by Lexi Ander
As her playing wound down, he entered the pit with a towel to retrieve her. Then he crossed to the corner swing, settling in and leaning back, letting it sway gently. Matsya sprawled on her stomach across his chest, her hair-like tentacles falling over her dark brown scales. How many times had he cradled young this way over the summers? Zeus with his downy hair tickling Sohm’lan’s nose. Shaneva, Mestor, and Azaes, sometimes individually and sometimes together. At one time his torso was large enough to cuddle them all. Even Canry had rested against him like so, trusting Sohm’lan to keep him safe.
Unwanted, he remembered how Canry had disappeared. Now knowing the how and the why would never lessen the horror of that day. When he thought of his foster daughter disappearing, whether while swimming or in the crowds of a busy market, the thought made him sick to his stomach. The days and weeks he had desperately searched for Canry ripped through him, stealing his breath. Then he imagined that being Matsya. Sometime before returning home with her, she had become his daughter. There was no doubt in his mind that he and Tori would officially adopt her. If he was honest with himself, she had been his from the first time he saw her, and she chose him to shelter and comfort her. The knowledge that the Numina were attempting to reacquire her both horrified and enraged him. He would not live through losing another youngling. If she disappeared, he would drain Atlainticia’s oceans looking for her.
Something had to be done soon about the Numina. He was growing more paranoid by the day. Was the Numina retrieval team Tori had arrested the only one looking for her? What would the Numina do when they did not report in? The situation was a powder keg ready to explode, and he worried that he would once again fail to protect those he loved. They needed to find Poseidon, soon, and they were quickly running out of time.
Chapter Forty
Sohm’lan
* * *
Sohm’lan reluctantly watched Tori walk down the hallway the next morning. As much as he wanted to keep his amor close, it was not feasible, and it would be foolish to say aloud that only he could protect Tori. Not only was it untrue, but the Monticore would take offense and he would be challenged to rounds in the ring so they could prove themselves and reassure him of their abilities. He watched the swish of Tori’s tail as he walked with Captain Hesperos, the jaunty sway proclaiming he was starting his day well satisfied.
Returning to his office, he looked over the new satellite images. He had adjusted his request the night before, asking the intelligence officer to focus closer to the shore. His father had said the citiplexes of the outcasts were in the areas between the citiplexes of the People of the Longing and deep waters and considered neutral ground for gatherings. Sohm’lan hoped that one of these outcast cities would have a gyre circle.
Worries about Tori flitted through his mind like a bird diving for food but not quite able to catch their prey. Retiring as a warlord was looking better and better as his life reshaped around his amor. He had made sure that Captain Hesperos would take every precaution as Tori questioned the strangers. Would the captives be able to even tell them how many young had been snatched from the shore? He wanted to be by Tori’s side, but neither could he abandon his search. He had to contact Poseidon soon, and Sohm’lan was going to have a few words to say about a parent who was not accessible to their young. Perhaps scolding an Ancient was not a good idea, but the longer he searched for answers, the more aggravated he became.
A rap on the main door drew Sohm’lan out of his office. A Basilisc opened the door. “Warlord Sohm’lan, Bard Echo is here to see you.”
There was a glint of excitement in the guard’s eyes. Sohm’lan’s father was popular around the palace, treating everyone he crossed paths with as if they were an old friend.
“Let him in,” Sohm’lan replied, before turning back to the satellite images, ignoring the fawning as Echo entered the suite.
After the door closed, Echo crossed the receiving room to the door of Sohm’lan’s private office. “What is on the agenda today, son?” Echo asked, looking at the large vidscreen where Sohm’lan was pushing around the satellite image of open water.
He zoomed in on darker areas, looking for signs of a citiplex. The Numina were in the deep, unexplored waters. After speaking with his father yesterday, he knew there were outcasts who did not cross paths with Numina or even with most People of the Longing, and that gave him an idea of where to look for their residences. If he found their cities, then he could narrow down the search for a gyre circle. His father’s eyes sharpened as Sohm’lan explained.
“I abided by Numina laws—” Echo started, then smiled when Sohm’lan gave a disbelieving snort. “—mostly. So, I had very little contact with the outcasts until I was banned from deep waters. If I am honest, I was expelled from the Waters of Poseidon and though I rarely swim when we are on Atlainticia, when I do, it is near shore. I might have been barred, but few are strong enough to subdue and bring me in for ignoring the ban.”
Since his father could portal himself, Sohm’lan doubted anyone could even catch him.
His father continued, “I am more acquainted with the outcast citiplexes on other worlds, but I know the general location of where the citiplexes would be here on Atlainticia.”
He stepped back and let his father manipulate the images and tag locations. Something caught Sohm’lan’s eye. “Stop. What is that?”
The color of the water was polished aquamarine, the dark area Echo had tagged was next to what looked to be a dark circle. The structure had to be massive when compared to the possible citiplex.
“That might be a gyre circle,” Echo said, giving him a calculating glance. “What are you planning, son?”
“I want to fly out to see it. Do you want to come?” he asked instead of answering the question. He was going with his gut. “Do you think we can get there and back in time to make the transport to Zeus’s? He is climbing Mount Rhodes today to retrieve birth beds for his kits. Valdor and Ashari will arrive either tonight or tomorrow. I think we should convince Zeus to bring his household to the safety of the palace until after the kits have come out of Dargon’s pouch, maybe longer. Azaes’ coronation is taking place next week.”
“Sohm’lan,” his father said sternly. That tone would have had a younger Sohm’lan scrambling to do his father’s bidding, but he was no youngling and he stared back at his parent.
“Are you coming or staying?” He sent a message to Captain Hesperos that he needed three or four teams of Monticore, and a shuttle craft.
“As if I would let you go into danger alone,” Echo groused, though his concern was clear.
Sohm’lan looked over his father then sent another message that they needed gear for someone his father’s size. Excusing himself, he slipped into the sleeping chamber and disrobed. He strapped on his chest harness and utility belt, checking his red steel knives and made sure the nets were folded properly in their pouches. It would not do to have the nets tangle before he had a chance to fling them. The last thing he picked up was his father’s trident. He only knew the basics, but that would be enough in an emergency.
Echo was talking to an older Monticore who held a large tote. Sohm’lan recognized her. She had been the captain of the Monticore in Valdor’s father’s time and had retired to another occupation like most Mar’Sani did every thirty to forty summers. What was she doing here?
“Kaduna Kapri,” he greeted, crossing the room. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
Kaduna was twice Sohm’lan’s age but still only considered middle-aged at not quite one hundred and fifty summers old. Her green and gold scales looked bright and healthy, though with her only wearing a chest harness and utility belt like Sohm’lan, he noticed her scars, new and old. Whatever her occupation, it was not tame.
“Hesperos called in a favor when he returned to Valespia, asking for my help. I have been on standby since. He is safeguarding Prince Mestor this morning and you requested a shuttle and water gear.” She glanced at Echo. “I am going to guess this
is for you.” His father nodded. She set the tote on a high table, opened it before motioning for Echo to take the contents. “Hesperos wanted another set of experienced eyes to watch over you.”
His father went to the sleeping chamber to dress. Sohm’lan gave her a slight bow. “I apologize that you were pulled out of retirement, Captain. Has Captain Hesperos explained the situation?”
She nodded gravely. “I have been briefed.”
Sohm’lan had been a fledgling warlord at twenty-two, and the youngest ever accepted into the service when he came to the palace. His service did not overlap Kaduna’s by much, but he remembered her well. She was quite feared by all. She was not only the captain of the Monticore but had always accompanied Valdor’s father, Ishwar. Her dedication and loyalty were the examples all Monticore strived for, and woe to the person who disappointed her. If Sohm’lan had not been so dedicated to his career he would have pursued her. But like Kaduna, he was devoted to Emperor Valdor and then later the Vondorians too much to carve out a personal life for himself. It was almost ten summers later when Niobe caught his attention and he pursued her. He shook off his thoughts and the path they were leading him down. Kaduna had not been in service to the palace for more than fifty summers and unless she took up a career in a similar field, she would be quite out of practice with the physical and mental requirements of the Monticore. He looked into her dark brown eyes and decided that he would be careful how he voiced his concerns. She was still a little frightening.
“If I may ask, why did Hesperos choose you?”
“I have spent most of my retirement in the water. Exploring, mostly. Surveying the ocean floor and making maps. He mentioned how the Monticore struggled to keep up with the People of the Longing on Valespia. I will not have that problem. Plus, I have seen some strange things while below.” Captain Kaduna shrugged as if she was not exactly spooked but warily disconcerted. “I swim in some desolate places. I have seen the relics of abandoned citiplexes four times the size of Thrace. In the beginning, I was simply curious and bored. But the last few summers have revealed some seemingly inexplicable things. The vast Waters of Poseidon hide many dangers, Warlord.”
He wondered what she had seen, exactly, but there was not time to delve, especially since Canry appeared in the doorway. The look in his eyes said this was not a social visit.
“Excuse me for a moment.” He crossed to his waterson. Was Canry here to stop him? Would his plan lead to disaster?
“Prince Canry, I thought you were meeting with the twins before you went inland to see Prince Zeus?”
A smile ghosted across his lips. “I was on my way there but felt compelled to see you first. Is there some place we can speak privately?”
Sohm’lan led him into his office and shut the door.
“I cannot tell you what to do,” Canry said immediately, his words rushing together with as quickly as he spoke. A look of guilt crossed his expression.
“I never expected you to,” he replied. Canry had made it plain that he could not meddle, or he risked losing himself to become something frightening and terrible. Sohm’lan would always respect Canry’s limits.
His waterson paced the office, touching items, fidgeting, and perhaps arguing with himself. “Nethus was once a great warrior of the Numina. And even though he has not wielded a weapon in a very long time, one would be a fool to believed he is easy prey.”
Sohm’lan waited. If Canry was like his brothers, he would eventually get around to the reason he was there.
“I do not want to be the reason why you fight,” he said in a rush.
Sohm’lan wanted to draw his waterson into an embrace but sensed that was not what Canry needed. “I will always fight for you, for Shaneva, Zeus, and Azaes. I would wage war for Mestor, Matsya, and even Kryp. I will go into battle alone if it keeps our people safe. This is my choice, my honor.” Knowing that Canry had probably seen the many branches of Sohm’lan’s future from this point, he pushed on. “We need Poseidon, and if that means I face one bull to get Poseidon’s attention so that we can stop a civil war, then that too is my choice and I would do so with great honor.”
“There are other ways,” Canry pressed.
“Sure, I could ask Zeus to shed blood in the Waters, hoping that it would lure Poseidon back to Atlainticia. But Zeus has been swimming these seas all his life and has shed blood here already. Poseidon has not come.” He grabbed Canry’s hand, stilling his agitated movements. “I could ask you where you met Poseidon after he confronted Nethus. Mestor said Poseidon commanded you to speak to him after your siblings left the Dream.”
“He had not gone far,” Canry confessed. “Speaking to me in the Dream to verify that I had not been allowed to return to shore. I do not know where he lives but I could farsee—”
He shook Canry gently. “At what cost? I will not ask you. I will not risk you. We want you in our lives, not your abilities, just you. So no, you will not attempt to meddle where you should not.”
“But you will—could be hurt. If I look—”
“No, you will not. Your only responsibility these next few days is to spend time with your family. Trust that I am capable of doing what needs to be done. And if I get hurt, then it is Mestor’s turn to heal me.”
Canry’s eyes grew large and he choked, or was he stifling a laugh? At least he had dragged Canry’s thoughts away from a downward spiral of dark thoughts. What he planned was dangerous. But he would rather risk himself than risk Canry’s mind.
He opened the door. Echo stood looking out the window and smiled at Canry with a soft, “Your Highness.”
“Oh, you’re here,” Canry said upon seeing Echo, his gaze turning vacant and glassy before he suddenly snapped back to himself. “That is good, that is very good.” The glance he gave Sohm’lan before hurrying to the door confused him, but he did not ask for an explanation.
“Is everything all right?” his father asked, his rumble full of concern.
“We are fine,” he replied, hoping he was correct. “Are you ready to leave?”
The door did not close behind Canry. Kaduna entered, her large bag gone but in her hand she held a couple of small devices. Trackers.
“If something were to happen and either one of you were taken, we could follow. Captain Hesperos was adamant that you not enter the Waters unless you wore one.”
Sohm’lan hesitated. If he was taken by the Numina, anyone who came after him would trigger a civil war. But he had a feeling that Kaduna had orders to tie him down and hold him if he refused. Sohm’lan sighed and took one of the devices and adhered it to the back of his neck. He would take every precaution and not get caught.
After his father did the same, they exited the suite. Captain Kaduna led the way, the six Monticore closing around them. They bypassed the public areas and took the side routes out of the palace.
“The aircraft is ready and waiting on the private landing pad. While you were speaking with Prince Canry, Prince Mestor got word of your excursion and sent a more intimidating ship for our use.”
Sohm’lan imagined Captain Hesperos told Tori, which was the correct call. He could not explain what he was doing to Prince Azaes, but Tori already knew what he was about. Plus, someone in the family needed to know where he was going in case he did not return.
Though Mestor went completely overboard with his airship selection. Sohm’lan only needed a shuttle but on the landing pad sat a sleek and intimidating military transport. He almost snorted out a laugh, barely holding it in, then he boarded the vessel and the bark of laughter escaped, surprising everyone on board. He was well known for his calm, even-tempered demeanor. Few outside of the Vondorians ever saw him smile, much less heard him laugh. But there was no way that he could keep quiet as he took in the full scope of his Tori’s meddling. Nine teams, thirty-six Monticore, were packed into the passenger seats staring back at him.
“We have a chair in the pilot’s cabin for you,” Captain Kaduna said from behind him. “Bard Echo will sit next to me.�
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He nodded and stepped through the door to the cockpit. As he strapped into the seat, he looked out the window, searching for people who were not supposed to be on or near the palace landing pad. Not for the first time did he wonder how many Numina spies were watching. He hoped that the flight would lose any tails who were keeping an eye on him.
Take off was seamless and smooth; the pilot put in the coordinates Sohm’lan gave them and the ship sped over the water, land dwindling until there was nothing to see but endless blue. The varying shades soothed his nerves. If they had found a gyre circle, then—one step at a time, he counseled himself.
Once they reached the coordinates, the ship’s side doors opened and Monticore methodically leaped into the water below. They secured the area and radioed the all clear. Sohm’lan met his father at the exit and they went over with a few more Monticore. When his father hit the water, he transformed into his mer-form. If the Monticore were surprised, Sohm’lan could not tell. The remaining number joined them in the water. The pilot said she would stay in the area for extraction.
The swim down took longer than Sohm’lan anticipated, but eventually, the citiplex lights winked into existence. A short distance away stood monoliths the size of which Sohm’lan had never seen before. The tall stones formed a massive circle. His father had called the gyre circle on Valespia an arena, and as they approached, he could see how it could be called such. The arena was made of a series of stone circles, each successive circle smaller than the one before it. The dark megaliths speared up from the ocean bed, clear of any sea lifeforms that usually covered such structures. The citiplexes kept gardens of creatures that would prevent coral and other such sea life from forming on citiplex buildings. But the residences were a distance away and there was no evidence of such maintenance.
