And when I was with them... when I was riding on Nammu or even Enki... I was at peace.
Peace because the dragon's essence was pacified. And peace because, despite the fact that Merlin was way older than was natural given my own timeline, I was able to spend time with my son.
And something about my presence gave the wyrms peace, too. They still had natural urges and tempers. They were unpredictable if I wasn't there to keep them focused.
The benefit of my relationship with the wyrms was mutual.
And before any day's patrol, I liked to spend a moment with each one of them. Just to check in. Just to make sure they were happy, content, and willing.
Sure, they bound themselves to me when I saved Enki. But I'd also bound myself to them. I promised Nammu as much. So I couldn't treat them like slaves or pets. I treated the wyrm like equals. I think they appreciated that.
Usually, this was a time I spent with them alone. Only a minute or two with each wyrm. It was generally enough to check in, make sure they were on board, and make sure no wires were crossed in psychic communication channels. We needed to know we could hear each other if things went south while on patrol.
Today, Agwe showed up and put his hand on my shoulder.
"La Sirene," Agwe said.
They'd all grown accustomed to calling me that. All except for Merlin, of course. "You can call me Joni, you know."
Agwe grinned. "Yes, well. If matters were more personal, I might."
I raised an eyebrow. "Well, Admiral Agwe. Would you like things to be more personal between us?"
The Loa blushed. I couldn't believe I'd actually garnered the crush of a demigod! It must've been the tail... the mermen can't resist a good set of fins. And apparently, the Loa can't either.
"Very well, Joni," Agwe said, smiling back at me. "I wanted to say, I'm quite impressed by how well you've taken to this. You really seem like you're in your element."
I huffed. "Only when I'm a mermaid. Otherwise, the element I generally prefer is air."
Agwe snorted. "Not what I meant... I mean here, in old Fomoria..."
I grinned. "I know what you meant, Agwe. I like to joke sometimes when things make me uncomfortable."
Agwe cocked his head. "Why would it make you uncomfortable to hear that you're doing well, that you seem to be a natural here?"
I shrugged. "Because this is temporary, Agwe. No matter how many missions we go on for Balor and the ancients, it's a matter of time before we have to face both the voidbringer spawn and, then, the voidbringer itself."
Agwe put his hand on my back. "Does that terrify you?"
I bit my cheek. "A little. I'd be lying if I said it didn't."
"Me too."
I raised an eyebrow. "You, big bad Admiral Agwe, Loa of the mighty and unruly sea, are scared?"
Agwe nodded. "When we die, when we lose our hosts... we Loa go to the void for a time. Until we can get our grounding and either find a way to spiritually manifest in Guinee, or what you might call Annwn, the Otherworld. Or until we find another host. All I can say is that being in the void, in nonexistence..."
"It sucks, don't it?" I asked.
Agwe laughed. "You could say that again."
"It sucks, don't it?" I asked again.
Agwe furrowed his brow.
"You said I could say it again," I smiled.
"Why is it you're so damn cute?" Agwe asked.
I giggled a little.
"See, like that!"
"What?" I asked.
"That giggle! It's cute!"
"Is not," I said, putting my hands on my hips.
"That's cute, too!"
I huffed. "I'm not going for cute. I'm going for badass Wyrmrider, La Sirene!"
"Unless we're getting personal, right?" Agwe asked as he brushed the backside of his hand against my cheek.
"Right..." I said, leaning in a little closer... was I ready for this? At some point, I had to move on... and I did like Agwe, even though he wasn't exactly human. Something about that, too, was actually a little thrilling. The allure of the taboo, perhaps? But I knew what he wanted.
I parted my lips slightly...
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, momma!" Merlin said, choosing the worst moment possible to show up.
"Merlin!" I said. "What are you doing?"
"Yeah, sorry about that... mental image... trying to erase..."
I smiled. "We weren't doing anything, Merlin."
Merlin sighed. "But you forget, I see the future. And I know what you two are going to do, eventually... and I..."
"Oh really?" Agwe asked. "What exactly are we going to do?"
I slapped Agwe's shoulder with the back of my hand. "Stop, both of you. The last thing I want to do is discuss this stuff in the present company."
"I'll second that," Merlin said. "So gross."
I rolled my eyes. "Come on. I'm still young now."
"Yeah, but you're still my mom. Doesn't matter how pretty you are. To me, it is and always shall be... gross."
"As well it should be," I said with a nod. "But why did you come here anyway?"
"There's something you should come see," Merlin said.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Just come..." Merlin's face was serious now. Whatever he had to show us, it wasn't going to be anything remotely delightful.
I followed him out of the area where we'd "stabled" the wyrm. I use that term loosely. You can't really stable a wyrm. But it was a part of Old Fomoria mostly undeveloped, with a few uninhabited spires where they could chill when we didn't need their services. "What is it you have to show me?" I asked.
"Just a little further," Merlin said.
He didn't have to announce it when I saw it. A spot where one of the spires had been, one that was unfortunately inhabited by a Fomorian family, was now replaced by a black hole. A small, black hole.
Agwe came up behind us. "It's a void portal." Merlin nodded. "I think I can close it before too much damage is done. But can you feel it?"
I nodded. There was a slight sensation. The hole was pulling water into it, almost like a small leak on a water balloon. It would take a while, but it would suck in everything it could eventually if left alone. "I feel it. This means that whoever is possessed, the voidbringer spawn is gaining more control."
Merlin nodded. "And more than that, we can narrow it down to someone inside old Fomoria."
"Did we ever have any reason to expect it might be someone outside of the city?" I asked.
Merlin shook his head. "Not necessarily. But it was always a possibility. At least now we know, for sure, it hasn't jumped out of any of us and found someone else, one of those sailors, perhaps."
I nodded. "Well, then, it looks like our next mission is going to be on the home front. Inside old Fomoria's firmament. But you said this thing could jump from person to person?"
Merlin nodded. "It might. Do you agree, Agwe?"
"It is certainly possible. And if it suspects we're onto it, chances are it will. Since it is from the void itself, a place if you can call it that, outside of time... it can be infinitely patient. It won't think twice about hopping to another host and starting its maturation process all over again."
I nodded. "Well, not like I don't like it here. But I don't think we can take any opportunity for granted. Who else knows about this?" I asked.
"Just us, for now," Merlin said. "But a spire and, presumably, a whole family goes missing..."
"Everyone will know sooner rather than later," I said. "Which means we need to move fast."
30
IT STARTED WITH a single spire.
When shit hits the fan, in my experience, it always starts with little shits. Then, all at once, a big, massive dookie goes flying through the fan and showers the whole room in poop.
Apologies if I took the whole shit hitting the fan thing too far. I mean, as Tahlia would put it, shit was hitting a propeller. Of course, I wasn't speaking literally. I mean, they don't have fans in either Fomoria—the old one or
the new one. And boats with propellers didn't exist yet. Not in ancient Fomoria.
But they had shit—more in the old Fomoria. Not that ancient merpeople shit more than modern folk. But the new Fomoria had sanitation laws. Here, in old Fomoria, shit just floated around until it managed to hit the ancient city's firmament. When it did, it fried, almost like a bug flying into a zapper.
It made for a delightful odor. Even though scents don’t travel as well in water as in air. Eventually, though, I'd grown accustomed to it. But when people speak about the good old days, I don't think they're generally talking about a time before plumbing existed.
But these ancient Fomorians didn't seem to mind it at all. Shit floating around was as natural as anything else in their minds. They'd grown up accustomed to it, I suppose.
Despite how much I enjoyed my time here, it was the one thing I wouldn't miss even a little bit once we went back to our own time.
Where was I before I got sidetracked by shit?
Yeah, hitting the fan... that's how I got off track.
One spire gone. Then another. Balor was evacuating most of the people from their homes. Whoever had the voidbringer spawn inside of them seemed to have a predilection for eradicating spires and nothing else. At least, so far.
It made sense to evacuate the city—the Fomorians would have to brave the surrounding waters, but, all things considered, they could hold their own against most anything the ocean could throw at them short of the Kraken, which we'd already dealt with. The Kraken was basically a massive squid. And the thing had a hankering for Fomorian. But so far as Balor knew, the one we took out was the only one that had ever been seen. The damn thing had terrorized the city for a half-century or more before we arrived.
But now, whatever was most dangerous was likely inside the city.
"You can't evacuate everyone at once," I said.
"Why not?" King Balor said, staring at me through his solitary eye.
"Because if you take everyone out, we won't be able to figure out who is possessed."
"Take out a few at a time," Agwe suggested. "And if another spire falls to a void portal, we'll know that we can eliminate anyone who left as a suspect."
"And Merlin is still here to take care of the void portals as they show," I added.
Balor huffed. "And how many of our spires must fall before we catch the thing?"
"We can't say for sure," Agwe said.
Balor shook his head. "Then methinks it makes more sense to evacuate everyone. Spare the city. Outside the city, there will be less damage."
"True," I said. "But we have a lead on the voidbringer spawn now. If everyone is evacuated and, presumably, whoever is the one possessed leaves too, then there's no telling what it will do if there are no more spires around to consume."
"I do not care what it does," Balor said. "So long as it does not destroy my kingdom!"
"But what if it decides to swallow up all the Fomorian people," I said. "Is saving spires more important than saving lives?"
"Of course not," Balor said. "But you do not know if the void spawn will do what you say."
I nodded. "Of course I don't. And that's the point. Once it's out of the city, it will be unpredictable. At least now we know what it's up to. We know what to look for."
"Void spawn," I said. "That's easier to say than voidbringer spawn. I like it."
Balor scratched his wrinkled spot. "Does the name matter?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, sort of. I think it helps if you're trying to defeat something to at least have a name for it."
"Why does that help one bit?" Balor asked. "What you call it does not change what it is."
I nodded. "You're right. But it might, in subtle subconscious ways, impact the way I approach it. I mean, say we named the thing Rainbow Sparkles."
"Why would we do that? That makes no sense to Balor." Balor's face was contorted. Clearly, my line of reasoning was befuddling to him.
"It's just an example," I said through a grin. "Not a very threatening name, right?"
"Not in the least," Balor said.
I nodded. "So we'd probably underestimate it. Even if we didn't mean to."
"This is an interesting strategy, me think." Balor smiled.
I shrugged. "I don't know how much of a difference it makes."
"So me should tell the whole city cuddle bumps is here, and they need to evacuate," Balor said and nodded.
"Cuddle bumps?" I asked. "I don't think you were following my point."
"Me follow exactly, Miss Joni! Me first wanted to evacuate the whole city at once. Me thinks if I tell them cuddle bumps is upon them, there might only be a few who evacuate. They will leave with a trickle as you wish."
"Actually not bad," I said, chuckling. "But that might not be very terrifying. If you tell them that I'm betting no one evacuates."
Balor snorted. "Good point, Miss Joni. Me not call it cuddle bumps."
Balor floated off and pulled one of his generals aside. "Tell everyone smoochie kins is here, and they must leave the city until it is contained."
"Smoochie kins?" I asked.
Balor turned around, grinning. "Scarier than cuddle bumps. Not so terrifying as void spawn."
I rolled my eyes. "You think smoochie kins is scarier than cuddle bumps?"
Balor nodded. "My grandmother always called me smoochie kins. And it was always followed by very sloppy kisses. As a boy, it was terrifying."
I smirked. I wasn't entirely sure Balor understood the concept. But he was trying. I suppose, if we didn't want everyone to evacuate at once, it couldn't hurt. Send them running like children trying to evade a sloppy granny kiss. On the other hand, there was a chance some might find that more terrifying than void spawn.
Balor looked back at his general, who, by the look on his face, was more confused than calf on a bull's teat. "Do what I said. Tell the city smoochie kins is upon us. Me think a good half of the city will run in horror, and the other half will look like you and not know what to do."
The general cocked his head to the side. "Yes, sir."
"Or, you could tell them the void spawn is upon us and see what happens," Balor said.
The general's face went from a brow furrowed in total perplexity to eyes wide and jaw-dropped abject horror in less than a second.
"No, sir," the general replied. "Smoochie kins will do."
Balor nodded and left with his general.
I snorted. At least we had that covered. Balor wasn't an awful king, all things considered. Perhaps not the deepest thinker. A little strange, for sure. He was, in many ways, the opposite of King Conand. With Conand, it always felt like he had some kind of scheme he was cooking, some plan only he was privy to. But he was a handsome merman. He could deceive you with his charm. Balor had less charisma than he had eyeballs. But at least with him, you know what he was thinking. He wore his truth on his sleeve. And in some ways, I think, an honest and benevolent, but simple-minded, king is preferable to one who hides behind a façade, even if he is intelligent and strategically minded.
But, I suppose, different times call for different kings. And, if nothing else, these were simpler times.
Balor had to handle Fomorian-human relations differently than King Conand did in the modern Fomoria. Indeed, humans were more aware of Fomorians' existence in ancient times. However, these humans posed less a direct threat to the Fomorians than modern ones with their nuclear submarines and other forms of naval warfare. Not that the humans couldn't be a threat. From what I knew, at some point, a clan of humans would defeat the Fomorians—but only on a land battle. Suppose the modern-day humans knew of the existence of a merkingdom in the Caribbean. In that case, they'd have the ability to take the war to the Fomorian home front. Like I was saying—different times require different strategies. This favors kings or queens with different strengths.
Balor's reservations to evacuate were understandable. He didn't want to see his city destroyed. Sure, saving lives was more important. That's why he ul
timately agreed, I think, to evacuate. But livelihood is important, too.
We had to save the city, even while Balor did everything he could to protect its people.
And he was trusting the Wyrmriders to do precisely that.
31
WHEN I WAS a little girl, my cousins and I decided we would stay up late one Christmas Eve and try to see Santa Clause. But my momma said Santa was a bit shy. If we were still up, he wouldn't show.
Granted, the whole thing was a ruse since Santa didn't exist. But the same idea seemed to apply as the other Wyrmriders and I patrolled the city looking for evidence of the void spawn.
Only this thing wasn't shy on account of trying to sneak presents into the city. The void spawn was attempting to destroy Fomoria. End this Fomoria then, it stood to reason, the modern-day Fomoria and the only thing that stood in the way of the voidbringer from consuming the rest of the world would be out of the way.
We were patrolling without the wyrm. Trying to be inconspicuous. We broke off in pairs. Agwe with Cleo, Merlin with Balor, and I was with Tahlia. We'd alternate patrol partners next round. It was Agwe's idea. Any one of us could be the one possessed, hence the use of partners. And by swapping partners between rounds, if any of us figured our partner was the one possessed by the void spawn, we could wait to report it at the following partner swap. If any of us, alone, identified the void spawn and confronted it... well, that could be dangerous. This approach was meant to minimize such risks. Because, while we didn't know exactly how powerful this thing was, being alone with it was risky and even riskier for whoever figured out the void spawn's true identity.
It was a fairly brilliant idea, in truth—credit Agwe for the suggestion. In my estimation, it was also one of many reasons why it would have made more sense if Agwe, rather than me, was the designated leader. He knew more about these things. He had more experience than I did—not only when it came to combat and espionage-type situations but also with virtually anything. Mainly because I was barely an adult. And he'd existed, in one form or another, since some point before Noah's flood. But alas, he insisted as much as the rest that I was the leader of the Wyrmriders.
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