve the heat of the day. And only after the night has come might the sun dawn again."

  Chapter Nineteen

  It all sounded rather deep, convoluted, and philosophical. I'm no vodouisant. But if I didn't know better, Odette had embraced a rather complicated worldview to justify the need to balance out the "light" side of her practice with a bit of darkness.

  And she still hadn't answered my question. I decided to try again.

  "So, you evoked me to find Marinette, correct?"

  Odette nodded. "Indeed, I did, La Sirene."

  "And what do you think Marinette can do for you? Why do you need to find her other than for the sake of saving her host?"

  "If the Campbell child is a girl, as I suspect, Marinette will be able to protect her, ward her, from the caplata who would eventually pursue her."

  "So it is not inevitable a girl born to the Campbells will bring this bloodthirsty caplata back from the dead?"

  "Nothing is ever inevitable, dear child."

  I nodded. "In that case, perhaps it's a blessing Mister Campbell could not acquire what he needed. For the abortion, I mean."

  "Perhaps, child. Perhaps..."

  I gave my horse another kick. I was hoping we'd make it as close to nightfall as possible. Even so, it was pushing it. These horses were well trained. They had good endurance. From what I remembered, it was about eighty miles between Baton Rouge and New Orleans. Most couldn't last the trip. And these two horses had just done it the night before.

  It was no wonder they were a little sluggish and needed more rest than before. Not to mention, they didn't have the advantage of the cool of night and had to endure the sun's heat. A real-world application of Odette's worldview, I supposed.

  It was the first time I sweat in a while. I hardly ever sweat in mer form. If I did, I wouldn't know it. I wasn't entirely sure if I was less prone to sweating as a mermaid or if it was entirely on account of being in cool waters constantly.

  Either way, I was looking forward to nightfall and heading back out to sea. Not only because once the sun set, and the sea breeze filled the air, it would be cooler, but because it felt like home.

  Oddly enough, the Campbell plantation where I was raised didn't feel like home at all. You'd think returning to your childhood home would evoke a sense of nostalgia. But for me, it was like another world. It was a place of pain. And it had been long since before I was born.

  Chapter Twenty

  We didn't make the best time, but we arrived at the Port of New Orleans only a couple of hours after sunset. When you depend on a vampire, losing any of the night can be costly. No matter how much he might want to "stay up" regardless of where we were when the sun rose, he'd have to take cover.

  "Niccolo the Damned, I presume," Odette said as we approached Nico.

  The vampire had been waiting for us beside a small sailboat. Not like the yachts, cruise liners, and large container ships that harbored there in my time. None of the ships there at all resembled anything I was accustomed to seeing except, perhaps, in old movies. Nonetheless, there were several large steamships in port. Nico's little boat might have been the smallest vessel there.

  I looked the boat up and down. The words painted on the boat captured my attention. "Seriously, Nico?"

  "What?" Nico asked.

  "Little Ship of Horrors... that is what you named your boat?"

  Nico chuckled. "Feed me, Seymour!"

  I snorted. "I'm surprised as long as you've been a vampire, you'd remember such a forgettable movie."

  "Forgettable?" Nico asked. "You've got to be kidding. Rick Moranis was brilliant in that film!"

  I cocked my head. "When has anything he's been in actually been remotely close to brilliant? Ghostbusters excepted, perhaps."

  "You forget about Spaceballs! And Honey, I Shrunk the Kids!"

  I bit my lip. "Maybe I'm just too young to appreciate those old films. I wonder whatever happened to him."

  "He became a single dad," Nico said. "Quit acting to raise his kids."

  I shook my head. "How you know that, much less that you remember it after a thousand years, is beyond me."

  Odette cleared her throat. "I'm not going to pretend I understand a word you two are speaking. But we only have a little time."

  Nico smiled. "Very well. The ship is ready to go."

  "You call this a ship?" I asked. "I mean, it's more of a boat than a ship."

  "It isn't about the size, Joni. It's all about the motion of the ocean."

  I almost gagged on my tongue. "Sorry, honey, but I hate to break it to you. Size does matter."

  Odette just shook her head as she boarded the boat. Sorry, "ship." Nico followed suit, and I hopped on the ship right behind him.

  I took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the sea.

  "Ever sail before?" Nico asked as he pulled on a rope.

  "Never," I said.

  "I'm hoisting the sale," Nico said. "The big sail is called the mainsail. Until the wind picks up and the ship has momentum, it's the sail that needs to be used to steer. After that, once we're moving steady, you can steer by adjusting the rudder."

  I nodded as I watched Nico adjust the mainsail. He was a pro. One of many skills, I presumed, he'd picked up over his several centuries. "Looks like it's more of an art than a science."

  "I suppose it is, in a sense," Nico said. "But there is a science to it, too. You have to be aware of two kinds of wind."

  I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

  "There's true wind," Nico explained. "That's the wind you'd feel if we were still. The natural wind of the earth. But there's also apparent wind, the wind that we feel because we're moving through the water."

  "And that impacts how you steer the ship?" I asked.

  Nico nodded. "As we start moving, the sails need to be trimmed to the apparent wind. The whole sail, the way it's curved, harnesses the apparent wind to produce the force that keeps us moving forward."

  "Glad you're here to handle all that," I said. "I'd be clueless."

  "Best pick up whatever you can before the sun rises," Nico said. "If we're caught at sea, and I have to take cover in the hull, you'll need to take over as skipper."

  "Skipper?" I asked. "Why not Captain!"

  Nico laughed. "You can call yourself whatever you like."

  Odette, meanwhile, took a seat toward the front of the boat. She gazed ahead as the ship started to move. It was almost like she was in another world. She held the shrunken head in her hands. Was she speaking to Marinette? Since the Loa was apparently unconscious, I imagined she was simply trying to get her bearings.

  "Any sense which direction we need to go?" Nico asked, raising his voice enough so that Odette could hear him through the apparent wind.

  Odette nodded and pointed out toward the sea. Nico steered the ship to follow her bearings.

  Nico continued trying to explain what he was doing. He continually adjusted the sails and started turning the wheel to operate the rudder. It was all pretty much Greek to me. I suppose I should have asked more questions. I mean, was it really possible
to learn how to sail in one night? I doubted it.

  The further out we got at sea, though, the more comfortable I felt. Not with the boat. But with our place in the ocean.

  Odette was still in her own world. Aloof. Almost as if she was in a trance.

  I grabbed onto one of the rails. Walking on a moving boat isn't easy. Add to that the fact that my legs were still a little weak due to having a tail for so long... and my sore butt from two long journeys on horseback. To say I was wobbly on my feet would be an understatement.

  I pulled myself along what I was about sixty percent sure was the boat's starboard side and nearly fell into Odette, taking a seat next to her.

  "Everything alright?" I asked.

  "Of course, child. Why do you ask?"

  I shrugged. "You just look a little distracted. That's all."

  "Marinette's connection is weak."

  "Her connection to the shrunken head?" I asked.

  Odette nodded. "Her attentions are divided. She is focused on preserving the life of her present host. She simply cannot afford to divert any of her focus here. Not until her body regains its strength."

  I touched the pendant around my neck. It still had a little magic left in it. "I don't know how much it would help since we'd already be there by the time we find her, but I might be able to use my magic and heal her. Partially, anyway. It could buy us some time."

  Odette scratched her head. "That might help. And we may not need to wait... her connection to the head of her former host is weak, but it's there. If you can send some healing magic into it..."

  "Would it heal her in her current body?" I asked. "I mean if we heal this head..."

  Odette shook her head. "I am not certain that magic such as what you might use can pass through the channel. But if one host or the other is viable... she could reclaim her place in this host."

  I scrunched my brow. "But it's just a head. I mean, if her current body is failing, wouldn't a beheaded... head... be even less viable?"

  "Your magic is Fomorian in origin, is it not?"

  I nodded. "Of course... but..."

  "Such magic predates the creation of the world, La Sirene. It is a power directly from Bondye, wielded only by Met Agwe and now, you, La Sirene."