Chapter 8

  The deck was mostly dry now, and the sails had been unfurled, catching the gentle breeze. The pale white canvas was stretched out in the breeze with no fpping about. There were no birds in the sky, just a few lonely clouds that drifted far above. A peaceful day, perfect for travel. The crew were mostly zing about, recovering from the storm. Nereida waved to a few before she ducked into the Captain’s Cabin.

  It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the interior, as half the curtains were still drawn. Nereida blinked a few times. Ael sat at her desk, a pillow behind her back. Her hair was still pited, but only one with one braid now, as her head was wrapped in bandages.

  “Come in,” her voice was hoarse sounding as well. “I’ve sent Epelda for tea but she may be a while.” Nereida approached the desk, and dropped gracelessly into the wooden chair. Her bones still ached, and she was disinclined to put on airs at the moment.

  “You sent for me, Grand Admiral?” She watched for signs in Ael’s face, looking for a hint. A faint smile lifted the left corner of Ael’s mouth, and her eyes sparkled slightly, until a sudden wince brought the amusement to a sudden halt.

  Nereida jumped to her feet, but the Admiral waved her back.

  “I feel like I’ve been kicked by a mule,” she muttered. “But it could have been worse.” Ael rubbed her forehead gently, wincing as she did.

  “If you have turmeric in your spice stocks, it can be brewed as a tea. That may help with the headaches,” Nereida offered quietly. There was a fsh of gratitude on the other woman’s face before it disappeared behind a mask of indifference.

  “Many thanks. Now… I received a report this morning on your conduct during the storm.” Nereida felt her insides turn to ice. She kept breathing, ignoring her instincts that told her to run. The oath had not permitted speaking to anyone but had she unintentionally allowed him to write it down?

  “Oh?” she kept her reply light and airy, almost innocent. A trick learned at her mother’s side for dealing with nobles. Let them think they know more than you. She could almost hear it in her mother’s voice.

  “Your first instinct when the lightning struck was to throw yourself over Epelda. Why?” The Admiral’s tone was careful and measured to sound neutral. Nereida looked across the rge desk, trying to decide if it was Ael or the Grand Admiral asking. Was it the heart or the armour asking the question?

  “She’s a child,” Nereida replied, settling on the truth. She pced her hands on the oak desk. “I didn’t think about it. I just reacted.” The oak was well sanded, the grain unforgiving. There was ornamentation around the edges that she had not noticed st night, and gold gilding that had become worn where hands or cleaning had rubbed it away. A well used desk that would have been very expensive. She finally gnced up and found a fond smile on Ael’s face. Relief washed over her.

  “Thank you.” The tone was raw. She started to wonder if her boys had the right of it. Did Ael consider herself Epelda’s mother?

  There was a moment of stillness between them, where they both simply were content to observe the other, when Evander walked in with tea on a silver tray. His eyes flickered to Nereida, a touch of fear still evident in them, but he gave her a welcoming smile and pced the tea in front of her.

  “Admiral, ma’am, Epelda was needed on deck to relieve the nest for a bit. Can I get ya anything?”

  “No, thank you,” the Admiral replied crisply. He gave a little half bow and retreated out. Ael sighed deeply.

  “You have good people,” Nereida observed softly. Ael’s eyes snapped to hers. They were a pale hazel, and quite lovely to look at, like the sand on the beach.

  “I do,” Ael’s smile was small and private, but it did reach her eyes. “You aren’t so bad yourself. You’d be a reasonable addition to my crew.” Nereida beamed a smile back, recognizing the high praise for what it was. She felt a slight heat creep into her face as Ael looked at her. Recognizing the feeling, she pushed it down. It was loneliness calling out, not true connection. She was not going to fall for the Admiral! What a political nightmare that would be!

  “Now, reports also say you had to be carried into your room by Evander.” The Admiral began to bluster about with papers on the desk, as if she had heard Nereida’s thoughts.

  “I strained something,” Nereida replied, less truthfully but as close to truth as she could manage. “I’m on the mend.”

  “As long as you were not severely injured. That’s a debt I would not want.”

  “No debt would be cimed,” Nereida replied fiercely. “Who I choose to protect is my business.” Ael lifted her hands in surrender.

  “I’m not here to fight.” She pushed her chair back, scraping it across the floor and slowly stood. The woman wobbled a little and had to steady herself on her desk. The colour drained from her face.

  Nereida rushed to Ael’s side, helping her to the bed. The four-poster bed had the curtains thrown open.

  “What am I here for, if not to fight?” Nereida asked with a small smile. She meant to tease but then realized she had just sat the other woman on a bed, that her comment may have been read as flirtatious. Heat rushed to her cheeks and it took all her strength not to look away. Luckily, Ael seemed to miss the implication, or she simply ignored it.

  “If you want a spot on the crew, it’s yours,” the Admiral replied softly. “Nothing gmorous, mind you, you’ll be a deckhand like Epelda.” She was looking right at Nereida, her face a careful study of neutrality. She might well have been made of marble, except for a stray hair that had escaped her braid and curled around her cheek.

  “I..” she wanted to say yes, at least a part of her. Her heart wanted to stay on the ocean. “Until I can go home?”

  “Of course,” was the reply, though there was a fluttering of emotion across the Admiral’s face that Nereida could not read. Her heart felt heavy, as if she had somehow disappointed Ael.

  “Then yes.” Nereida grinned. “It will be an honour working for you.” The Admiral grunted but looked pleased.

  “Off you pop then; help the cook with breakfast and you can take your boys out in the afternoon. The weather’s clear.”

  “A fine wind and a following sea.” Nereida smiled softly. “By your leave, Admiral?” At the woman’s curt nod, Nereida left, a little more bounce in her step.

  The boys were all too pleased to head to the kitchen with her. Basiano was pleased to have the cabin to himself; the boys, while well behaved, were far more rambunctious than court-raised children. She had tried to give them every freedom possible. But it made for loud children who asked questions.

  Her father was going to have kittens when he met them. She grinned at the idea.

  “Why’re you smiling mama?” Alejo asked as he carefully peeled a potato. He was going slowly, his little tongue resting on his lip as he concentrated on not slipping.

  “Oh, I simply had a funny thought about kittens.” She smiled at him and kept chopping. The knife was sharp and made quick work of each potato her sons handed her. The boys were at her feet, peeling as they sat on the floor, holding potatoes up to her whenever they were done. The cook was at the stove, making porridge for breakfast.

  “Ouch!” Little Egaz hissed in pain. Nereida looked down and saw her youngest sucking on his finger. Tears rolled down his chubby cheeks.

  “Oh little love, let me see.”

  “I’ve got it mama,” Alejo said, putting down his peeling knife on the table. He took his brother’s hands, and pced cute little kisses on each finger. When he got to the bloodied finger, he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Nereida felt her stomach drop as Alejo kissed the tiny cut and the cut disappeared. Egaz looked at his brother, tears slowing, before he threw his arms around Alejo’s neck with a cheerful squeal.

  “It doesn’t hurt anymore!”

  Nereida had to remind herself to breathe. She had been ten when her magic had bubbled to the surface. Alejo was not quite seven!

  “Mommy’s almost done,” she said softly. They could not know her panic, not now, not with the cook only a few paces away. “Why don’t you two head back to the cabin and py your dice game?”

  “Can we?”

  “Yes, Alejo. Run along, loves. Mommy will see you shortly.” Neither child had to be told twice, and they scampered out of the kitchen.

  Leaving early was not an option, but she knew that Basiano would keep them in the cabin. She rarely sent them anywhere alone; he’d know something was different. Chopping the remaining potatoes for supper’s stew was almost painful. She wanted to rush to her baby boy, expin why it was dangerous, expin why he had to keep his gift hidden. She had not been expecting this conversation until she had to broach other subjects of manhood.

  She could smell the porridge boiling over, the rattling pot lid a sign of ignored food. She gnced back at the cook, but he was smoking his pipe in the farthest corner. She checked a sigh; she could not alienate anyone on the ship. There were three hundred and some souls on the ship, but only two dedicated cooks. She certainly would not give the person in charge of her food a reason to hate her. So she headed to the huge cauldron and stirred it.

  “Take some to your spouts,” the cook said zily. “Y’all managed to get me ahead of schedule. And the ds’ll be hungry.”

  “Thanks,” she said, giving him a smile and grabbing bowls for her whole family. When the older gentleman gave her a little nod, she tossed spoons into her apron pockets and filled each bowl, bancing them precariously.

  Nereida waited until her boys had eaten their breakfast before she got into hard conversations. The bowls scraped clean and piled in the corner for the moment, Nereida gathered her children on her bed.

  “Is this a trouble chat mama?” Alejo asked, leaning into her and blinking big eyes up at her.

  “Yes and no,” she sighed. She looked up at Basiano who leaned against the outer wall. “You should sit too.”

  Basiano lowered himself to the floor. He held out his arms to the youngest, who cheerfully climbed up.

  “Is this to do with Egaz’s finger?” His tone was soft and gentle, the hearth fire welcoming them home.

  “Yes.” Nereida let out a long breath, gathering her thoughts. “Tell them the story of the foundling princess.” Basiano’s mouth pressed into a firm line. She stared at him until his shoulders sagged.

  “No it’s a prince,” Alejo interrupted. “The baby in the fire cave!”

  “No, sweet boy.” Nereida slid her obsidian bracelet off. She picked up her soaked boots and pced them in front of her, before motioning to Basiano to begin.

  “Once, there was a Prince and Princess who loved their children more than anything in the world,” Basiano began. His voice was calm but he would not look at any of them. “They had three little boys. By all accounts they were happy, though they longed for a daughter. Then, one day, the Princess fell pregnant. Her family celebrated. But it was not to be; though the Princess finally had her daughter, the daughter was born sleeping.”

  Basiano paused, his voice rough with emotion. The boys were silent and still, and Alejo had tears in his eyes, likely as he recalled the mb on their farm that had been born “sleeping”. Alejo reached for his mother’s hand and she held it tightly. Egaz looked down at his toes, his little bottom lip trembling.

  “The Princess was inconsoble. For seven days and seven nights she wept in her bed and would see no one. Not her husband, not her sons. And on the seventh day, she had had enough. The pain was too great. And the fire-born princess left the castle under the cover of night to greet the ocean.

  “The waves were calm when she arrived. She removed her shoes and her wedding band, pcing the ring in the shoes so it would be found. And she walked into the ocean and started to call on her magic. She wanted the ocean to quench her and end her suffering forever. For if a fire-born dies to water, their soul will not return in a new life. They will simply be undone.

  “But her anguish quieted when she heard a sound over the waves. A crying infant. She followed the sound even as the water began to cause her pain, and found a baby, a tiny newborn no more than a week old. The baby girl was swaddled in blue cloth that was soaked with sea water.

  “The princess picked up the gift from the gods, held her, fed her. She loved the baby the moment she y eyes on her… and did not meet her end in the sea.

  But as the miracle princess grew, the princess had to hide more and more about the girl’s existence. The little girl had hair of blue, not bck or red as is common among our people. She swam more easily than her brothers, even the eldest who had seven years on her.” A fond smile pyed in Basiano’s face for a moment, his tone lighter than it had been. “The Princess had a servant who dyed the girl’s hair a dark bck. No one knew how special the little girl was. Until one day, when the three brothers were climbing trees. The oldest fell and broke his arm. The little girl ran forward, and was there before any adult even knew there was a problem. Acting on instinct, she used the waters from a nearby fountain to heal the break. The three boys suddenly realized the truth. Their sister was not fire-born like them, but water born.” He paused for a moment, his expression far away. Both little boys held their breath. “Water born are known as Sirens.”

  Alejo’s grip on Nereida’s hand became almost painful.

  “But sirens are bad,” he whimpered. “Gus and Killian told me stories about them.”

  “We aren’t bad, little one,” Nereida said softly. She kissed his head. “But if your magic is here it won’t be long before you start to change.” She motioned to the wet boots on the floor. She slid the obsidian bracelet off her wrist and concentrated on the water inside the boot. She whispered to it, her tone even, her words merely a focus and not the power. All the water lifted from the boots. With careful control, she made the water move to the empty washbasin. Her sons both stared with mouths agape. Egaz bounced in his uncle’s p, cpping. Alejo lost his colour.

  “Gus said all Sirens are crazy. That they drown people. I don’t wanna do that!”

  “Love, mommy is a Siren. And I am not mad.” The not quite seven year old boy stared at her as if she were a puzzle he could solve. She brushed her fingers gently along his face. His bottom lip trembled as if he were about to cry. “Alejo, you are Water born, but that does not mean you will go mad. Our power doesn’t hurt our minds.” She picked up her bracelet. She’d worn it since she was sixteen, a way for her power to be muted, hidden from sight. Her mother had done intricate rune work on the interior. Basiano had one to match, for when he’d been a teenager and prone to explosions of temper that brought on explosions of another kind.

  Basiano seemed to catch her thoughts; he always did.

  “Nerry….” He spoke her name in a warning tone.

  “Brother… you remember what I was like. Soft hearted, I wanted to heal everyone.” He nodded, closing his eyes in surrender. “Alejo… you will need to wear this except when mommy can teach you.” She slipped it around his wrist. “These are sailors Alejo. You can’t use your gifts where they can see.”

  “Gus said sailors gut sirens like fish,” Alejo whispered sullenly. Nereida swallowed her anger and her fear. That prejudiced little boy was far, far away now. She heard the ocean’s song. She forced the memory of the boy from her head. She would not doom the boy for words he aped from his parents. The ocean could not know him.

  Alejo squirmed and tried to take the bracelet off. Panic filled his eyes for a moment. Nereida pulled her son into a hug, held him tight against her until he calmed and his breathing steadied.

  “I can’t hear the music anymore,” Alejo whispered sadly.

  “I know love. The price for your safety is loneliness.” She kissed his head. “I’ll make time for you every day to take it off.” The little boy leaned into her and sobbed. Her heart broke holding her son, knowing she could not protect him or heal this wound for him.