by Adam Burch
The drums bang louder. The dancer screams above the clamor. I swiftly circle the table to Phaestion. I hop onto it to get a better view.
The dancer is Nadia. Her graceful curves whirl and spin.
“I’ll not dance for you!” she screams.
She’s beautiful, even in her anger. The Julii soldiers are clawing at her, grabbing her. They grope her as she comes near and clutch at her breasts and buttocks. Perdiccus jumps into the circle and takes her in his arms. She shoves him, punches him, and kicks him to the rhythm of the music. He dances out of the way like a shark matador. He tears strips of her skirt away exposing her thighs. He rips a strip from her gown. She clutches at it to prevent her breasts from being exposed.
“Come on, beautiful,” he calls. “I know you want it!”
I’ve been here before. I look at my mother. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t act that day in the hall of Old Wusong. I can act now.
“Stop!” I scream. I feel my vocal cords rip as I bellow. Pain doesn’t matter. All eyes turn to me.
“You’re in my chair,” I say to Phaestion coldly.
“Edmon—”
“Get out of my seat!” I cut him off.
I see shock in his eyes, hurt. It just as quickly turns to anger. “Who’s going to make me?” His smile is smug and fierce. He knows that I can’t beat him physically. What he doesn’t know is that I don’t care.
“I am.” I kick the chair out from under him. He jumps out of the way as it clatters off the table to the floor. Strength is all they understand. Strength and their rules of tradition. That’s what I must use.
“I am Edmon Leontes, son of the leviathan. I rule here in his stead. My word is law. You’re here only by the grace and courtesy I give you. I now renounce your invitation!”
“Edmon!” Alberich steps forward.
I shout over him, “I renounce the bonds of fosterage. I renounce your presence within my hall. Leave. Now!”
“Edmon.” Phaestion steps forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “We’re sorry, but we’re your brothers. You cannot—”
“You are not, nor have you ever been my brothers,” I interrupt. “None of you!” I spot Edgaard’s face in the crowd. The words hit him like a physical blow. I’m sorry for it, but there’s nothing I can do. “You believe you’ve a right to do as you wish because of your birth as sons of Patriarchs, but you have no right. Not here. You will all leave. Now.”
“Edmon, I’m your friend.” Phaestion tries to reason again, but I know that I’m more than just a friend to him. If he considers any of The Companions a true brother, it’s me. “If you revoke fosterage, it’s for good.”
I pull my shoulder from his touch. “Leave now or face punishment.”
“Punishment!” exclaims Perdiccus. “For what?” He’s truly baffled. He continues to grope for Nadia even as he says this. “We’ve done nothing wrong. We’re just having fun.”
I hop off the table and walk toward him. His face registers confusion as I grab his hand, take hold of one of his fingers, and yank violently. There is a snap of bone. He cries out. He tries to hit me with his other hand, but I hit him first. He crashes to the floor.
“What’s wrong with you, Ed? First Sigurd, now me? We’re companions. You’re going to give that up for this?” He flicks his gaze, indicating Nadia.
“Any member of House Julii still on the isle after an hour’s passing forfeits his life!” I respond.
The Julii coterie gather on one side of the room. Islanders instinctively gather behind me on the other. We’re not a strong group. We’re not fighters, but we do outnumber them.
Phaestion takes his place at the head of his line. “You’ve made a terrible mistake.” His voice is calm. He stands barely half a meter from me. He looks beautiful, more vivid in this moment than I’ve seen him before. He speaks as if his words were prepared.
In another lifetime, we could have just been ourselves together. We would always be friends, but not here or now. I can’t love him like he craves. His is an unending desire to have everyone adore him—male, female, it doesn’t matter. His instinct is to covet. His will is to dominate, grasp all those around him, and contain them in a bottle.
“With a word, I could sack this island and kill all of its inhabitants. End their little lives. You know this,” he says calmly.
He’s right. The men behind him are warriors with weapons. It would be a bloodbath.
“My father might have something to say about an attack on his property,” I counter. Two can play politics.
“Because of our past friendship and the love I bear you, we will honor your wishes,” Phaestion says, finishing with his eyes narrowed.
Our past friendship, he says. He reaches a hand out to me.
“Goodbye, Phaestion,” I say gently before he can touch me again. He nods and turns. His group follows.
Alberich lingers, shaking his head. “Edmon, I understand, but you must also understand—this will complicate things. You’ve forced House Leontes into conflict with House Julii, without regard to your father’s position. He will take umbrage. It may not be tomorrow, but the hammer will fall. I hope you’re prepared.”
So do I. “Go,” I say. Alberich follows, leaving with the others. The Maestro also turns to go. “Maestro,” I call out. He looks back at me. “If you stay, you will be welcome here, but you may never be able to return to Lyria again.”
The old man is caught between the two groups and the choice between his old home and what he knows to be right. “My boy,” he says as he steps beside me, “we’ll train every day from now on if that’s what you wish. And we will record. They will hear your music across the stars, I swear. Most of the galaxy’s finest musicians don’t have a degree from any university. Even Andreas Catalano dropped out before graduating, you know. Besides, I doubt there are any at the Sophia School who could boast having the full private instruction of Maestro Bertinelli.” I put a hand on his shoulder. He smiles. “I’m proud of you, my boy. And so are they.”
He gestures to the crowd of islanders remaining in the hall, who nod at me in solidarity. Nadia clutches at the torn fabric of her dress, holding it together. She stares straight ahead, defiant and proud. My mother, scarred and vacant-eyed, sits with no expression on her face at all, but I know she, too, is with me.
The breeze lifts Nadia’s dark hair from her shoulders. It fans the white linen tatters of her dress. She stands at the cliffs overlooking the ocean.
“Here again?” I ask.
“We’re always here, aren’t we?” she replies softly as I approach.
I don’t know all they did to her. I only hope I stopped it in time. I had lost sight of her when the crowd dispersed. I knew she couldn’t have gone far. I knew we would come back to this place.
“You want to be alone,” I say. I turn to leave, but she lunges and grabs for me, burying her face in my chest.
When did she become so much shorter than me?
“They forced me to dance for them. I fought, but they were too many and too strong. I felt helpless, Edmon. They were going to do more, if you hadn’t been there . . .” Her words pour out.
“I’m sorry.” I pet her hair. “I tried to be who you wanted me to be. I wasn’t fast enough.”
My excuses fall like Meridian twilight, never reaching their destination. She looks up at me, and her soft lips find mine, and there are no more words. She kisses again and again. She smells of the dirt and dust of the island. The clean salt of the sea. It’s familiar and exotic all at once. I feel her lips part. The gentle tip of her tongue grazes mine.
How does she know to do that?
The blood rises in my face, hot and red. I feel myself stirring below. An ache and hardness and panic. I’ve not kissed a girl before. Not like this.
She pulls away and brushes the hair from her face. She clutches the broken strap of her dress. My eyes lock on her smooth, tanned skin, then drift down to the curve of her full breasts hinted at beneath the torn linen. She catches
my look. I turn away, ashamed at my transgression.
“It’s okay. You can look if you want.” Her voice is husky and calming.
My body reaches forward. It’s all I can do to stop myself from reaching down to hide the sight of it thrumming against my leggings.
“I should go,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Wait.”
I’m desperate to leave, more desperate to stay. I don’t know what I should be feeling. What would a warrior do?
“What’s happening to us, Edmon?”
She embraces me again. I turn so she can’t feel my arousal. This only upsets her.
“Forget it,” she says. “Go.” She pulls away brusquely.
I feel terrible. I’ve rejected her. I’m so confused. I grab her hastily and kiss her again, hard and clumsy. She laughs. “I’m sorry,” I say. I’m not sure what I’ve done that’s funny.
“You kiss like an ox fish,” she says, snorting.
I feel the red in my face. “I’ve never done it before,” I admit.
“Liar,” she teases.
“Well, Phaestion kissed me at the beach,” I stammer. “But that was just today and—”
“You kissed Phaestion today?” Her brow furrows. “I didn’t think you—”
“It’s not like that. I mean, he’s beautiful. When you get near him—”
“There’s something different about him, I know,” she says, cutting me off. “He has some power. Something that makes people want to be near and love him. It’s intoxicating.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. His physical beauty is only part of it. There’s something else, something chemical. “His beauty isn’t natural,” I say. “Not like yours.” My voice cracks again. I’m such an idiot. “He’s like a god. You’re—”
She puts her finger against my lips to shush me. “Please don’t keep spoiling this moment by saying something stupid.” She smiles and leans in close. “Just do it like you did before.”
We kiss again.
“How was that?” My voice is hoarse.
We kiss, and we kiss, and we kiss. We kneel down to the earth. I lose my balance. I fall on my butt like a lout. She laughs again. “Always so awkward. Little Lord, I’m going to have to save you from falling again.”
“I remember.” I pull her to me. We wrestle like we did when we were young. Now I roll on top, pinning her. “I remember you always used to beat me at this.”
Then I feel her hand close around my hardness. I gasp. Our eyes lock. Neither of us breathe.
“I didn’t mean to,” she says, stammering now. “Does it hurt?”
I shake my head no. My pulse quickens. I want to run, but I don’t.
The other Companions had concubines to experiment with. Now I wish I hadn’t refused. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like a colossal lump, not knowing what to do.
She gently slides a hand to the strap of her dress. She pulls it from her shoulder. Her naked breasts are bare in the sunlight like full, newly ripened fruit.
“You can close your mouth, idiot,” she says mildly.
I clap my jaw shut, not realizing it was open. I try to swallow, and my throat feels so tight. The blood pounds in my neck.
“Your turn.”
My mind is no longer working. I pull my shirt over my head, following her lead. The sun blazes against my bare skin for the first time in years. Nadia’s eyes run along the lines of my torso. She kneels down and gently pulls my leggings to my ankles. I almost trip again trying to step out of them. My hand goes to her smooth shoulder for support.
“So clumsy.” She chuckles. She sucks in her breath as she stares.
Her touch, when she holds me, is slow. I feel a tightening in my belly. I kneel down. I brush a lock of hair from her dark eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat,” she says, her hands still on me. I kiss her hard. She pulls me into her, and as we roll on the white earth, entangled in each other, my hand closes around the softness of a breast. Our bodies create a drumbeat, and I feel the vibration of the strings of the universe, the song of life pulsing through us both. Waves crash between us for what seems forever and an instant all at once. All that’s left is me breathing on the ground staring at the sky. In the distance, a siren calls for her mate.
I lock eyes with hers. “What did you do to me?” I whisper.
“Same thing you did to me.” Her head rests in the crook of my neck, and her dark eyes look up to me. “You saved me.”
I lean down and kiss her. My eyes close in the warm bliss of the summer isle sun. This contentment feels so rare.
I don’t know how much time has passed when my eyes open. A moment? Eternity?
It’s a rustling behind me that’s woken me, the sound of a few skittered pebbles. Nadia, still deep in slumber, does not stir. I see a flash of red-copper hair behind the rocks.
“Phaestion?” I stand. “Phaestion?” I ask again.
He bursts from behind the boulder and sprints away so fast. I take a step after him, but he’s gone. I can see the red hair trailing behind him like the lick of a flame. He rounds a bend out of my sight.
“What is it?” Nadia asks. She pushes herself up to sitting.
“Nothing.” I return to her side. “Go back to sleep, love.” The words sound new and strange on my lips, but she doesn’t notice. I lie beside her, and she drifts off once again. My eyes do not close this time. A few moments pass, and I hear the blast of the sondi. The large black airship looms over us. I feel more than see a pair of cold gray eyes staring out from a porthole. The ship makes a soft bank away from the island, sailing into the sky over the Southern Sea.
CHAPTER 14
TRIO
The morning of my eighteenth birthday begins the same as every other has in the last three years. I wake up, arm stretched out over Nadia’s belly. My bleared vision comes into focus. Her dark eyes are already open, looking at me with playful derision.
“Happy birthday, Little Lord,” she whispers. She presses her lips to mine. Very slightly, only very slightly. I want more. I grab her and pull her close for something deeper.
She pushes me off. “No!” she squeals playfully. “You need to sanitize first!” I grab her more tightly. Then I breathe the hottest, most foul-smelling breath of morning I can into her face. She struggles to turn away. “No, Little Lord! No!”
She slaps me gently across the cheek. I grab her wrist and kiss it softly. I pull her arm around my neck. Our legs intertwine. I feel myself rising to meet the softness of her body. Now she’s the one grabbing me closer. We kiss and touch and caress. Her body is as familiar to me now as the blanket I was born in. My hips rise to enter her . . .
“Wait,” she breathes.
The blast of a seashell horn sounds—the call to the boats. I groan as if in pain, rolling over onto my stomach. My head and arms hang off the edge of the bed.
“It’s your birthday. They’ll understand,” she says softly.
“I have to go.” I sit up. “With the embargo, we barely survive. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed others to work in my stead? We already live on top of the hill. I can’t let myself be any different from any of them.”
“But you are different,” insists Nadia. “You’re the one that will suffer if this independence from your father fails.”
“That’s why I need to go.” I stand and call for the drawers. They pop out of the walls, and I quickly dress in the linens and large-brimmed hat of the islanders. She sits up, sweeping the sheets around her. She should get up, too. Everyone must work. That’s the way of it, as much as I understand the desire to rest at least for a day.
“Meet me at the cliffs after you’ve held court?” she asks with a sultry gaze.
“And miss the afternoon nap?” I yawn and stretch, half teasing. Of course the sleep would be nice before the Eventide feast, but if anything is going to make me skip a few minutes of valuable sleep, it’s the chance to be alone with her.
“I have something special to give you for your birthday,” she says in a silky tone.
“Oh, do you?” I sweep her into my arms. The second sound of the seashell rings. “After court. I will see you then.”
Work on the sea isn’t easy. The sun beats down as we check our traps and our nets for hours. Today’s haul isn’t large, but with rationing, a day’s or even several weeks’ bad take should be manageable. The pod captain calls, “Pull!” We work the lines at his expert direction.
Gorham smiles at me with brown gums. The old man has become withered but seems as happy as ever working by my side. Later he’ll be drumming at the feast as always.
I’m no different than anyone else on Bone, but I face the worry. There aren’t many resources available here. The weather is too warm, and the isle too bare to support large forests or game. Fish and kelp are our main sources of sustenance. I’m the one to ensure everyone has enough. I listen to my fish captains, and then we set policy together. We move to different spawning grounds on a cycle to avoid overfishing. Lately we’ve been venturing farther and farther out to sea seeking new sources. Still, our haul has dwindled. Even if we weren’t under the Pantheon embargo placed on us by my father as my punishment for disrespecting the fosterage, this planet is getting hotter and the fish are dying. I can feel it and see it daily.
The population of Meridian in the last century has boomed, and resources in the Twilight Band have dwindled, too. The opening of the new Fracture Point should have increased Tao’s access to foreign resources, but as Phaestion told me once, we have little to barter with.
Add to that a Nightsider culture that has always been xenophobic. Eighty years ago, we forced all aliens to fight in the Combat or be expelled from our atmo. I’ve heard of only one off-worlder who stayed and survived, though he disappeared soon after his Combat triumph.
Midday comes. We row the boats into the docks, carrying our meager haul ashore. We’ve done all we can this day. It’s time to hold court before the afternoon rest. I catch Nadia’s eye as she works with the women in the kelp farms just inside the harbor. Her smile is comforting as always, but I can tell the harvest today is also thin.
