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SEAMONSTER: An Aquarathi Novella (The Aquarathi)

Page 8

by Amalie Howard


  “So the beast can be killed,” he crows.

  My control falters as I morph back into human form. Marco raises his gun with a victorious grin.

  “Speio,” Anya says beneath me. Twisting backward, her eyes find mine. A drop of iridescent fluid—Aquarathi blood—drips from my temple onto her face. I swallow hard and focus.

  “Stay down,” I breathe. “I’ll protect you.”

  “But what about you?”

  “Don’t … worry about me.”

  Marco laughs loudly and I brace myself for the final onslaught, tucking Anya into my body as tightly as possible, when a huge roar echoes across the water. I turn weakly as Marco’s laugh turns into a high-pitched scream. A sunset-red monster is rising out of the ocean like the sea creatures of old, all burnished scales, thrashing tail, and fearsome, open jaws. The beast roars again, bronze fins spanning its vast length and claws reaching forward. Marco fires wildly into the maw of the creature, his scream morphing into a choked gurgle as the monster dives toward him, swallowing him whole.

  “What is that?” Anya whispers.

  I fall back to the pebbly shore, relief pouring through me. “That is my father.”

  Anya faints in my arms.

  Forget Me Not

  “Son,” a human Echlios says, taking an unconscious Anya from my arms and placing her on the ground beside us. “Careful. You’re bleeding heavily. Let me check your wounds.”

  “Anya,” I say, blinking blood out of my eyes.

  “Is fine.”

  “How bad is it?” I ask him, seeing the familiar furrow etch across his forehead. I sigh and close my eyes.

  “You need a surgeon to remove the bullets lodged inside you,” he says. “But you will heal. No major organs were pierced, as far as I can tell.” He shakes his head. “That was foolish of you to take such a great risk. You could have died.”

  I open my eyes and meet his shimmering bronze ones. “I know.”

  “Soren has summoned help. They’ll be here soon.”

  “Dad,” I say. “How did you know we were in trouble?”

  “You’re my son,” he says simply as if that explains it all. And it does. We’re all connected, family more than most. Or maybe it’s just a father’s instinct.

  “Thank you.”

  I sit up woozily, but my Aquarathi blood has already begun to heal the hurt areas. I stare at the girl lying beside us on the sand, and lean over with a groan to brush the hair out of her face.

  “She saw me,” I tell my father. “She saw you.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Please—”

  “You know the law, Speio.” My father’s eyes are kind but firm. “No human can know about us.”

  “But it’s only the two of us who will know,” I say quickly. “And Anya will never say anything. She’s different from any other human I’ve ever met. She has so much courage, dad. And a little sister who has no one else in the world but her. How can we even think about … about …” I trail off, unable to say the words. But I think them.

  Killing her.

  Helpless tears sting my eyes as I stare at my father’s implacable face. He will never go against the Aquarathi High Council, not even for me. Our laws are clear and unbreakable—any human who sees an Aquarathi in their true form cannot be suffered to live. It’s the one thing that has kept us safe for centuries, buried in the legends and myths of the human world.

  “Then make it quick,” I whisper, a ragged cry breaking free of my chest.

  Sympathy shadows my father’s face. “Maybe there’s another way. I can’t promise that it will work, but Nerissa’s father showed me how to do it once.”

  Hope flowers like a violent bloom in my body. “How?”

  “I can try to make her forget everything. Ever meeting you. Seeing us. All of it. If it works, we won’t have to follow the law.”

  I stare at him. “But how?”

  My father nods just as Anya stirs. “I’ll explain later. Say your goodbyes,” he tells me and disappears into the ocean. I know he’s still there—I can sense his presence, but for the moment, Anya and I are alone.

  Her eyes flutter open.

  “Hey,” I say, threading my fingers through the dark hair at her nape.

  “Hey.” Her eyes widen with memory and she bolts upright. “What happened? What was that thing? You said … you said … that that thing …”

  “It’s gone. And yes, it was my father.”

  Shock shapes her eyes into huge round orbs, and her mouth drops open into a silent gasp. “That’s what you look like?”

  “We all have different coloring, but yes, similar in shape.”

  “What are you, exactly?”

  I smile. “Remember last night when you were asking me about the stars and other worlds?” Her eyes widen. “I’m from one of them.”

  “This is insane,” she whispers. “Unbelievable. A part of me feels like I’m in a waking dream, like I’m going to blink and I’ll wake up. I mean, you know how impossible this all seems, right? Right now you look perfectly normal to me. You look like a boy.”

  “I only look like this to blend in. My true form is like what you saw before. We’re called Aquarathi.”

  She tests the word out on her tongue and fear flickers across her face. “Your father was very fearsome.”

  “Yes.”

  “He … ate Marco.”

  “Yes.” I don’t have any other explanation. There’s nothing I can say to justify what she clearly saw with her own eyes.

  “I’m glad.” She pulls my head down to hers and hugs me so tightly that I can’t breathe. I pull away, an unfamiliar ache in my chest at her complete acceptance despite her obvious fear of something that most humans would be incapable of even understanding. And now it’s all going to be taken away.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks.

  I don’t answer. I can’t answer. Remaining silent, I kiss her eyes, nose, cheeks, ears, every part of her, until Anya places her hands on my chest, pushing me away. “Speio, are you okay?”

  Instead of responding, I kiss her desperately, trying to memorize the sweet curve of her mouth, the velvet slide of her tongue, the shape of her teeth, the soft inside of her lip, the intoxicating taste of honey and salt that’s uniquely her … all of it. I want to immortalize this kiss for eternity.

  Anya pulls away, frowning. I try to hide the sadness in my eyes, but I can’t do it in time. Understanding dawns in hers. “Oh, my god, we’re saying goodbye, aren’t we? Because of your father.”

  I nod.

  “Will I see you again?”

  “No,” my voice is hoarse.

  “How?”

  “My father will make you forget you ever met me.”

  We stare at each other for what seems like an eternity—saying nothing and everything at once. After a while, Anya slides her fingers across mine, and this time, I don’t hide the ripple of light her touch evokes. She traces it along my forearm.

  “You’re beautiful,” she says. “I don’t want to forget any of this. You, me, last night, today.”

  “I don’t want you to, either.”

  Anya turns to face me, those brilliant blue eyes searching. “Will you let me see you just once?”

  Letting her see me won’t hurt since Echlios is going to erase her memories anyway, so I nod slowly. “It’s easier in the water.”

  She watches me as I walk to the ocean and wade into it until I’m nearly submerged. I untie the necklace from my neck and tuck it into a pocket before removing my pants and tossing them onto the beach. I grin inwardly at the sharp rush of color in her cheeks. Good to know that I still have an effect on her … at least in human form. Holding her gaze as if it is an anchor between us, I let my body begin the transformation.

  I know exactly what she’s seeing as my bones elongate and crack outward, my human limbs extending into clawed talons and powerful hind legs. A shimmer of pale white-gold scales erupts across my body, each the size of a sand dollar, har
dening into place across the long column of my neck toward my ridged snout. My tail curls around as chartreuse-green fins sprout along its entire length from tip to nose, my body expanding to twenty times the size of its human shape. The same fronds frame my face as I stare at her out of one brilliant jade colored eye. Bright green lights flare along my entire body.

  Anya exhales in a rush. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I let her stare her fill, and then I reverse the process until my body is once more human. Anya averts her eyes as I scoop up my discarded shorts and step into them before joining her in the same spot.

  “Thank you for showing me,” she says. “That was beyond amazing.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  We sit there leaning against each other in the quiet for a long time, staring out at the sun reflecting on the ocean. I reach into the pocket of my pants and pull out the braided necklace that I’d stored there for safekeeping. The pendant is a tiny seashell surrounded by a brilliant green piece of sea glass. I hand it to her. “I want you to take this. Even if you don’t remember me, you’ll always have a piece of me with you.”

  “I’m scared,” she admits as I tie the necklace around her neck.

  “You have nothing to be afraid of, Anya. You’re going to go back to L.A., you’re going to put this trial behind you, and you’re going to see your sister.”

  “No, I mean I’m scared of forgetting you.” She sighs. “I jumped from a cliff and you caught me in so many more ways than one. You saved me.”

  “You saved me, too.”

  “How?”

  I stroke her face. “I didn’t think there were any humans like you. You took me completely by storm.” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Before I met you, I never wanted to be here. I wanted to go back home to Waterfell. I didn’t think humans were worth getting to know, much less … caring about.”

  “You care about me?”

  “You know I do.” I shake my head, trying to articulate my thoughts. “But I think it’s more than that. It’s about having a real connection with someone else. I mean, the kissing parts are nice—more than nice—but for me, it’s about discovering you, seeing my world through your eyes, if that makes sense. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

  “No, you’re exactly right,” Anya says. “It makes perfect sense.”

  “No matter what, we won’t forget each other in here,” I say gently, taking Anya’s hand and pressing it to my chest.

  We embrace tightly as Echlios walks toward us from the far beach, wearing clothes, thank goodness. He must have swum back home to get some. I’m grateful for small mercies. As much as we’re all open about nudity in the Aquarathi fold, having my father parade stark naked in front of Anya is all kinds of wrong. The sound of a swiftly approaching motorboat grows louder and I shoot a worried look to my father.

  “Soren will take Anya to Los Angeles,” he explains. “It will be best if you return home with me.”

  I nod, and my father takes a deep breath as if mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to do. We wait for my mother to arrive before we all get into the speedboat. I feel her compassion pushing toward me, and I accept her strength gratefully. This won’t be easy.

  “Speio,” Anya whispers, staring at us in turn. “Will it hurt?”

  I glance at my father, unable to explain. “No,” he tells Anya gently. “It’ll be like falling asleep and waking up with the barest remnants of an amazing dream. Just try to relax.”

  My father kneels down in front of her and takes each of Anya’s hands in his own. “Thank you for everything,” she says to him. She glances in my direction, and then back to my parents. “You have a very special son. I hope you know that.”

  “He is,” my mother agrees softly.

  Sleep.

  My father’s suggestion is powerful and Anya’s eyelids slip closed, hiding the dazzling blue beneath them. I watch my father carefully, but I can’t tell what he’s doing. He’s in some kind of deep trance, and a bright red glow surrounds their linked hands. The glow intensifies and then winks into nothing. When my father breaks the connection, he falls onto his haunches, breathing heavily.

  “Is it done?”

  “Yes.”

  “She won’t remember any of this?” I ask and he nods again. “Will you say anything to the Council?”

  “No. I was bestowed this gift by the king himself, and used it as I saw fit. As far as anyone is concerned, this never happened. I trust you will not mention it in the future.”

  “I won’t.” I stare at my father and make the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life. While I want to keep Anya with me forever, it feels too raw, too exposed. It’s a wound I know will never heal, not even with time. “Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you make me forget, too?”

  My father studies me for a long time before agreeing. “I can try. Aquarathi minds are less susceptible than humans ones, but I will do my best.”

  When my father enters my mind, I am ready. I feel the familiar touch of him as if he’s projecting a glimmer into my body. I don’t block him out. Instead, I receive him, knowing that he’s there to help me. I walk him through the very first day that I met Anya standing there at the top of Dead Man’s Cliff in her white, gossamer nightgown. I retrace every single step, sensing as he erases every touch of it behind me. But I don’t stop him. By the time we get to this island, all I can remember is the most vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever seen—a hue that cloaks me, surrounds me, fills me with every emotion known to man. And then I blink, and the blue fades, merging into the endless sky and the mirrored surface of the ocean.

  Epilogue

  I open my eyes and stretch lazily. I’ve fallen asleep beside the pool again, but it’s summer and there’s no school and there’s no one around to yell at me.

  “Speio,” Nerissa screeches, making my ears ring. “We’re going to be late for work at the Marine Center. Get a move on. Soren’s going to drive us.”

  So much for that, I think and pull myself into a seated position. I rake my hands through my hair and blink the sleep from my eyes. That was quite possibly the best sleep I’ve had in days. Jogging to my room, I shower and brush my teeth before getting dressed. As I’m finger-combing my hair, I notice a slip of folded paper on the dresser. It’s a drawing of a boy sitting in the sand and staring out to sea. My name is written beneath it in strong but feminine handwriting. Someone has captured me perfectly. I flip the paper over, but there’s no other note or signature, just the faint smell of flowers. Tucking the drawing into my pocket, I head down to the kitchen.

  My mother has made breakfast, and slides a tray of fresh sushi toward me. “Sleep well?”

  “Yeah, like the dead,” I say through a mouthful. I pull the drawing from my pocket and show it to my mother. “Do you know who did this? I found it in my room.”

  She shakes her head and studies the drawing. “It’s good,” she remarks. “Whoever it was did a great job. You almost look like you’re smiling.”

  “Hey!” I protest. “I smile. Occasionally.” I shovel a few more bites into my mouth when something catches my eye in the headlines of the newspaper lying on the countertop.

  JURY PUTS CRIME BOSS AWAY FOR CONSECUTIVE LIFE SENTENCES—HEIRESS VINDICATED FOR FATHER’S MURDER.

  But it’s not the headline that captures my interest, it’s the inset photo of an attractive brunette, dressed in a white suit. A braided sea glass necklace that looks identical to mine is tied around the girl’s neck. I look closer. What are the odds that she’d be wearing the exact same necklace as the one I have? My fingers reach upward for mine, but there’s nothing there around my neck. Strange. I must have left it in my room.

  Arrested, I study the picture of the girl. Even in the gritty, low-resolution newspaper color spread, her eyes are magnetic. They’re so blue that I can drown in them. A hint of something comes to me, and a deeply familiar scent flowers on my tongue like a starburst—t
he taste of honey and salt. An unfamiliar feeling tugs at my insides as if I’m somehow tethered to the girl in the photo, and I can’t move. Or breathe. Or function. Time stands still. I am mesmerized, and utterly shattered. I wonder why it feels like everything inside of me is splintering into a million pieces. Or why the taste of salted honey is still on my lips.

  I blink and everything goes back to normal. Time resumes its natural speed and life zooms by around me. I shake my head, taken aback by the odd sensation, almost as if I were falling backward off a dizzying height. I close my eyes for a second and see the girl’s face reflected in my thoughts, only she isn’t wearing a white suit. She’s wearing one of my shirts and her smile is dazzling.

  Anya.

  Her name comes out of nowhere and feels like a caress in my thoughts. The thought of her makes the lights along my arms come to life. I frown at my body’s strange response. It’s the weirdest thing, almost as if I should know her, but of course I don’t. I’ve never seen this girl before in my life.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I close the newspaper and pop a few more bits of food in my mouth before grabbing my bag. My mother pulls me into an unexpected hug in the foyer. I don’t know why, but she hugs me tightly as if I might need it. “What was that for?” I ask her.

  “Because someone once told me I have a very special son.”

  “When he isn’t being a brat,” Nerissa teases as she races past me out to the car.

  “Says Princess Brat herself,” I fling back with a grin. But before I follow Nerissa, I turn back to my mom. “Who said that, by the way? About me?”

  “A very brave girl.”

  Something about the way she says it makes me pause. My mother doesn’t give praise lightly, not for Aquarathi and not for humans. This girl had to have made an extraordinary impact on her. I wonder who she is.

  “Who is she? Does she live in La Jolla?”

 

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