Chapter 18
The bottom of the cavern is as I expected—a small beach of crystalline white sand surrounded by the soaring cavern walls. But that’s not what holds my attention. The water—or rather, what’s inside it—does.
There, coiled around one of the small boulders that jut from the water’s depths, like a serpent clutching an egg, is Queen Ayo. But the Queen Ayo I know is a reptile of mind-bogglingly gargantuan proportions, a creature who would seem practically out of myth if she weren’t so very, very real.
The person sitting in front of me, however, is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen: a face to rival that of Melanis in her prime and a figure almost as voluptuous as the statues you find in old temple ruins. In fact, almost every portion of the ebiki queen is perfection to look upon, except for that tail, which lazily strokes the water, the gleaming spikes on the back of it a visible warning despite all her beauty. I am dangerous,that tail says. Do not approach. It’s a message shared by the rest of Queen Ayo’s features, which seem more in keeping with her reptilian nature. Her skin is a shimmering, gleaming gold-edged blue, just like the scales she had in her ebiki form, and the strands of her hair are like gathered tentacles, which shift and slither softly around her as she turns to face me.
Her eyes, though, are still the same gentle black, that gray pupil a crescent moon in their center.
Britta edges closer to me, awed. “Is that who I think it—”
“Deka…” The cavern’s stone walls echo Queen Ayo’s voice, which somehow seems just as powerful now as it did in her ebiki form.
I walk closer to the shore, kneel in front of her. “Queen Ayo,” I acknowledge respectfully. “You are a shape-shifter?”
I had considered it before but had never given it any real thought. I suppose I was so awestruck by her size, I could not imagine she could be anything else, even though Ixa’s primary characteristic has always been his shape-shifting.
“We…all are.” The queen gestures an elegantly clawed hand, and now I see the other ebiki swimming silently in the water, their forms just as humanlike as their monarch’s. Except, strangely, they’re all male—like Ixa, who I never thought could achieve a humanlike form.
And yet, all the rest of his species seem very at home in one. Even the males. But if they can, perhaps he can as well.
I turn to my blue companion, who is now happily paddling in the water, his fur having easily given way to scales and fins.
“Will Ixa—”
“What?” When Queen Ayo suddenly appears in front of me, water dripping from her scaled body, my heart jolts. She moved so fast, it was less than a moment between my turning my gaze from Ixa and her arrival by my side.
I hurriedly kneel, putting all the respect I can into the gesture. The gods I will not kneel to, but Queen Ayo…she’s a different matter altogether.
She glances at me curiously, head tilting to one side. “Will Ixa…?” she prompts.
“Change into a form like this?” I ask, clearing my throat to calm myself. “Like you are right now?”
Her black gaze flicks to Ixa, and she gives her offspring a considering stare. “One…day,” she says in that stilted way, her eyes sliding back to me.
Her voice is filled with strange pauses, almost as if she has to seek out the words before speaking them. I suppose when you’re used to communicating mentally, it takes time to translate your thoughts into words spoken aloud.
“Usually…it takes us…hundreds of years to achieve a skin that can…communicate with…ground-walkers. But our progeny…Ixa…progresses swiftly. He is…only an infant, and yet see how he…maneuvers.”
I turn to find Ixa playfully snapping at the other ebiki, who gamely flee from him in what appears to be a game of chase.
“You…must stand.” When I turn back to Queen Ayo, she is offering me a hand, a disconcerted look in those gentle eyes. “It is not…proper for a…deity…to kneel before their…godsworn.”
Nodding, I take her hand, which I’m surprised to find is warm and smooth, and rise. Even then, I have to look up at her. I feel like a small child compared to her towering height, and I’m doubtlessly not the only one. Britta, who’s standing just next to me, comes nowhere close to being shoulder to shoulder with the monarch.
“Why did you choose me to be your god?” I ask, curious.
The gods do not choose their godsworn; their godsworn choose them—that’s one of the most important things I learned during my time in the Hall of the Gods and on the walk back afterward. Myter, I am told, pestered Bala, who was then a solitary god, for almost an entire lifetime until the deity of the pathways relented.
Queen Ayo’s shoulders roll into an elegant shrug. “Why do the…waves choose the…moon, why does…the grass choose…the sun? You were…there, we felt you, we felt your…call, and so we…answered.” Her black eyes peer into mine, that crescent gray pulling me into their center. “We ebiki are…fierce creatures…solitary warriors, the…terror of all oceans. For us…might is what…determines…leadership. The…strongest…male…transforms…becomes…queen. When you…called us, when you…explained to us your task, we agreed. We bound…ourselves to you. We sent you our…most precious…progeny, the first…offspring born to us in a millennium. All this…we have done for you.”
“But why? And what task did I ask of you?” My head is swirling with questions now.
“War.” The queen’s mouth spreads into a terrifying grin, teeth the size of daggers seeming to split that beautiful, lush mouth. “You called us to…devour, to destroy, to wreak…havoc on the Oteran gods. As…queen…as the…mightiest…I could…not refuse…such honor…The…time will soon come…our goddess.” I watch, shocked and slightly horrified, as the monstrous and beautiful queen of the ebiki sinks to her knees, that terrifying light shining in her eyes.
“Call upon…us, and we will come. And we…will destroy all your…enemies and any that…stand in your way. When the…barrier falls and the world…begins to collapse, call…on us, and we will…come to your side.”
I’m so unnerved now, all I can manage is a small, tense nod. “My thanks,” I say hoarsely.
“A deity does…not need to thank their godsworn,” the queen replies, as if she did not offer an entire celestial genocide on my behalf. “Not for…fulfilling our purpose, and certainly not for this.”
She gestures and a group of ebiki suddenly emerge from the water, their humanlike male bodies graceful even as their tails carve undulating tracks in the sand. They’re carrying something behind them, what looks to be a chest carved out of mother-of-pearl.
Britta squints at it, intrigued. “Wha’s that?”
“A gift for…our…honored deity,” Queen Ayo replies, gesturing to the nearest ebiki, large with bright silver edging the blue of his scales.
He bows solemnly to her before leaning down to open the chest, whose interior is so bright, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. The moment they do, my eyebrows rise. There’s a piece of clothing inside. It looks somewhat similar to the dress the godsworn gave me, with its scale-like blue cloth that shimmers with gold, except there’s much less fabric, and the garment ends in pantaloons instead of a skirt. What’s more, it seems like it’s meant to mold to the body like a second skin.
“It’s armor…made from our…flesh,” Queen Ayo explains when I turn to her, puzzled.
My eyes widen. “Wait, you mean you—”
“Our last…molt,” the queen continues, allowing me to breathe.
For a moment there, I thought the armor might be made of dried ebiki flesh, but thankfully, no, it’s just scales. The thinnest flakes of ebiki scales, given how thick and tough the ones I’ve seen on them are.
“It contains our…essence,” Queen Ayo continues. “Wear it always and it will keep your body…whole, prevent you from falling into…disrepair. Protect you from harm.”
I frown. “Do you mean these scales will keep the wounds from reappearing?”
She shakes her head. “Only…as long as…you do not use…too much…power. As long as…you…wear…it, this…will keep…your body from…disintegrating…until you reconnect…with your kelai. It contains…our prayers…and our…power.”
She gestures, and the ebiki obligingly lifts the garment up, wraps it around his arm, then points it away from himself. He nods at her. With a speed so fast, I nearly don’t catch it, Queen Ayo moves, slicing at the material with the dagger-sharp tip of her barbed tail. The ground splits where her tail lands, but the armor on the ebiki’s hand doesn’t move. Doesn’t even budge.
I gasp. “So that is—”
“The most…durable…armor known to all…Kamabai. Not even the blood of the…Oteran gods can cut through it.” Retrieving it with her sharply clawed hand, she extends it toward me, head bowed. “This…we offer to you, our…deity. Our flesh to…protect you on your journey. Such that you will…ascend when and only when…you are prepared.”
I slowly take the armor, marveling at the almost buttery softness of it. For some reason, I expected it to be hard—immovable, even. “My tha—” I stop myself before the words come, remembering the queen’s earlier correction about thanks. Instead, I just nod at her. “It is much appreciated,” I finish.
She inclines her head, turning back to the water. “We are…glad.”
She pauses to pick up Ixa, who has now emerged from the water and is glancing up with curious eyes. Holding him to her cheek, she carefully nuzzles him, that strange purring sound I heard earlier now emanating from them both. It’s as if they’re communicating, saying a last goodbye. Once she’s done, she puts him down again and slithers into the water, where all the male ebiki are waiting. Seeing her there, floating among them, I finally understand her words: the ebiki are one of those groups of creatures that are all born male. The strongest turns female and becomes queen. There are no female ebiki other than Queen Ayo, just as there are no baby ebiki other than Ixa. I glance at him, finally comprehending, for the first time, how truly precious he is.
I’ve always known he meant the world to me, but now I understand he means much more than that to the world itself: The first ebiki born in a millennium. The last of a race of creatures powerful enough to rival the gods.
And he is my companion.
Queen Ayo smiles dotingly at him, those alarming teeth gleaming. Then she turns to me. “Take care of our…offspring, Angoro Deka,” she instructs. “He is the…last we will ever have before we…continue on to the deep waters and another queen…ascends.”
I kneel to gather up Ixa, who’s transformed to his usual adolescent form, then nod at the queen. “I will,” I say. “Ixa is more to me than a companion. He is my dearest friend.”
The queen blinks, what appears to be a glassy second eyelid swiftly closing across her eye. “For…this…we are…glad,” she replies. Then, just like that, she’s gone.
And now Britta is looking at me, tears in her eyes. Relief so strong, she’s nearly shaking with it.
“What?” I ask, confused. “Is something the matter?”
Britta points at the armor, which doesn’t look like armor. “Oh, Deka,” she gasps excitedly. “It’s a cure. The queen gave ye a cure! Just seconds ago, ye were worryin’ about it, an’ now this.”
I shake my head as I glance down at it. “It’s not a cure, precisely,” I begin carefully. “But it is a reprieve. I can keep my body safe for now—”
“An’ even more brilliantly, ye have an army for when ye need it,” she adds.
And given everything the Maiwurian gods told you, you most likely will.Britta doesn’t have to say this part out loud for me to know it’s true.
The mere thought of it exhausts me, so I sigh as I add, “All I need now is to find my kelai. And fast. Very fast.” If there are as many shadow vales as the Maiwurian gods say—which, of course, there are—the Gilded Ones and the Idugu are getting more powerful by the minute.
Britta grins. “So wha’ are we waiting for, then? Lead the way!”