Chapter 63

  Nereida climbed up the rope dder that one of the crew had thrown down. Her muscles burned after swimming through the waves, but she felt a strange peacefulness in her heart now. She had needed the peace, after her wife’s dramatic prophetic utterance. She could only imagine the strain it put on Ael. Her wife had not opened up about the cost, or how it had affected her now that she was no longer trapped. The days she had not woken up had been beyond stressful. Nereida had survived by telling stories to the egg as they had worked. The egg, a little girl or a female dragon. She had felt the life within more than once, but it was still undeveloped, unable to tell what she would be when she emerged.

  The deck of the ship was blessedly firm after weeks of walking on only sand. She took a moment to right herself, to feel the waves through the wood, when Basiano emerged from below deck. Her brother looked five years older. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, his shirt had stains on the shoulders. His normally well-controlled hair was sticking up everywhere. He held a small bundle to his chest, likely his new daughter. He looked worried, lost.

  “Bassi!” At his name, he lost the years, running toward her, pulling her into a one-armed hug.

  “Nerry.” His voice broke as spoke. A tear escaped him. “I thought you were lost.”

  “Lost but not gone,” she whispered. “I’m here.” She buried her face in his chest like she had when they were children, and she wept in relief. He still smelled faintly of a hearth. He was the home of her childhood. He was safety.

  “Who took you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “I can’t…”

  “No one,” she told him. “I will tell the story tonight, but I can’t…I can’t repeat it over and over.” He nodded, squeezing her tightly once more.

  Ael was suddenly beside them, having given them enough space for their reunion. She had the egg tied to her back, and Basiano saw it. His posture shifted, and he tightened his grip.

  “You need to talk to your son. Your youngest.” He let out a breath. “Are you… are you alright, Nerry?”

  “I’m fine,” she promised. “Hungry for something other than dried fish,” she added with a cheeky smile. She leaned in, taking in the scent of childhood, before she stood up, stood tall, and stood beside her wife. “I’m still me.” She said the st bit quietly, looking up at his eyes. He flinched. He was normally the one following the trail of her thoughts. “I’m still your little sister. Whatever was done… wasn’t permanent…. Except her.” She motioned to the egg.

  “I love you, Nerry,” he whispered. “This path… I’m afraid for you.”

  “Me too, Bassi.” She offered him a watery smile. “But we do what we have to for our children. I… I will talk to you more tonight. But I need to see my children.”

  She made her way across the deck, Ael holding her hand.

  “Together, love,” Ael whispered. “Reign in your waves. They need a rock, not a storm.” Nereida took a breath, squeezed her wife’s hand, and pushed open the door to the cabin. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the muted light, and by the time her eyes settled, she was being crashed into by a pair of small children. She clutched her boys tightly to her body. They were both crying, shaking. Epelda came up behind them, more subdued in her reaction, but she pulled Ael into a fierce hug. She was wearing one of Ael’s dresses, her hair done up in a fancier set of braids, and Nereida’s silver crown with fmes on her head. Both boys were dressed in simpler clothing, their py clothing, but the dye had been scrubbed from their hair, their blue locks set free.

  “Mommy.” Alejo managed to speak first. His grey-blue eyes were red from crying. Her heart broke. How often had they cried for her, and she hadn’t been here? “Mommy, I missed you.”

  “Me too.” Egaz said, squeezing her leg. She ruffled his hair. Egaz’s face seemed less chubby, as if he were losing his baby fat. She just hoped he was not losing his innocence along with it. “Was it fun being a dragon?”

  “Egaz,” Alejo interrupted. “No more dragon stories! I don’t like them!” He stomped his foot, and reached out to shove his brother in anger, but Epelda saw it first and caught the boy’s arms.

  “No,” she signed, sharp and quick with her left hand. Alejo took a step back, a mutinous expression on his face, and he gred at his younger brother. Egaz stuck his tongue out at the older boy, and Alejo stomped his foot again. He would have surged at his brother again, but Epelda held his tunic tightly.

  “Little loves,” Nereida said, kneeling. The princess looked up at her daughter and gave a nod. The young woman let go of the tunic and stepped closer to Ael. Nereida held her arms open, and Alejo came running back, burying his face in her dress to cry. “Don’t fight.”

  “No one believed me,” Egaz whimpered. “Not even Alejo or Sissy!” There was hurt on his face. Nereida kissed his forehead, wiped away his tears.

  “You said it would only be one night,” Alejo said crossly, stomping his foot. “It was nineteen nights, mommy!”

  “I know love. It didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  They managed to get out of the doorway, and Nereida brought the boys over to her bed. Ael was holding on to Epelda, the adolescent girl shaking as she cried silent tears. Nereida lifted Alejo and then Egaz onto the bed, kissed them both.

  “I’m gd you have your hair back,” she said to them. “Did one of the sirens help you?”

  “Jules,” Alejo said softly. “He’s nice. And Sissy doesn’t cry as much when he holds her hand.” The adolescent flushed, shooting an exasperated gre at the seven year old boy.

  “There is more,” Nereida began, taking the egg from Ael as the Admiral and their daughter sat on either side of the boys. “This… this is a dragon egg.” Alejo stared at her with disbelief and anger. He seemed about to yell, but she pressed on. “Your sister is growing inside.” She took the egg and carefully pced it between the two boys. “Touch the shell carefully, feel her life inside.”

  “Mommy…” Alejo managed to say, his hand on the shell. “People don’t y eggs.” He sounded indignant, his understanding of the world challenged.

  “Dragons do,” Egaz said smugly. “Hi baby sister.” He pced a gentle kiss on the shell and then made a face. “She’s sandy.” Epelda was signing furiously, as if she could not figure out which question to ask first.

  “We turned into dragons.” Ael spoke for the first time. “I don’t remember much, but I know this is our egg. We made it, with our magic.” Epelda made a little surprised sound, pointing back and forth between the two wives. “Yes, Epelda.”

  “She’s Moon-Touched,” Egaz said brightly. Nereida stared at her youngest son.

  “How?” she could not even manage to get the rest of the question out. The answer was obvious, but the child spoke anyway.

  “I heard it.” That was not the answer she was expecting. Star Readers got visions, like Ael. “The… Ocean told me. She told me when you turned into dragons, too mommy! That you were safe, you were just finally making my sister.” He pouted. “But I thought I’d get a baby to py with, not a silly egg. You can’t py catch with an egg!”

  “You can until you miss,” Alejo piped up. Nereida shot her son a look and the boy withered a little. “Sorry mama.”

  “Let’s not joke about throwing your sister.” She gently pulled him into a side hug. “Now, I have missed you all so very terribly. Maybe we could py a little? But… your sister,” she touched the egg, “let’s not tell the crew. Your step-mom and I have to tell the crew, but until tonight, we are just going to take care of her quietly, okay?”

  “She’s going to be quieter than cousin, right mommy?” Alejo asked a little anxiously. “She screams, ALL the time.”

  “Because babies get hungry,” Epelda signed, rolling her eyes. “All babies cry.”

  Nereida spent the rest of the day with her children. She pyed games with sticks and dice, pretended with Alejo to storm a castle where Egaz was being held, told them stories and sang to them. Ael had taken the boys up to the deck to look out of her spygss as the ship so that Nereida could speak to Epelda alone.

  “So,” she said, sitting across from the Sylph, “how are you holding up?” The adolescent made a face.

  “They were always crying, Water-mama. I… I couldn’t help them. Even Big Samander couldn’t.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what? You had as much reason to grieve as they did.” She smiled sadly, using words and signs together whenever she could. “I’m gd you had someone to help you.” She locked eyes with her daughter. “What is your name sign for Jules?” she asked, spelling his name. She flushed, and made the sign for the ocean, adding a J to it. Nereida practiced it a few times, until her daughter smiled a little. “Have you been careful with Jules?” Nereida signed. Epelda flushed red, and ducked her head down a little, before she nodded once. “That’s all I ask, unless you pn to get serious. Talk to me, please. Don’t… don’t hide things because you think I’ll be mad at you.” The girl nodded again.

  “He’s nice,” she signed. “I like him. And kissing him.” She looked away when she signed that, pulling her shoulders up as if she expected an attack. Nereida smiled, pcing her hand on her daughter’s knee until the girl finally looked up again.

  “Kissing is fine,” she signed. “But no more. Nothing lower than the belt. Not unless you want everything that comes with it.”

  “Baby,” Epelda signed, her face twisting in horror. “Big Samander told me about the nurse’s clogged nipples. They can clog! Ick!” She made a little sound of disgust. Nereida chuckled softly. She owed Basiano for that conversation. Hopefully he hadn’t traumatized the girl too much. “There are enough babies,” she continued signing, a pout forming on her face. “Cousin-girl and now egg-girl.”

  “The egg won’t hatch for a while yet, Epelda,” Nereida soothed. “We have time to be a family.”

  “You got married and didn’t tell us,” the girl’s signs were sharp again, her motions frustrated, her expression one of hurt. Nereida swallowed. She hadn’t talked to Ael about what they would tell the children. Of course, Epelda wasn’t really a child either.

  “We didn’t know they would marry us,” Nereida signed. She took a breath, trying to force away the memory of waking on the isnd. “That is not how I would have done it, given a choice. You did not get to stand with Ael, my brother did not stand with me. We did not make any of the choices we should have made. Still have to make. Which name is taken, and by whom,” she stopped signing, and looked at Epelda. “Do you care which surname you end up with?”

  “I like Dolphin’s Revenge,” Epelda replied with a cheeky grin. Nereida ughed. That would certainly be a choice. “It doesn’t matter,” she continued after a moment. “Just that I am with Mom and you.”

  “As long as you want,” Nereida promised, hugging the girl tightly.

  By evening, things had settled into what had once been their family routine. The smell of beans, cooked carrots and cooked fish filled the cabin. Nereida ate happily, thankful for a break from the chewy meals they had on the beach. The beans tasted amazing in comparison. Her sons looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

  “They aren’t that good,” Alejo grumped.

  “Better than dried seaweed,” Ael said. The boy made a gagging noise, but stopped compining about the beans. The egg was in Ael’s p, covered with a wool bnket. Without easy access to fire, they had to take turns carrying it against their bodies. Nereida recalled how uncomfortable she had been when Egaz had been growing inside her. Being an egg-parent seemed like a better deal.

  Bedtime routine involved extra stories and cuddles, both boys not letting go of her hand until they fell asleep. Nereida sat in the dark, holding their little hands, tears on her face. She was home, they were safe. The weight of the st nearly three weeks lifted, and she let the tears go, let the pain go, and just let herself be. She sat with the boys as they slept for a while, listening to their breathing, to the gentle sound of the waves outside. She found her peace. But she knew it could not st, and she could not stay in the moment forever. She stood, wiped the tears from her eyes and went to find her brother.

  As luck would have it, Basiano was on deck, walking about while shushing a very angry baby.

  “Can I take a turn?” Nereida asked, coming up beside him. He smiled wanly at her, handing off the infant. Nereida tucked the baby in close, humming softly to her and patting her. She was pleased to have reason to sing some old lulbies that had worked on her sons. After a few moments, the girl’s angry cries stopped, and she let out a terrible burp, before closing her eyes and settling to sleep.

  “What’s her name?” she asked her brother, shifting the baby carefully back into his arms. He smiled sadly.

  “Iria. But don’t tell the boys… or anyone but your wife. I can’t have the name getting back to Kana. She doesn’t want to bond, and feels like knowing my daughter’s name will bind her.”

  “Iria,” Nereida smiled. “Peace?”

  “She’s a living, breathing peace treaty,” Basiano replied, somewhat woefully. “Her name will be a decration.”

  “I’m sorry one of your children is a political piece,” Nereida said softly, touching her brother’s arm gently. His low chuckle was full of bitterness.

  “Nerry, they all are.” She flinched at that. She had been away so long, she had forgotten what that world was like. “You will be too, you and the Admiral, and your children. I’m sorry Nerry. I thought you knew that.”

  “I did,” she replied softly. “I remember the dance. I will survive it. And so will they.” She leaned into her brother, trying not to cry. She didn’t have many tears left, she couldn’t after all of this time. “The fire-circle is starting soon, brother. Will you come listen?”

  “Of course,” he replied softly. “Just… know that I love you, alright? Remember that, when we get home?”

  “Always, Big softy.” He chuckled at that, and followed her to the fire circle. It was time to tell the crew, Ael’s family, her family, what had happened…. And time to pray that they would be as accepting of this as all the other stories she told.