The Seadragon's Daughter (Dragon de la Sangre)

by Alan F. Troop

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  Mowdar growls and mindspeaks, “Take care, Undrae,” but he moves no more than a statue, his frozen muscles keeping the trident perfectly still.

  Just as frozen in place, I mindspeak, “As far as your daughter, I am mated for life already.”

  “That can be changed in a moment. Do you think we cannot reach your wife whenever we want? You have already seen that we have no problem visiting your island. Thanks to Derek, we now know just as much about Morgan’s Hole,” Mowdar mindspeaks.

  A chill runs through me. Suppressing a shudder, I shrug to show the Pelk leader my indifference to his words. The motion drives the trident’s prongs another centimeter deeper into me, allowing more blood to run from my wounds.

  Mowdar watches the blood flow down my body and shakes his head. “You are a stubborn creature,” he mindspeaks, pulling the trident back, all three of its prongs’ tips red with my blood. “I still don’t know if you’re lying or not. I just know you’re willing to die if necessary.”

  “Or to kill, if I must, to protect my wife,” I mindspeak.

  Dipping his trident in a glowpool, to rinse the blood off, Mowdar studies my face. “Undrae, you need not worry about your wife’s safety—for now. But I can’t let you shame either my daughter or me any further. I talked to Malka. If you don’t go to my daughter’s bed willingly tonight, she will call a li-srrynn by your nest tomorrow night and every other night my daughter cares to have you.”

  “I did not go to him to make you come to me,” Lorrel mindspeaks as soon as I approach the nest.

  I say nothing, pull the seaweed drapes closed so only our glowpool keeps us from darkness. “Funny thing. He told me you did,” I mindspeak, walking past where she sits on the edge of the nest, lying down behind her on the soft seaweed inside.

  Lorrel keeps her back to me. “When I woke up and you were gone, I was furious. I went to tell Mowdar that I caught you mindspeaking with your wife.”

  Sitting up, I mindspeak, “You don’t know if you caught me speaking with anyone.”

  She turns and flashes her angry green eyes at me. “I am not a fool!”

  “Did you tell Mowdar?”

  Lorrel shakes her head. “When my father asked why I was so upset, I could not tell him. It would mean your wife’s death. Possibly yours too. Either way, there would be no chance of you ever coming to me of your own will. I deserve that, Peter.”

  “But you did tell him I refused to bed you.”

  “You are not the only one whose mind Malka and her li-srrynn can dominate. When my father said, ‘Is Peter not paying proper attention to you?’ I was glad to tell him that lesser truth rather than have him ask Malka to search my mind and find out about your wife’s mindspeaking.”

  I sigh and lie back down. Once, I thought my first wife, Elizabeth, the most spoiled and willful female alive. Next to Lorrel she now looks positively sweet. Still, in her own selfish way, the Pelk girl has managed to protect both me and my wife from Mowdar’s anger.

  Somehow, knowing that helps me accept what I must do. I reach for Lorrel’s tail with mine and stroke it lightly. She shakes her head. “My father has made you do this,” she mindspeaks. “I do not want to be serviced. I want you to want me.”

  Stifling a groan, thinking how little I want to have my mind taken over by the li-srrynn again, I go to her and nuzzle my jowl against hers. “Now I can tell Chloe I had no choice,” I mindspeak. “And I can finally confess that I want you.”

  “Do you mean that, Peter?” she mindspeaks, her body relaxing, leaning into me.

  I nod. I know it’s a lie. She knows it’s a lie. But as we proceed, our bodies don’t seem to care one damned bit.

  31

  I wake and lie still, staring at the dark drapes, listening to the sounds of the Pelk waking and going about their morning business. Lorrel sleeps on, her body nestled against me, her tail overlapping mine, her head tucked just below my jaw, her sleepy breaths blowing hot against my throat.

  At home I love waking intertwined with Chloe like this. Some mornings I let her sleep another fifteen minutes or half hour just so I can savor the quiet pleasure of her sleep-warm body heating mine. I feel no such joy waking with this female.

  Shifting my body a few inches away from Lorrel’s, I smile as the air cools those parts of my body that had just been warmed by hers. If, for my survival and Chloe’s, I must have sex with this creature, I will. But I will not allow her the intimacy I would give my wife.

  Lorrel’s breathing changes rhythm. She moves a little and then turns, stretching and yawning, her eyes still closed. “You moved,” she mindspeaks. “Is it morning already?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She stretches again, extending her tail, her arms and legs, flexing her claws. “Maybe it is still storming outside. Maybe we will not have to get up.”

  “Sounds to me like everyone else is already going about their business,” I mindspeak, sitting up and stretching too, wishing Lorrel gone. I want time to myself so I can search Malka’s alcove again, and so I can mindspeak with Chloe without worry of discovery.

  Lorrel opens her eyes and mindspeaks, looking at me, “I feel too good to rush above this morning.” She smiles. “Thanks to you.”

  I nod. If not for the guilt I feel, I’d be luxuriating in the sweet soreness and the after-sex congestion I feel in my loins too. Still I have no desire to sit and share any morning-after reverie. “Malka will be upset if you’re late,” I mindspeak.

  “That old bag of seaweed is always upset about something.” Lorrel trills out a laugh. “She will have to understand if I stay back a little while to breakfast with my man.”

  “But it’s okay. . . .”

  Holding an open claw up in front of my face, Lorrel mindspeaks, “No, Peter. I want to do this. I want to share time with you. I will go tell Malka that I will not go above until later. I will go to Derek too and let him know that he should not wait for you. And then I will bring us back something to fill our stomachs.”

  “I can go with you.”

  The Pelk girl shakes her head. “Stay and rest,” she mindspeaks, getting up and stepping out of the nest. Lorrel fumbles in the dark with something nearby and phosphorescence starts to shine, illuminating her in her human form crouching over the glowpool, pouring more phosphorescent powder into it.

  “You already shifted shape?” I mindspeak.

  She shrugs. “I would have to when I went above anyway.” Lorrel holds out her arms and twirls around. “I like my human form. Don’t you?”

  I have had enough experience with females, both human and my kind, to know better than to answer a question like that with anything sounding any less than affirmative. “Of course I do,” I mindspeak.

  Climbing back into the nest, Lorrel grabs my head and crushes it against her small breasts, kissing me on the hard ridge just above my eyes. “Good,” she mindspeaks. “Why do you not change to your human form too while I’m gone? It will be more comfortable if we are both the same.”

  After she makes her way through the drapes, I shift to my human shape, sprinkle more phosphorescence in the glowpool and pick up my father’s journal. Sitting near the light, I sigh and begin to leaf through the brittle pages, studying my father’s ancient handwritten words.

  Here and there I recognize words that I learned in high school Spanish, but not enough to translate any full sentence. Flipping toward the back, choosing a page at random, I stare at each word and find nothing. I do the same on the next page, with the same result. On the next, at the bottom, I stop, my eyes frozen on the last word on the page, antidoto.

  Shaking my head, my heart racing, I put my index finger on it, trace back to the beginning of the sentence and read the words, No tengo el antidoto. I flip to the next page and read the rest of the sentence, pero creo tener una idea.

  {Chloe!} I mindspeak masked. {I found something in the journal.}

  {Peter! What is it?}

  {I found where Fa
ther wrote the word ‘antidoto’. I assume that’s Spanish for antidote. He says, ‘No tengo,’ which means, ‘I don’t have,’ but I’m not sure about the rest of the sentence. Would you repeat the whole thing to Claudia for me?}

  {She’s at the dock getting her boat ready. I’m supposed to meet her in a few minutes. We’re going to go get your boat. Tell me the whole sentence and I’ll write it down and bring it to her.}

  I mindspeak the words, {No tengo el antidoto pero creo tener una idea,} to Chloe, repeat it as she writes it and have her read it back to me.

  {Good,} she mindspeaks. {I’ll bring this to Claudia. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.}

  The drapes rustle and I mindspeak, {Don’t! I’ll contact you later.}

  {She’s there, isn’t she, Peter?}

  {Later,} I mindspeak, just as Lorrel works her way through the drapes, two chunks of dried fish in her hand.

  Closing the journal, I look at the Pelk girl and smile, “Good,” I mindspeak. “I was starting to get hungry.”

  Lorrel sits next to me, her hip touching mine, as we eat. “I am glad you changed shape,” she mindspeaks. “I like your human form.” Holding a piece of fish in one hand, she strokes the top of my leg with her other, not far from my crotch.

  “If you keep that up we’ll never go above,” I mindspeak.

  “You forget. I have spoken to Malka. She does not require me this morning. She said it is good we are finally behaving like lovers—maybe that will convince Mowdar of your intentions. She does not want him to risk any of our males by sending them after your wife.”

  “Wait.” Putting down my fish, I swivel toward Lorrel so I face her. “Mowdar indicated he had no plan to go after Chloe for now. I thought she’d be safe as long as we were together.”

  Lorrel frowns, takes her hand off my thigh. “Is that your only reason for being with me?”

  “No, but I want no harm to come to her.”

  “No more!” The Pelk girl turns her back toward me. “I am tired of hearing about your wife.”

  I stare at her thin, pale back, her long, thick black hair hanging almost to her buttocks. Obviously she knows things concerning my wife that I should hear. Just as clearly, asking her now would lead nowhere. I reach for her hair and stroke it. “What if we concentrated on you instead?” I mindspeak.

  Lorrel shrugs and takes a bite from her fish. I move closer, cupping one breast from the back with my hand, putting my lips on the nape of her neck. “Didn’t you tell me you wanted to know how it felt to have sex as a human?” I mindspeak, kissing her soft flesh.

  She continues to eat, saying nothing, showing no reaction to my touch. I uncup her breast, take her nipple between my fingers and squeeze just enough to have it crinkle up and turn hard. Lorrel sighs and leans back into me, and I take my other hand and do the same to her other breast. The Pelk girl drops the remainder of her fish, turns toward me, and I put my lips on hers, kissing her, holding her as we tumble together into the nest.

  Afterwards, we lie together, Lorrel on top of me, her head on my chest, her legs straddling me, her hands holding my shoulders. I stroke her back, her buttocks, her hair. “I like this,” she mindspeaks.

  For her sake, I nod.

  “Shall we again?” Lorrel mindspeaks.

  “In a bit. Let me rest a little first,” I mindspeak. But I begin to explore her body with my hands, stroking, probing, palpating until she begins to move with each touch of my fingers.

  “Is this resting?” she mindspeaks, pressing her crotch against mine.

  I press back, smile as I will myself to stiffen. “Sort of,” I mindspeak, maneuvering my body, sliding myself into her.

  She starts to ride me, but I grip her hips and hold her still. “Easy, there’s no rush,” I mindspeak. “Please, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I need to ease my mind. Please help me.” Holding her, kissing her ear, I partially withdraw and slowly thrust back into her. “Is Mowdar planning to harm my family?”

  Lorrel stiffens and tries to pull away, but I hold her and press myself against her. “I enjoy doing this with you. I enjoy it so much that I’m ashamed,” I mindspeak. “But I could enjoy it more if I could be sure my family was safe.”

  “No one cares to hurt your children,” Lorrel mindspeaks, her body no longer reacting to my touch. “Mowdar worries that your wife might do us harm.”

  I say nothing, only touch and stroke and thrust until her body relaxes and begins to move in rhythm with mine again. Then I mindspeak, “Why is he worried about one female?”

  The Pelk girl groans and pushes herself free of me, rolling onto her back. “This is so unfair of you,” she mindspeaks.

  I sit up, wishing my erection would go away quicker. “But I need to know. Would you expect any less if you were my mate? Please answer my questions now and I promise you, I won’t bother you with them anymore. We can lie down and just concentrate on each other.”

  Lorrel sighs and sits up too. “No more after this?” she mindspeaks.

  “No more.”

  “You’ve seen what our li-srrynn can do to your mind,” she mindspeaks. “But just as only our females have the power to sing into other’s minds, your females have the power to resist our songs. Because of this, during the Great War your females won all the battles, not your males. You Undrae are much larger than we, and much more powerful. Mowdar knows it would cost many of our deaths to defeat her.”

  “But if she’s in Jamaica or even on our island, she poses no threat to the Pelk.”

  Lorrel glares at me. “You think us fools. If she comes close enough to mindspeak with you, masked, then she can pose a threat to us. I am not the only one to think you have been in contact with someone. Jessai has shared his concerns with my father.”

  “I told him that was Derek!”

  “He told Mowdar you said that, and Derek confirmed it. Still, Mowdar has to watch for the safety of his people. But you should know he has not decided to send anyone after your wife. I think, if you give him no further cause, she will be safe.”

  “But what else can I do?” I mindspeak.

  “I do not know.” Lorrel shrugs. “I am tired of this conversation. You now have your answers.” She lies back down on her back, her legs spread. “You promised to concentrate on me,” she mindspeaks. “So do it.”

  By the time we finish and open our drapes, most of the males have left the cavern for a day of hunting, and most of the females have gone above to start their chores. Lorrel walks close to my side, choosing clothes for me from the clothes pile and insisting I try to choose clothes for her that she’d find pleasing—laughing at and rejecting my first three picks.

  She leaves me once we get outside, taking the path to the gardens. I go to the lagoon, find Derek lounging on the rock, watching the women work, and join him there. “So, old man,” he says. “Saw your drapes pulled this morning. Looks like you were a busy dodger. I’d hate to hear what my sister would say about that.”

  I frown at him and say, “So would I.” Lying down on the rock on my stomach, I bury my face in my arms.

  “Tired you out, did she?” Derek says.

  “Just let me rest a little,” I say, then mindspeak masked, {Chloe?}

  {You son of a bitch!}

  {What?} I mindspeak, stifling a gasp, wondering for a moment if she could know what Lorrel and I have just done.

  {Claudia and I are on the Grady White. Fortunately she can’t smell what I can. Your Pelk girl’s scent is everywhere. On the seat where I sit. On the back bench, mixed with yours. In the cabin, in the same berth as you. You had to give her my blue bikini too?}

  {She’s not my Pelk girl. I told you what happened,} I mindspeak. {I had no choice.}

  {She forced you to sleep in the same berth with her?}

  {Not exactly.}

  {What exactly is she forcing you to do now?}

  I say nothing.

  Chloe waits for a minute and then mindspeaks. {Well, I guess I have my answer. We’re going to l
eave. I want to get the boat back to Bimini in time for me to get home before dark.}

  {Wait a minute. This isn’t fair of you,} I mindspeak.

  {Fuck fair,} Chloe mindspeaks. {I’m going home. I need to let Claudia read through your father’s log books for you, and I need to make some humans disappear for you, and right now I don’t want to do a damned thing for you. So fuck fair, Peter, and fuck you too!}

  I want to shout. I want to pound the rock with my fist. But I can do nothing that might appear as if I were mindspeaking masked with someone. {Chloe, I love you,} I mindspeak.

  {Obviously not enough,} she mindspeaks. {I’m going to go now. Oh, by the way, Claudia translated that sentence for you. It means, ‘I don’t have the antidote, but I think I have an idea.’ I’ll be back in a week with her. God knows why. Try to have the next few paragraphs ready so I can give them to her then.}

  {Chloe . . .}

  {Enough, Peter. I’ll be back in a week. I promise I’ll be calmer then. Right now I’ve had enough. Let me go now.}

  I lie on my stomach until the rock begins to hurt my elbows and knees. Rolling over, I sigh and stare at the blue sky above, the white puffs of cloud barely moving in it.

  “You look sad, old man,” Derek says. “Anything wrong?”

  “The question is—is anything right?” I say.

  32

  In the evening, Lorrel and I take dinner in the company of Mowdar, Jessai and Malka, just as we have each night since I arrived. Everything seems the same as before, as it does the next night and the evening after it.

  On the fourth day after my talk with the Pelk leader, the hunting party returns early, carrying barely any catch with them. “Bad day?” I mindspeak to Jessai. He nods and averts his eyes.

  When dinnertime comes and I get up to go join Mowdar, Lorrel shakes her head. “Not tonight,” she mindspeaks. “We will feed here. Derek will feed at his nest. Mowdar has called for a hunting council. They will not want us about.”