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  He felt a burst of pride as Zeus strode toward him. Sometimes Sohm’lan struggled not to treat him like the small, blind, scaleless youngling he once was. Zeus came to the Vondorians in a time of great sorrow and brought about change. He taught the Mar’Sani to laugh and proved that despite his appearance he was Mar’Sani, brimming with honor and compassion. He taught his people to embrace other species, especially humans. Zeus kept surprising everyone, being stronger in body as well as spirit than expected. He challenged the people to experience the wider universe. He was the Striker. His presence changed Mar’Sani society and gave the Vondorians another person to love when Canry was lost to them, helping the royal family, and by extension their people, to open their hearts again. Zeus did not see the full extent of the love the people held for him. Not yet, at least.

  Zeus stopped at the top of the ramp and the troops hurried to form ranks. Three hundred and fifty Mar’Sani, faces covered in war paint, stared up at him, their murmurs falling into an expectant hush. Sohm’lan took his place at Zeus’s right, one half-step behind. By doing so, he handed authority to the princeling. He was close enough to see the emotion Zeus attempted to hide when he clasped his slightly trembling hands behind his back and widened his stance.

  The sky overheard was clear but not for long. Zeus’s energy rolled off him in an ever-growing circle.

  “Mar’Sani!” Zeus began the war chant. “We cause the earth to tremble. A warning to our enemy that we are not easy prey!” The haunting lyrical words fell from Zeus’s lips in the old tongue.

  As mesmerizing as the song was, Sohm’lan was more fascinated by the energy pulsing outward from Zeus with every forceful line. The soldiers and Monticore slapped their scabbards and stomped their feet in time to the chant, the sound accompanied by a roll of thunder.

  In one voice, the soldiers responded.

  “My life is mine to give!

  I will not be defeated

  I will not be easy prey!”

  The storm clouds Sohm’lan had spotted earlier on the distant horizon rolled toward them scarily fast. As Zeus sang, his energy flowed over the soldiers—not that Sohm’lan could see the power widening its influence, but he sensed it all the same. Was Zeus unconsciously giving them some sort of protection?

  “We are born of a distinguished people. We swim in the Waters of Poseidon.”

  The soldiers replied, “God of the Water, bless your young. May we be worthy of your rewards.”

  The wind rose, the scent of salty ocean riding the breeze. Sohm’lan had been participating in the chant but was waiting, excited for this next part. After the revelations on Qestaire, the soldiers understood the possibly of war was high. They had jockeyed to be among the number who would be sent along with Zeus. In anticipation of actual battle, they prepared an antiphon in honor of their youngest prince. Rarely did soldiers add to war chants. This day would go down in Atlaintician history.

  “We walk abreast as we are led into battle by the invisible,

  By the overlooked,

  By the son who hides in plain sight.

  We are led by the Striker!

  His sting is deadly.

  When the enemy finally sees him,

  They overlook him,

  Only to die by the hand of the Lord of Thunder.”

  True thunder rolled and Zeus’s energy wrapped around him, the heaviness settling upon Sohm’lan’s shoulders, cocooning him in its odd but comforting warmth. Zeus’s startled expression turned soft as his silver gaze swept over the troops. Anyone looking on could see how much Zeus adored his people, his eyes glistening with tears that did not spill over, and his back ramrod straight.

  “We are the seed sown in the past.

  We are the unbroken link never to be lost.

  We are of an honorable race!

  Beware of us our enemy!”

  The soldiers responded, the rhythm of their slap-stomp steady and unchanging, just like their regard.

  “Today we will make the earth tremble.

  Our enemy will hear us and know despair.

  They will flinch at the sight of us and know fear.”

  The wind lashed with such ferocity that it should have been howling. Sohm’lan sensed that this was another aspect of Zeus’s ability, for instead of nature giving voice to the ferocity, it amplified and pushed the words of the Mar’Sani across the plain and up the side of the mountain.

  “We are going to eat you,

  Our mouths water for the taste of your flesh.

  With your last breath

  I will inhale your soul as I claim your life!”

  The stomping feet and rattling scabbards suddenly stopped, as did the wind. The bass of rolling thunder brought Sohm’lan’s gaze upward to the dark purple clouds that flashed with streaks of lightning. Sohm’lan arched his neck, adding his voice to the hissing roar that ensued.

  The absolute silence that followed was eerie as a new and different energy rolled in. It did not collide with Zeus’s but engulfed it. Whatever had been going on in the sea had come to shore, and though Sohm’lan thought he should be concerned, it only took him seconds to recognize the incoming power. He had only felt the like many summers ago, before tragedy befell House Vondorian.

  “Thank the gods!” Zeus exclaimed as he turned toward the water.

  Sohm’lan remained where he was as Zeus rushed down the ramp and headed to the shore. He needed to follow but found himself momentarily paralyzed. The painful memory of that beautiful day, so filled with excitement, tried to play out before his eyes. He blinked away the vision that reminded him how that day had ended in disaster before the eyes of dozens of people. The signature of that power was forever burned into Sohm’lan’s senses and it now approached land.

  He wanted to rush to the shore, to confront who was coming. He wanted to wail with remembered pain and lash out at what had taken Canry. But he could not, would not, act so rashly. He had to put Zeus’s safety first and get his scaled tail in gear and catch up to the princeling, who stood on the sand gazing expectantly at two beings bobbing in the sea.

  Quickly, he packed away his emotions, and once they were locked down, he followed Zeus with brisk steps, assessing the beings but also noticing the very large school of People of the Longing offshore.

  One male smiled fondly at Zeus. He wore blue-green armor made of shells and gleaming like mother of pearl. His striped skin was yellow shark-hide, but the green stripes were comprised of scales. Sohm’lan had never seen anything like that. Mar’Sani had either hide or scale, never both. The armor resembled pictures he had seen in his father’s old, dusty tomes about the days before the Mar’Sani followed Pegasus the Explorer from the Waters. The being’s green gaze took in Zeus, his grin wide and toothy before he planted the butt of the three-pronged trident in the sand.

  Zeus held out his hand and the stranger took it, pulling him in for an embrace. It seemed the littlest princeling knew, and was fond of, the person. Sohm’lan turned his attention to the second being, who trailed behind with obvious reluctance. He frowned. The male scowled at Zeus with unveiled loathing. As Sohm’lan looked over the second newcomer, his suspicions rose. The blue skin and head of tentacles reminded him of the description the twins had given of Nethus, the one who had kept Canry from returning home. The scar on the tentacle that fell next to the male’s face had a very distinct mark. Zeus did not have needle-sharp teeth like other Mar’Sani, but flat, blunt ones that did not easily break through hide or scale, leaving behind a pattern Sohm’lan had seen many times over the summers. This had to be Nethus, the male Sohm’lan had sworn to bring low. But if he was Nethus, then… then…

  He turned his attention back to the male Zeus was speaking excitedly with. Surely not. This being did not resemble the Vondorians. Zeus, upon seeing his approach, grabbed the being’s hand and hurried over.

  “Warlord Sohm’lan,” Zeus said formally, but also full of excitement and love. “Please meet my brother, Canry.”

  He was once again stunne
d and grasping at the pieces of himself that threatened to break as the Monticore immediately saluted and bowed. He wanted to deny it until a pair of green eyes he would know anywhere met his. Zeus smiled fondly at Sohm’lan, giving him time to collect himself.

  He bowed at the waist, at a loss for words. He wanted to grab the young bull up in a crushing hug. He had a thousand questions. He wanted to take Canry and run, not letting him go until he put the youngling before Ashari and Valdor—and perhaps not even then. But now was not the time to indulge in dramatics, and he settled on saying something simple and deeply truthful. “Prince Canry, the Emperor and Empress will be overjoyed at your return.”

  When he rose from the bow, Sohm’lan met Nethus’s gaze over Canry’s shoulder. The male’s mouth was twisted as if he sucked on a tart fruit. With a surety he felt to his bones, Sohm’lan knew that one day Nethus would bleed for him.

  He carefully schooled his expression. One never gave away their intent to the enemy. With the ease of long practice, he glanced over Nethus and assessed the male’s possible weaknesses and strengths. He, too, had a bubble of energy surrounding him that zipped over Sohm’lan’s exposed scales with electric pressure. Now that he was close enough, he realized that Prince Canry was the one whose energy had rolled in from the sea and coated everyone. He was the powerful one, not Nethus. While Canry was as tall as Zeus, Nethus was closer to Sohm’lan’s father’s height, which made Sohm’lan seem short in comparison. Nethus’s thick skin did not resemble shark-hide, but the varying colors of blue making it hard for him to assess it. Though he was bipedal, gills were on the sides of his throat. His waist-length tentacles moved and subtly changed colors. Some were smooth while others had suction cups like the Orion. There were hints of barbs hidden in the writhing mass as well as on the back of Nethus’s forearms. It did not escape Sohm’lan’s notice that Zeus completely ignored Nethus and did not introduce him.

  “Warlord,” Zeus said as he peered across the field at the edge of the surrounding forest. “Canry reports we are being watched. Alert Otho.”

  Sohm’lan stepped back but not far enough that he could not come to Zeus’s or Canry’s aid in a couple of strides. The Monticore had already formed a protective barrier with Zeus’s announcement of Canry’s identity. He was also close enough to follow the conversation when Europa strode into the group, confirming that Terrens and V’Saar hid within the jungle.

  He activated his comm-link and contacted the squad assigned to assist Otho and related the information.

  “Understood,” the squad leader replied, but over her confirmation, he heard Otho’s voice as if he was attempting to speak into the squad leader’s personal comm-link.

  “Do not nip at me, Otho,” the squad leader hissed in consternation.

  “If I wanted to nip you, you would feel it. I need to speak to the warlord,” Otho chittered excitedly.

  “No, we need to get out of the blast radius,” argued the leader.

  “I already told you that the detonator has a limited range. I cannot retreat to your home base.”

  Sohm’lan heard something that sounded like a scuffle. “Squad leader?”

  “Sir, he will not return with us. We have already set up the bottlenecks, and they will work as they should, but—”

  “Otho is not one of ours to command,” he reminded the soldier.

  “Request permission to remain with him.”

  “Do not engage the enemy. If you need to, grab him and retreat to base. Just do not get caught up in his explosions.” After Zeus had asked for Otho’s help, Otho had briefed Sohm’lan on the devices that he would make from the shuttle’s spare parts. He trusted Otho’s expertise to keep his soldiers safe.

  Sohm’lan followed the two princes down the beach until Canry stood in the middle of the stretch of sand; before them was the field that would become a battlefield. Zeus curled his lip at Nethus, his silvery eyes pinning Nethus with a bloodthirsty gaze. Nethus ignored Zeus as if he were only a grain of sand he could grind under his boot. Sohm’lan deemed Nethus no different from the others who had foolishly discounted Zeus. In return, the youngest princeling turned his back on the skink, wordlessly proclaiming that the male was nothing. Zeus issued orders to Europa without glancing once at Sohm’lan for reassurance. The Feteine complied immediately, hurrying to close the Oethra 7’s ramp and relay a message to the Ursid brothers in their battlemechs.

  The warlords had the soldiers form ranks in front of Prince Canry, and they turned to face the forest. There was an outcropping of rock shaped like thick fingers poking out of the ground at the place where there the sand gave over to the field of tall grass. The stone was slanted, pointing at the trees, and there Zeus headed as Sohm’lan communicated Zeus’s instructions to the battle leaders. Do not fire upon the humans.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Shaneva

  * * *

  Shaneva waited impatiently for the remaining People of the Longing to move through the portal her brother had opened to Valespia. It was there that Zeus’s call had come from and Canry opened the way, creating a portal that connected Atlainticia’s ocean to Valespia’s. Those who had volunteered to go to Zeus’s aid gathered at the outcast citiplex. This was the closest gyre circle that Canry could use without crossing into hostile territory where the People of the Longing were not welcome. The Numina would rather kill the People of the Shore than deal with them.

  The last several weeks, Shaneva had helped Canry drum up support among the People of the Longing, knowing Zeus needed all the assistance they could give if he was to survive the battle to come. The People of the Longing knew and trusted her, still recognizing and respecting her as their Princess, but Canry’s appearance had changed so much since he was a youngling, that he no longer resembled a Mar’Sani but looked like the hated and rightly feared Numina. Some still had trouble trusting him, and she stayed by his side to ensure no one took advantage of Canry being alone. Though the Numina were feared, if one was caught without the company of others of their kind in Mar’Sani territory, their peril was of their own making. Many turned a blind eye if a Numina was attacked in water outside their sacred lands.

  Shaneva sighed. Helping Canry gain the trust of the People of the Longing had not been an easy road to travel. Little by little, though, headway was made. Together, she and her brother found those who would support Zeus and once people were satisfied that Canry was not playing a cruel Numina trick, they spread the word, many coming to her and offering to fight.

  Now, the crowd of would-be soldiers waited to go through the portal. That the doorway was in the middle of a gyre circle gave pause to a few. There were rumors about what went on in these judgment circles of the outcast citiplexes. But since Canry went first, along with a handful of those Shaneva trusted to keep him safe, the others followed only after a slight hesitation. She would be the last to go through. Once Canry sensed her on the other side, he would close the portal.

  On the periphery waited a Numina she had only seen a couple of times over the last few weeks. The distinct upper half comprised of an equine head and body with two hooves and the lower half of a seahorse was hard to miss among the mer-shapes of the People of the Longing. She thought he was either observing Canry or Nethus, or perhaps both. He did not attempt to hide his presence, but Nethus seemed oblivious to the watchful eyes, and Canry just ignored the male after she warned him of the stranger.

  As people entered the Ways, she moved closer to the being, her fear and distaste for the Numina pushed aside. She would not allow him to tag along just so he could be a spectator.

  One thing that was made clear to her since her fins had relegated her to the Waters of Poseidon was that, princess or not, she would be punished if she did not treat the Numina with deference. So instead of baring her teeth in warning, she addressed him telepathically. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  She detested using mind speech, something many People of the Longing could not use. It was also a secret she was forced to ke
ep from her family. The Numina refused to learn the language of the hands. Canry had taught her how to open her mind, making her one of the few able to bridge the two peoples linguistically.

  “What goes on here?” the stranger asked, bobbing a slight bow but not taking his bright blue gaze from the portal.

  She was aware of how closely he watched Nethus and Canry, but answered him anyway, if only to avoid trouble. “Prince Zeus Vondorian requested aid and Prince Canry is taking those of the Longing who volunteered to Valespia.”

  The male frowned, his dark blue mane floating in front of his eyes, shielding them until he tossed his head. “Numina do not have royalty.”

  “Prince Canry is not Numina,” she snapped, barely keeping back the derision she felt. “He is Mar’Sani of House Vondorian, brother to me and Prince Zeus.”

  At the proclamation, the male finally pulled his gaze from the center of the gyre circle to look at her. She refused to shrink away from his piercing eyes that reminded her of clear skies. “Pardon me for my rudeness. I am called Arion, Father has selected me to take over Canry’s—sorry, Prince Canry’s tutelage.”

  “Is that why you have been watching from afar these last few weeks?” She felt bold, though her hindbrain shrieked at her. Normal Numina did not pulse with restrained power, only the very old could be sensed from afar by those who knew what to look for. Nethus had taught her that the ancient ones were far more dangerous than any creatures claiming the wild depths. Arion was powerful, more so than Nethus, but for some reason he did not make her scales itch as others of his kind usually did.

  “Yes. Father said something strange was going on in these Waters and tasked me with uncovering the truth. I am told that Nethus attacked and attempted to kill the son of Poseidon’s favorite sibling and has been keeping people from the shore. I had heard of the male not born of the Waters of Poseidon but accepted as if he were a youngling of Poseidon. Though he is not my objective, I had hoped to sate my curiosity and see him swim here. Prince Canry is my primary concern, so I have watched and waited. Many things are not right in these homewaters and the people hide it well.” He scratched his chin with his hoof as he considered her.