Chapter 44

  The moon rose on a ship full of anxious people. A few had fished as the sun set, but most wandered aimlessly, worried and fearful. Even people who had been friendly to Nereida now gave her a bigger berth. She no longer wore her mother’s trinket, and had given up looking human. Her sons had come to the deck, but their usual pyfulness was subdued. They did not know what was going on, but they knew things were tense. Nereida had made a point to bring the boys to the rails, to overlook the ocean, to see the sirens. She made the point, so the sirens saw them, saw her hold them tight. So the sirens saw she had not lied.

  But now, in the quiet of the night, the anxiety was almost worse. Those not on duty, not too exhausted or anxious from their day, sat around the mp as if to tell stories. No one started them. They stared into the flickering mplight, but no one sang or spoke or seemed to even breathe. Evander sat with Dymion, holding his hand but not speaking. Nereida gnced at Ael. She did not want to be the one to start tonight. Everyone likely bmed her or Ael for being at the mercy of the sirens. After a solid ten minutes of no one speaking, no one moving, Nereida decided that since she had broken it, she would fix it.

  She did not stand, but sat next to Ael. She reached out, taking the Admiral’s hand in a dispy of public affection. This drew eyes, smirks. They had not, technically, made their retionship any kind of official to the crew. It was an open secret, everyone knew and no one questioned.

  “It is said,” Nereida began, her tone pitched so that it carried, “that the Dragon of the Moon and the Dragon of Water were lovers. Mighty were these Great Dragons, though they had no true-born heirs, only their human scions. The human scions were encouraged to work together, to bond and be friends, but never to marry. The Dragon of the Moon was blessed, or cursed, with future sight so strong it is said she could never truly sleep, for her dreams were prophecy. She id for her human scions one simple rule: you may love the Waterborn, may lie with them as lovers, but you may never marry and never bear them children.”

  “It was not her own heart she protected with this decree, but the heart of the Water Dragon. For they had been unable to make a true-born child. Magic could have easily solved the problem of two mothers. A daughter would have been a blessing beyond imagining. But it was not to be. The Dragon of the Moon, it is said, knew one day a child of both lines would exist, and that that day would bring about great ruin and great fortune. She calmed her lover, stayed with her every night, and kept trying to cause the magic to work… even though she knew it was doomed to fail.

  And then, the Great Tragedy struck. The Dragon of Water was bsted into pieces, the ocean itself rising and smashing the nd. And the Dragon of the Moon hid away from her people, from her scions and from the world. She cast herself into the deepest sleep, and the world fell into darkness, for the first time without the light of the moon to keep them safe at night.

  The Moon’s heart was shattered so badly that she finally let herself fall into sleep… and in her sleep, she dreams, turning toward the people once again, bringing them light as she remembers holding her love in her arms.” Nereida slid in front of Ael, and the Admiral, feeling the cue, wrapped her arms around Nereida tightly. “And as she remembers, she begins to awaken, and turns her face away again. This cycle has gone on for as long as we have had the written word. It is said she will never wake up, but only lives on through the blood of her scions, sending them bits of her dreams, of her prophecies, and guiding them through to the day that two of their scions shall lie together with love in their hearts. Love for each other, love for their world, love for the Water and the Moon.” Ael’s arms tightened during the end of her story, a reaction as if she were afraid, or sad. Without seeing Ael’s expression, she could only guess. Nereida leaned into her lover, indicating the story was done with her body nguage instead of decring it so. Absently, Ael stroked her cheek.

  “Wonderful tale, love, if a bit tragic,” Ael said, acknowledging they were to each other for all to hear. She pced a chaste kiss on Nereida’s cheek for the crew to see. This was met with some cheers and whooping, and, much to Nereida’s chagrin, some money changing hands. The crew would bet on ANYTHING. She expected her love to get frustrated but Ael simply ughed, and called out “How much did I net you this time, Gregors?”

  “Two gold. Harvey thought you’d make it to the Full moon!” Laughter peppered through the crew, and the anxiety began to melt away. Someone got up and began to sing a dirty song.

  A sudden whistle from the water caught Nereida by surprise just after the song ended. She and Ael moved away from the crowd of sailors, picking their way to the port side of the ship. Down in the water was the younger siren from before.

  “Permission to come aboard?” he shouted. “I’d like to hear the tales and songs better, if you’ll let me.” Ael looked to Nereida.

  “Humanize them.” Nereida kept her voice low.

  “Only if you follow the rules,” Ael called down. “You’ve got to tell one too.”

  “Deal!” He sounded gleeful. Ael tossed a rope to the siren, helped him climb aboard.

  Once he was full up, wringing his long hair out, Aela turned to him.

  “What’s your name, d? So I can introduce you.”

  “Jules,” he said shyly. “I’ve never told a nd-dweller my name before.”

  “Well, now you’re going to tell thirty some.” Ael grinned at him. He chuckled nervously. Nereida smiled at the young man, hardly more than a boy. Now that she was up close, she realized her earlier estimation of his age was wrong. This was a boy just on the cusp of manhood, likely only a year or two older than Epelda.

  They brought him to the mplight, as another story ended. Given how people ughed, it had to have been a good one, and Nereida was sad to have missed it. She braced herself for the crew to turn the boy away, but Dymion, bless his heart, yelled out “NEW STORY!” The boy flushed and tried to get out of it, but the chant of “New Story, New Story, New Story!” began. Jules looked to Nereida helplessly.

  “Give them what they want, kiddo,” she suggested. He groaned, but climbed up on the upside down bucket, and began to speak. He told the tale of a great whale that had gone mad from a poison spilled by bck ships into the whale’s feeding path. The whale, mad with pain, began attacking vessels and sea-folk alike, killing and ramming anything that got near it. Jules had been with a hunting party when they spotted the mad beast. Their music-caller had tried all her tricks to heal the great beast, but the damage was done. They had to put down the whale. Jules had touched the beast’s head as it died, so that it had not been alone, he felt the beast’s pain and knew he had to tell its story.

  “Among my people, being a storyteller is a sacred duty,” he finished. “We hold the history of our people and all of the sea.” He looked a little more confident now. Dymion was crying silently, mourning the whale of the story. “I hope you will let me trade more stories ter,” he added shyly, breaking from the familiarity of storyteller and falling into being just a boy. Several crew members pounded on his shoulder, thanking him for the story, before someone else burst into a song that everyone on the crew seemed to know. Jules sat down, a starstruck expression on his face. He sat next to Epelda, and offered her a big smile. She smiled back, her face red. Nereida caught Ael’s eye and looked pointedly at the two young folk. Ael stiffened and groaned.

  “I’m not ready for that.” Ael muttered. Nereida ughed, pced her head on Ael’s shoulder and ced their fingers together.

  “Is anyone?”

  The stories told, the songs sung, the night was soon over. Jules thanked the Admiral with a deep bow and a promise to return another night with a new story. She eyed him a little longer than was necessary but let him know he was welcome back any night. Ael and Nereida retreated to the cabin. They boys were sound asleep, curled up in the same bed as they had taken to doing. Egaz’s little arm was thrown protectively over his bigger brother. Their bnket and comfort toys were on the floor. Nereida took a moment to tuck the children back in, ensuring they wouldn’t be cold. Then, she took her beloved’s hand and headed to their bed.

  Once under the covers, Nereida kissed her beloved’s ear.

  “Did you like the story?” she asked. She traced her hand down Ael’s left arm, and the Admiral moaned a little.

  “You trying to start something, Ner?” her voice cracked a little.

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re incorrigible.” Ael’s tone was fond, a little ugh breaking up the words. “My sweet siren,” Ael added, kissing her softly.

  “My magnificent moon,” Nereida replied, tracing her fingers down Ael’s front. But Ael froze beneath her, and so Nereida immediately pulled back, and stopped touching her beloved entirely. She wasn’t sure what she had done, it was no more touching than they had done the night before.

  “Please, don’t call me that,” Ael whispered, sounding almost broken. Nereida came closer, offering her hand to hold, and Ael took the lifeline. “It’s… I need to tell you something.” Ael sat up, her tone tired and sad and empty. “It is a family secret, but…. You need to know what marrying me means.”

  Nereida didn’t answer that, had nothing she could say to her lover’s sudden sorrow, and so she simply squeezed Ael’s hands.

  “Three generations ago, in the time of my great grandfather, there was an attack on the pace,” Ael said. “My great grandfather was a lord, the king’s right hand man. The blood of the moon-touched was only found in the royalty of my people. They had been slowly dying out, very much helped by demons attacking them, and there were only twenty of them. And, when the attack broke through the walls, and a single assassin reached the king, my great grandfather killed the assassin… and then killed the king.” Her voice broke at that, and she shivered. “He knew it was his best, greatest chance at power. And so, as there was chaos from the attack, my grandfather went to the nursery, where the king’s children slept and…” Ael didn’t weep, but she did choke back her words, unable to finish them. “When he was done, there was no one in line to take the throne before him.” Her voice was thick, and in the darkness, Nereida could make out her beloved pulling on her clothing. “He bmed it on the demons, of course.” She sounded almost detached now, pulling away emotionally as she began to shift away on the bed as well. “But the truth of it is that my family wiped out the moon-touched. There aren’t any more of that bloodline. And it's because of us.”

  Nereida moved toward Ael, not letting her make any more distance.

  “The crimes of your grandfather are just that. His crimes.” She pulled Ael into her embrace, kissing her head. “You weren’t even a thought yet love.I’m not leaving you because of something you didn’t even do, something you couldn’t have done.”

  “You should.” Ael’s voice broke, her tears making the words rough. The siren reached out and gently stroked Ael’s cheek.

  “Oh, Ael… you can’t rid yourself of me that easily.” Nereida kissed her again, weaving their fingers together. “I’m afraid I’m not letting go.” Ael sniffled and leaned into her, finally letting go of her tears.