by Dima Zales
Sionna sighed and knelt by the bathtub, resting her chin on her elbows and looking up at Aazuria. “Do you really like him, darling?”
Aazuria pondered over the questions for a moment. She stared at the olive fleur-de-lis patterned tiles on the bathroom wall before nodding. “Yes. I do really like him.”
“Very well. Just remember this is exactly what King Kyrosed always warned us against.” Sionna dipped her finger in the bathwater and drew lingering circles. “He kept us imprisoned because he believed it was dangerous to get too close to land-dwellers.”
“And that is exactly why you all wanted him gone,” Aazuria reminded her. “We thought it better to face these dangers as free women than to waste our lives away in captivity. We thought it better to have a fighting chance at survival rather than to remain sitting ducks and be conquered. Now that we are here, what is the point of our freedom if we are guarded to the point of keeping ourselves imprisoned anyway?”
There was a small silence, before Corallyn nodded. “You’re right. Besides, if we make mistakes, we’ll always have each other to help us to rectify our errors. Nothing is permanent.”
“I still can’t agree with this,” Visola said. “It sounds too good to be true.”
Aazuria gestured to the doorway where the silent woman stood. “We have not yet heard what Elandria thinks.”
Elandria, who had been fretfully fingering her braid, dropped the rope of hair. She lifted her hands to answer in sign language. “I defer to whatever you decide, esteemed sister. If you say he is a good man, then I believe he is a good man.”
“Rubbish,” said Visola with a dissatisfied grunt, “absolute rubbish. There is no such thing.”
“I may prove you wrong yet,” Aazuria challenged gravely.
“Ha! I certainly hope you do,” Visola said. Then after taking a deep breath, she smiled. “I can’t say I’m not a little jealous, Zuri! A few days here and you’ve already been offered to enjoy someone’s home and fortune. Basically a marriage proposal. I’ve got squat!”
“That’s only because Zuri gives off that ‘refined royalty’ vibe, and you give off more of a ‘vicious harlot’ vibe,” Sionna explained.
“Don’t forget that we’re exactly alike,” Visola said to her twin with a sunny wink. She turned to look at the others. “Do you girls mind if I have a private word with the princess?”
When the other three had left, Visola sat on the edge of the bathtub. The two women sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Visola began speaking. “Look, Zuri. I understand if you don’t like dancing in that grimy club for money. It was the quickest solution I could come up with that didn’t involve pawning our jewels.”
“It was a great solution, Viso. It is an impressive way to make money,” Aazuria admitted. “But we should also sell the jewels; what use are shiny baubles if we can use the money to save lives?”
“They are irreplaceable heirlooms from our ancestors. Let me see if I can do this without touching our treasures. Maybe we won’t need to go that far.”
Aazuria nodded. “I should have listened to you and I should not have tried the ballet. My legs were not ready yet.”
“I’m not sure about that,” Visola confessed. “Your dance was so moving. It almost brought tears to my eyes, and you know that I am as cold as they come. You were so free and… triumphant. I’ve never seen you let go like that, not once in over five hundred years.”
Aazuria reached up and grasped her friend’s hand, squeezing it firmly to express her gratitude. Her voice descended to a whisper. “You know me so well, Viso. I have never felt as exultant as I did on stage tonight. Thank you for showing that place to me—it is rough and crude, but there are real people there with earnest passions and sorrows. I could see it in their eyes when I danced. It was almost too much to bear; to feel all those heavy eyes on me, and to feel so obligated to dance their afflictions away!”
Visola’s lips twitched. “Only you could turn a strip club into something spiritual.”
The dark haired woman sent a sly smile at her protectress. “It was worth all the physical pain I now feel. It was worth taking father’s life for. This is one of those days that I do not regret what I have done.”
Visola brought Aazuria’s hand up to her lips and kissed it gently with respect. “You should never feel regret. You did us all a great justice, but I wish that you would have let me do it for you so that you wouldn’t have to live with the guilt.”
Aazuria was quiet for a moment. Visola reached out to brush her moist dark hair over her shoulders. “How are your lungs?”
“Perfectly fine. No pain at all,” Aazuria answered, forcing a small smile. “I will be in good health as long as I do not attempt to dance like that too often.”
Visola continued to stroke her friend’s dark hair, sighing. “Poor Zuri. I hardly recognize you with this dark skin and dark hair. How long has it been since you were in the sunlight? Australia, maybe?” She swallowed at the bittersweet memory. “I really wish that you would take me and Sio along with you to live with your captain. It would ease my mind. I’ll drive myself mad with worry otherwise. Why don’t you just lie and say we’re related?”
“We must be realistic, Viso. With my melanin problem, and you two just as fair as ever, there is no way that he is going to believe that.” Aazuria gave her friend a wry look, lifting her arms. “I look as though I come from the heart of the Caribbean or Mediterranean, not from the Bering.”
“We could dye our hair to match yours…”
“It would not work. Coral and Elandria are also tanning considerably, so it’s easy to see that they are my sisters. Let us not lie any more than we need to. Also, I would not want to cause Trevain more discomfort than necessary; bringing two girls with me is far more polite than four.”
“Fine,” Visola said, reluctantly. “I understand—but Zuri, I haven’t let you out of my sight in a very long time. I want you to know I’m not going to be comfortable with this.” The redhead slowly stood up, placing her hands on her hips in an aggressive pose. “If you see shadows lurking in the bushes outside your new place, don’t freak out. That’s probably me. If you see a red laser dot in the middle of your captain’s forehead, don’t freak out. I’ve probably just got him in the crosshairs of my sniper rifle.”
Aazuria looked up at her friend in confusion. “You have a sniper rifle?”
“Not yet, but trust me: I’ll get one soon enough.” Visola’s turned upwards in her classic mischievous grin. “I’m working on it.”
Leaning back in the tub, Aazuria returned a tired smile. “Can you ask the girls if anyone needs a bath?”
Visola opened the door of the bathroom and addressed the other women in the room. She turned back to Aazuria and shook her head to indicate the negative response.
“Do you need one?” Aazuria asked.
“Nope,” Visola said, “I showered before leaving the club.”
“Great. You four can share the beds. Have a good night. I am going to sleep here in the bathtub.” With that, Aazuria sunk down into the artificially created saltwater, and curled up inside the ceramic basin.
Visola refrained from protesting. “Goodnight, Zuri,” she said tenderly before exiting the bathroom. She left a crack open in the door and seated herself against the wall just outside.
6
“These clothes are itchy,” Corallyn complained as the taxi cab drove off.
“The twins did their research and said that these are normal and fashionable garments,” Aazuria answered. “Are you alright, Elandria?”
The quiet girl nodded, playing with her braid as she surveyed the house they stood before. It was indeed massive, and there would surely be more than enough room for all three women inside. The house was also very close to the water, only steps away from the seashore.
“So how old is he again?” Corallyn asked.
“Nearly fifty,” Aazuria answered.
“Younger than I am,” Corallyn mused. “Maybe I’ll fin
ally be treated with respect now that I won’t be the youngest person around.”
“I doubt it. You will be obliged to act as though you are nine years old.”
“Delightful,” Corallyn muttered, gazing down at her young body with scorn, “simply delightful.”
“Remember, he thinks that I am an innocent eighteen-year-old teenager,” Aazuria said, making a face. She turned to stare at the massive double doors and asked, “Are we ready for this?” When the other two women nodded, Aazuria marched forward and pressed the button which rang the doorbell.
Before too long a portly but energetic elderly man came to the door. “Come in, come in! Mr. Murphy told me that he was expecting some young ladies. It’s a pleasure to meet you girls! My, aren’t you all so beautiful!” The short, round man with even rounder glasses quickly ushered them into the house, and looked around in confusion on the porch. “Don’t you have any more bags?”
“No,” Aazuria answered, gesturing to the sacks that they held. “This is all.”
“I see, I see,” the old man mumbled, scratching his chin, “well, right this way!”
He bounced into a room with sofas and encouraged the girls to sit down. He rubbed his hands together in excitement. “It’s been so long since we had a lady in the house! Or a child! Or even a permanent resident! Mr. Murphy and his brother are gone out to sea most of the time. I do their cooking and housekeeping and laundry and whatnot, but it’s awful lonely here in this big house sometimes. My name is Mr. Fiskel, by the way. Where are my manners? What are your names?”
“I am Aazuria, and these are my sisters Elandria and Corallyn.”
“My goodness, what unusual names! Aazuria, Elandria, Corallyn. I couldn’t believe it when Mr. Murphy told me there were young ladies coming to stay with us! I’ll go and let him know you’re here and then cook something delicious up for lunch—do you girls have any preferences?”
“We are fond of seafood,” Aazuria said with a smile.
“Seafood! Seafood is my specialty,” the old man said happily. “I guarantee this lunch will be the freshest, yummiest seafood that you ever did taste!”
This was his claim as he arrogantly ambled away. Aazuria looked at her sisters, exchanging secretive smiles. Corallyn couldn’t conceal a small giggle.
“He’s cute,” Corallyn whispered. “Thank heavens we can eat real food again and don’t have to live on those awful things called hamburgers!”
Footsteps echoed on the white marbled floors of the imposing foyer, heralding the arrival of the man of the house. When Trevain Murphy entered the room, Corallyn’s judgmental eyes roamed over him languidly from head to foot. Elandria, however, turned to observe her sister’s reaction. She was surprised to see the subtle light warming Aazuria’s eyes and the creases forming around her smiling lips. She knew without a doubt that her sister was somehow enchanted by this man. She also knew that Aazuria had a way of seeing qualities in people that existed far beneath the surface.
Corallyn observed Trevain’s limp and his wavy grey hair. She compared his appearance to the descriptions she had heard from the twins, noting his broad, muscled shoulders. She watched the way he crossed the room, eyes fixed eagerly and reverentially on Aazuria, hands outstretched in warmest welcome.
Aazuria rose and placed her hands in his, pleasantly surprised by the sight of him. In the daylight, he looked much more robust than he had in the somber lighting of the club. Of course, that had also been immediately after he had lost a member of his crew and had been in a very distressed state.
“I am so glad you chose to accept my offer, Aazuria.” Trevain was beaming. His face seemed to have been cleanly shaven, revealing a sharp and angular jaw. “I promise you won’t lack for any convenience while you’re here.”
“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness,” Aazuria said, inclining her head slightly. She felt the urge to curtsey, but she reminded herself that this was not Europe, and the rules of conduct had changed since she had last been among land-dwellers. “I would like you to meet my sisters, Elandria and Corallyn.”
“Hello,” said the captain, smiling and approaching them. “I am Captain Trevain Murphy. I hope you will enjoy staying here. The house is huge and empty, as you can see, so I’m thrilled to have some company. You have already met Mr. Fiskel, the cook, but you might also run into my brother Callder once in a while. ”
Trevain extended his hand first to the younger of the girls. “Corallyn, is it? What a lovely name. What does it mean?”
“I was named after a marine organism,” Corallyn explained tersely. The harshness of her tone and the precision of her words did not suit a nine-year-old; she seemed determined to dislike Trevain. “Some varieties of coral are valued as precious gems and worn as jewelry.”
Trevain nodded, observing the young girl carefully before asking. “What grade are you in, sweetie?”
Corallyn bit her lip and looked tentatively at Aazuria for assistance. Aazuria moved to the girl’s side and stroked her back reassuringly, surprised at how edgy her youngest sister seemed.
“She has been homeschooled,” Aazuria quickly offered. “We all have been homeschooled. I can guarantee that her knowledge far exceeds the standard for whatever grade she should belong to.”
“Ah, I see,” Trevain remarked, feeling tension radiate off the young girl. He swallowed, hoping that it would ease away with time. He could not help but wonder what dreadfulness she had experienced to make her so distrustful of him. He understood why Aazuria had seemed protective of her sisters at first.
“Well, Corallyn,” he said lightly, “you can call me Uncle Trevain if you’d like. Let me know if there’s anything you ever have need of, and I’ll try my best to help out.”
“Thank you, Uncle Trevain,” Corallyn said politely, glancing at Aazuria with a look of amusement. Aazuria gave her a feeble smile and shrug which went unnoticed by the captain as he turned to address Elandria.
“Elandria, is it? A pleasure to meet you.” Trevain reached out to shake the woman’s hand. “You look so much like your sister.”
Twisting her braid nervously within both hands, Elandria looked up bashfully at Trevain. She peered at his outstretched appendage, too hesitant to accept the offer.
“Elandria does not speak,” Aazuria explained to him quietly. “She uses her hands.”
“Her hands?” he asked.
Releasing her braid, Elandria deftly moved her fingers into a few communicative formations before returning them to her hair.
Aazuria laughed softly before translating. “She says that she is honored to meet the man her sister spoke so highly of, and surprised that for once I was not exaggerating. She also says that she is humbled by your kindness in inviting us to stay with you.”
“You speak very well with your hands,” Trevain said with fascination as a slight blush touched his cheeks. He remembered the sign language he had seen Aazuria use at the club with her redheaded friend, and reasoned that Elandria must be the reason they knew how to speak that way. He thought to himself that if things worked out with the girls, and if they decided to stay for an extended period of time, he would learn sign language in order to better communicate with Elandria. That might impress Aazuria. He pushed the thought away as soon as it had come.
“Elandria. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. What does it mean?” he asked.
Elandria hesitated before signing the words, looking to Aazuria for reassurance that it would not give away their secret.
“It means ‘she who lives by the sea,’” Aazuria translated with a smile.
“Ah, that’s suitable!” Trevain remarked with a laugh, gesturing through his windows at the stunning view they had of the ocean. “I’m sure Mr. Fiskel is working on lunch as we speak. I can show you girls up to some rooms so that you can choose yours and get settled in. I have to go to work not too long after lunch. I’ll probably be away for a few days, but please make yourselves at home and help yourselves to anything that you’d like
.”
The girls rose to follow Trevain to the second floor of his house. As he ascended the staircase, his limp became more prominent.
Corallyn thought she might as well take advantage of her supposed youth by bluntly asking, “What happened to your leg, Uncle Trevain?”
“It was an unfortunate accident at sea,” he answered, turning to look at her. “I always point out my bad leg to the sailors in my crew when they’re doing something carelessly. It serves as a constant reminder and warning—safety first! You never know when your leg might get crushed or your arm might get chopped off on those dangerous fishing boats.”
While Corallyn could not resist a grin at his adorable fatherly lecture, Aazuria frowned, wondering why she felt that she could detect the smallest hint of a lie somewhere in his words. She continued to listen to his voice as he pointed out the available rooms to her sisters, indicating which ones had the best views and the largest closets, but she did not hear the tone again which she thought indicated untruth. Each room was painted in a different color, and Elandria gravitated toward the warm yellow. Corallyn preferred her namesake coral, and was exuberant when she found apricot-colored walls.
Trevain took Aazuria’s arm gently as the girls selected their rooms, guiding her down the hall to the room he thought was best suited to her.
“This one is my favorite,” he confessed as he opened the door. “I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but the walls are painted a rich dark red…”
When Aazuria saw the combination of burgundy walls and dark mahogany wood, she turned to Trevain in excitement. “It is charming!”
He smiled at her reaction, noticing that her accent was far thicker than the one in Corallyn’s voice. Perhaps their family had moved around? He gestured further down the hall. “That room on the left is mine, and the one on the right is Callder’s—that is, when he decides to stay over, and when he’s sober enough to make it up the stairs.”
