Chapter 80

  Dawn was bright and warm. Nereida groaned as she sat up, her joints aching and her muscles screaming after her trip into the ocean yesterday. Her shoulder popped as she stretched her arms up. Ael’s side of the bed was cold, the Admiral long gone from the safety of their shared bed. Jules still snored softly from her son’s cot, the young man as exhausted as could be. She knew it was harder for him to work complex magic outside of the ocean. Small wonder the youth still slept.

  She moved to Epelda’s side to check on her. The young woman had slow, steady breaths, her colour was good. Nereida checked her hand, but saw no sign of infection or of the venom. It had been hard to pull the venom out, as it had spread far through Epelda’s body, but now there was no trace. The nubs where her fingers had been had scarred well, should be pain-free. But Nereida’s heart broke, staring at the mangled hand, knowing she was not enough. Memories of Elgaza lying lifeless in her bed, ravaged by fever, her eyes unseeing as Egaz cried from his bassinet washed over her, threatened to drown her in grief and helplessness.

  “Water-mama?” Epelda signed, her movements slow and groggy. Nereida gently brushed some of Epelda’s wispy blond hair off her head.

  “I’m here,” she whispered. Epelda shook in the bed, tears flowing silently as she stared at her hand.

  “Not a dream?”

  “Not a dream, daughter. I’m so sorry.” She signed sorry twice, trying to convey the depths of her feelings, unsure if she could. Epelda gave her a watery, broken smile, and grabbed her hand. Her grip was still strong. They sat in silent understanding of one another, until a sharp whistle blew. It was Evander’s whistle, Nereida was quite sure, as Ael’s still hung around Epelda’s neck.

  “Help me,” Epelda signed, sitting up. She was wobbly. Nereida closed her eyes, trying to block her own tears. She felt Epelda sign it a second time, more forcefully, pressing the signs against Nereida’s arm.

  “If you go out there, daughter, you will have to face the one that did this. You may have to kill him.” Nereida swallowed her own fear, and opened her eyes so that she could look into her daughter’s eyes. The young woman nodded, her eyes hard.

  “A captain does what is best for the ship.”

  Nerieda worked quickly, dressing her daughter in stately clothing, using Ael’s clothing mostly, but also one of Nereida’s tabards. Both sets of family colours were worn in bance. Once she was presentable, Epelda woke Jules. Nereida left to give them a minute, warning her daughter that she was needed outside quickly.

  There was great tension on the deck. All the crew were silently working at tasks and pretending that they were not watching Ael or the newly arrived pack of sirens. There were six of them, all of them mostly naked, except the eldest. He appeared to be in his te fifties, his waist-length beard streaked with white. His eyes were on her the moment she stepped out, but Nereida waited at the door, refusing to acknowledge him, or anyone, until Epelda and Jules stepped out. Epelda strode out, her movements purposeful. Nereida almost smiled. Her daughter would be a force once they reached court. Jules, his head bowed, and three steps behind, stepped into the light wearing Epelda’s tunic from the day before. It was salt-stained from the sea, but it was obvious that he was wearing her colours. Whelp, she would deal with that after.

  Together, Epelda and Nereida approached the sirens who stood on the ship. None of them were armed, save the oldest one who leaned on a walking stick with a thick cudgel at the top.

  “Why do you hold one of my people, Dolphin’s Revenge?” The old man’s voice was gravelly and rough.

  “He maimed my daughter. Without provocation.” She gred at the siren in question, who was conscious now, but not struggling. She took her daughter’s hand, held it out for the old man to see. “I demand justice.”

  “I will hear his reason,” the old man replied. “He is one of my people, and it will not be justice to deny him that.”

  “Done.” Nereida snapped her fingers, and Evander moved in, appearing out of the crowd that had gathered around them. The first mate, his expression steely, carefully undid the gag, removing the rag carefully so as not to lose a finger if the siren bit. The old man began to sing, asking the attacker his reason. The attacker answered with spoken word, ignoring the mercy the old man was offering.

  “They would mix the blood! I heard them, I heard his song.” Nereida felt her heart skip a beat. He wanted to marry her daughter. She wasn’t sure whether to ugh or cry. They were so young, and it had only been a few months. But she heard the hypocrisy in her own thoughts, and she cast them into the ocean. The attacker snarled. “They’d make an abomination child, one of air and water. If it carried the blood of dragons, it could do anything!”

  “Cross marriages happen all the time,” Ael said, her tone hard. “The isnds, when at peace, mix often. A cross-bred child is not to be feared.”

  “We do not cross breed,” the attacker snarled. “We are pure, the chosen of the ocean!” Ael ughed at him, her anger seeping into her ughter to make it a terrible sound.

  “Oh? Have one of you been possessed by the Ocean?” Nereida clenched her teeth and shot an angry gre at her wife. That had been a foolish, foolish thing to say. But Ael’s eyes were not quite right, something almost manic in them.

  “That is enough,” the old man decred, before either party could make things worse. He banged his stick on the deck, and the sound echoed. “They are not bound to our rules, even if they have a Dolphin among them.” He motioned to Nereida. Nereida gnced at her wife, raising an eyebrow. Ael had crossed her arms, slipped into her Admiral persona again, her walls returning. That was fine, this was a good time for masks and walls.

  “What he did was an unprovoked assault,” Nereida said evenly.

  “Agreed.” The old man gred harshly at the attacker. Without warning, he thumped the heavy end of his walking stick onto the bound siren’s head. “What does your justice cim here?”

  “At minimum, that he suffers as she did,” Nereida replied, her tone hardening. “While she kept the hand, she lost two fingers, and that is how she speaks.”

  “Would you kill him?” the old man pressed. Nereida forced her face to stay neutral, stoney. She was ice now, not water.

  “Only if your ws demand it. I do not require his death. His suffering will suffice. That is not mercy. Had I my way, I would have killed him st night.”

  “What stopped you?” the old man came toward her, his eyes searching hers as if he was seeking the answer. Or perhaps he wanted to read the truth of her words from her eyes. His breath stunk of fish. He was much too close. She did not back away, but did look into his dark eyes.

  “I would not have war, elder. He maimed my daughter, but war between this ship and your people only ends in more dead. So I waited. I did not take revenge.” She smiled a feral smile, letting her anger and pain seep into the expression.

  “Your daughter may do to him as she wishes,” the elder replied after a long moment. “He is hers until the end of the hour. If he still lives, we will take him and heal what can be healed. If he does not, that is on her. But no one else may strike him.”

  “We understand,” Nereida replied. “Thank you.”

  “Will he survive without a hand?” Epelda signed. She waited until Jules transted her words. The old man sighed.

  “He is a hunter. A warrior. He will be sent to live on nd to tend the children and the crops. He will live, but he will never again know the thrill of the hunt.” The attacker wilted at this, but then redoubled, a look of determination on his face.

  A cloud passed overhead, shadowing the deck.

  “I just have to live an hour, and then I can kill her.” The voice belonged to the attacker, but his mouth had not moved. Nereida saw Ael shiver as if bugs had crawled over her body. Dymion looked down at all of them from the quarter deck. His expression was dark. Nereida was not sure if she looked at the Great Dragon, or Dymion in his fury. There was sudden chaos as several crewmen drew their knives or swords. The sirens began to sing, calling water up to them, readying weapons of ice.

  “Stop!” the old man commanded in unison with Nereida. In perfect accord, they stood back to back, facing their own forces.

  “Have you someone who can sing the truth from him?” Nereida asked softly. The old man simply nodded.

  “Submit to the song,” he commanded. “Tell us if that was, indeed, your thought wrenched from you, or if another put words into your voice.” The old man began to sing, the magic weaving around them from his deep tones. The attacker thrashed about as if trying to block his ears. The crew on deck waited, swords drawn, though many of them were shaking. A siren was singing on deck. Their fear was palpable. Nereida was fairly certain she smelled the sharp smell of urine in the air.

  “They were mine,” the bound siren cried out as he twisted and tugged, trying to break his way free. The song broke and the bound man slouched forward. The old man was leaning more heavily on his stick, scowling.

  “You are an idiot, and I wash my hands of you.” He turned to Nereida and bowed low. “Please return his corpse to the sea when you are finished. You and your chosen may head to the isnd when you please.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded, and turned abruptly, calling his people back to the water with a quick high whistle.

  The six sirens gone, Epelda slumped into Jules’s waiting arms. She was trembling with exertion. She motioned to Ael, calling for her mother with a quick little gesture.

  “Let me do this for you,” Jules whispered to her. “It is not an easy thing to take a life.” But Epelda shook her head.

  “Mine to do.” She had tears in her eyes. Nereida wanted so badly to go to her, to support her, but when she stepped forward, Epelda shook her head no. And so Nereida could only watch as her daughter took a knife from Ael.

  The young woman stared into the eyes of the man who had taken part of her hand, who had attacked her because she dared to love someone. Epelda’s hands shook, tears poured down her face silently. She was clearly at war with herself, stuck staring at the awful man. Ael slipped away from her daughter to stand next to Nereida, taking her hand, holding it tightly so she did not surge forward to help. Epelda raised the bde.

  And cut the ropes.

  The siren stared at her in confusion. She began to sign, looking at Jules for him to transte. He did so, though his voice cracked and he had paled.

  “I give you back your life,” she signed. “I am not a monster. But I mark you with magic.” She sung a single, high-pitched, almost screeched note. A scar appeared on his skin, three flowing lines like the blowing wind. “Come near me, my ship, my people again, and there will be no more mercy.”

  “You are weak,” the man said, spitting at her feet. She just gred at him, silent and angry.

  Nereida had never felt more proud.

  Or more terrified.

  Without wasting another moment, the man dove into the water, disappearing beneath the ocean’s waves. Epelda fell to her knees, tears in her eyes. She began to sign “sorry” over and over, looking at Ael.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Ael whispered, her Admiral persona cracking away as she knelt beside her daughter. “That took more strength than I have.”

  The prisoner gone, the crew began to chat amongst themselves again. The oppressive feeling of fear was blown away in the gentle breeze. Several members of the crew retired below, mostly the older men, who had seen one of their worst fears today. Nereida said goodbye to her daughter, before heading below to say goodbye to her sons and brother. Basiano was fraying already, muttering about little boys who would not stay in the room.

  “Egaz said he went to the garden,” Alejo protested. “He told me the pnts needed some love!”

  “They do!” Egaz crossed his arms and huffed with all the might in his little body. “The apples are sad that Dymion doesn’t tell them stories! And I know where I’m allowed to be, mommy. I’m not a baby.”

  None of the children were precisely happy to see her leave, but they did not argue when she said she was going. However, they did not cry, and Egaz looked far less sad than the st time she had left him. There was something strangely satisfied about his expression, a too-grown expression on a small child. But it faded for a more usual mischievous smile when she knelt to hug him.

  “Don’t let step mama forget what’s in her pocket,” Egaz said. “It will bring her luck!” Nereida grimaced.

  “Did you hide food scraps in her pockets again? Or worms?” she asked, trying not to let worry taint her tone. Ael had found a crushed, dead worm in her pocket not long after they had left the isnd. She had almost lost the contents of her stomach at the feel of it on her hand. The little boy ughed.

  “Not this time. Love you mommy. See you ter!”