Waterfell

by Amalie Howard

  “Surf session after school,” I say. “Want to come with?”

  “Surfing? During the day?” I nod. “You’re going to have to tone it down, you know. It’s a full moon in a few days, which means you’re going to have to be extra careful with the water...and the other things.”

  “I know, Speio.”

  A shiver races up my spine at the thought. Speio means the fish and other sea creatures. Around full moon, they tend to get a little crazy around us, which is why I don’t go swimming then if I can help it. They aren’t dangerous. They’re just more aggressive so they draw too much attention. Soren told me once that it had something to do with us glimmering in response to the moon. Full moon is a very uninhibited time for my people—apparently Aquarathi pheromones are a pretty powerful thing—and we are apt to get a little moon-crazy.

  It gets worse until we bond with a mate, which usually happens soon after we mature into adulthood in a coming-of-age transition called Dvija. Most Aquarathi experience Dvija between fourteen and nineteen, so it’s unusual for any of us to go beyond our teen years without bonding with a mate. I’m almost seventeen and still haven’t experienced Dvija. Speio has, but living as humans, neither of us has had the opportunity to think much about bonding.

  “What are you thinking about?” Speio asks, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Dvija and bonding,” I admit. If I can’t talk to Speio, who else can I talk to about the ins and outs of who we are? Echlios and Soren, as much as I love them, are way too much like parents for me to be comfortable bringing up something so awkward.

  Speio’s eyebrows shoot into his head. “Um, okay. That’s weird.”

  “Don’t you ever think about it? I mean, you went through Dvija two years ago. What does it feel like?”

  “Wow, time and place,” Speio says, glancing around, and then pauses, watching me and leaning across the table. “Riss, where is this coming from? Are you okay?”

  I feel myself blushing. I refuse to let my eyes slide to the boy sitting at the edge of my peripheral vision. Why would a human boy make me think about bonding? It isn’t like it would be possible with one of them. Although in human form we’re physically compatible with humans, bonding is altogether an entirely different matter. For the Aquarathi, it’s a connection at the most basic molecular level—the core of who we are, of everything we are.

  “Never mind. It was just something Soren mentioned,” I say quickly, and change the subject. “So about surfing, I’ll be careful, I promise. And if you come, you can keep an eye on me.”

  “Sure, I’ll be there,” Speio says, looking incredibly relieved that we’ve veered away from the bonding subject. His grin widens into something roguish. “Those friends of yours better be ready for a schooling.”

  The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur, and apart from a few speculative glances from Lo during English whenever he thinks I’m not looking, it feels like I’m back in my groove. I’ve taken more detailed notes than usual but it’s either that or obsess about why Lo keeps sneaking furtive looks in my direction. I’d rather write a thousand pages of notes than tie myself up into knots about what some human boy thinks about me.

  I’d also told Jenna before class about the impromptu surf session but she doesn’t seem too upset about postponing our shopping date.

  “Sawyer said it would be good practice before the surf meet,” she says. “And we know I’ll do anything for that boy, including not shopping. That’s true love for you.”

  I shake my head at her lovesick face, studiously ignoring her suggestive glances that swing in Lo’s direction and then back to me. I know exactly what she’s hinting at but it’s not going to happen. Double date or not, getting to know a boy who already makes me jumpy—or makes me think about bonding—is a definite no-no.

  “Stop,” I tell her when she starts making smoochy faces.

  “Come on,” she whispers. “He’s hot.”

  “There’s far more to life than hot boys,” I whisper back. Although my sneaky inner self doesn’t dispute that Lo is hot in a sexy, two-dimensional kind of way—like one of my favorite anime characters, Eiri from Gravitation or Noctis from Final Fantasy.

  “Not much more,” Jenna says, waggling her eyebrows comically. We burst into smothered giggles until our study hall teacher glares us into silence.

  After school, we split up in the parking lot. Jenna is riding with Sawyer since his boards are already in his truck. Speio and I head to my Jeep. Lo’s driving himself in a tricked-out truck that looks more like beast than car. When I stare at it, he shrugs. “Gift from my mom. She overcompensates a lot.”

  “So where are we going? Black’s?” I ask, pulling up alongside Sawyer. Black’s is a tricky break with perfect conditions because of an underwater canyon, though it’s usually crowded.

  “No, too many nakes,” he says. I snort. He’s referring to the nudists. Black’s used to be known as a nude beach, and even though nudity is outlawed, put it this way...if you want your eyes to bleed, you go to Black’s.

  “Aw, nudies need love, too,” I shoot back, grinning.

  Since Speio and I have to swing past the house to pick up my board, we all decide to meet at Lower Trestles, which is about an hour’s drive north of where we are. It isn’t a gentle surf spot but I assured an overconfident Lo that he didn’t need to accommodate any groms. He grinned and told me that he hadn’t expected any less.

  Once our boards are strapped up top, Speio and I don’t talk about anything other than classes and the weather...pretty much as mundane a conversation as you can get. Neither of us wants to acknowledge the giant gorilla in the backseat, which I’d inadvertently brought up at lunch.

  Bonding.

  But I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to let someone into you so much that you can think and feel as one. Even thinking about it is secretly thrilling.

  It’s for life, Soren had explained to me once years ago during one of our training sessions that she still took very seriously. As much as Echlios was responsible for my physical development, Soren saw to my grooming and preparation as High Court heir.

  “As a species, we don’t bond more than once,” she’d told me.

  “How come?”

  “Too painful. When you become a part of someone else, and they a part of you, bonding with another would be too complicated.”

  “But what if one of us dies?”

  “Then a part of you dies, too.”

  It was as simple as that. The thought of it terrifies and excites me at the same time, and the older I get, the worse it becomes—the heavy sense of anticipation, knowing that a part of me is out there somewhere, waiting for me as much as I’m waiting for it.

  With me, bonding would be so much more than it’d be for any other Aquarathi. If I had returned home, my Dvija would have been celebrated with all kinds of ceremony, because any partner of mine would become my royal companion. But since my father’s death, everything changed. There was nothing for me to return to—no crown, no ceremony and no family.

  My mother died when I was very young, and for years it was just my dad and me. As a child, I’d been willful and stubborn to a fault, always getting into trouble and disappearing.

  “There are better ways to get attention,” Soren had said to me after an ill-advised disappearing act during an important court banquet in Waterfell. “Like being a daughter and princess he can be proud of. You should have been there today. Your absence was noted by many.”

  “I don’t want to be a princess,” I’d said sourly. “And I don’t care.”

  “You can’t keep running from who you are, Nerissa. One day you will be queen.”

  “I’d rather live in a cave full of vomit.”

  Looking back, I was far more trouble than I was worth. Our people faulted him for
being so indulgent and not taking a firmer hand with me, saying that if he couldn’t control his own child, how could he control his people? Put it this way—when I left, no one missed me. After all, as the humans say, no one mourns the wicked. Without my father, the thought of returning to Waterfell alone was—and still is—terrifying.

  “What’s wrong?” Speio asks, sensing my change in mood.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about...my father,” I say after a few seconds. “At least you still have Echlios and Soren, even if we aren’t there. My father’s gone, and I’ll always be a constant disappointment to the Aquarathi.” Speio doesn’t answer right away, but I can see a sudden tightness at the corner of his mouth and in his fingers on the steering wheel. My voice fades to a whisper. “How can I face them? They only remember a silly child.”

  “The people will give you a chance. You’re the heir,” he says. “Look, you’re almost seventeen. Dvija’s bound to happen soon. When you come of age to rule in a few months, everything will change.”

  I glance at him. “Spey, does it hurt?”

  “Does what hurt?”

  “Transitioning. Dvija.”

  “A little.” Speio’s voice grows as tight as his fingers. “It’s more like you feel everything, like everything is heightened, all emotions.” He shoots me a look. “Riss, you know all this, how we work, how all of that sense of awareness goes away once you—”

  “—bond,” I finish, hesitating before I ask the real question. “But what if we never do? What happens then?”

  “If we stay human,” he says quietly, “it hurts less.”

  “Oh.” Which explains why Speio very rarely accompanies me on my occasional deep-sea jaunts when I transform into Aquarathi form for hours at a time. “One more question, and I’ll shut up, I promise.”

  “You can ask me anything, Riss, you know that.”

  “Can we bond with a human?”

  I already know the answer, but I risk the sudden sharp look that Speio launches in my direction because I want to hear him say it. I need to hear him say it. I need to know that the butterfly sensation in my chest caused by this human boy means nothing.

  “No,” he says, his green eyes searching. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t love them.”

  “Did you ever? Love one of them?”

  “No. It’s just not as real for me. No matter how much they love you, or you them, you will always want more. You will always search for the missing part of yourself.” He pauses. “And that can never be a human.”

  We don’t speak again until we pull into the deserted stretch of gravelly road. The others are already there and getting changed. It’s a bit of a hike down to the beach so the plan is to gear up first and walk down. I pull my hair into a ponytail and shrug out of my jeans to pull on a shortie wet suit over my bikini—it may be spring, but the water is still chilly, and even though water temperature doesn’t affect me, I need to keep up appearances.

  “Hurry up, slowpokes,” Sawyer yells, already dressed and heading down the path.

  I notice that Jenna isn’t changing. “You’re not surfing?”

  “Here? No way. It’s like overhead out there, if you haven’t noticed. I prefer the baby waves.” She thrusts a camera in my face. “I’ll just take some shots of you guys. Looking good, Lo,” she says loudly with an exaggerated wink.

  I try to force myself not to look at him but it’s too late. My eyes connect with a killer six-pack made even more killer by the ridge of black neoprene riding low on a pair of very lean hips. With a sharp intake of air and scolding myself in the same breath for even noticing, I tear my eyes away. What’s wrong with me? It’s not like I haven’t seen tons of showboating surfer dudes flaunting their chiseled bodies all over La Jolla. I make myself look up, keeping my expression nonchalant.

  But Lo makes no such effort. He’s staring at me with a look of blatant appreciation on his face, and this time I can’t stop the blush that rises like an answering tide through me, nor the feeling of complete dissolution taking hold of my body. I barely even notice Speio’s frown or Jenna’s ecstatic face.

  I know one thing’s for certain.

  It’s not the butterflies I need to be worried about.

  5

  TAKING THE DROP

  Out here, the ocean is vast, like a glittering surface that stretches to meet the sky, dipping and rolling in constant movement. In the distance, the edges of Catalina break the line of the horizon. With the sun making its way down, everything is dusted in a golden tinge—a sea and sky of molten gold. This is my favorite time of day, just before the sunset shimmers into red and orange, when the world is at its most perfect.

  Breathless, I lie on my board way past the lineup where the ocean is only a gentle swell, dangling my arm into the water and feeling the fine layer of salt crusting on my face. I’m not tired, but it has taken more effort than usual to control my impulses. On top of my volatile feelings with Lo, I know I’m playing with fire because being in the ocean this close to the full moon is risky, when the call of the sea is so strong.

  The others are still going strong. I can see Speio in the distance doing a sharp cutback on a wave and Sawyer paddling out to the lineup. I don’t see Lo. I’ve done everything possible to stay out of his way, especially after that moment up top. I need time to process what this thing is—if anything—between us. Speio, thank goodness, hasn’t said a word to me about the earlier interaction but I’m sure he’s saving it for the ride home.

  Great.

  Staring down into the blue depths below me, I want to dive down and keep going until I meet the ocean bottom. The pull of the deep is as seductive as the sea salt on my skin. Maybe I can cheat just a little. There’s no one out here, anyway. I wiggle my fingers under the water and relax, letting the ocean seep past my human skin, watching as tiny rivers of gold-and-green light shimmer up my wrist and my arm. The feel of it is drugging, making me light-headed and dizzy.

  I close my eyes only to have them snap open at the feel of steel fingers digging into my upper arm.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” Speio mutters, wrenching my hand out of the water. I didn’t even hear him paddle out to me. “Get it together!”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Nerissa, I warned you that you had to be careful. I felt it the second you let go,” Speio says, looking around us nervously. “Other predators will, too. And we’re around people.”

  “I know. I said I was sorry, and it was only for a second,” I say, rubbing my tingling arm with my other hand. My skin still glows a little, but nowhere near as brightly as when it had been submerged. “I couldn’t help it. The call was impossible to resist. I wanted to, just for a second.” My voice is beseeching.

  Speio’s stern face relaxes. He straddles his board, sitting upright, and reaches across to place his fingers against my skin. Almost immediately, I can feel the sharp tug of the ocean, only through Speio’s body. It’s nearly violent. My eyes widen.

  “Feel that?” he asks gently. When I nod, he says, “That’s what I have to deal with being in the water, worse when I sense another like me. In this case, you. That’s Dvija. Every part of me is open and calling out to that missing piece. You asked me about it earlier at school. It’s this—one part pleasure, a hundred parts pain. Even as a human. And it’s a thousand times worse in Aquarathi form.”

  “Oh,” I say, stricken. “I didn’t know. How can I help? What can I do? Do you want me try Sanctum?”

  When I was younger my father told me that part of the responsibility of being an Aquarathi leader is being able to preserve our people’s well-being, by emotional intervention if necessary. He called it Sanctum, and I only ever saw him do it once. I still remember the feeling of bliss emanating from every Aquarathi around him. His power and reach were awe-inspiring.

  “Thanks, but it�
�s too dangerous in human form. Plus, you’re not a queen yet.” Speio smiles a wistful smile. “Bonding makes all the pain go away.”

  Speio’s reality hits me with the force of a sledgehammer. My voice wavers as I put two and two together. “So because of me, you have to deal with feeling like this anytime you’re in the water. Or around me. That’s why you got so angry before when you found out that I’d never planned on going back.”

  “Sort of.”

  “I’ll fix this, Speio. I promise.”

  My throat is constricted. Speio is right. I’ve been more selfish than I could have ever imagined. I had no idea of the pain he was in every time he was in the water or in proximity to me. And that night in the pool must have been torture for him, but he still stayed there.

  To earn my forgiveness.

  Suddenly, I feel so small and powerless, even though I’m supposed to be the one with all the power...the one they’re all supposed to come to for strength. I’m utterly useless. Speio’s words in the parking lot at Dover were hurtful, but nothing he said was untrue. I am weak and self-seeking. I am stupid, blindly so.

  A tear slips down, tracking its way through the salt on my face, and I grip the sides of my board until my fingers go numb. I hate feeling sorry for myself more than anything. Speio hunches over and presses his forehead to mine. “Stop,” he whispers. “You’ll make it worse if you cry. It’ll be okay.”

  “What if it won’t?” I sniff. “What then?”

  “We’ll deal with that if we have to,” Speio says against my hair, and then yanks a fistful of it and shoves me off my board into the water with a playful grin. “Now if you want to stop being such a sniveling baby, maybe we can get a few more waves in.”