Constant Read online

  “He will… Nethus will probably ignore anything I say, but….” She glanced back to where Warlord Sohm’lan prowled around her brothers, his gaze never straying from Nethus for long, even though the V’Saar were not far away fighting the soldiers. He deemed Nethus the greater threat without even knowing what was going on between Nethus and Canry. “But I believe I will have help from my waterfather.”

  Arion made a noise and she tore her gaze from Warlord Sohm’lan.

  “Nethus has narrowed his vision into too fine of a point, otherwise he would clearly see he is that one’s prey.” He glanced to Shaneva; his thick lips pulled over blocky-teeth in an odd grin. “Even untrained, your waterfather could best Nethus if he was stubborn enough.”

  She wanted to protest that Warlord Sohm’lan was not untrained but one of the best warriors Atlainticia boasted, but she understood that Arion spoke of his quickening. If someone were to train him properly, he would become a power to be reckoned with.

  “If he does not heed you, your waterfather, or Canry, tell Nethus he is called home. If he persists, you and your people need to take Canry from him forcefully.”

  Her heart pounded so hard she heard it in her ears. Did he know what he asked? “You are encouraging my people to defy one of the Numina. I will do it because Nethus is vile, but the Numina will retaliate. This defiance will bring consequences I do not think you are aware of. A defiance on this scale,” she waved her hand at the hundreds of people who floated in the water, “They will use that as an excuse to destroy us. I cannot ask that of—”

  “Princess Shaneva.”

  She looked over and a small pod that included Ado and those who had helped Arion swam to her. Brilliant eyes in familiar faces watched her with an intensity that spoke of devotion and conviction. “You have spent summers bearing the brunt of their displeasure on our behalf. We will stand with you, whatever the consequences.”

  She did not have close friends because they could be used against her. She had no power in the water, her title meaning absolutely nothing to those who ran the citiplexes. She kept to herself, doing what she could to help Canry and be the only one to reap the consequences of her small defiances. Just because she spent summers holding herself separate, it did not mean she was unaware of the names and families of every person of the Longing.

  “We know you would try to bear this burden alone, again, but you do not have to. It is time for the Numina to understand they are not our masters. We are Mar’Sani.” Their expressions were full of anger and she could see their need to act, however small.

  “I wanted to resolve the issue of their secrecy and subjugation of us without bloodshed and civil war,” she replied, not turning them away. Guilt rose as she considered accepting their help.

  “We will do as our Princess commands.” They gave her many sharp-toothed grins of anticipation and the pod formed a circle around her, waiting for her orders.

  Arion watched with a raptor’s sharp gaze. “Is the situation so precarious that the People of the Longing would fight others who live in the Waters of Poseidon?”

  “Initially, I thought you were lying about where you came from, but your question shows how ignorant you are of life in the Waters,” she confessed. “The Numina despise the People of the Shore and of the Longing. Against our will, they have chipped us, requiring that we keep their existence from our emperor. They have brutalized us to keep us under their thumb. The Numina are fortunate they have not been killed while they sleep. Generation after generation, we have searched for a solution that would remove us from the usurpers’ rule. Despite what Nethus had done to me, I still pursued a non-violent way to break from them. I am done, Arion. The Numina will release us.” She snapped her teeth, not wishing to give more of her plans away. Once Canry was safe, she would decide what to do next.

  “If I had known…” Arion shook his head, his mane fluffing up. “Those are useless words. I know you have no reason to trust me, but please hold onto your plans until I speak with Father and my siblings. I, too, would like to resolve this without bloodshed.”

  “Though I dare not trust you, you are the only Numina who wants Canry to spend time on shore. For that alone I will do as you ask, and I will wait. But not forever. You have a week.”

  She was surprised by his respectful bow. “I will meet with you again before the end of seven days, Princess Shaneva.”

  He sank down, submerging completely before he disappeared, and the wave of a portal’s energy washed over her. The circle of People of the Longing closed around her, and though she was curious as to why they gave their support now, she could not bring herself to inquire.

  The fighting on the field was winding down. Though, the V’Saar did not seem to understand they had lost, refusing to retreat or surrender. For the first time, she registered a people of metal fought alongside the Mar’Sani. When she asked her brethren where they had come from, all she got were shrugs and stories about how the metal people popped out of nowhere in the middle of the enemy. She was intrigued when told they fought only with the strength of their hands.

  “I climbed higher in order to see.” Ado directed her gaze to a mound of rounded boulders that sat on edge of sea and shore. He grew more excited as he then pointed to the finger-like rocks jutting out of the soil near the plains. “Prince Zeus jumped on that outcropping, drew one of his swords and raised his hands to the air, yelling, ‘Hunter! Here I am! My mouth waters for the taste of your flesh!’”

  Ado waved his hand in the air, mimicking what he saw. “Lightning lit up the sky, bolt after bolt speared down from the heavens and the thunder became deafening, then… then Prince Zeus leaped at the humongous bug, landing on the ground in front of it. I thought he perished when the bug ran over him. Warlord Sohm’lan went…” The whole pod visibly shivered, growing momentarily silent.

  “I thought his reaction was the result of Prince Zeus’s death. But he and the Monticore came out of the V’Saar horde carrying Zeus by his arms, as if afraid he would rush back into the fray if they released him. It was then that these other beings of metal appeared and the V’Saar died more quickly.”

  Ado’s recounting caused Shaneva to become lost in memories. Easily she could imagine her youngest brother jumping into a challenge of overwhelming odds. Even when he was blind, he had used furniture to leap on top of Azaes and Mestor who were usually brawling like ill-tempered bulls. And again, a couple summers later, when Rathmar, Ariafella, and Zeus had been kidnapped. They were really after Ariafella but had grabbed Zeus and his best friend as well to sell as rare and uncommon beings in an auction far away. They underestimated Zeus since he was blind and Ariafella because she was female. There too, Zeus had jumped from a tall stack of crates to kill the brutes who had collared Ariafella and would have done much more if her attacker had not been interrupted by a wrench to the back of his skull.

  She was glad she had not been there to see her little brother do that. Shaking herself from her memories, she turned back to the pod and asked what Arion needed them for, they showed her the capsule and relayed Arion’s instructions.

  Nethus moved around Canry, drawing her attention. Warlord Sohm’lan was a few steps away speaking to the other warlords and did not see Nethus say something to Zeus. Immediately, she moved to the shore, her self-appointed protectors following. Warlord Sohm’lan glanced at her and almost smiled but followed her gaze to where Nethus had reached out to pull Zeus and Canry apart. Warlord Sohm’lan moved more quickly than she thought possible, dragging Nethus away from her brothers. Canry and Zeus crumpled to the ground, still wrapped in each other’s arms and holding the trident upright.

  The song had cut off, allowing everyone to hear Nethus challenge Warlord Sohm’lan. “Do you know who I am?”

  “I care not who you are. If you touch either of them again, I will tear your arm from its socket.” Her waterfather was savage in a way she had never witnessed.

  Nethus heard it too—Sohm’lan’s desire to hurt him—and straightened to his
full height so that he glared down at him. “Now, if you will allow me by, I will gather Canry and return home.”

  Shaneva used her arms to move across the wet sand as quickly as she could. Those sworn to her split in half, one group staying with her and the other remaining knee keep in the water. With quiet desperation she opened her mind to her waterfather, pushing a fervent ‘do not let Canry go’ at him. Warlord Sohm’lan stood between Nethus and her brothers, and when he glanced at her, she vigorously shook her head, unwilling to give away to Nethus that she was behind him.

  “Prince Canry will not be going anywhere with you unless he desires to. Now, it appears he cannot state his wishes, so he will stay with his family until he says otherwise.”

  “You cannot—”

  “Nethus, you are called home.” She needed to stop him from arguing. She did not think Warlord Sohm’lan would be cowed by the toad, but she could not let her waterfather officially challenge Nethus until he knew what he was up against.

  “I cannot leave without him,” Nethus ground out, looking around at the Monticore who had silently closed in and encircled her brothers. Canry’s head rested on Zeus’s shoulder, his face turned away from Nethus.

  “Right now, he is where he needs to be,” she said with all the authority she could muster.

  Zeus turned and glanced at her, giving her an exhausted smile of gratitude. Nethus stormed by her, his expression promising pain would be in her future. She ignored him, giving Warlord Sohm’lan her full attention as she attempted to hide her trembling. “He can stay for as long as he wishes and even go inland, but he needs to be renewed by sea water for a couple of hours each day.” She motioned for those holding the shell-incrusted capsule to hand it off to nearby Monticore. As it was carried onto land, something in her eased and when she met Warlord Sohm’lan’s smile, she said, “A group of us will be close by if he needs us.”

  Zeus’s grin widened. That he would care for Canry eased her worries even more.

  She crawled back to the water. She needed to find accommodations for her people. There was a citiplex near Haven, an outcast city so they might not shun Mar’Sani. Other than her, none could portal back to Atlainticia, and she only had enough power to portal herself. They would have to wait until Canry had the energy to send them home. Until then, they would stay on Valespia and protect her brother from any dangers in this ocean.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mestor

  * * *

  Mestor wavered in and out of consciousness, sandwiched between the oozing floor and the V’Saar. But every single time he opened his eyes, his twin was there, visible in the small slit between the bug and the floor. The fool was lying on his stomach in the mess of V’Saar body fluids and blood, his fingers entwined with Mestor’s outstretched hand. He talked to Mestor in angry, hushed tones, his eyes reflecting fear and worry. Then Azaes cussed at him, promising retribution if Mestor did not speak to him. Mestor’s wheezing laugh turned into a scream of pain when the bug was successfully lifted off him by a dozen soldiers and one Dire D’Noss youngling. Azaes’ grip on his hand turned crushing as his brother pulled him out from beneath the bug.

  Fools, he thought. Neither Kryp nor Azaes wore protective suits. Mestor coughed as if he were fighting off a lung illness. Had he breathed in the ooze?

  “What is the slug slime on the floor?” Doctor Solon sounded as if he were faraway, but he was there in Mestor’s face when he was rolled to his side. He could not hold back the bellow of pain.

  Azaes ignored the doctor, still chastising Mestor. “Just wait until Sohm’lan hears what you did.” He kneeled next to Mestor’s head.

  “Will he be all right?” Kryp asked over Azaes’ shoulder. His antennas were curled tight to his head and bright red.

  Doctor Solon did not answer but tried to disengage the suit’s faceplate that did not want to come loose. The doctor hiss-clicked as he used a tool to pry it off. All the movement shot agony through Mestor’s body, and he was resigned to the fact that extracting him from the exoskeleton was going to be quite unpleasant.

  Once the covering was lifted, Doctor Solon wiped Mestor’s face with a dry cloth. Even that gentle motion hurt. “Did you swallow any of this muck?” Doctor Solon asked bluntly before going to work on disengaging the rest of the suit.

  Mestor’s mouth tasted foul and he remembered some of the ichor had gotten past his lips, but he had spit it out. He was going to tell Doctor Solon exactly that, but darkness fell over his vision.

  Pain speared through his body, and Mestor bellowed and fought. He could not see anything. Was he blind? He could not remember what happened, his mind a fuzzy mess. Something was on his face and he went to snatch it off, but he found his limbs were held down, which only incited him to fight harder.

  Someone called his name, repeating it over and over. They did not sound like Sohm’lan. Poseidon’s balls! Where was his amor? Was Sohm’lan attacked too? Was he fighting for his life somewhere close by? He roared!

  “Poseidon’s balls, Solon! What is wrong with him?”

  Mestor grabbed onto the sound of his brother’s voice, blinking rapidly, trying desperately to see.

  “V’Saar poison, I think. We need to get him to the ship, but every time he…”

  “Move aside!” Azaes snarled.

  Mestor’s eyes opened and he could finally see. Oh. His twin snarled at everyone like an out-of-control bull.

  “Azaes,” he breathed.

  His brother spun and fell to his knees next to Mestor. “You stupid fool! You have to quit fighting everyone so we can get you back to The Gorgon.”

  “I did not mean…”

  “I know. You have to control yourself so they can help,” Azaes pleaded.

  Kryp knelt next to Azaes, his youthful expression grave. “I can carry him to the main hall where the cryochamber is waiting.”

  “What?” He did not understand.

  “You are wounded beyond what the medtechs can handle on the ship.” That was saying something since The Gorgon’s medical facility was one of the best. “They have nothing that will combat the venom we think is in your system. We are going to suspend you in the cryochamber until we can get you to Haven’s medical facilities.” Azaes’ expression dared Mestor to argue with him.

  He groaned. He was going to miss all the fun.

  Azaes’ eyes went flat, and Mestor knew that his brother sensed his thoughts or disappointment. Mostly, they were in-tune with each other’s emotions when they paid attention to what they felt from each other. Occasionally, they could pick up thoughts but that was rare.

  “Your heart stopped twice. If you complain, I will tear your tail off and beat you with it. Now you will hold still while Kryp carries you.”

  “Yes, my prince,” Mestor’s sarcastic reply was cut off with a chest-burning cough.

  Azaes moved aside. Mestor marveled at how strong Kryp’s thin frame was as he was lifted Mestor without a grunt or staggering. Darkness encroached on his vision, but he clung to consciousness, afraid he would really die if he allowed himself to be pulled into unconsciousness again.

  In the wide corridor, a glass capsule waited for him. Dr. Solon typed quickly on the attached data screen. Standing along the walls, the soldiers and Monticore watched, giving Mestor the impression they were standing vigil. He was not dead yet and managed a rude gesture that caused a few to crack a smile.

  “We need to strip him and wipe him down,” Dr. Solon said, approaching with a pair of snips that would leave his clothing in tatters.

  Somehow, Kryp manhandled him gently enough. Mestor did not cry out in pain, instead gritting his teeth through the worst of it. Between Azaes and Dr. Solon, they had him naked in no time, or perhaps he passed out again, which was entirely possible.

  When Kryp laid him in the capsule, Mestor clasped his arm, alarmed at how weak he was when his grip faltered, and his hand slipped off. “You would make an excellent caregiver,” he said, needing to ensure Kryp understood that Mestor appreciated
his help.

  Kryp beamed. “You give me high praise, Prince Mestor.”

  Grumpy Solon pushed a beaming Kryp aside to close the glass lid, grumbling about unnecessary socializing and idiot princes who had no sense of urgency. Mestor wanted to argue but exhaustion pulled him into sleep instead.

  “Azaes!”

  Mestor smacked his lips trying to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, disliking the chemical-tinged air that coated his tongue. He could not feel his body and his thoughts were sluggish. He felt as if he had woken in the middle of a hibernation cycle.

  “Ariafella!”

  He groaned. Could his twin not save moon eyes and poetry talk for private and not in Mestor’s quarters? He was happy for his brother but seeing him with Ariafella only made him ache for what he did not have.

  Wait… He did have Sohm’lan to himself now. Where was he?

  He pried his eyes open and blinked slowly. The air around him was foggy and cold. He stared at the glass dome that covered him, trying to remember what happened. A black-scaled hand was pressed against the glass. The view above proved he was moving but he felt nothing. When the ceiling motifs stopping passing by, he heard noises he could not identify, and he looked back at the hand that had not moved once.

  “Are you injured?” Ariafella sounded frantic.

  Blinking several more times, he managed to follow the arm up to Azaes. Ariafella hugged his neck, her white-scaled brow pressed against his. Zeus’s quirky, awkward younglinghood friend had grown into a formidable female who Mestor would be proud to call sister.

  “I am fine, my love,” Azaes replied.

  Mestor wanted to roll his eyes but they were not working correctly.

  “My idiot twin, on the other hand, is a mess. Walk with us to the infirmary.” Azaes pressed his forehead to hers again and suddenly Mestor wanted Sohm’lan.

  “Do we have news of Zeus and Sohm?” his brother asked, and she gave him a wry grin.