Chapter 3

  Night fell, and a quietness had descended on the ship. Some crew still worked, but the rest had gathered around a ntern in the middle of the deck. The Admiral was seated between her first mate and Epelda, listening to the crew as they told stories, joked and simply enjoyed one another’s company. Epelda, unable to properly tell a story, took her turn by drumming. She tapped out a lively beat that had half the crew up and moving, while another of the younger crewmen joined in on his pan flute.

  The Admiral almost missed the new-comer amongst the merriment. The Countess had emerged from her quarters. She was nearly unrecognizable. She wore a very simple, undyed linen tunic and pants, her only marks of rank the white leather knight’s belt she wore and the thin silver circlet sitting on her head. Her raven hair was done up in twin braids, a youthful, simple style. The braids were slightly chunky, as if a child’s hands had braided it. She watched the others dance while leaning on the doorway, a wistful expression on her face. Fearing that perhaps their antics had woken the children, the Admiral slid from her spot and crossed the deck.

  The Countess offered her a small, almost embarrassed smile.

  “Have I intruded?” She brushed invisible dirt from her tunic. The Admiral shook her head.

  “No, not as such. Is there something you need? I can have my deckhand bring you tea.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble, might I come sit with your crew? My family is sleeping and sitting alone in the dark when I can hear all this is… lonely.” She flushed and looked away, gncing out over the railing to the sea. She sounded far away. “Basiano has never been fond of travel, especially by ship. He simply doesn’t understand how the sea can call to your heart.” The Admiral stared at her guest, feeling as if she were seeing her for the first time.

  “We… we got off on the wrong foot,” the Admiral said after a moment. “Welcome to my ship.” The countess smiled, this one luminous. It made her eyes sparkle in the ntern light. The Admiral steadfastly ignored how it also made her heart flutter.

  “I’m Nereida,” the countess said after a moment. “It’s nice to meet you…?”

  “Ael.” She cursed herself for offering up her name so easily. But then, they had each other’s names now. Perhaps being on even footing with her guest would make the Admiral feel less of an idiot. The dark-haired countess narrowed her stormy eyes, her expression changing quickly, so quickly that the Admiral wasn’t even sure she had seen it, before it was back to an almost shy smile. Unable to decode the other woman’s expressions, the Admiral plowed on. “There is only one thing if you pn to join us… you have to take a turn.”

  “A turn?”

  “Tell a story, sing a song, py an instrument.” The Admiral motioned for her guest to follow her back to the circle. Evander saw them coming and shuffled over, making space for the Admiral to sit next to her guest. His expression was knowing, and she wanted to know what, exactly, he thought he was doing , but she could not call him out here and now.

  “Have you told your story already?” Nereida asked politely. The Admiral snorted, and several of the crew chuckled.

  “I don’t do stories.”

  “Oh come on,” the countess persisted. “You must have had some amazing adventures that you could tell.”

  The crew had grown silent. No one had questioned her or pushed her on the ship before, especially not in such a public way. She grimaced at the pushy brat of a noblewoman, before a grin stole itself onto her face. She stood up, as if getting ready to tell the grandest tale. She cleared her throat. Several of the crew began signing to each other or whispering, making bets about what she was about to do. She gave them their moment, before clearing her throat a second time.

  “Once upon a time, there was a captain who didn’t have to tell any stories. The crew liked this, because it meant she didn’t force anyone to walk the pnk. The end.” She delivered the story with a deadpan tone, looking past the crew out to the sea as if the sea was meant to be the audience. She sat back on the stool next to the countess. Half the crew ughed, money changed hands, and the countess scowled at her. The Admiral winked at Epelda, who smothered her giggle.

  “Well if that is how we py it,” the countess said, standing in her own right. She stepped up on her stool, bancing precariously as the ship gently rocked. “This is the tale of how the isnds were formed.” The crew stilled, watching to see what this woman would say or do. The countess stood, her arms open and welcoming, her face lit by the fire, and she began to tell the tale.

  “In the time before the printed word, before sails, before kings and queens, all the nd was one. Humans lived in colonies controlled by the mighty Dragons. The Dragons, also called gods, ruled over every faction of the humans’ lives. Some were benevolent, others less so. And from time to time, they would take human mates to produce Draconic Scions, half human, half dragon children who acted as their diplomats, their protectors and their voices among the humans. Such children aged slowly, more like their immortal dragon parents.

  “There was peace.

  “But peace did not st. It never does.

  “The Dragons of Sky and Earth were a mated pair, one of three. But where Moon and Ocean had no children, where Sun and Clouds had only one child, Sky and Earth created a single egg, from which hatched two Dragons: Stars and Shadows. The Twins hated each other from the moment of their first breaths. They were separated; Sky and Earth kept Stars, and Moon and Ocean attempted to raise Shadows.

  “Once the Dragon Twins reached maturity, things began to change. Each of the Twins gained their own colony, but where most Dragons had three or four Scions at most, they set about making as many Scions as they could, to raise an army. Once the other Dragon gods realized the extent of the problem, they, too, began to create more Scions, in hopes of keeping the destructive brothers in check.

  “The war that swept over humanity and dragons alike was devastating. Humans died in droves to the powerful Scions and their descendants, who all showed signs of their lineage through their power. It seemed as if the death and violence would never end. The Ocean Dragon headed to the frontlines, where the Twin Dragons were set to have a final showdown. She moved into the fray, calling for peace, for an end to the senseless violence between Dragonkind and mortals. The Twins, caught up in their rivalry beyond reason or thought, each let loose an attack the likes of which has never been seen since; explosive fire and freezing shadow collided, not striking the intended target but instead freezing and shattering the Ocean Dragon. She was killed by the bst, and her agony, though it sted only a moment, rippled through her Scions and into the water that surrounded the nd. The nd was torn asunder by her agony. The waters of the ocean rose up, forcing the nd apart. Forcing peace.

  “The Dragons, horrified by the destruction, retreated into their Heavenly Paces. They left behind their Scions, however. Those of Dragonblood still exist; the Fire-Touched, the Sylphs, the Gnomes, the Elves, and all those who are not quite human have the blood of Dragons in their veins. The demons, descendants of the Shadow Dragon, still seek to do everything in their power to kill the Fire-touched, descendants of the Star dragon. It is said that the final battle of the Twin Dragons will occur when the Scions of Moon and Ocean come together in love and the Dragons return to cim the world.”

  She bowed, then stepped off the stool. The crew broke into appuse, some whistling and lots of murmurs.

  “But that ain’t never gonna happen,” interjected one of the men. The Admiral could not see who spoke. “”Cause them Sirens are all mad! They shattered their minds and went all feral.”

  “I have heard that,” Nereida answered with a little shrug. There was a slight bite to her words, as if she were annoyed but hiding it. The Admiral was well acquainted with that tone. She used it herself any time she went to court. “As I’ve heard the Moon-Touched were all killed three generations ago. Stories are simply that.” The Admiral felt her blood run cold at that remark. Did this Samander know of their family’s great shame? Or was it a simple observation? Nereida smiled serenely. “Who is next?”

  The next person to go was an older gentleman who sang an old, well known, dirty ditty. The Admiral kept gncing at the noblewoman, expecting offence from her but instead finding genuine amusement. She let out a belly ugh at a particurly dirty verse that included a carrot in a way that could not possibly be pleasurable. Ael found herself watching the woman most of the night, until the stories and songs quieted. Evander sang the final song, an old, sad song about a captain who lost his love and spent the rest of his days seeking the colour of her hair in the setting sun.

  The Admiral stood, offering her hand to the bleary eyed countess.

  “Dawn’s in a few short hours and I imagine your sprouts get up with the sun. Let me escort you back to your cabin.” The countess blinked at her owlishly, confusion on her face.

  “It’s right there.” She motioned to the door only twenty feet away.

  “Ah but I can’t imagine you can keep your sea legs when you are this tired,” the Admiral replied. “And I don’t want to see you get hurt.” The countess gred at her, her spine straightening. The exhaustion disappeared from her face, repced by a hard anger that would not have been out of pce on some of her fiercest crew.

  “This is not my first ship, Admiral. I thank you for your courtesy but it is wholly unnecessary.” Her words held all the warmth of the ocean in the winter. The seething countess got to her feet without the offered hand, and stomped gracelessly toward the door to her cabin. This time she did not sm the door, but simply went in.

  The Admiral stared after the woman for a moment, before she turned to Evander who was doing his best to look like he had seen nothing. He was fiddling with the ces on his boots, his brown hair covering his eyes.

  “What did I do?” she asked softly. “I was being polite! Why did she get mad? Daft woman.”

  “Begging’ your pardon, Admiral, but did ya want the answer?” Evander would still not look at her, though his lip was upturned in a little smile. She sighed heavily and nodded. “Ya made her stand out. Made her feel like a noble, not one o’ us.”

  “She is a noble!”

  Evander stared at her, his mouth agape. He looked like he was about to say something, his mouth fpping silently, uselessly, and then he changed his mind.

  “Goodnight Admiral,” he said instead, sounding tired. He stood and wandered back to their shared cabin. Alone now, the Admiral stared out at the sea, wondering how she had managed to bungle the evening so badly. The waves crashed below, their constant, calming sound soothing her. Once her thoughts slowed and her frustration abated, she headed to her cabin. Dawn would come early.