by Chant, Zoe
"I didn't say that." His chest, against which she was reclining, vibrated with a low chuckle. "In fact, I might bring some of the kids. Would that be a problem? It would be a good experience for them. The youngest ones have never been away from the mountain."
Greece, here we come, Esme thought.
Her life had never been better. And yet, a cold chill crept down her spine. It was the feeling the old ladies in her dance class might describe as "a goose just walked over your grave."
The last time she'd felt this way, everything had ended in disaster.
She tried to push away the feeling away. It was going to be fine. There was no unknown danger creeping up on them.
"You okay?" Heikon murmured into her ear.
"I'm fine," she said. "Better than fine." And tried to make herself believe it.
Heikon
Greece was very ... bright, Heikon couldn't help thinking.
It wasn't that he'd never gone anywhere at all. But his life had revolved around the Aerie for many, many years. His trips were mostly for business, and not that frequent. Usually he got his business done and went home again.
Traveling for pleasure, let alone going on vacation, was a whole new thing for him.
He stood on a patio overlooking the ocean at the island villa Esme's family had owned for over a century. All around them the Aegean Sea stretched gorgeous and blue-green, shimmering under the sun. The beach was dazzlingly white. Happy squeals drifted up to him as the kids played in the waves.
He had decided to bring Kana and the grandkids, as well as Reive for additional security. If all went well, Kana would go home in a couple of weeks, and some of the other kids and their parents would come and visit then.
"Penny for your thoughts," Esme murmured, slipping up behind him and sliding an arm around his waist.
"Shouldn't that be a drachma?"
"Wow, that's quite the unfavorable exchange rate," she bantered back. "Anyway, it's the euro now."
Heikon turned to look back down at the beach. The kids, both in their dragon forms, were splashing in the waves, diving in and out like tiny otters. The other adults watched them from the beach.
"You're not supposed to look this worried on vacation," Esme murmured, rubbing his back.
"It feels so strange to let them shift here, away from the mountain. I've spent so much time urging them to be cautious in the human world."
"But we're not really in the human world, no more than your mountain is. We're just a bit closer to it." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his back. "My family has owned this part of the island since it was all goat herds and olive trees. It's much more touristy now, but we still have this end all to ourselves. The cliffs block the view from the town on the south end of the island. As long as we don't fly too high, we can shift here in perfect safety."
Heikon turned around to circle her in his arms. She slid into the embrace, a perfect fit, as if their bodies still recognized they were two halves of a whole, even if their shifter animals didn't. He could tell by the feel of her body that she was relaxed, in a way he'd hardly ever seen her, even at her dance studio.
If nothing else, this excursion was an opportunity to see more of her than he regularly got a chance to ... in all ways. Today she wore a pale green summer dress, sleeveless and short-skirted, with flat gold sandals and nothing else. Heikon felt positively overdressed in his light shirt and slacks.
"You love it here, don't you?" he said.
"I do." She laced her arms lazily around his neck and gave him a kiss. Even the way she moved was different here, languid and slow, as if she had all the time in the world to get where she was going. "I don't think I'd want to live here all the time. I'd miss restaurants and ballrooms and movie theaters. Cell phones. The internet." The villa was largely lacking in modern amenities, beyond a few creature comforts such as running water. Even their land line only worked intermittently. It was like the island had been caught out of time, though progress seemed to be managing to advance just fine on the other end, where the tourist hotels were.
"I'm surprised you can manage without your cooking shows."
She snorted, and kissed the tip of his nose. "It's nice to get away from it all. Even you seem more relaxed away from the mountain and all its stresses. Though you keep finding things to stress about here."
They both peered over the parapet at their families on the beach. Melody was relaxing in the shade with a book, while Gunnar hovered. Down by the water's edge, Reive had just gone to stop the kids from swimming too far out. Kana shifted into her dragon—small, slender, wingless, and powder-blue—and slipped into the water seamlessly, hardly leaving a ripple.
"They look like they're occupied," Esme said. "Can I show you something? We'll be back by lunch."
"Lead on."
She smiled and took his hand.
They went past the scattered remains of breakfast on the long outdoor table—fresh bread, pastries, fruit and olives—and on into the shadow of the house, seeming very dark after the brilliant sunshine. Heikon had done a bit of exploring on the villa's extensive grounds, but he hadn't been where Esme took him now. They went around the back of the olive groves, and Esme waved to the caretakers who were tending the villa's chicken flock at the far end. Esme had explained that the Panagapolouses were an old shifter family that her own family had employed for many years; they mainly stayed out of the way when Esme's family was in residence.
"What do they turn into, anyway?" Heikon asked as they went down a path that appeared to be leading to the sea, though it twisted around between dense stands of brush; it was hard to tell where they were going to end up.
"Dolphins," Esme said. "For the most part. I think Elena is a falcon ... or maybe Isidor? I haven't really kept up on the younger generation, to be honest. My parents would know. Oh, that reminds me." Her hand tightened on his. They walked under a bower of olive branches, trained to grow across the path; Heikon couldn't help looking up at it, filing away ideas for his own gardens back home. "You took me to meet your mother, but I haven't returned the favor."
"I know your parents already," Heikon reminded her. "Clanlord business. Not well, but I see them a few times a century."
She laughed. "And when was the last time?"
"Er ... thirty or forty years ago, it must be."
"Then I suppose we're overdue for a family lunch."
The path became steep, little more than a goat track through the brush. The ocean was visible now, and the white-sand beach, framed in the sweep of the horseshoe-shaped cliff that shut the beach and its unusual residents away from the prying eyes of the human world. They were at the top of the other wing of the cliff, across from the end of the beach with shallow water and good swimming conditions. He hadn't been up here yet.
"Now, there are two ways we could go here." Esme stood on the edge of the cliff, the ocean breeze fluttering her light dress. "The path goes on down, but it doesn't really go anywhere. It dead-ends and you have to climb over rocks. Or ..." She turned around, smiled at him, and then spread her arms and fell backwards off the cliff.
"Show-off," Heikon said affectionately, and jumped after her.
She'd shifted in midair, of course, but rather than spreading her wings to soar, she folded them and dived. Heikon was just in time to see her hit the water, arrowing into it like a diving bird of prey.
"So that's the game?" he asked, and dived after her.
The water was crystal clear, and deep enough that he didn't touch bottom even with the momentum of the dive. He twisted around, opened his eyes underwater, and looked up. Esme glided over him, a long dark shadow against the brilliance of the surface.
He'd rarely done much swimming underwater, and he'd forgotten the technique of it. His wings dragged; there was a way of folding them to gracefully glide through the water, as Esme was doing, but he couldn't seem to find it. Up there was bright and filled with sunshine, but down here in the dark—
—the dark—
For months—years—he'd lain in the freezing mud at the bottom of the lake, in a coma so profound it mimicked death. His body was beyond the need for food or air. Slowly, in that darkness, in those depths, he'd healed and recovered and clawed his way back from the grave.
He didn't remember waking. He only remembered the desperate struggle for air—for light—fighting his way upward from the darkness with a body so weak it could barely move. The surface eluded him. Every time he was close, he kept slipping back.
He was drowning. He was dying—
*Heikon!*
Esme's voice, shocked and strong, came out of the dark, seeming to come from his mind itself. She was there, wrapping her sinuous body around him, bearing him toward the light.
He'd come back to himself enough by the time they reached the surface that he was able to swim the last few strokes on his own. Still, it was with profound relief that he broke through into the dazzling sunshine and gulped the warm Mediterranean air. He hadn't been down long enough to be truly desperate for air yet, not in this form—dragons could hold their breath a long time. But he felt starved for oxygen anyway, and cold to the bone even though the water was pleasantly warm against his scales.
"Heikon, what happened? What's wrong?"
"Bad memories." He was starting to come back to himself, feeling less shaky and cold. Esme continued to buoy him up in the water, her strong scaly back just under him and her head creasing the wavetops so she could breath. He would mind it more if he wasn't all too conscious of the dark depths of the water underneath him, too viscerally aware of the feeling of straining for air when there was none to be had.
"Something went wrong. You were in trouble." She nudged his head with her own. "Did you land badly? I'm sorry, I've spent my whole life diving off these cliffs. I forgot you were new to it."
"It's not that. Not you. It took me back, that's all."
"Back?"
"After Braun poisoned me, I fell into a mountain lake. If not for that, they'd probably have found me and killed me for real. But I woke ..." He had to stop, and take a few more breaths, reassuring himself that the air was there; it hadn't vanished.
Esme rubbed her body along his side, providing wordless comfort. "I didn't know it was still that much of a ... thing."
"Neither did I."
She went on with the caresses, her scaly side against his. "What I wanted to show you is nearby, but it's going to involve diving, and diving deep. Do you want to go back to the beach? I'm fine with that. We don't have to go there."
There was a part of him that wanted to lash back against her solicitousness. He was a dragon clanlord; he couldn't afford weakness or fear. But he didn't intend to drown in an attempt to prove how macho he was. He examined himself.
"I think I'll be fine. It was just the shock of it."
"We can swim a bit first. Get a feel for it."
He didn't like the feeling that he was being babied ... but he also didn't want to go back into the darkness at the bottom of the sea. Not quite yet. Esme flexed her body playfully and shot ahead, gliding through the water with the grace of a seal. He followed her, not quite as naturally, but starting to get the hang of it.
Esme came back and sliced through the water at his side. They rolled over, tussling playfully. It helped. He was starting to feel more himself again.
"You could tell I was in trouble."
"Well, yes, of course," she said. "You were panicking down there."
"How did you know?"
"You were crying out for help."
"Was I?" He didn't remember doing it. But then, it was a blur now; he remembered little more than disjointed impressions of darkness, cold, and panic.
True mates could tell when the other was in trouble—at least dragons could. When he'd first felt the mate bond snap into place with Esme, he'd always been aware of her presence, ready to run to her side if danger threatened.
Now he reached out, feeling for the mate bond. If she'd been able to sense him, then maybe ...
It seemed for an instant as if he could almost feel something, but it slipped away before he could get a grasp on it.
He wasn't sure if Esme had been feeling for the mate bond as he had been, but he sensed the mild disappointment underlying her words when she said, "Let's go see that thing I wanted you to see. We'll be late for lunch if we stay out here too long."
With that, she turned and swam for the cliffs, an abrupt shutdown to the conversation.
She was hurt. And upset. She'd wanted it to be there as much as he had.
Feeling obscurely as if he'd failed her somehow, and annoyed with himself for feeling that way, Heikon swam after her. He was getting better at it; with his superior size and strength, he managed to catch up by the time she reached the bottom of the cliffs. There was no beach on this part of the island, nothing but the white foam of breakers crashing into the cliffside, rolling back and crashing again. Heikon had to steadily backpedal to keep from being swept along.
"What's here?" he asked.
"A cave." There was an odd nervousness in her dragon's tone. It didn't sound like fear, more like uncertainty. Not about the task in front of her, but something else. She went on, "It's never visible from the outside, even at low tide. I found it while swimming along the shore when I was a girl. Humans will never find it, I think. They can't stay under as long as we can. But we can reach it easily. Ready?"
He wouldn't let her down. Wouldn't let himself down. "Ready."
"Just stay on my tail." She took a deep breath and submerged.
Heikon went down after her.
She was just ahead of him, wriggling steadily through the water. He followed her, wings folded to his sides, pushing along with his feet and undulating motions of his body as she was doing.
They went down and down; the water grew darker and colder. He felt a few twinges of fear, but it wasn't overwhelming, nothing he couldn't keep under control. It was true, what he'd said to her, that surprise had been the main problem before. He'd been in the water several times already, had gone swimming without giving a single thought to the mountain lake that had almost become his grave. The shock of the water closing over his head, swallowing him, was what had really done it to him. He felt better as long as he was in control.
Just up ahead, Esme angled through the rocks. The ebb and flow of the surf was weaker this far below the surface, though Heikon could feel it tugging at his body in strange ways; there were erratic currents here, unexpected undertows, the kind of thing that could easily seize a human swimmer and dash them against the rocks.
He could see why humans didn't come here.
But dragons were much bigger and stronger.
It was almost pitch dark here, now that the rock had closed around them. He felt rock scraping against his back, and more rock, crusted with barnacles, brushing his feet when he paddled. Panic ran cold fingers down his spine, but he fought it back. Esme wouldn't take him anywhere unsafe. She'd said they could get through easily. He trusted her.
And then they were in the clear again, going up. Esme broke the surface and he splashed up an instant later.
They were in a large pool, surrounded by stone. High rock walls arched above them like the interior of a dome. Surprisingly, there was light, coming down from somewhere high above. Sunlight shafted through the interior of the cave, making it look like a painting.
The cave's vast, nearly circular dome echoed back all the many tiny splashes of the water lapping around them, lending it an odd musicality. It was like being surrounded by a strange, wild symphony.
"There's an exit to the cliffs up above, but it's impossible to reach." Esme's voice echoed in the same eerily beautiful way as the wavelets splashing onshore. "It does let in light and air, though."
Wait—her voice was her human voice again. She'd shifted back; she was treading water, the skirt of her pale green dress billowing around her like a mermaid's fins.
Heikon shifted too.
The water felt suddenly cooler. "What is this place, Esme?"
"Can't you guess?"
The strange acoustic properties of the cave echoed back her voice with perfect clarity. She turned and stroked toward the shore.
Heikon followed, swimming more clumsily in his slacks and shoes. He shifted back to a dragon for the last part of the swim, shifting again onshore. Esme was climbing out, wringing out handfuls of her skirt.
There wasn't much of a shore, just a strip of crumbled rock circling the pool at the heart of the sea cave. Heikon could see, on the walls, crusts of water and salt marking the height of the tides.
Esme hummed. It wasn't loud, but the walls caught and reflected it, echoing it back in a thousand overtones of harmony, as if she was humming with herself. When she stopped, it took the echoes a while to die away, as if her voice had been trapped in the cave.
As silence returned, broken only by the glassy piano-key tinkling of the lapping waves, she turned to him. "This is the Heart of my hoard, Heikon."
"Oh," was all he could say.
He had occasionally wondered what she might have placed at the center of her hoard, the treasure beyond all treasures, but he had expected it would be a record, or a song. He had not anticipated that it would be a place.
"The acoustics in this cave are unique." The walls picked up her voice and cast it back, turning even her ordinary words into a song. "In a way, it's sort of a natural autotuning, but richer and deeper than any machine could hope to match. The first time I found it, I spent hours in here, singing to myself, leaving only when it got dark. I've never brought anyone else here. Melody knows about it, but she doesn't know where it is."
For a long moment, there was nothing he could think of to say. He had never been gifted with such an expression of trust. He didn't know how to respond.
And then he did. He began to sing.
Prior to meeting Esme, Heikon had rarely listened to music, particularly anything produced in the last hundred years, but he did like opera. He picked a duet part from one of the few operas he knew well enough to sing along with. As soon as the first words left his mouth, he felt a sting of sharp regret that he hadn't let her pick the music; what if she didn't know it?