Chapter 44
Istared at my mentor. Blood?
Selena sighed. “’The blood of my blood will give me life. The blood of my enemy will grant me a death.’”
Moon-damned Naiad riddles. I snorted at her. “What does that mean?”
Shifting in the pebbles, Selena cocked her head, considering her answer. “When a colony member passes on, they offer their blood to their Videre. Well, not all. It’s a choice many make to extend their Videre’s life. To safeguard the next generation, to protect the colony. Did you know Sidra is over a thousand years old?”
“No,” I said quietly, surprised by the mention of the Naiad queen.
“The blood of the Domus, of any colony member,is a gift. But the blood of an enemy isn’t. It’s taken by force, granting a Videre more power than they would’ve inherited from the colony or lunar absorption. A Videre is very strong and, usually, very old. The descendants of a Videre can pull from the inherited strength of their blood.”
“Wouldn’t the entire colony be descendants of the Videre?” I challenged.
“No.” Selena dragged her fingers through the waves. “The early days of any colony are a patchwork of Naiads as strange and diverse as any other kingdom. A jumbling of river folk, looking to settle into the safety of a group, with no common blood to be found.
“Naiad colonies aren’t like human monarchies. The crown isn’t inherited through a direct line of descendants as much as it leapfrogs through generations. Naiads don’t benefit from turning the power to the next young leader. They benefit from one leader who grows in power, collecting the blood of a thousand souls.
“It’s rare for a Videre to corda-cruor to another Naiad, unless the other Naiad is powerful in their own right and from a separate colony, willing to leave their own. Even if such a Naiad is found, it’s likely a Prizivac Vode—a descendant of a Videre. A prince or princess, if you need to think of it in human terms. Many Videres wouldn’t give away a strong Naiad, let alone their own child, to strengthen a rival colony, when that offspring would otherwise one day feed their own lifeblood.”
I nodded remotely, watching the sunlight graze the waves as my stomach curled at the thought of a parent drinking the blood of their child simply to extend their own life. Strangely, the thought made me ache for the comfort of my father. My father had his shortcomings—but he’d never drink my blood.
“If you thought Aegir wanted to claim me for a corda-cruor, that means he’s a virgin?”
Selena laughed. My eyes drifted to hers, surprised at the prospect of my question being funny. She nodded. “Yes, though virginity is a human construct. Such a thing doesn’t exist in the Naiad world. You’re either cordaed or you aren’t. Your worth isn’t based on your lack of partners. If anything, it’s based on how powerful a bond you can create with someone else.”
When we met, I thought you were untouched by a man.
My cheeks flushed, and I quickly changed the subject. “How was Thaan able to become so powerful without a colony of his own?”
“Well, he has a colony, doesn’t he?” Selena sighed. “His is simply out of water. Thaan keeps his history private, but from what I’ve learned, he was the child of a Prizivac Vode, and therefore one himself.”
“No. I meant…” I leaned into the shore, the water cool against my tail. “Why is he important to Calder? How did he become an advisor to the King?”
Selena sent me a humble smile. “Sorry, Maren. If I’d mastered all the riddles in the world, I’d know how to wield the Triad.”
I frowned.
Somewhere, in the dark and musty corners of my mind, a memory surfaced.
It had been the first time I’d paddled out to Neris Island by myself. Nine years old, in my father’s canoe, I’d found Nori and Olinne—almost as though they’d been waiting for me.
Who are you? I’d asked. They’d been terrifyingly beautiful, like nothing I’d ever seen.
Naiads. Stewards of the Water, born from Theia herself, Nori had answered, tilting her head so her wine-red hair rippled out from under her in the waves. We number two, but we search for a third. A Steward of the Land. It’s through the Triad we will find balance.
They hadn’t explained what it meant. What followed between us was an imagined friendship. Years of island training, caring for birds and plants, healing roots and leaving seeds, all to bind me to Juile waters and help my power grow. It’d been so long ago, I’d forgotten they’d ever said it.
“What did you say?”
Selena’s gaze flickered over my face. “The Triad?”
I stared at my mentor in mild disbelief as memories continued to unravel.
You would need to become a custodian of the island, Nori had said, as though trying to discourage me from joining them. A curator of leaf and stem, ash and rock, wing and talon. You must sing to the land and creatures as if you were their mother, and you must love universally, whether you meet the pesky ant or the sacred turtle. You must save all forms of life, and in doing so, you must also create it. You would spend your youth away, driving a wedge between your people and yourself. It is not a fate made of wistful desire. Aloneyou would live, little creature. You would not belongamong other humans.
I’d swallowed, my small body growing very still. I remembered how the coastal wind had stroked my face, pulling strands of hair across my cheeks, rustling the hau bark tied at my hips. Waves had licked past my ankles, wet silt separating out from under me, sinking me into the shore.
When I spoke, I looked between the two women, long and beautiful, waiting for my response.
I am already alone, I’d said.
Shaking the image away, I gazed at the Naiad next to me. “Yes. the Triad. What does that mean?”
“They didn’t teach you the Triad? With all your corda-cruors to the land?” Selena sat up straight as if unsure where to begin. “It’s everything. Everything you touch and see. Everything in the air and water. It’s a Naiad myth and Naiad law, woven so tight it”s impossible to know one from the other.”
“What is it?” I asked again.
“The story my sister and I were told was of two brothers: Xeno and Corvus. They were warriors of Theia the Moon when she was a young starling, early in her rule. They were invincible—faster than an arrow, silent as shifting grass. Together, they worked as a team, reading each other’s minds as they fought—one guarding as the other attacked. They defended all life, but especially that of the sea. They could go anywhere and take any shape. They were kind souls, loyal and devout, and Theia sat on her throne in the sky, watching them protect and honor in her name, and contemplated offering them immortality.
“One day, Xeno came upon a young woman on the coastline of their sea, stuck to her waist in sand, slowly sinking. Androma. He threw her a rope, tied his end to a tree, and climbed into the sand after her, pulling them both to safety. As a reward, Androma kissed him, sweet and simple on the cheek. She went about gathering flowers for her basket and singing her songs.
“Xeno was entranced. He followed her, shifting into a rock, a leaf. Every day he crept away to steal a few moments watching her picking flowers in the sun.”
A child of Leihani, I was raised listening to legends each night by the fire. All Leihaniians were lovers of myth, and I leaned onto my elbows, my pale-gold tail stroking the shifting rocks, watching the clouds above while listening to Selena’s rich voice.
Selena arched her back, lithe and flexible as a young feline, then lowered herself into the pebbles beside me. “After a week, Androma stumbled on Xeno, disguised as a seashell. Caught, he shifted to his true form. She took his hand, leading him back to a bed of moss and petals.” Selena paused to wriggle her eyebrows at me. “They fell in love. But Xeno was troubled; he could offer Androma no money, no house, no future. Though it broke both their hearts, he told Androma to find another. In time, she married and had children. Xeno checked on her often, though she never knew.
“He was the rosebuds in spring, the patter of rain, the song of a lark in the meadow. He watched her sleep and laugh, and though he couldn”t call her his own wife, his heart was happy.
“The brothers continued to defend Theia’s oceans, though a new threat grew. A monster of the sea, a Kethos. Half-fish, half-serpent, twice the size of a whale, his mouth a gaping hole with rows of teeth like needles. Corvus and Xeno fought the beast every day, driving it back to its lair. But they began to age; began to slow. Theia became worried, so she came down from her throne in the sky to speak with them. I will make you young again, she promised. I will grant you life eternal. But you must slay the Kethos.
“We will not succeed, the brothers told Theia, for they had fought the monster every day for years and had not yet killed it. Surely, we will die before we win.
“Theia considered this. I will offer you a choice, she said. Bring that which you love more than any other and sacrifice it to the beast. Their life will give you strength, and if you die, I will bring you back.
“The brothers looked at one another. Corvus knew what his brother loved. Androma. But Xeno refused to surrender her life. They abandoned Theia’s offer. Years passed, and they became old men. After a grueling day of fighting Kethos, Corvus was tired enough to lie down and die.
“Knowing he wouldn’t last through another battle, he waited until Xeno was asleep, then left to search for Androma. She’d become an old woman as well. Widowed, her children grown and gone, she still foraged for flowers along the coast with gnarled hands and a bent back—and had never stopped loving Xeno.
“When Corvus found her, she listened to his story and came with him under the waves. Corvus took Androma to the monster’s lair and left her floating just outside. Before he made it back to Xeno, he felt the strength in his body return. His muscles firmed; his skin tightened. He was young once more—and knew Androma was dead.”
Ignoring the cool waves curling into my side, I rested my head in my palm and sighed. Selena paused, her eyes drifting out over the sky, her hands joining tentatively over her waist. She cleared her throat and continued softly, “He shook Xeno awake. Xeno stood, staring at his own hands, devoid of age and wrinkles, and knew what had happened. Betrayed, he made to attack his brother, and Corvus stopped him. Strike me if you must, Corvus told him. She died for you. It was her choice. Will you let her sacrifice be in vain?
“Though his heart was shattered, he went with Corvus to the Kethos’s lair. But at the sight of Androma’s body, he went mad with fury. He fought as he never had before—stronger, faster, blind with anger. He left his brother unguarded, and Corvus fell prey to the sea monster.”
Selena blinked against the wind. She opened her mouth, licked her lips, and her voice dropped to barely more than a murmur. “Distracted by his kill, the Kethos fell victim to Xeno. He drove his sword into the beast’s back, and the mighty Kethos died.
“Xeno sank to the ocean floor to wait for his brother to return from Perpetuum, the world beyond. He gathered Androma’s body in his arms and wept. For three days he lingered, until his heart could simply wait no more. He forced his own sword into his belly, dying in slow agony at the bottom of the sea.
“He awoke among the stars, and beside him were Androma and Corvus, both young and healthy. Theia gave each a kiss for reparation, a kiss of life, and offered each a boon. Back to this world they went with youth in their veins, their lives as warriors fulfilled. Xeno and Androma married, and the three became the Stewards—Xeno and Corvus of the water, Androma of the land.”
Selena smiled. “They became the three pillars of life, the laws of which govern us all. The lover, willing to die. The brother, slain in battle. The fighter, who ended his own life only when all he loved had perished. They represent the bonds of honor, family, and love.”
“The Triad,” I said softly. I’d thought Nori and Olinne had made it up, like everything else they’d ever told me.
Selena lifted her shoulder, her throat working gently. “So, the story goes. There is much in nature that aligns to the Triad. Have you never wondered why the full moon lasts three days?”
I opened my mouth and closed it. I hadn’t.
“The winter solstice—the longest darkness of the year, when the world sleeps for three nights. Or the summer solstice, where the sun lingers for three days in the sky.” Selena dipped her head into her chest, rattling off more, as if a list had been etched into her bones. “The mother, the father, the child. The past, the present, the future. The land, the sea, the sky. Birth, death, renewal. Creation, preservation, destruction. Beginning, middle, end. Mind, body, soul. Three braided strands in a rope. The tree of life: the root, the trunk, the branch.
“If you pay attention, if you look for it, three will always find you. It will stand out in the smallest details. Subtle words, secret thoughts. Everything of meaning happens in threes.”