by Lexi Ander
Upon seeing Mestor help Shaneva onto Sohm’lan’s lap, Canry reached out, beseeching Mestor to take him. Grinning, Mestor moved closer and grabbed Canry under the arms.
“Be careful, now,” Sohm’lan cautioned even as he helped Mestor hold Canry.
Azaes forgot about showing off his barely-there barbs and moved to Mestor’s side, wrapping his arms around them both.
“We must guard Canry in the Waters.” Azaes’ earlier enthusiasm was now subdued.
“Why is that?” Sohm’lan leaned forward in the swing, his big hand almost covering Shaneva’s entire back as he held her securely to his chest.
Azaes’ face scrunched. “I… he is so small, and the Waters of Poseidon are vast.”
Mestor agreed. The tutor said the oceans covered seventy percent of Atlainticia. He was not sure exactly how much that really was, but when he looked out the sleeping chamber window, he only saw water all the way out to where the moons kissed the sea.
“Canry is so small. He could get lost.”
Sohm’lan made a noise and smiled. “No one has ever been lost in the Waters of Poseidon. Besides, there will be many people present, including your meme’s family and your father’s extended family, when Canry is introduced into the Waters. The Basilisc and the Monticore will be there as well for protection. They are clearing the inlet of predators as we speak.
“And you!” Mestor enthusiastically volunteered, then yelped as Canry kicked to get down.
Once on the floor, Canry crawled to the open pen, squealing when he touched the sand. Mestor followed, he and Azaes herding Canry along the way.
“Yes,” Sohm’lan confirmed. “I will be there along with some People of the Longing from Seuth.”
Seuth was the underwater citiplex that was some distance offshore from Thrace. Father promised to take them when they were strong enough to swim the leagues. Boats were only used by fishermen and were never allowed to pass over the citiplexes. Mestor was not sure why, but most people swam to where they needed to go.
He almost fell over when Azaes pushed him. “What?” he exclaimed.
“I asked you if—” Azaes yelled, standing on his toes before squirming. The motion pulled the tip of his tail from Canry’s mouth. Canry screeched and threw up his hands, laughing.
“He bit me!” Azaes said, astonished and holding his tail to his chest.
Mestor smirked and slid onto the sand next to Canry. “Well, you did push me.”
“You were seaweed-gathering and not listening to me!” Azaes leaped, landing on him.
Canry yelled excitedly, bouncing up and down. Mestor rolled them away from their little brother. The sand scraping against his scales felt great. He giggled and pressed Azaes down, pushing. The sand flowed over Azaes, burying him to the neck. Surging up, Azaes flipped him, grit going everywhere as they wrestled. Canry cheered and clapped. Sohm’lan laughed from the corner swing. Mestor felt as if he could fly.
“What are my little bulls doing?”
Mestor popped his head out of the sand, looking for Meme. She stood near the entrance, dressed in the plain palace robes she usually wore when she went swimming.
“Meme!” Mestor said in unison with Azaes.
He ran to her, whistling and singing in greeting. She bent to one knee and pressed her forehead first to his and then Azaes’, her laugh was light and sounded so wonderful that he demanded another head bump from her.
“Where are your clothes?” their father asked, hands on his hips. He wore a similar robe to Meme’s.
He hopped to his father, trying to use his tail to boost himself higher, but instead he slanted sideways. Father caught him mid-air before he accidentally shot out of the door. He whistled a greeting to his father, wrapping his arms around his neck.
“Look!” Azaes spun around, almost hitting Meme in the face with his tail, and flexed, showing off the little heads of his barely-existent barbs. Mestor snorted.
“Oh, look at that, Valdor, Azaes’ spines are starting to show.” Meme’s voice was full of approval, suddenly making Mestor wish his barbs were showing too. But he had checked that morning and had found nothing.
His father rubbed his back as if sensing his disgruntlement. Giving in to the desire, he snuggled against his father’s chest as if he were four summers old. Canry squealed happily, throwing sand as he rolled around.
“Are you ready to go?” Father asked as Meme rose to her feet.
“It is almost time.” She crossed to pick up Canry.
“Come here, Azaes.” Shaneva still cradled in one arm, Sohm’lan motioned and Azaes ran, forgetting to walk, to him. The room had very few pieces of furniture, so his tail did not smash anything before Sohm’lan picked him up and rose to his full height.
Outside the room waited the nannies. Mestor almost hissed at their sour faces. The scary and awesome Elite Honor Guard, the Monticore, surrounded them, their expressions blank. The only garment they wore was a short wrap around their waists, but they rattled with the numerous weapons attached to the harnesses across their backs and chests.
The halls were vacant except for the Basilisc, who bristled with as much weaponry as the Monticore. He wondered where everyone was. The palace usually bustled with activity and, with today being Canry’s first introduction to the Waters of Poseidon, he had expected the palace to be teeming with well-wishers. He was getting angry on Canry’s behalf, but then they stepped outside and the roar of the gathered crowd made his ears ring.
Barriers were erected at the top of the slope leading to the palace beach. Meme stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to wave at the crowd. The people cheered louder. It was impossible for him to hear anything else and he buried his face against his father’s neck, hands over his earholes. He sensed they were descending the three sets of stairs quickly and the crowd noise lessened, the soothing crash of the waters replaced the raucous noise.
When he lifted his head, they were relatively alone again, the spectators at a distance. The Monticore spread out, half discarding the wraps before wading into the Waters. Sohm’lan issued orders, leaving Azaes and Shaneva with Father. The inlet had been cleared of danger but the Monticore would double check.
Once the all clear was given, Mestor wiggled. Father set him on his feet. He raced to Azaes and Shaneva, taking Shaneva’s hand as they watched Meme wade slowly into the Waters until she was waist deep. Canry squealed and splashed as she set him upon the water.
“Come on,” Father said, ushering Mestor and his siblings into the rolling waves. They swam together to Meme’s and Canry’s side. Mestor glanced around for Sohm’lan. The nannies were close by, within the protective circle the Monticore made around his family, but he could not find his waterfather until he looked up to the nearest banister-less balcony, where Sohm’lan look down, watching over everyone.
Prodded by his father, Mestor joined his family as they all surrounded Canry. Meme held onto his little brother until Mestor took his place, then she let Canry go. He immediately sank, and Mestor followed him below the surface, worried Canry would not know how to breathe or swim even though Meme promised he would.
She was not wrong. Canry swam in circles, his body moving fluidly unlike when he was on land. Azaes zipped over to Canry, staying by his side. Until they were old enough, they were not allowed to swim alone, and even then he knew they would always be with their guard. Even so, they had agreed beforehand that they would split up. Azaes would stay with Canry while Mestor swam with Shaneva. He would have rather swam with Canry because he had to work hard to keep up with his sister. On land she waddled, but in the Waters, she was fast and graceful. But for some reason Azaes was adamant, and Mestor went along with what his twin wanted.
As the minutes ticked by Mestor felt… Funny. Perhaps Shaneva felt something too. When he asked her to slow down, she did. Then she swam close enough that they were constantly touching. It was almost like the time they swam with their parents farther out in the cove and a pod of whales passed nearby.
When he searched for his twin, Azaes had pushed Canry to the surface near Meme and was circling them protectively. Thinking that was a good idea, Mestor led Shaneva over to their father. When they surfaced, the song of greeting from the distant crowd filled the air. Canry was gurgling and squealing happily as he splashed Meme. The watching crowd rippled with laughter at Canry’s antics. He dove back into the water. Seconds later, a… a… Mestor did not know what he sensed. He felt as if he was being pushed, then pulled, and his scales squished tight.
Crying out in alarm, sure something was going to eat him, Mestor grabbed Shaneva, wrapping an arm around her even as he scrambled to grab Father’s utility belt. Meme dived, then Azaes surfaced, wailing. The Monticore dove as fear-filled voices of the spectators exclaimed loudly. A roar from above drew Mestor’s eye. Sohm’lan dove in an arc, piercing the water near Meme. Pandemonium broke out.
“Azaes!” Valdor called. “Come to me now!” Mestor and Shaneva were suddenly out of the water and in Father’s arms.
Azaes was crying. “Help him, Father!”
“Poseidon’s balls.” Valdor swore, shoving Shaneva and Mestor into the arms of one of the nannies before he lunged for Azaes. “Monticore!” he bellowed. “My young!”
Mestor was taken from the nanny, as was Shaneva. He clung to the neck of his guard, barely breathing a sigh of relief when Azaes was hauled into Father’s arms before he was handed off to another guard. The air shivered when Meme surfaced, screaming. Mestor searched for Sohm’lan and was again relieved when his waterfather surfaced next to Meme.
“Canry,” Sohm’lan bellowed. Others took up the call, many diving along with Meme, then their father.
Mestor trembled with every desperate call. Shaneva’s face was pressed to the neck of the Monticore holding her. Azaes cried, the sounds he made wrenching Mestor’s heart. He scanned the water’s surface, searching for any sign of his younger brother. Meme’s frantic calling shredded his nerves. Sohm’lan’s desperate bellows filled the air each time he surfaced. Father barked orders like a general at war, ordering the crowd to be dispersed, calling for aircraft to search overhead, and more guards to search farther out. Basilisc and Monticore raced down the staircase from the palace, diving from the overhead balconies. They searched closer to the mouth of the private inlet. He saw the shapes of dark bodies heading out to sea as they widened the search area. The salty air was no longer a welcoming balm but sat on the back of his tongue, bitter and cloying.
Mestor mewled as the Monticore moved for the shoreline. Azaes shrieked. He worried as his twin fought the guard’s hold. “No! I have to stay! I have to look for my brother!” Azaes raged, his tail smacking against his protector.
“Be calm, Prince Azaes,” the Monticore soothed in a gravelly voice. “Little Prince Canry will be found. Have no worries. But we must get you and your siblings to safety, so they do not worry about losing you as well.”
Azaes whimpered and Mestor patted his guard on the shoulder. “I want my twin,” he implored, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision.
Thankfully, the Monticore holding Azaes gave him over and he wrapped his arms around his brother. Azaes squeezed him back as he shivered and cried. When they emerged from the water, a dozen Monticore surrounded them and they were hustled up the stairs. He shielded Azaes’ face as he watched the search over the guard’s shoulder. Meme’s wails of despair. Sohm’lan’s enraged bellows. His father’s silent but frantic diving. Every sound, every motion would forever be burned into his memory.
They returned to the nursery and piled on Shaneva’s small bed. He and Azaes cuddled her protectively. The two Monticore who carried them into the palace sat on the floor next to the sleeping platform, holding hands with them, sometimes petting Mestor or his siblings. Even though they were inside, well away from the Waters, Mestor swore he could still hear Canry’s name being called.
Sohm’lan shuddered, crying silently as Mestor and Azaes held him. That infamous day changed them all in some way. As an adult, and knowing Sohm’lan’s history, he could only imagine how Sohm’lan had felt. He had lost his mate and youngling summers earlier and then Canry disappeared. Meme swore her tie to him had not been cut, that Canry lived, but even with the lack of blood in the water, most people believed their little brother had been taken by a predator that had slipped by those guarding the mouth of the cove.
Meme’s grief over Canry’s disappearance almost stole her from them. Mestor remembered sneaking by the nannies to one of the balconies overlooking the inlet. He watched as Meme spent hours in the water, searching. Sometimes Sohm’lan or his father joined her. Her attendants were always nearby and at times hoisted her exhausted body to the beach. As time dragged on, Meme became more withdrawn.
Mestor did not like to think about those days. Sohm’lan was quiet, not laughing or smiling. Their father worked until he passed out from exhaustion. Meme cried and then she too became silent. Even Azaes was sullen and withdrawn. If they escaped their rooms, it was always to go to the Waters. Sometimes they even made it down to the beach where Azaes would dive deep and Mestor followed to protect his twin. At least until the Monticore caught on and would be waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.
Then Zeus came into their lives. Soft-skinned, fuzzy-headed, tailless Zeus. Meme’s focus changed and though she missed and mourned Canry’s absence, Zeus’s presence helped to bring her back to them. She stopped fading and began living again.
Zeus’s charm also worked on Sohm’lan. Sometimes when he and Azaes had slipped down to the nursery in the middle of the night, Sohm’lan would already be there, swinging with Zeus in the corner, feeding him the compatible milk their father had found to supplement the milk from Meme. Even though Zeus helped the family heal, bringing them back together, Canry’s absence left an emotional scar. Mestor tightened the hold he had on the two bulls in his arms. Sohm’lan’s wracking sobs and Azaes’ silent tears were evidence of that.
“Canry was the one to pull Zeus into the Dream,” Azaes murmured. “Warning Zeus about the danger in Valespian space and telling him who he needed to go to for help. Canry is not how we remember him—not the part about him being a grown bull.” Sohm’lan snorted and choked slightly, and Azaes smiled, wiping his face on his sleeve as he stepped away.
“We expected him to look like us,” Mestor continued for Azaes. “His skin, scales, and coloring are much different, though his barbs are still red.”
Sohm’lan pulled away, and he reluctantly let him go. Sohm’lan turned his back as he put himself back together, peppering them with questions, some they could not answer since they were only allowed a few minutes with Canry before they left the Dream.
“What do you mean allowed?” Sohm’lan snapped. When he finally faced them, he was himself again. Austere, composed, and with that impenetrable mask that Mestor was beginning to hate.
“From what we were told, his mentor, Nethus, would not let him return to us,” Azaes replied.
“But Poseidon said Canry could come home. That he was not supposed to be kept from us. That tailless skink,” he added with a hiss. “I cannot wait to get my claws into him again.”
“I want to know why he did, especially since Poseidon said Canry’s relationship to us, to his people, was important.” Azaes grabbed the bag of candied grasshoppers and shoved a handful into his mouth, chewing angrily.
“Poseidon?” Sohm’lan bent over and placed his palms upon his knees, breathing quickly. “By all that is… Do you know how strange that sounds?”
Mestor rubbed circles above Sohm’lan’s tail, careful to stay out of the way of its agitated swishing. He was a little worried about this display of shock, when normally Sohm’lan weathered such things with calm aplomb. When he straightened, Mestor directed him back to the table, and they all retook their seats. No one said anything as Azaes shared the treat bag with him, and they both watched Sohm’lan carefully.
“As much as I would rather take time to adjust to this new information about Canry and P
oseidon, I cannot. More secrets need to be brought into the light.” Sohm’lan scrubbed his hands over his face.
“Secrets?” Mestor asked, sensing that Sohm’lan needed a change of subject. “Are you referring to what Father signaled to you about House Cordyl?”
“Yes. Your father has given me permission to finally talk to you about Timsah Gadrius,” Sohm’lan confirmed, straightening in his chair. “He and I have spent the last five summers gathering information about House Cordyl with the assistance of an inside informant.” Sohm’lan sighed as if exhausted, shoulders slumping under a heavy weight.
Mestor perked up. Back at the space station, Azaes had confronted Zeus about the week he had gone missing. The family had frantically searched for him. After it was confirmed that he arrived at the space station, ugly rumors had circulated about Zeus coming to harm at the hands of his best friend’s family. Mestor and Azaes had been able to unearth some information, since Rathmar had been overheard bragging to youths of houses allied with House Cordyl. Though Mestor beat Rathmar, Zeus’s best friend had refused to fight back or tell Mestor what happened.
Sohm’lan ran a hand over his face. “You are not going to like what I have to say, but I would ask that you wait for me to finish before you do anything.”
Mestor thumped his tail on the floor, already agitated and girding himself against the foreboding that blanketed Sohm’lan’s expression.
Chapter Eight
