Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
AURIN
The rain had eased, and the six of them were taking advantage of the muted sunlight spilling through the water in shimmering ribbons, turning the shallow water near the rocks into a dancing mosaic of bronze and gold.
Aurin floated upside down near the surface, laughing as one of the babies latched onto his arm with all eight tiny tentacles.
You’re not supposed to eat me, he teased.
The little octopus puffed indignantly and changed colour from a happy, shimmery black to a grumpy, darker shade.
Apparently, Salem said dryly from nearby, he has decided you are food.
Salem drifted closer, carrying two more babies bundled against his body. One baby sat happily on his mantle, tiny tentacles draped over his forehead like a living golden hat.
Aurin burst out laughing. You look ridiculous.
I am aware.
But very cute.
The fourth baby suddenly zoomed between them in a burst of excitement, scattering a cloud of glittering bubbles. All four babies immediately chased after the bubbles, squeaking and chirping.
Aurin laughed and laughed, and Salem entwined one tentacle with Aurin’s so he could feel the full rush of his joy, his pride, and his love. The pure awe that this family was his.
Aurin would never tire of it.
A shadow crossed above them, something on the shore, and Aurin saw a flash of movement and colour out of the corner of his eye. A person. He instinctively grabbed for their babies, pulling them in close. Did you see that?
Get into the den, Salem ordered.
Aurin rushed into the small opening, clutching his babies, his three hearts hammering. Be careful, Salem. Don’t go out there. Don’t let them see you!
I’m right here, Salem said. Blocking the entrance.
Aurin peeked out, and he could see Salem replicating a shadowy mass. He knew he would be blending in against the rock and that it was an incredible camouflage, but still, he worried. Just come inside, Aurin said. Come in here with us.
Their babies squeaked in fear. It’s okay, little ones. Daddy has you, he told them.
And then he heard it...
A mix of four tiny voices, overlapping babbles. Daddy dadda dadda daddy pappa pappa where? Where is Pappa?
Aurin gasped, and Salem sputtered. Was...was that...
Yes! Oh my..., Aurin cried. He was a flux of excitement and fear, feeling everything at once. He hugged his babies tighter. Pappa is okay, he told them. He’s okay.
One of Salem’s tentacles crept into the den, and Aurin was quick to hold it. See? Pappa is here.
They quietened down then. Aurin felt their relief and comfort. Their tiny babbles became soft chirps, and Aurin soothed them with a gentle sway.
Wait, Salem said. I see someone...
Aurin’s hearts beat in staccato counterpoint. A human? What is a human doing here? Salem, please come in here, I’m begging.
I can see them, and... Oh.
Oh what?
It’s Fyn.
Fyn? From the mountain faun?
Yes. He’s... he sees me and he’s smiling.
He sees you? How?
I don’t know. I’m going to morph so I can speak to him. Don’t come out until I tell you.
Aurin didn’t think for one moment that Fyn would hurt them but... Fyn? What on earth was he doing here?
Salem’s tentacle unwound itself from Aurin’s and slipped out of the den. Aurin held his breath and listened. Even the babies quietened down.
“Hello, Fyn,” Salem said. It sounded as if he was chest deep in the water.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Fyn said, voice distant to Aurin’s ears.
“Not that I am unhappy to see you, but may I ask what you are doing here?” Salem asked. “Don’t mistake my question—”
Fyn laughed. “It’s totally fine. You have younglings, and you are protective of them. Don’t apologise.”
“You know...?”
“Cern sent us.”
“You are not alone?”
“No. Zaq is here. He’s back a ways in the trees, watching. We travel in pairs. Safer that way. Voh and Cyd wanted to come. They loved having you and Aurin visit.”
Ah, the younger boys, Aurin remembered.
“Cern sent you?” Salem pressed.
“Yes. Said your younglings were special and that we are sworn to protect them.”
“Pardon? Sworn to protect them?”
“Yep. Got Cern’s protection, which means you got protection from the whole animal kingdom, basically. Ain’t no one or nothing gonna harm those babies.”
Aurin blinked, looking down at the four sets of big wide eyes looking up at him. Their precious faces, their soft chirps. You are special, he told them. My precious ones.
Dadda dadda dadda dadda, they babbled, and Aurin could have wept.
“Cern said we should come see how you all were getting on. He said the visitor to Tenebrae should be gone by now.”
“They’ve been and gone already? Is everyone okay? Do you know—”
“Everyone’s fine. He just said the visitor was the type better off not knowing about your younglings. Said nothing good would have come from him knowing. Guess you’ll be hiding them away for a long while yet.”
“Yes. We will.”
“We’re keeping watch for you,” Fyn said. “No threat will come through these mountains, rest assured.”
“We appreciate that,” Salem said. “It means a great deal. Please pass my thanks on to Cern on behalf of myself and Aurin.”
“I will. He’s gone away for a bit,” Fyn said. “As he does. You know, old gods business.”
“Hm,” Salem hummed.
And Aurin wanted to go out there. He wanted to see Fyn, to say thanks. To be beside Salem.
Pappa? Pappa pappa pappa, the babies chirped.
Aurin gave them a nod. Yes. We’ll go see Pappa.
Aurin crept out of the den and saw Salem’s human form in the water, so Aurin morphed as well, still holding their babies in the water. He shook his hair out, and he smiled when he saw Fyn on the shore. “Hi, Fyn.”
Fyn’s whole face lit up with a grin. “Hello!” Then he looked down at Aurin’s chest, where he was clutching their little ones, and Fyn’s face lit up even brighter. “Oh wow. They’re... oh, they’re the cutest.”
Two of the babies shot over to Salem and hid in his hands, chirping madly. The two that stayed with Aurin—the bigger firstborn and their little girl—were more curious. They peered up, trying to get closer, so Aurin lifted them out of the water, just for a moment.
It made Fyn laugh, his grin and eyes wide. “Amazing,” he said. “I shall deliver the good news that all is well. The next generation of godlings are perfect.”
“Godlings?” Aurin asked.
Fyn laughed. “Salem is a demigod, yes? Son of a god and a mortal.”
Aurin looked at Salem and chuckled. “Of course.”
Salem blushed, embarrassed, but his gaze tracked back to Fyn. “Thank you for coming by. Please pass on our regards to Cern when he returns.”
“Shall do.” Then he grinned at Aurin. “Unless you both want to come up for our next festival celebration. The honey mead is already brewing.”
“Oh no, thank you,” Aurin said quickly. “I’ve had enough of that evil stuff for several lifetimes. But thank you.”
He laughed. “You’re both welcome. Actually, you’re all welcome. When your little godlings are ready, I would love to see them again.”
He turned to leave, but Aurin said, “You’re welcome at the Cove at any time. No invitation necessary. We would love to see you again as well.”
He gave a nod and walked back into the forest, disappearing into the thickets with no more than a rustle of leaves and the sound of fading hooves.
Aurin looked at Salem then. “Our babies are protected,” he said. “Our little godlings. Isn’t that the cutest word ever?”
Salem sighed with a faint smile pulling at his lips, but then he remembered... “They said their first words! I heard them!”
“Yes. Dadda and Pappa,” Aurin said, so happy, it made him laugh. “They were worried for you.”
Salem melted into the water so he could hug the two godlings he was holding, then he brought Aurin in and hugged them all.
A chorus of chirps and squeaks along with overlapping echoes of Pappa and Dadda made Aurin’s hearts sing. Then there was one very tiny nom nom, and then another joined in, and Aurin laughed and laughed.
I think that’s a request for food, Salem said.
I think it is, Aurin agreed. And we are able to return home now. Is that what he said?
Yes.
Aurin hummed. Or maybe we could spend another day or two here, just us. You know once we go back, we’ll have everyone coming by all the time.
Salem chuckled. Absolutely. And as wonderful as that sounds, just us for another day or two sounds even better.