Fish Out of Water Page 9

  I felt a sudden cold hand clutch at my belly, and knew it was about to happen again.

  Mrs Tripe’s words echoed through the walls of my still-aching brain, even as they started to dissolve and turn to something else. And there it was again. The same thing. From the bathmat. The dark shape, the cries. But this time my Mom’s voice was crying too, and Mom was swimming, fast, carrying something in her arms, but I couldn’t see what it was.

  And then it was gone, and my mind was black and aching again. And Mrs Tripe had her arms around me, holding me while I shook and tears poured down my cheeks. She was talking but it took a few moments for her words to make their way through to my overheated brain.

  “Shush, darling, shush. It will pass. Don’t fight it.”

  And she waited with me while I made the slow and scary journey back from the abyss.

  “You’re both different.” She was holding my face now, looking into me. “You, your ma Lunia. But I know you’ll be okay. It doesn’t matter what you are, you’re ours.”

  She pulled back from me, and I noticed for the first time since arriving that she had a little blue-green bag with her. It looked sequined, and Mrs Tripe handed it to me.

  “Your Mom gave me this, shortly after she arrived. Asked me to keep it safe, and I always have. I have no idea what’s in it, but she asked that I give it to you if anything ever happened to her. And that I must tell you not to open it until you need to. And that you’ll know when you need to. I’ve seen something, and I think maybe you’re going to need it soon, even though she’s still with us. This journey you’re going on, there’s something different about it.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with a finger. “You don’t need to tell me, dear. An old woman like me, I don’t need to know. But I know you need something to keep you safe. But maybe you don’t need to tell your Mom I gave it to you. Not just yet.”

  She passed the little bag to me, and as I turned it over in my hands, I realized it wasn’t sequined at all. The tiny, shiny, translucent things adorning it were scales. Scales from the larbra fish, which Aegirans believe are divine. There was a shell clasp on the top, and I ran my fingers over its impossibly smooth finish. “How will I know when to open it?” I wanted to ask a thousand things, but she stilled me.

  “You’ll know. Of course you’ll know. You already know enough to know that.”

  She held me a little tighter than usual as I made to leave, and I felt my heart thump against her frail body and my breath ragged and coarse in her hair. I wondered what she’d seen in her visions. I wondered if I should try to pump her a little.

  Then I remembered that no-one had ever been able to make Mrs Tripe do something she didn’t want to do. And I doubted that I was the one to buck the trend. Doubtless she’d told me all she could, all she thought I needed. And I guessed that had to be enough for now.

  I jumped back in Ariel, glad to feel the smooth kiss of the leather on my thighs and hold her reassuringly hard steering wheel in practiced hands. She was what I needed – familiar, real. An antidote to the cryptic rabbithole world of visions and secrets I seemed to have fallen into.

  I was so tired. But I still had one more stop.

  She opened the door and shrieked the instant she saw me, arms clawing towards me.

  He was a heartbeat behind her, his arms around her, shushing her gently, leading her back to the couch as he motioned me to come in. My eyes swept his pad, impressed as ever.

  Doug.

  He’s this big man’s man that you assume will have mildew growing in his bathroom, but instead he has the whole thing gleaming and alphabetized. And you should see his armory. If some girl ever marries him, he’ll never need Dr Phil’s Man Camp.

  He was talking so softly to her. “Ma, it’s just Rania. Remember?”

  I waited for Doug’s mother to rail at me some more, but I was relieved when her brow cleared and she relaxed in the sofa beside me. “Oh.” She sounded uncertain, but friendlier than a moment before. Her soft, still-pretty face looked lost and confused. A child caught in grown-up things.

  “Hi.” I stayed as still as I could, like Doug had told me, and eventually she relaxed completely, and her eyes cleared. It was like the last few moments had never happened.

  “Hi Rania. Nice to see you, girl. I’ve been baking. You want some?” She motioned to the kitchen with eyes an all-too-familiar shade of chocolate that tugged at a place deep inside me.

  I saw a charred black circle on Doug’s granite benchtop.

  “No thanks, Mrs D. But it sure smells good.”

  Doug rewarded me with a smile. “Aw come on, Rania.” He gave his mother a quick squeeze around her frail shoulders as he led me away. “I’m sure I can convince her, Ma.”

  When we reached the privacy of his slick chef’s kitchen, I touched his arm. “Bad day?”

  “Nah,” he smiled cheerfully. “We’re fine. Burnt bench-top better than burnt Ma.”

  “Some pair, hey?” I punched his shoulder. “Both living with Mommy.”

  He smiled ruefully, indicating the bench-top with his head. “Least you get brownies.”

  I laughed. “Listen, D, I just stopped by to say ‘bye. And thanks, y’know, for last night.”

  He offered me a mock salute. “Don’t mention it, Sheriff.”

  I hesitated a moment, then pressed on. “I’m sorry… you know, when you tried to tell me something.” I waited, but his face gave nothing away. “Last night. You want to tell me now?”

  Doug’s glance flicked to his mother, who had started keening to herself. “No, Rania. I can’t. Not here. Not now.” I was surprised by how disappointed I felt. What had I expected?

  But he pulled me to him in a rough hug. I smelled salt and cinnamon in his skin and tried to quash the memories of how good that skin tasted. I felt him pull himself back as he started to press into me. He drew a circle around my face with a calloused finger.

  “I don’t know where you’re going, and I’m not gonna ask. But just stay safe, huh?”

  I was sure as hell gonna try.

  Chapter Five

  Rick Astley and Other Old Friends

  Gadulan Precinct, Aegira

  I watched, kinda detached, as tiny bubbles popped like childhood dreams around me and Mom. All the pieces of me weren’t back together yet. My eyes, and the rest of me, were still adjusting after their heady, scattered flight through space and water. But I was getting there. We were suspended, floating, in The Eye of the Goddess, the site of tomorrow’s wedding, re-forming before what looked like a thousand eyes, antennas and various other ways of checking you out. I’d done this often enough to know that we were also glowing burnished gold, like idols.

  Helluva way to make an entrance.

  I knew I was a novelty for those watching. A dark, muscular Aegiran, only my breasts breaking the steel. Mermaids, honest-to-goodness ones, don’t look quite so badass. They manage to look like a Waterhouse painting even though they’re hard as nails.

  Every time I came to this vast marine cathedral I imagined The Awakening. I knew from the legends that the piazza on the island of Hlsey had been the epicenter of Aegir’s storm. And now, in its place, a still, underwater lagoon, the eye of a magical tornado, framed by the rush and suck of mammoth protective walls. The Eye of the Goddess. This tornado, and the temple-like bubble it wrapped itself around, was all that was left of Aegir’s wrath. And it still swirled and broiled ten thousand years later at the centre of a bustling city-state refuge.

  Aegira.

  A place of peace and hope for all who breathed water.

  I couldn’t see Aegira’s golden peaks here in The Eye of the Goddess, but I could picture them. After the sunken buildings of Hlsey had withered, a supple coral hybrid had been used to rebuild. Almost impenetrable, it allowed water through and burned with a fierce golden glow.

  As my brain started to wake up properly, I wondered again if it was Aegira’s glow that had birthed the legend of Atlantis. I blinked a couple
of times to release my little-used inner-eyelids and swept the scene before me. I don’t think I’d ever seen such an exotic menagerie of Aegirans and other sea creatures, promenading together in this giant bubble of warm water.

  My eyes roved over the teeming life caught in the golden light of The Eye. Creatures of all the treaty nations of the deep, and refugees from other, more brutal states. Brilliantly colored fish, who made me feel insipid and small beside them. Massive rays, floating like ghostly liquid through the throng. Squid, eels, some of the more peace-loving sharks. Even a handful of junior dolphins (I guessed the leaders would be at the main event tomorrow).

  Also the covert ones, known only to Aegira. Silent at the bottom of the sea, and grateful for Aegira’s veil of secrecy. Gynomarls, silver-blue snake creatures with women’s faces, midwives to generations of Aegiran women. The displaced Leigons, whom Aegira had adopted, carrying gifts of pearl on their broad, faithful shoulders. Like oxen with fins. Sand Seeders, shifting masses of pure energy that rose from the seabed and could form and scatter at will. Brilliant, but ephemeral. And then the Aegirans. Beautiful to a man, woman and child.

  There were many children here tonight.

  As the thought settled in my brain, I saw her. Swimming skittishly on the spot, looking like she was studiously avoiding gawping at us the way everyone else was as we came back together after the hydroport. The Princess Lecanora.

  All silver blonde hair, floating around her like a halo, and serious grey eyes.

  She was standing close to some children cavorting in the water with a group of young fish of the Resicalian Dynasty. Like peacocks of the sea, the blue-green fish flashed and shone as they played tag in the golden pool with the Aegiran children. I thought for a moment I caught a blast of bittersweet longing in the Princess’ eyes as she watched them.

  It was not in Lecanora’s destiny to have a child. For that, you needed a man.

  And Aegiran men did not choose with those without a line. Not even their Princess.

  I tried to focus as the High Triad, the Queen’s key advisers, moved toward Mom. I could see she was still shaking off the hydroporting detritus, the shards of other places still clinging to her mind and body. Lecanora was holding back, even though she was the Princess. She knew the drill. There would be a moment, soon, when etiquette would demand she greet the newcomers. But there was a strict protocol, and for now she had to wait her turn.

  The Magician, Shar, was first.

  I wondered, not for the first time, why the Triad were all so darned pompous. And why, in a line of female Queens, they were all men. I hid the thought carefully so no passing Gadula could see the treason in my brain. Being judgemental on The Land was one thing. Here you had to be real careful. Someone might hear you.

  Shar was small for an Aegiran man, and had the sliding, stealthy grace of a shark. He slid swiftly over to Mom, running his fingers over eyelids and cheeks before embracing her.

  She stood still under Shar’s hands.

  “Our beloved sister returns. Thanks be to Ran for your wellbeing, and safe arrival.” The implication was clear to all present: one is never sure when you will be butchered by the violent scum you have chosen to live among. Shar’s distrust of land-dwellers was legendary.

  “Why thank you, brother,” Mom smiled sweetly at him. “And thanks be to Ran and Aegir for the kindness and grace of our Queen’s most senior adviser.”

  Shar bowed his head. But beside him, Kraken was bristling. “You brought your daughter?”

  Wow, Lecanora’s uncle needed to work on his manners. Then I remembered that even though she still used the term uncle for Kraken, it had been years now since we’d learned the truth. I watched Kraken, his cool blonde beauty drawing excited chatter from those who had gathered to watch the ritual greeting. Those inky blue eyes flickered handsomely as his pride responded almost of its own volition to Mom’s reference to his status as second to Shar.

  Mom’s eyes widened at Kraken’s breach of etiquette. “No greeting for me, sea brother?”

  I realized she was playing the little crowd, which had drawn a collective gasp.

  Kraken saw his mistake immediately and moved to rectify it.

  “I had simply hoped to greet you both as one,” he offered nimbly.

  I moved close to Mom’s side.

  “I’m here, Kraken,” I tried to smile. I’d quickly donned a beautiful, flowing shift of blue and green one of the serving Gag-ai-lan had offered. Mom was cool with being naked for a while, but I’d gladly grabbed the garb. I had enough Land Lady in me to want to cover up my girly bits. “I see the preparations are well underway. It looks beautiful.”

  And it was true. The strange water chamber truly did look beautiful. Huge structures had been erected to float through the Eye, strung with hundreds of thousands of diamonds, and gleeda bugs had been drawn in to crawl among the revelers, their incandescence reflecting prettily off the stones and refracting a millionfold through the pool. The sandy floor had been settled and was as soft as powder under foot, shining like glass.

  In the beginning, the Eye had been feared, and not just for the powerful magic of its conception. Early Aegirans believed that when the end came, the towering walls of water would collapse, crushing anyone inside. But as they had explored, entering and exiting from the top, where the tornado trailed off into the mass of ocean, they realized it was safe: held in place by the perfect symmetry of pressure and temperature in the deepest place on earth.

  Today, in preparation for tomorrow’s wedding, hundreds of resting spaces littered the Eye at varying depths so groups of Aegirans and their guests could rest without swimming. Sit if they chose, as they talked, ate and celebrated. Each was draped with sea-silks in the blue-green of the royal line. Some were on the seabed, others floated on sea grass mats, like magic-carpets.

  “Thank you, Rania,” Kraken allowed. “And welcome back to your home.”

  Mom was considering Kraken quietly, with her habitual half-smile. But I was sure I could feel the twitch of unease in her shoulders as she considered Kraken’s retreating back and the third member of the Triad glided forwarded. Epaste, the Silent.

  After The Awakening, Aegirans had taken a millennium to evolve the biology for underwater sound. A mute millennium, observing dolphins and whales, watching how they used vibrations under water. From this careful study, a beautiful and complex language of hums, groans and trills, resonant low notes and soprano-like highs, had evolved. And with it, the songs.

  Epaste, however, chose not to use his voice. Neither did he sing.

  None of the assembled company trusted him as a result.

  Epaste moved effortlessly toward Mom like a whale granted the gift of dolphin grace.

  “Epaste,” Mom spoke the Ageirian language aloud. “It is good to see you again.”

  Lunia. Greetings. And to your daughter.

  The massive man offered the welcome of his fingertips over our eyes and cheeks.

  I felt a chill. As a child, Epaste, the summoner of the Seekers, had featured in my nightmares. My eyes wandered to the Princess again. She was still covertly watching the children at play around her. I saw that, even engrossed in their swift game of tag, they knew not to go close to The Eye’s rushing walls. One blonde slip of a girl was particularly captivating. No-one could catch her. She wriggled away from all pursuers, who began to stalk her. Lecanora seemed to follow her clever, nimble form closely with her eyes.

  Who was that child?

  As I watched the Princess watching her, entranced, the tiny blonde waif circled ever closer to those angry walls, and I realized Epaste was done. The High Triad had finished; it was Lecanora’s turn. I gave her a mental nudge. Stay with the program, Princess.

  My old BFF snapped back into the moment and floated over to us.

  She waited a moment in front of us, tracing our eyelids and cheeks. “Welcome back to the home of your mothers. May Ran bless your stay.”

  I spoke again to her mind. Hi, babe. Thirteen years.
How’re things in Aegira?

  Lecanora tried to smile. Dark, Rania. Confusing. And you shouldn’t talk like that. She curled her lip a little, like she was inwardly cursing her stiff response.

  An image rose unbidden. Me, at sixteen, shocking Aegira by binding my breasts as I raced (and won) the Sprint of Atla. Atla, the second Billow Maiden Queen, had also been called Fury, and I’d channeled her rage that day, daring my too-big breasts to stand in my way.

  Lecanora had swum skittishly on the sidelines. Worried for me. Always worried.

  I thought about how we’d once been inseparable. Singing, swimming, talking to the dolphins. Lecanora had totally got me. Despite all my Land stuff. And despite her mysterious past. Or maybe because of all that.

  She studied me slowly. Your hair’s shorter now. Like a pixie of Norse legend.

  I laughed into her brain. I always forget how you guys talk.

  She frowned quizzically. Yes, it must be hard. So long without hearing the language.

  I shook my head. I didn’t mean that. I meant the—

  The Princess seemed to be doing a nervous little jig on the spot.

  I wanted to settle her. It doesn’t matter.

  But she was still frowning. I just meant… It’s lovely. The hair. It sets off those strange brown eyes and full, algae-red lips.

  I tried not to laugh again. How did you even start to explain how weird it was to talk like that to someone like Lecanora? I shrugged. That’s me. All land-dweller.

  She shook her head, her hair billowing around her like smoke on the wind. Not all of you. She cocked her head to the side, sized me up. You are tall. Broad of shoulder. You have large feet and long fingers. Your neck is long too. The characteristic trait of the regal Gadula.

  This time I did laugh. I tried to imagine any girlfriend on the land telling you that you had large feet and a long neck, like it was a compliment.

  Lecanora’s gaze shifted to Mom, and I saw it soften even more. I tried to see Mom as Lecanora did, a classic Aegiran beauty, with a twist of something interesting and spicy. Like Abermonth, the rare delicacy from the south-western ridges, served at royal weddings.