60. Maren
60
Maren
I 'd cordaed myself to Kye the very moment we met.
Sidra nodded smoothly at my dawning clarity. “In a millennia, I know of only one other Naiad who cordaed in the same way. My daughter, Leibra.” She turned to the door, running a finger along the edge. “To say it is rare is to understate the extraordinary uniqueness of it. It is almost as unheard of as a bond broken while both Naiads live. It isn’t something you have control over. Only The Fates know when destiny is decided—when a life is truly saved from death.
“You could pull someone out from under a falling boulder, but have you saved their life? Would the rock have killed them, or simply injured them? You have no way of knowing whether they would have been utterly lost. And to some degree, you need to put yourself in mortal peril to rescue them. If someone is about to drink poison and you knock it out of their hand, have you saved their life? Or simply done them a favor? The rules aren't understood by living souls. They’re not meant to be. They belong solely to the Fates.
“So, you’ll perhaps forgive that we didn’t fully gather it ourselves at first. There is a scent between cordaed couples after they mate, warning other Naiads they are taken. Because of the nature of your cordae , your scent was unfamiliar. We didn’t recognize it at first. We had no evidence you bonded after you pulled him from the water, and we couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t send him away, as you did with other humans, when he followed you. Strangely, I wonder if the only being who knew was him . His heart called to yours, and he followed it.”
Sidra cocked her head, an odd expression taking root in the corners of her wrinkled eyes. “Naiads who corda - cruor through mating will experience a stronger bond every time they join bodies.” The Queen of the Juile Sea paused to ensure I understood her meaning. “I would assume it’s similar for those who cordaed through preserving life. I didn’t expect, when we pulled you below the surface to transition you, that he would fight so hard to reach you, or that you would do the same for him. And when we tried to pull him away, we realized what he was to you. That he was claimed by your blood, and therefore not to be touched. And it was stronger than I would have thought, that protection your blood had over him. It reminded me of Leibra and her cordae . A mated Naiad will protect their cordae at all costs, but that does not change the fact that they mated through lust. You are bonded through something else. You might lust for his body, but your cordae was made through preserving his vitality. And it was strong. I’m curious, child, how many times did you save each other’s lives before you left the islands?”
I gave a small laugh, coiling my hair into a rope. Our bond grew stronger with each time we saved each other? On the islands, I’d breathed life into him, and he’d killed a shark for me. And since then—too many times to count.
Sidra watched, a knowing smile on her lips. “That many? I’d ask if he obsesses over your safety.”
“He does,” I conceded. But I obsessed over his just as much.
She laughed softly; her eyes closed in amused irony. “All my careful planning fell apart within the time it took for you to swim him to shore. And then they stole you, and we did not know where. Nori hid and watched as they forced you onto the ship. She’d never seen Thaan before, but she caught sight of his eyes and felt her spiculae tingle. She followed the ship but was unable to track you further through the harbor, then returned to report to me what she’d seen. An unknown Naiad had incanted your cordae and taken you aboard a ship. I never expected to see you again. Why, little creature, did you reenter the waters of the Juile Sea? Why did you betray your blood vow to come here? What is it you seek?”
Heart thudding in my chest, my head awash with the Mihauna -damned obviousness of my bond, I gulped my thoughts away. “Answers.”
“Yes,” Sidra said, her hand rising to curl around the Breath of Safiro through her silk dress once again. “And did you find them?”
“Plenty of them,” I said in a gush of air. “But not the ones I seek.” I rocked back on my heels, breaking her gaze to scan the wall, etched in patterned tallies. It was a tiny room, with only a shallow pool that came to my knees. I ran my hand along the carvings, the stone moist and warm under my skin.
“This will be your room while you stay with us,” Sidra said, the rich command in her voice yanking my attention from the wall.
“I can’t stay,” I said, lifting my hand from the smooth ivory. “I need to return to Calder tonight.”
Sidra stepped away, her hand on the stone door. Realizing what was happening, I lurched forward, arms outstretched, prepared to shove at the old woman if it meant escaping. But Sidra was faster than she looked, and the door closed with a slam that rang in my ears, so hard and solid I was forced to snatch my hands back to avoid them being crushed.
Sidra’s face appeared in a hole in the door, large enough for only her eyes and nose to peer through. “My child,” she said. “Your stay will prove longer than that.”
For a single morning, noon, and night, I paced the stone room.
As far as I could see, there was no lock on the door, and therefore no key. I summoned water to force it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Silk-clad Naiads came to bring me meals, though they refused to answer any of my questions, their gazes downcast as they took my empty plate and left.
I didn’t see the Queen again.
In Naiad form, I curled in my little pool, watching the blue lights glow across the stone ceiling. It was impossible to know if it were day or night, but the moon had been three days from full when I left, and I worried if I stayed too long, I’d miss its zenith in the sky.
It was quiet. It was lonely.
Thoughts of Kye were my company, though they did little to comfort me. I closed my eyes and imagined him near, his skin warm and scent full of minty rain, and found myself cursing Mihauna that this entire time, I never knew he was mine.
“Creature,” Nori’s voice called from the door.
Dashing my cheeks, I glanced over my shoulder to find Nori and Olinne staring at me. I sat upright, teeth clenched. Nori was Sidra’s Oculos, her eyes and ears, and I held as little faith in them as I did in Darkness.
“Rise, creature,” Nori said. “The time has come to claim that which you seek.”
I made no move to respond. Settling back into the water, I closed my eyes. “I remember you using those words before you dragged me under the water. I shouldn’t have trusted you then, and I don’t trust you now.”
“You don’t understand,” Olinne’s musical voice answered. “You have offered your own loyalty to an enemy, and then surrendered yourself to our queen’s custody. By Naiad law, she is right to keep you locked away. You will never leave this colony while she is living.”
My blood simmered, eyes delving into the wall. Tallies. Prisoners counting the days that led them to their deaths. How old was this stone nest?
“You must be the one to kill her, Maren.”
It was Nori who spoke, and to Nori whom I turned to face, my mouth gaping. The Naiad gazed back with unflinching copper eyes.
“Our Domus needs a Prizivac Vode to lead it. Our queen knows this, but she is dying. She thought to raise you, to keep you human as long as possible, bathing in the moon’s power and growing your strength, so she could one day hand you the title. Were you simply an heir, she could pass her strength to you and live out her days teaching you to master your skills. But now you are an enemy. Do you not see what you must do, in order to be free?”
“You’re mad,” I said, though somewhere deep in my bones, I realized it was true. I was owned by my promises to Thaan. An enemy in these waters. By Naiad law, I’d need to take the colony by force. “I can’t even open the door.”
“I can,” Nori said, stroking her fingers down the stone. It swung open for her slowly, groaning against the floor, quivering at her touch. From the open doorway, the Naiads watched me.
I straightened, looking from one to the other in rigid horror. “You’d free me to kill your queen.” My eyes searched for any sign of deception, but they simply stared at me, impassive. “Why?”
“You were sixteen at your first bleeding,” Nori said. “By that time, our queen had seen enough. You placed your energy into the world and asked for nothing in return. Your passion fed your love, and life bloomed where you walked. She named you her heir the day you retrieved the Breath of Safiro under the ice, with every intention of teaching you to use your powers herself, when you were ready. And you were so close. You had two moons to go when we realized you had cordaed . Do you not see that we have served you since the beginning? That you have only ever had our loyalty? That to Olinne and I, you already are our queen?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t see it.”
Nori stepped through the door, hand extended. “Let me convince you.”
Her fingers uncurled, and she waited for me to take her hand. Eyes narrowed, I studied her. Red-wine hair, long and luxuriously shining. Faint freckles over the bridge of her nose. Deep copper eyes.
From the doorway, Olinne lifted her chin, waiting, a flicker of hope flashing across her face.
I stared at Nori’s hand, long and graceful.
It could’ve been a trap. It likely was.
But I couldn’t see how my prospects could get any worse. All Sidra had to do was keep me locked here for three years to kill me. It might not even take that long—I’d already lost two months of my life while returning from Rivea. The rules of Naiad blood and vows were obscure. There were no written laws; I only had what I was told.
Above me, Nori waited patiently.
“How do I know you won’t kill me the moment I take your hand?”
Nori smiled. “There is danger in all things, creature. How do you know the safer path is the one in which you do not?”
Sighing, I transitioned, curling my feet under my body to stand. My fingers slid into Nori’s, expecting to be helped up. But Nori closed her eyes. And my vision dispersed.