Sacred Breath Series (Books 1-4)

by Nadia Scrieva

  “Does it matter whether it’s a game or not, as long as I win?” he asked her.

  She groaned at this question, following him out of the plane. When they arrived on the surface of the boat, Namaka was suspiciously startled by how empty it was. For a massive aircraft carrier, there were surprisingly few people aboard other than the air traffic controllers. The men were wearing shorts and fluorescent orange vests, along with heavy-duty noise cancelling headphones. Their faces were screwed up and squinting in the bright sunlight which glinted off the metal plane, but they did not seem to be paying much attention to Vachlan or Namaka.

  “What’s going on?” Namaka shouted over the roar of the engine and ocean wind. “Where is everyone?”

  “They’re here,” Vachlan responded. “Just be careful not to make any sudden movements.”

  Namaka stared around at the empty boat curiously. “Why? There isn’t anyone—” Her sentence was cut off when she saw that hundreds of guns were beginning to poke over barrels and around boxes. She rotated her body in surprise, seeing black nozzles appearing in every direction. She tried to count by twos, and then by fives, but she could not quickly surmise the numbers. Scanning the glimpses of hands and tops of heads, she frowned, guessing that there might be close to a thousand men just on the surface of the aircraft carrier.

  “So is this the way you welcome an old friend, Olokun?” Vachlan shouted in an amused tone. “And I brought you such a nice present; a warm, young body for you to enjoy!”

  Namaka was suddenly distracted from the guns pointed at her and reminded of what she was wearing. She looked down at the hideous garment which made a bikini look modest, emitting an exasperated sigh. The firearms suddenly did not seem so awful.

  A goliath of a man stepped forward, with heavy artillery strapped all over the massive expanse of his extremely bronzed skin. His dark lips were contorted in a sneer as he looked at Namaka critically. His gaze drifted over her body as if appraising a new car.

  “This is what you brought me?” he asked with an unimpressed grunt. “There wasn’t any better?”

  Namaka’s eyes narrowed into vicious slits. For the first time in her life, she seriously considered cannibalism as a valid lifestyle choice; some people simply deserved to be eaten.

  “Olokun, you know that I would only present you with the finest Adlivun has to offer,” Vachlan said, almost offended that this was even being questioned.

  “Is she good?” the man asked, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side dubiously. “You have tried her?”

  “My dear friend! I can personally vouch for her talents,” Vachlan said, slapping Namaka on the ass cheerfully. “She is my favorite from my harem.”

  “Oh, brother,” Namaka groaned quietly, earning herself another spank. The impact was so hard that it caused her to lurch forward toward the titan, Olokun. She wanted to turn back to glare at Vachlan until holes were burned into his face, but she was prevented from doing so by the shock of the giant’s hand shooting out to grab her breast. She stared down in horror as the man squeezed, as if evaluating a grapefruit at the supermarket.

  “Fine. She will do,” Olokun said, grabbing the front of Namaka’s clothes as though he were tugging on the handle of a shopping bag. “Vachlan the Destroyer, come downstairs with me so we can discuss our business while I use her.”

  “While?” Namaka hissed, her cheeks reddening. “You’re going to carry on a casual conversation with him while he—”

  “Does she not know how to shut her mouth when important men are around?” Olokun demanded, pausing and pulling Namaka very close to his face.

  She immediately clamped her lips shut, more terrified of ruining Vachlan’s plan than anything this man could do to her.

  “She opens and shuts her mouth appropriately around important men all the time,” Vachlan answered.

  Olokun scoffed at this and returned to dragging Namaka below deck. Vachlan followed, noticing that the thousand warriors belonging to his friend did not lower their weapons. Once they had descended below and moved through the heavily guarded corridors of the aircraft carrier to the privacy of the captain’s cabin, Olokun abruptly released Namaka as soon as the door had slammed.

  He leaned forward slightly, bowing from the waist. “Forgive me for that little chauvinistic show. These land-dweller men expect the king of pirates to act a certain way.”

  She gaped at him in disbelief. “That wasn’t real?”

  Olokun began to laugh deeply. “Vachlan, were you trying to scare the poor girl half to death?”

  “I just wanted an authentic performance from her,” Vachlan said with a grin. He extended his arms in a warm greeting. “It’s good to see you, buddy!”

  “It’s been far too long, Destroyer.” Olokun hugged Vachlan firmly, clapping him on the back. “So who’s the girl?

  “This is Colonel Namaka,” Vachlan introduced.

  “Good to meet you, Colonel,” said Olokun briskly. He extended his hand to shake in apology.

  Namaka shook his hand cautiously and with great confusion. “A pleasure, sir.”

  “This isn’t the woman you went on that rampage over?” Olokun said. “I thought you said you were ripping the seas apart because you were pissed off at some redhead.”

  “Yes, the general of Adlivun. I left my wife at home because she’s pregnant,” Vachlan said with a smile.

  “Really? Congratulations!” Olokun said, hitting Vachlan brutally on the back again with an enormous smile. “It’s uplifting to hear some positive news. We should catch up! Would you like a spot of tea?”

  Vachlan’s eyes lit up. “That would be stellar. You always served the best tea, my friend.”

  “They don’t make it like they used to anymore. You need to get the good stuff; this is a Darjeeling directly from Nepal. Do you still take yours with honey?”

  “You remembered!”

  Olokun ushered them over to the sofas and occupied himself with pouring tea. “This might be a silly question, but do you remember those orchids you gave my mother back in the 1770s? She loved those. What country did you say they were from?”

  “That was an island species, from the Mediterranean,” Vachlan said. “I’ll see if I can get my hands on some. So how’s your prostate, Olo? I heard you had a scare.”

  “That’s all cleared up now. Thanks for asking—modern medicine can really work wonders.”

  “Please shoot me now,” Namaka said with a sigh.

  “Pardon me, dear?” Olokun said.

  “Look at what I’m wearing,” she said in disgust. “Vachlan made me dress up like this and said I was going to be abused by the king of pirates. It was supposed to be really dangerous, and now we’re sitting here drinking tea with honey! Vachlan, this is the man you expect to help us defeat the Clan of Zalcan?”

  “She’s very young for a Colonel, isn’t she?” Olokun observed with disappointment as he sipped his tea. “Hasn’t fought in many wars, has she?”

  “She’s still young enough to find this all very exciting,” Vachlan responded.

  “It is very exciting,” Olokun said, “even if we ignore the fact that you and I working together are almost guaranteed victory, the act of war itself is rather scintillating. By the way, Vachlan—I hate to talk shop so soon, but you promised the Clan would never attack my kingdom. I wasn’t expecting them to show up when they did and destroy the Mami Wata.”

  “I’m really sorry, Olo. I had to leave the CoZ because of personal issues; my wife mainly. I should have given you some notice, but I didn’t anticipate the turn of events.” Vachlan sighed. “I owe you big time, buddy.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Olokun said, waving his hand. “We’ll just crush them, and I’ll take back my kingdom, and you’ll take over their empire. It’s simple; plus it gives us something to do.”

  “I haven’t had anything to do in a while,” Vachlan admitted. “I’ve mostly been writing for television and movies. Speaking of which, weren’t you in a jazz band?
Whatever happened to that?”

  “Oh, good grief,” Namaka moaned. “Please, can we talk about the war?”

  “She’s impatient,” Olokun observed. “This younger generation is very direct.”

  “I suppose she’s right that we haven’t much time. So, Olo, how are we going to do this? Namaka and I have just gotten back from sneaking around Damahaar and spreading a whole slew of yummy diseases. The Clan will be weakened quite shortly, and we will need to move in from all sides, and from above and below. Will you throw your pirates behind me?”

  “I have a considerably vast army at my disposal, Vachlan. I have substantially solid resources, and I have been waiting for the perfect moment. This feels very much like the perfect moment; the sound of your voice brings back memories of mass bloodshed, widespread panic, and sweet victory. The problem is that most of the men who sail the Arabian seas with me, most of these bloodthirsty vagrants—they are land-dwellers. The numbers of genuine Mami Wata people in my forces are quite small.”

  Vachlan smiled. “I may have a solution to this issue. What if I could give your men a serum that would allow them all to breathe underwater for a few hours?”

  Olokun stared at Vachlan in astonishment. “If that were possible, this would be a whole new war.”

  Vachlan lifted his Darjeeling with honey “Well then, it seems to be a whole new war. Here’s to that,” Vachlan said. Olokun smiled, and the men shared a look of understanding of the havoc they were about to wreak. Their growing grins indicated a profound premature appreciation for the carnage that painted itself across their minds in a shared vision.

  Namaka, however, was unimpressed. “Are you two seriously toasting with teacups?”

  “You should really try some, dear,” Olokun advised. His colossal copper arms seemed ridiculous as they lifted the tiny porcelain cup so the man could sip the warm liquid. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried a good Darjeeling from high up in the mountains.”

  The woman sighed and pressed her palm against her forehead. “I found you so much more attractive when I thought I was going to be your sex slave.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, Colonel, but I stopped doing that sort of thing in 1880.”

  “What happened in 1880?”

  “A bunch of countries started opening their universities to women. I refuse to rape anything with an education.” A bulky, veiny dark arm began to pour golden honey into an empty teacup. “I made an oath back then and said I would change my ways.”

  “Olokun always honors his oaths,” Vachlan added. “Trust me; it was difficult for all of us to stop considering land-women our property. Of course, women under the sea were always considered equals, and sometimes betters, so it was never an issue down here.”

  “Here you go, Colonel,” Olokun said, handing Namaka a teacup he had carefully prepared for her. “Just try it, and I promise you’ll understand.”

  She took the teacup gingerly and grudgingly, blowing on the surface gently before sipping the liquid. Her tongue was pleasantly surprised by the flavor as the aroma filled her head. Nevertheless, she maintained a frown on her face. “Not bad,” she told the pirate king grouchily. When he smiled and nodded graciously, she decided to give up on trying to appear tough and just enjoy the beverage. She had always felt safe when she was close to Vachlan, and now she was beginning to transfer that sense of security to Olokun. She had always been a sucker for a man with thousands of guns at his command. The high-quality tea leaves were not helping.

  Pirates, she thought to herself. They just don’t make them like they used to.

  Chapter 22: Return to Silence

  “I used to lie awake every night, visualizing the day I’d see you again,” Visola said with a smile. Her head was resting limply against a pillow as she looked up at the woman sitting on the side of her bed. “I didn’t expect it to be under these circumstances—with me in this condition.”

  Aazuria squeezed her friend’s hand tightly, before stroking the length of her arm. Visola had suffered something of a seizure due to the complications of her pregnancy. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Viso. You always were, and always will be. Whenever I was weak and losing faith, I just thought of you. When I gave birth to Varia, and I was all alone, I thought of you. I couldn’t not hold on and keep it together.”

  Visola yanked her friend’s arm, tugging her down onto the bed so she could cuddle against her side. “I only kept it together because you were around. When I lost Alcie, I fell apart into ten different pieces. Each piece went hurtling into a distant corner of the universe, and I’m pretty sure I never found most of them again. I’m not the Visola you used to know. I’m only about four pieces of her.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit in my eyes,” Aazuria said softly.

  The red-haired woman grinned as she clamped her arms around Aazuria. “It’s a trick! I go to great lengths to appear to be the badass general everyone remembers. Sometimes, like a few minutes ago when I was frothing at the mouth, I am not so successful.”

  “You’re pregnant,” Aazuria reminded her. “Sio’s checking out the ultrasounds now to figure out what’s wrong; but it’s not your fault that you lost consciousness. Let’s blame that on your badass baby who’s sucking the life out of you.”

  “Someone tall, dark, and stupid already sucked the life out of me.” Visola gave her friend a miserable look. “He’s gone, Zuri. He didn’t even tell me he was leaving.”

  “Hey! It’s not like it was before,” Aazuria said, squeezing Visola’s hand. “For one thing, he left on my command. Sort of. It was my fault—I asked for his help in fighting the Clan, and he decided that the best way he could be of assistance was to leave immediately. He was really angry about some new information I gave him, and I believe he chartered a private plane within an hour of speaking to me.”

  “What new information?” Visola demanded, sitting up a bit too rapidly. “Dammit, he knew you were alive and he lied to me! He lied to me and brought me some fake slut who resembled you—I’m going to kill that man!”

  “In his defense, he lied before he knew that I was really alive,” Aazuria said, forcing Visola down again, and rubbing her shoulder to relax her. “I requested that he maintain the deception.”

  “How could you conceal this from me?” Visola snapped. “How could you be so cruel as to let me think you were dead? You were my closest friend, Zuri.”

  Aazuria was quiet for a moment, before she answered. “There were several reasons. The first was that I did not want to upset Elandria. The second was that I wanted to study the true situation in Adlivun by living among the people.”

  “I’m sorry for revealing you,” Visola said guiltily. “I realized shortly after I shouted your name to everyone that there were probably good reasons you were in disguise. I was just a little overexcited.”

  With a sigh, Aazuria shook her head. “I had probably given everyone enough evidence by that point anyway.” She smiled, remembering the obvious differences between Sionna and Visola. The doctor had discovered Aazuria’s identity before anyone, and had instinctively known, or perhaps carefully reasoned that she should not divulge the information. Visola was far too impulsive. “Another reason that Vachlan didn’t want to tell you, was that he and Sionna decided they would try to shelter you from any crazy news to protect your health while you were pregnant. He didn’t want to cause you any additional stress.”

  “Baloney! He is my stress. All I ever asked was for him to be here. If that’s too hard…”

  “He will be here,” Aazuria said firmly. “I don’t know how I can say this and still consider myself a rational person, but I trust Vachlan. If he wanted to do so, he could have hurt you worse a long time ago.”

  “You seem to forget that he did,” Visola reminded her. “The thing that hurts me most is being away from him. Nothing could possibly feel worse than the fear that I won’t see him again until 2220.”

  “I promise you will see him again long before that,” Aazuria said. “T
rust me; he’ll be back. If he is alive, I will make it happen. And if he doesn’t come back—the world is a lot smaller than it used to be in 1805.”

  “It’s not that small,” Visola said weakly. “I couldn’t find you.”

  “I wasn’t in a place anyone really considers part of this world,” Aazuria answered grimly. “It was virtually impossible to find me. I cannot allow myself to be upset with Trevain for forsaking me.”

  “He’s a prick,” Visola said, “and she’s a prick too. I told them both that you were alive.”

  “It is fine,” Aazuria said quietly. “I am sure they needed each other.”

  Visola sighed. “They did. It’s my fault, Zuri! I was the one who urged them to get married; Elandria deserved more than Trevain sneaking over to her room at night and then both of them pretending it hadn’t happened.”

  Aazuria closed her eyes and tried to repress a small shudder. “How long was it before they…?”

  “At least two years, I think,” Visola said softly, “but you could probably have him back in two minutes if you really wanted.”

  “I don’t want,” Aazuria answered immediately. She saw Visola quirk her eyebrow in doubt, and she cleared her throat. “I have accepted the current state of affairs. It is fine.”

  “Mhm,” Visola said skeptically. “Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from being among land-dwellers, it’s that all of our husbands will eventually leave us for younger women. And face it—pretty much every other woman alive is younger than you.”

  “Thanks, Viso,” Aazuria said with a smile.

  The general swallowed. “He took Namaka with him. Why would he do that?”

  “Because she’s an excellent warrior who is very devoted to him,” Aazuria responded.

  “Yup. And because she’s younger.”

  Aazuria sighed. “They are trying to make things easier on us at this very moment, Visola. I promise. They only have your best interests in mind.”

  “I’m going to skin him alive,” Visola responded. “I’m going to slowly peel his scalp off. I’m going to melt his—”