Chapter Three #2
For a moment, I saw not the pirate witch, but a mother who had watched her son sail into a storm.
Still, I couldn’t let her derail the questions. “You knew there were others like him,” I said quietly. “Didn’t you? Others like us. Out here.”
Nerissa’s lips pressed tight. Her eyes flicked toward Meruse too quickly. My gaze sharpened between them. Kieran and Ronan tensed, picking up on it as well. Meruse was trying far too hard to not look at Nerissa.
Wren caught it too: the slight shift of scent in the air.
“What?” she asked, never one to beat around the bush. “What aren’t you telling us? Do you two know each other?”
Meruse’s lips thinned, a nervous habit she couldn’t hide even in her more human form. Astrid’s brow furrowed, clearly confused.
“Meruse,” I said sharply.
She twirled a piece of flaming red hair around her finger.
“Answer me,” Wren demanded. “You know each other!”
Nerissa smiled faintly. “She should know me. We’ve done trade before.”
“Trade?” I repeated, my voice rising an octave.
“In blood and secrets,” Nerissa explained.
That wasn’t an explanation at all.
“You knew about more drakens!” I accused, my voice rising.
Gasp and shocked cries came from the other drakens.
Kieran’s brow furrowed. “How long have you known about the other drakens?”
Meruse sighed, shoulders sinking under the weight of years. “Since before the war ended.”
I froze, my blood stopping cold in my body. “You what?”
Meruse lifted her chin. “It wasn’t up to me. I vowed to protect the drakens, my friends. You are not my only friends. It was their wish to remain hidden and safe. Just as I respected your decision to remain hidden and safe.”
My mouth opened but nothing came out.
“You agreed to hide an entire branch of drakens?” Wren’s voice rose, sharp as broken glass. “You let us think we were the last!”
“Wren,” I said softly, reaching for her arm, but she shook me off.
“They let our people suffer, rebuild from ash, thinking we were alone. And for what? To keep balance?” Her voice cracked. “To play gods over who deserves to live?”
Nerissa crossed her arms. “Don’t yell at her, Queen. She only did what she was told.”
“By whom?” I asked.
“By me,” Nerissa said simply. “And the leader of the bloodwitches, Alkdama. Titles change. Legacies don’t.”
I looked between the two of them: the seawitch and the blood witch standing before the ashes and clearing smoke of the pyre. For the first time in years, I felt small.
Wren’s voice softened, trembling at the edge of fury. “So all this time, we’ve been guarding ashes while the world is still burning beyond the horizon.”
Nerissa crossed her arms over her chest. “What is done, is done. We are here now on this lost island of drakens.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, unconsciously mimicking her. “We are not lost. Your island is lost.”
Wren sighed loudly.
“Either way,” Nerissa began again, suddenly serious, “I would like to lay him to rest here. I do not think he’d want to be buried on the island he did everything to get away from.”
The beach went quiet, the wind whispering through the tall grass the only sound. The smell of salt and smoke clung to us all.
“He will have a funeral with all the respect of a king,” I said, bowing my head to her.
Nerissa’s chin wobbled.
“C-can I do it?” she asked softly.
I lifted my hand to my throat, nicking the delicate bloodmagick there once again. Heat and fire welled in my chest, the bloodmagick helping me reach my dragon ancestry to send Anar off properly. I breathed fire onto the torch in my hand, and handed it to Nerissa.
Silent tears streaming down her cheeks, she walked to the pyre and set fire to it. We stood back and the drakens along the shore began singing.
“Ah, you do have voicemagicks. I suspected,” Nerissa sniffed, watching his body burn.
When the last note hung in the air, dissonant, the body was naught more than ash. Everyone slowly dispersed, going back to their homes and lives.
“Come with us,” I said to Nerissa.
She cast a longing look back at the pyre, but nodded.
The way up the beach and into the jungle toward our treehouse was slow, but Wren insisted that walking was better for her. She grabbed my arm, using me for support. Kieran led the way with Ronan behind us. Nerissa trailed all of us, her gaze far away.
“Are we going to go visit her island and see these drakens? Or maybe invite them here?” Wren asked, voice laced with excitement.
I shot her a look.
“I’m serious!” Her chin made that stubborn tilt I knew so well. “If there are other drakens alive on her island, we owe them more than suspicion. We owe them kinship and friendship. And playdates. How adorable would that be?”
Kieran groaned under his breath. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
“Yes,” Wren said. “Someone has to meet these others, see what kind of lives they’ve built, and at least offer friendship. And trade. That’s something kingdoms do with each other, right?”
She looked at me, unsure.
“Wren,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “We just learned an entire enclave of our kind exists beyond the sea. We know nothing about them, and even less about her. We are about to become parents.”
“Who better than someone who has already raised three drakens?” she shot back.
Nerissa snorted from behind us.
“Your other two children. What are their names?” Wren asked Nerissa, stopping on the path and batting a large leaf away from her face. The jungle was still thick in many places; we’d have to keep working on carving pathways.
“Vanca and Nava,” Nerissa responded wistfully, a faraway look in her eyes.
Females. The wind shifted along with the tide. I could practically feel the unmated males salivating behind me, tensing with the news.
We made it to the bottom of the treehouse, Wren exhaling heavily and sitting down for a break.
“I can carry you–” I began, but she just glared at me.
Kieran grinned as he and Ronan raced each other straight up the tree’s trunk and bypassed the steps completely.
Speaking of children.
Nerissa’s head lifted at that. “The wards near my island are weakening; we do not have enough drakens and witches to anchor them, I think. The storms are changing. That’s how Anar slipped through. He shouldn’t have been able to. I noticed your wards look similar.”
I tensed. “There is nothing wrong with our wards.”
Nerissa’s eyes narrowed.
“Go ahead up. Kieran and Ronan will meet you. I need a longer rest,” Wren said to her, her smile brittle.
Nerissa ascended the stairs without arguing.
“If anyone knows about blood wards, it would be a bloodwitch,” Wren challenged.
“She didn’t grow up as one. And nobody knows wards better than drakens,” I argued back, but it felt weak.
Wren’s hand came to rest on her belly, protective and sure. “We can’t hide forever. Peace doesn’t last if it’s built on isolation.”
She lifted her arms toward me, a silent plea to be carried, a peace offering.
I gathered her in my arms and carefully went up the steps, relishing the feel of her body against mine.
Inside the treehouse, Nerissa was already deep in a tactical discussion with Kieran and Ronan. I lowered Wren into a bed of cushions and she smiled gratefully, stretching out and snuggling into the blankets.
“The sea gave him back untouched,” Kieran was saying. “No rot. Not even the current could claim him. Whatever took him was clean. Precise.”
“Magick?” I asked.
Nerissa’s lips thinned. “Bloodmagick, perhaps, but not ours.”
A chill rippled through the treehouse, dispelling the heat of the jungle long enough to raise the fine scales at the base of my neck.
“Should we have examined him further?” I asked, stomach flipping.
Always the wrong choice. You will never get it right.
I shook my head, trying to push the fearful thoughts away.
Nerissa waved me away. “I know my son. I saw enough.”
“No rot, as Kieran said,” Ronan began quietly. “Clean. No obvious stab wounds.”