Chapter 13
The polished white marble interior relinquished us into the raw mouth of a cave.
Before it, a statue of Nymphaea stood. Below her were waves rising around her coiled tail, and soaring above her with unfurling feathered wings was Aeretha, the Guardian of sky.
The pair was locked in a reaching, desperate lover’s embrace, immaculately carved from one breathtaking piece of marble.
It was a masterpiece against the natural chaos and jagged teeth of the cave opening. The two Guardians clung to one another in imagery I’d never seen before.
“They don’t speak of that in terra prayers, do they?” Morvyn remarked as we approached the stunning statue and the dark-amber door behind it.
“Speak of what?” I asked.
“The scandalous love affair of Nymphaea and Aeretha. Very sexy and very dramatic. Sirens grow up on the heart-wrenching tale of the two most powerful Guardians in the world who found love during their joint effort to flee the cruel world of Terragos,” Morvyn answered.
We padded nearer to the entrance, the vibration of song in the distance charging the air. The sound had put my senses on edge since the ship crash. I tried to steady my nerves.
Morvyn pointed to Aeretha. “One Guardian created sky,” he said, then pointed to Nymphaea, “and the other created the sea, all to escape Terragos. In his anger, he cursed them to never leave their domains, giving one wings and the other a fish’s tail.”
As we neared, I could better see the immaculate detail: the intricacy of the waves spraying in a rush, the anguish carved into the lovers’ eyes.
Morvyn continued, “Terragos was jealous of their love, so he forced an ocean and a sky to permanently separate the two paramours.”
“I’ve never heard that part before,” I said.
My list of unknowns was growing.
“Of course you haven’t; terras just recite all the boring holy prayers,” Morvyn drawled.
Were there other stories of the Guardians I did not know? More things in this world that were a mystery to me?
We passed the stunning statue and entered the mouth of the cave.
“I did not know you were a theologian,” Raylik said to Morvyn, hard-faced as he opened the large amber glass door, releasing the strange music held behind it.
“Don’t ask me about any of the prayers on sacrifice or restraint; I never listened to those bits,” Morvyn said.
“That’s obvious,” Raylik said as he swung his large, muscled arm and gestured for me to enter.
I forged ahead. The sound hit me fully, a bewildering vibrant noise that rebounded off the rocky cave walls. My ears strained at the soundscape; it was absolutely otherworldly, trilling and quivering with the thrum of some strange percussion that vibrated through me.
Sirens of all shapes and colorings swayed to the melody together under a cold, glowing light seeping from the plants that clung to the rocks in clusters above, throbbing to the swell of music.
The light illuminated the colors of the sirens’ skin beautifully as they rolled their bodies and reached for one another in sweeping movements.
Morvyn sauntered ahead, dancing to the beat as he worked his long, lean body through the sea of flesh.
“Stay close,” Raylik ordered.
I did not argue. The sight was the strangest I’d seen yet, besides the sirens themselves. But even though a part of me feared the music and the sirens’ power, another part was mesmerized. They were absolutely divine. Like holy prayers coming to life.
Raylik and I worked through the bodies, following Morvyn, whose brilliant smile said he was absolutely reveling in the scene.
The music was completely overtaking my senses.
I tried to capture it, the sound, the harmonies, the tempo, but it was so wild and incredible. Impossible to comprehend even with my knowledge of music.
Webbed hands glided across my body as if I belonged to the crowd, to the music that begged me to roll my hips and sway as the sirens did. To melt into their barely clothed and glorious bodies that glistened, their scales twinkling, like stars beneath the sea.
We broke free of the pulsating assemblage and passed a large piece of green sea glass jutting out into the space. Sirens clustered around the structure, and behind it a pink siren handed out chalices that sloshed with drink as she placed them into empty hands.
Morvyn led us to a tall table with stools, and we all took a seat.
“They sound marvelous this evening,” he said over the music.
I’d heard of taverns; dark, dingy places where men drank from tankards, but this was nothing like that. This was brilliant.
A siren approached our table, her dark-green skin hardly covered by fabric that tied on each side of her expansive hips with a strip across her ample chest. Her hair was like a green river rippling down her back.
“Why hello, Bryn,” Morvyn said with a wink.
“Good evening,” she said, placing two chalices before Morvyn and Raylik.
“And for you, love?” she asked me.
“Water and food. Cooked,” Raylik answered.
“I believe she asked me,” I said sharply.
Morvyn raised his pale brows. “I believe she did.”
Raylik kept his lips in a tight line.
“What are you two having?” I asked.
Morvyn puffed a laugh that made me regret the question.
Nixie appeared from the densely packed crowd. “Oh Elowyn, you’re here. What a surprise.” Her elevated voice chimed over the thrumming beat as she skimmed a gentle hand over Raylik’s broad, bare shoulders in passing.
“She insisted on coming,” Raylik answered.
Nixie sat between Raylik and Morvyn and looked at him, a thought seeming to pass between their minds.
“I’ll take a cup of firewater, Bryn, please,” Nixie said to the green siren.
“I’ll have the same,” I said.
“I don’t know if that’s the best id—” Nixie started.
“Let the girl have some fun!” Morvyn interjected.
“I’m not a girl,” I snapped.
“You’re right! You are no girl, but a woman, who can have a bit of firewater with her new friends.” He raised his glass to me and smiled.
“So, a cup of firewater and—” the server asked.
“And some bread, please,” I added for good measure.
“And three shots of Dragon’s Breath, darling,” Morvyn said.
“No,” Raylik ground out.
“One Dragon’s Breath … for now,” Bryn said with a knowing smile, like she had seen this play out before.
“Were you able to see some of Naiadon?” Nixie asked over the music.
“Yes, I saw the library and the treasury,” I answered.
“Oh, the treasury is such fun! Rayly and I go down there to try on the jewelry.” Her pink eyes grew wide as she spoke.
I looked at the large, lumbering figure to her right and tried to imagine him frolicking through the archives with little Nixie at his side.
He looked me straight in the eyes as he took a deep drink, without an ounce of shame.
“Raylik is more fun than he lets on,” she continued. “Don’t let all the silence and brooding fool you.”
The server set two drinks before us, then disappeared.
“Precisely why he should have a shot of Dragon’s Breath with me! Come on, just one itsy-bitsy shot. Please, please, please,” Morvyn whinged.
Raylik waved a hand at him to shoo him off.
I took a drink of the firewater. It was bitter and spiced with the familiar burn of alcohol. I’d restrain myself from drinking too much to keep my wits about me, but maybe it would help calm the last remaining nerves clawing at the nape of my neck.
“Oh, one won’t hurt,” Nixie said with a sly smile, “and it’ll get him to stop grumbling.” She eyed Raylik over the rim of the cup, his shoulders settling under her gaze as he nodded a yes.
“Four Dragon’s Breaths!” she shouted, her voice like a bell’s toll cutting through the music in the cave. The sound made it to the siren tending the station at the sea glass structure, who nodded a yes.
“Make that six!” Hylos bellowed, his hand on Calypstra’s waist as he guided her through the dancing crowd.
Did he ever stop touching her?
Morvyn drummed his hands on the table, rattling our chalices. “Now we’re talking!”
Hylos clapped a heavy palm on Raylik’s shoulder.
“We drink to celebrate the good news,” Hylos said as he and Calypstra took a seat at the table.
Morvyn sketched a bow. “As your humble servant, I must obey my king regent’s command,” Morvyn said.
Nixie rolled her eyes.
Regent. I noted the word and Morvyn’s comments from earlier. Hylos believed his father was still alive. Captured by humans. Somewhere in my country, held captive by my king and father.
“You haven’t even heard the news yet,” Hylos laughed, a warm, broad smile radiating across his young face.
“I don’t have to, my liege. For you, I will party at your mere command,” Morvyn added.
“You’d drink yourself stupid at the command of a crustacean,” Raylik responded.
“I resent that, Rayly.” Morvyn said his friend’s name in a high-pitched tone, mocking Nixie.
Nixie whirled her finned hand through the air, thumping him hard in the chest, making him grunt.
“Do not mock me, Morvyn, or I’ll kick your scrawny, pallid ass.”
I felt like a trespasser, intruding on an intimate moment. Like someone peering in on a family through an open window. They were so comfortable, so at ease. Words flowed effortlessly between them, as if they knew each other’s thoughts like the beat of their own hearts.
A family. Friends. Both things I had never had before. Not truly.
“Tell them already,” Calypstra hissed, drinking from the chalice that appeared before her from the knowing hand of the dutiful Bryn.
Calypstra didn’t seem to fit. It was like she was a piece shoved into their lives. Even her relationship with Hylos seemed strange. She was older by some years. Closer in age to me than him. And I noticed the uneasy eyes from the others trained on her.
“The Great Circles have arrived at Naiadon,” Hylos said, smiling at his friends. “Well, all besides Circle Twynox. But that was to be expected. Draveen’s likely busy murdering some relative of his or committing some other heinous atrocity,” he said casually.