| |
Aurelia paced the beach, halting as the pair came within earshot. Her taloned hands found their way to her hips as they drew closer. She wore a ferocious scowl. Heat rolled off her in waves, each one burning slightly more than the last.
The guards at her back sweated in silence, sure to remain in position while maintaining a safe distance from Aurelia’s easy-bake frenzy.
Seru cringed. The young ruler clearly wasn’t happy. “You’d best let me go first,” he whispered to Thalasia.
Thalasia nodded, her shoulders tense as she laced her fingers together at the small of her back, whatever wall she’d let down clearly back in place. “Sure. I’m not really in the mood for her antics, anyway.”
“Her roar is worse than her bite,” Seru offered. “Most of the time.”
“Did you find anything out about our enemy or did you simply take your sweet time serenading one another?” Aurelia snapped, sensing a shift in both of them.
Seru chuckled despite his best efforts. “No, Majesty,” he responded. “I’m afraid our little scrimmage with the initial guiler’s companions left me ... off balance. Thalasia was generous enough to slow her pace to accommodate me.”
Thalasia’s body went completely still as her eyebrows furrowed at Seru’s statement. Her response only lasted for a second.
Aurelia squinted at him, her gaze boring into him with her startling violet eyes. She didn’t buy it. But she also didn’t know what to say to such an admission, especially in the presence of her army. Seru already had a target on his back. It escaped her why he’d openly invite further ridicule from their kinsmen.
She’d felt the spike in energy when his beast surfaced, sensed his distress the moment the magic seized him. She bit her lower lip, uncertain how to address the issue without drawing further attention to his weakened state.
Taking her silence as acceptance, Seru continued, bringing Aurelia up to speed with the vanished body and two elemental combatants Thalasia had swiftly dispatched.
Thalasia stood there with a flat gaze and added nothing to Seru’s story.
Aurelia followed Seru’s story intently. She barely spared Thalasia a glance until the very end. Her eyes darting between Seru and the siren, she spoke in hushed whispers, confirming she’d heard him correctly.
Canting her head, Thalasia leaned against the bridge’s banister and crossed one ankle over the other. “Feel free to ask me a question if necessary. Otherwise, we should get moving.”
Aurelia bared teeth as she paused to speak to Thalasia. “Don’t worry, siren, you’ll get your turn.”
Returning to the wall of gilded fighters, she instructed them to hold their post. If any guilers were sighted, they were to be killed without question as soon as they left Candescent Isle. With Seru by her side, she strode over to the siren’s perch. “You’ll talk as we walk, while I tend to Seru’s binding,” she told the woman through a show of teeth. “If your story doesn’t align with his, I’ll know one of you is lying.”
Thalasia barked out in laughter and started walking toward the forest. “You’re funny, dragon-girl. I thought you were a ruler, not an interrogator. But if you really need a reiteration of the facts, here it is: I sent the bad guys flying away. The end.”
“Sometimes being a good ruler means donning multiple hats,” Aurelia stated, her hands and the golden aura emitting from them finding Seru’s collar as he adjusted the fabric. “I don’t trust you, and as much as I adore my Regent, he has a tendency to manipulate the facts in whatever way best suits him in the moment. So is the nature of politics ... and war. Survival,” she amended with a frown. some distant memory playing behind her eyes. “I’ll never get the whole truth, no matter how honest the two parties. But I’ll hear your side in full nonetheless.”
“Please oblige her, Thalasia,” Seru requested, calm as could be. If he’d told Aurelia another tale, he didn’t betray it.
Thalasia stopped, crossed her arms, and rolled her eyes at Seru. “For fucks sake, fine. We walked over, saw that the body had been removed, and spotted the two guilers in the distance. He did his thing, I did mine, and when it all settled, we headed back. Satisfied?”
“So, you lost the body and created two more ... that you left behind without inspecting for clues?” Aurelia asked. “If you were just going to turn back at the first signs of danger, I could have gone myself and saved you both the trouble.”
“We erred on the side of caution, Regina. Without a definite number, approaching their shores seemed unwise,” Seru interjected. “Especially in light of my condition. Do not blame Thalasia for an unpredictable variable we introduced.”
Aurelia heaved a sigh, pressing in closer to better see the illuminated glyphs etched into Seru’s collar as she continued to manipulate their magic.
Bearing a frown, Thalasia groaned. “I didn’t lose the body. Although it was gone, I could still see some of its blood in the sand. As for the other two, we wouldn’t have been able to search for them. Their bodies were more likely in parts scattered between the shore and water. I wouldn’t have taken that risk with his life, especially with that thing around his neck.” She shot Seru an apologetic look, then flicked her eyes toward Candescent Isle. “For all we know, they can come across without using the bridge. So, if you’re done assaulting our decisions, then we best move on.”
Seru let out a startled yelp as the energy feeding into the metal misfired.
“Sorry, sorry ...” Aurelia apologized, choosing another channel for her magic to explore.
“Thalasia isn’t wrong.” He slipped a few talons between the warm metal and his throat.
Aurelia always did her best, but it was an unpredictable contraption, far more complex than even the most skilled locksmith could navigate. “The entire fleet is on standby should that occur,” she said, feeling for just the right connection within the collar. When her golden energy found the former Matriarch’s silver, the two momentarily warred for dominance before fusing and smoothing out. If she pushed too hard, the device either constricted and choked him, or it burned or zapped him with the reactive magical energy flowing inside it. “Better?”
“For now.” Seru grimaced as she pulled back. “Thank you.”
Thalasia’s fists balled up at Seru’s yelp. The tension in her body ebbed as the situation with the collar resolved.
“Don’t mention it.” Aurelia helped him adjust it to his comfort. “We should make our way toward the town. The one with the market, where most of the earthbound conduct their trade,” Aurelia said, hoping Seru’s near-perfect memory served him better. “That way we can question most of the species, then branch out from there. But first ...”
Aurelia slipped the straps of her dress over her shoulders. “We need to change. And you”—She reached into the knapsack Seru had brought her, producing a cloak and set of riding boots and tossing them to Thalasia— “need to cover those wings and talons.”
She caught the boots and cloak without issue. Raising an eyebrow at Aurelia, Thalasia smirked, tossed the boots back at her, and draped the cloak over her shoulders. “You don’t get to town much, do you? If what I’ve been taught about Prisma Isle stands, then my talons will be fine.”
Aurelia let the boots fall at her feet. “Fine. Suit yourself, chicken legs.” She stripped and changed in the open.
Seru reluctantly followed suit.
Most dragons, or any shifter really, didn’t mind exposing their bodies, even in human form. Most chose loose-fitting garments for a similar reason. Restricted movement didn’t sit well with them.
Aurelia found her eyes wandering over Seru’s roadmap of scars as they always did. Some were obvious lashings from his mother’s whip. The rest were battle scars from the Great War and the subsequent destruction of his brothers. He caught her stare, but as their eyes met, she didn’t look away. They were far too familiar with one another for that. Instead, she stuck out her tongue in a quick flash of fangs, drawing a laugh from her self-conscious friend as he shook his head.
Aurelia spotted Thalasia’s wide eyes locked on the scars on Seru’s back, and the bird-girl spun on the back of her heel as if embarrassed to be taking in what she must see as an intimate scene. Her shoulders dropped next, and she walked a short distance away as if to put some distance between her and them.
“What’s the matter, siren? Don’t see anything you like? Are the androgynous more your style?”
Seru tensed at Aurelia’s question. “Majesty, I don’t think those are appropriate questions.”
“Why not? Surely, she’s got a preference?” Aurelia frowned.
Clearing his throat, Seru tried again. “Most, if not all, sirens are female, Aurelia. Their options are limited when it comes to selecting a mate. It may be a delicate subject.”
The infomercial did little to deter her. “That’s ridiculous. Just because they can’t produce offspring doesn’t mean they can’t have sex.”
Seru looked to Thalasia apologetically.
“I wonder ... do sirens have feathers down there, too?”
“Did he?” Seru growled, a final attempt at ending the conversation.
Aurelia paused, searching her memories. “You know,” she said, bemused, “I don’t actually recall. If we ever cross paths, I’ll be sure to inform you. After I’ve killed him.”
Her body rigid, Thalasia said nothing as she balled up her fists. Clenching her jaw, she removed the cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. She unzipped the back of her tank top and dropped it, revealing multiple scars on her back, including two jagged white slashes, one on each shoulder blade close to her wings. She didn’t hide the swell of her breasts but remained there for a moment so they could clearly see the breadth of what she’d endured. Without bothering to cover herself back up, she took off into the air and flew toward the forest.
Seru gave Aurelia the venomous look she’d earned.
“They weren’t any worse than yours,” she offered, shrugging on the last of her new clothes.
“You have no idea what she’s survived, Aurelia. You had no right to assume and assault her that way.”
Aurelia rolled her eyes in response. “Why are you both being so dramatic?”
Shaking his head because he was disgusted with her response and unwillingness to comprehend what her smarting off had cost Thalasia, Seru dared to test the new interworking of his collar and transformed into, not a dragon, but a small cluster of storm clouds.
“Thalasia ...” Seru called.
Tugging her shirt back in place on the perch she’d found, Thalasia closed her eyes and sighed. Why did he have to follow her? She hadn’t meant to share her wounds that way ... better yet, not at all. Her walls had been in place for years. It was safer, not just for her, but also for those around her.
In a short time, she’d discovered in him, kin. Someone who understood the horrors she’d endured, the loneliness that resulted, and the cage she was trapped in.
Opening her eyes, she stared out across the forest. “Please, go away.”
Following the sound of her voice, Seru stopped just beneath the towering tree she’d selected as her hiding place. “I won’t do you the injustice of apologizing for her. You deserve better. What she said was cruel. She doesn’t understand ...” he trailed off. “I don’t mean that as an excuse. The Regina has been confined to the Clouds all her life. There exists kindness in her heart, but it’s something she’s been taught rigorously to bury.”
He paused. “If you wish to be alone, I’m afraid I can’t award you that. It’s too dangerous. But if you will permit silence, it’s my turn to oblige.”
Oh, she gathered how little dragon-girl understood. Not just about sirens in general, but about life. No, it wasn’t an excuse, and of course, she had witnessed the young dragon to be kind. To him. But that wasn’t the problem, was it? She could handle the girl’s snarky attitude. Even work with it, if it came down to it. The problem was it wouldn’t be fair to blame him. It wasn’t his fault either. It was hers. It was her history that closed her off, and her walls that had been cracked. Undoing her braid, Thalasia ran her fingers through her sapphire blue hair and proceeded to re-braid her locks. “I’m safer alone.”
“No one’s safe alone, Thalasia,” Seru said, settling beneath the tree. “Not even someone as powerful as you.”
Thalasia paused mid-braid. She was going to have to tell him. Make him see the truth. She didn’t want compassion or empathy. She just wanted to finish her job, to complete the tasks Demeter had laid before her eyes. Slipping the band around her wrist, Thalasia hopped from the branch and drifted to the ground. “You don’t get it. I didn’t pass out. I had a vision. That is what got me these scars. A shapeshifter found out about me and decided I’d be useful to her. When I refused, she beat me until that stopped working, then she went for my wings. I’m alive because of one of her guards. He sacrificed his life for mine. I won’t take that risk. I will not lose someone else because of my abilities.”
Seru craned his neck to gaze into her eyes as he spoke. “By that logic, you risking your life for mine earlier was a mistake.”
He was wrong. So wrong. In that moment, she’d made a decision, and it was one she intended to see through. Thalasia shook her head, her half-braid falling loose. “It was what needed to happen. I will see the mission I was given here through, and I will keep my promise to you. When that’s done, so am I. I have nothing to tether me to this world. No mate, no children ... and I see neither in my future. I will do what needs to be done.”
Seru cocked his head in question. “Your extra sight may show you a great many things, but it doesn’t show you all. Don’t give up on this life, or yourself, that easily.”
He stood, gently taking her hands in his. “I, for one, don’t intend to. Nor do I intend to allow you to condemn yourself to a lifetime of heartache and misery. I believe that guard friend of yours would agree, that it would be a terrible waste, especially for one so young, so lovely, and with such a generous heart.”
It wasn’t giving up. It was making a choice. Why couldn’t he see that? Because he was too close. Just like her parents. Just like Klaus. Removing her hands from his, Thalasia took a step back. “You fear what it’ll be like with your collar off. I fear what would happen if I let my walls completely down. I won’t see you a prisoner, but I won’t remain one either.”
“That’s twice today I’ve attempted to comfort you ... and it’s twice I’ve failed,” he admitted, his voice low.
She grimaced. It caused her heart physical pain to see him so dejected, especially when he wasn’t to blame. Thalasia swallowed and dropped her gaze to her hands. Before her mind could catch up to her body’s decision, she closed the distance between the two of them and hugged him. “Please don’t think this is your failure. It belongs to me.”
Seru startled. After a moment, he returned her embrace, careful of her wings and of his own strength. Her blue hair tickled his nose as he dipped his chin over the curve of her neck. “Thank you, Thalasia.”
Of their own accord, her wings came around them like a cocoon. Her breath caught in the back of her throat. What was her body doing? Nothing like this had ever happened before. Although, maybe it was being so close to a male. No, she’d been around men. It didn’t make sense. But she didn’t dare examine the desire too closely, otherwise it might be her undoing. “No thanks necessary, Seru.”
Someone cleared their throat from beneath a nearby tree. “You both realize that your cross-species kids would be massive scaly feathery disasters, right? If you’re done playing out your tragic soap opera, can we start hopping and skipping that way?” Dragon-girl pointed in the proper direction. “Your fancy map says the central market city is that way. If you’re lucky, they might even have a chapel,” she added, striding off.
Thalasia’s wings retracted and she stepped out of Seru’s hold. Her eyes narrowed at dragon-girl. Up to this point, she’d met her snark head on. Perhaps, it was time she took another approach altogether. Exhaling a deep breath, Thalasia crossed her arms.
“No.” She held up a hand to stop Seru from interjecting. “I get it dragon-girl. You and I obviously don’t like each other. Nor do we trust one another. You know nothing about my species and my knowledge of yours is little. We don’t know a thing about the other or what we’ve been through in our lives. As far as I’m concerned, that doesn’t need to change, but we do need to respect one another in order to work together. So, how about you and I start over?”
Uncrossing her arms, Thalasia held out her hand for the other woman. The branch had been extended; it was up to dragon-girl to take it.
Dragon-girl turned back just enough to cock an eyebrow at Thalasia and her outstretched palm before turning to Seru.
He stood with his arms crossed almost as if he were hugging himself in her absence, coveting the warmth. His wounded but firm eyes and stubborn stance said he wasn’t moving and expected an answer as much as she did.
“Does it really mean that much to you?” dragon-girl asked.
Seru’s lip recoiled, exposing his fang. “Not if you don’t mean it.”
The young dragon-shifter threw her hands up, exasperated. “Why do I have to mean it? If you were in my shoes, you wouldn’t.”
He shook his head, his grip tightening on his arms. “If we were up there”—He pointed overhead, beyond the canopies, indicating the Clouds— “you’re exactly right. I’d do whatever was necessary to make peace, to survive, as I have under both your rule and Hers. But we aren’t up there. I’m not playing a role for the Court, where the wrong answer, the wrong turn of phrase earns me a gilded spear to the gut or a thousand years of agony with this thing wrapped around my throat!”
“You gave me hope when you said you wanted to change the way the Clouds were run, make it so each dragon under your care had a voice.” He took a moment to steady his rising tone. “If those words were hollow, and this”—He swept a hand over her person— “these cruel words and thoughtless, self-serving demands are who you really are? You’re no better than Her. You are Her. Worse.”
Seru turned away, unable to hold the dragon-shifter’s gaze.
Thalasia kept her hand out, although she had nearly lowered it several times. At this rate, dragon-girl might never agree. Seeing Seru seethe with anger, when only moments ago the world had been calm, was like a stab to the wing. Thalasia reached out and squeezed his arm. If he had been anyone else, she might’ve used her abilities to soothe him, but she wouldn’t do that. She just hoped the small touch would be enough.
Flicking her eyes back to the young Matriarch, Thalasia sighed. “I know your heart isn’t as black as you make it out to be. I’ve seen it, in the way you care for him. So, if you won’t do it for yourself or the mission, then do it for him.” With her one hand still outstretched, she nodded to Seru.
“Fine.” the dragon-girl announced, voice thick with punished tears. Reluctantly extending a hand, she took hold of Thalasia’s. One firm handshake and she withdrew. “But at the end of this, it seems you have a choice to make as well.” She turned and walked in the direction of the town, sure to keep her back to them both as she led the way.
Thalasia groaned. It was better than nothing. It might’ve been nice to know dragon-girl’s name, but she’d accept what little had been given. This wasn’t the only mission on her plate. She turned to Seru. “I need to go back for the cloak. I’ll return in a moment.”
“Leave it”—He shifted out of his and draped it over her shoulders with a heavy sigh. “Between the effort with Aurelia and this”—He thumbed his collar— “we’ve wasted far too much time already.”
Valid point. Not that she’d helped in the matter.
He sounded exhausted. With a strained smile, he offered his hand to Thalasia. “Call it childish, but after all that, I’m feeling a little petty.”
Raising an eyebrow at his hand, a small smile curled on her lips. It probably wasn’t the wisest idea, but she couldn’t stop herself. Thalasia placed her hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze. “May I do something to ease your muscles as we walk?”
“I appreciate it,” Seru said, “but I don’t want to accidentally hurt you—when my emotions aren’t subdued, the electricity generated isn’t friendly—no matter how well intended. I’ll be alright, I just need to secure a room once we get to town. You’re more than welcome to accompany me should you find yourself needing rest.”
“I don’t think you could ever hurt me, but I trust your judgment.” Though, perhaps it was for the best. She didn’t want to remember the happier time, a time when she had hope for her future, especially given her decision. The past needed to remain buried where it belonged.
She had to think of what was left of her future. “Yes, I would like to join you.”
