Fish Out of Water (38 page)

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Authors: Ros Baxter

BOOK: Fish Out of Water
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“Really?” She sounded dubious, but as though she’d like to believe me.

I nodded.

“Can you share what you see?” Now she sounded like a teenager, curious and impatient.

“Sorry,” I shrugged. “A feeling, not a vision. No visuals.”

She sighed, and in it was all the exhaustion we both felt. “Time to rest,” I whispered, touching her shoulder. She nodded, agreeing, and backed into her room, closing her door gently.

I was planning to stop by the chamber reserved for Carragheen before I tumbled into sleep, but as I passed my own room, I saw him lounging on my bed. The tiredness in his eyes mirrored that of Lecanora, but there was something else too. Something less straightforward, less easy to cure. I sat down beside him, and pulled his head to my breast, stroking his hair.

“What can I do?” My heart longed to offer some comfort from his pain and shame.

He shook his head. “It will pass,” he said, trying to sound confident. “I’ve known for a long time that my father was not the man Aegira saw. But to find him capable of this…” He coughed. “It is as though the foundations of my world have shifted. I always felt like the misfit. As I got older, I let go of it. Maybe the problem was never really mine, but his.”

I had no words to offer him, so I comforted him in the only way I knew. I brought his face level to mine, and kissed him with all I had to give. With my heart, and my hope, and my desire for him to feel whole and well again.

To feel like the man I knew him to be, untainted, unstained by his father’s twisted dream.

He pulled back. “Rania,” he said roughly. “I need to tell you. About your mother and Kraken. I didn’t know. Not really. It’s just that…”

I silenced him with my lips, and as I did I tasted the salt of his mouth, and felt the dead weight of his arms spring back to life, snaking around me and pinning me against him. I felt a hunger in him, a need to take, and to be sated, and I was willing to give whatever he needed.

So I did.

I kissed him with a hunger to match the ferocity of his. I stripped the clothes from his body quickly, furiously, and covered him with all of me. I squeezed his chest, his arms, his buttocks. I ran my hands through his hair, over and over. I tore the pants from his legs like a mad woman. Within seconds, he was inside me, deep inside, straining and bucking to get deeper, wrapping my legs around his waist and crushing me in his embrace. He was kissing me the whole time, drinking from me. Driven, starving. And I was giving him everything I had. My nerves were tingling at the glorious beauty of him, at the electric fizz of his touch.

He was my world, shrunken to this.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from him, but his gaze was somewhere else. Concentrating, focused, trying to get back to us. I tightened myself around him and twisted my body so I was all he could see, all he could feel. I dragged his head back down to mine, and devoured his face, his mouth, his neck.

But it wasn’t enough.

I could feel it in the bunch of his muscles and the uncertainty in his touch. He needed to talk. It took all my willpower, but I stopped. “Okay, what is it?”

He waited a moment, catching his breath. “I have to tell you. I can’t have you wonder.”

I nodded. Okay, but talk about timing. Couldn’t we do this after?

“There had always been things,” he started. “Things that made me wonder. About my father and your mother. But I knew after I found Leisen. She told me. My father would call her Lunia. She looks like your mother.”

The thought disgusted me, and I shrank involuntarily. I took his hand. “It’s not you,” I assured him. “It’s just hard to comprehend. Poor girl.”

He needed to say more. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to, that night, on your sofa. But then you found the shells.”

He looked at me and could see, finally, that it didn’t matter. He had my trust, and the words meant nothing. I knew him, like I know my own skin. He was just like me. And he was mine. Then he was with me again, and there was no need for more words. The demons had been cast out by the sheer brutal force of the thing we both wanted, and his face was still hungry, but focused on me alone as I felt the eruption begin in every cell of my body.

There was no epicenter to this storm. My whole self was on fire, and the blaze that surrounded us was all that existed. I was drowning in sensation, and in the hard, furious pace of a love so wild I wasn’t sure either one of us could survive it. As it rained down exorcising fury upon both of us, we clung together like children facing a storm, and rode it out together.

When it was over, he was panting in my arms, utterly spent and I knew the sleep to come would be the kind I’ll fantasize about through every night of insomnia I ever experience for the rest of my life. I was so totally fulfilled I didn’t even think about a cigarette.

As we went together to a dreamless place where no words were required, I knew that this was not the end of the trials for us, but that together we were a force to make the universe shake. And I fell asleep weeping a prayer of thanks to Ran.

Day Six: Dawn

When I woke, he was kissing me, and his fingers were insistently circling my face and then lower, to the small of my back, my buttocks, my thighs, then around to the front, and across my stomach, my breasts, and my face again. I was ready again, so ready.

He reached down again, picked up my arm, the one with the burn, and spent a few seconds running his rough-soft palms over it. Something about it, the way he was concentrating his touching on the kernel of my fear and self-doubt, undid me.

I pulled him down onto me, bucking against him impatiently, and he looked at me with a question in his eyes, seeking reassurance, seeking permission. I answered him with my hips and then we were one, again, and I was dizzy and lost with the sensation of him everywhere inside me. It was different, this time. No less intense, but without the ferocity. In its place was infinite gentleness, the softest sigh that was whispering in my ear that this was only the beginning, so there was no need to rush. I felt as though we were swimming toward one another, a slow, deliberate stroke through soft water. He looked lost and focused all at once, and suddenly the wolf was gone and he was a little boy, perplexed but joyous, riding a brilliant wave.

The crest lasted for long moments, seeming to climb higher and higher before it crashed down against us, and I was afraid I’d drown in its gushing, rushing insanity. We collapsed as one, and everything had changed.

He propped himself back up on one elbow, and looked at me, and I saw the mirror of my epiphany in his eyes. I had no idea how it could be, after a few days, but I knew that it was true.

“It’s you,” I whispered. “From the dreams.”

“Yes,” he agreed, laughing.

And I knew that no matter what came next, how long or how short the world let this thing between us last, he was mine and I was his. He was the one from my dream, and I would never be alone again while he breathed water or air.

He pulled me down, and we lay for the longest time staring into each other, like people who’d found a slice of themselves that they never knew was missing. It was an utterly new experience for me to be with someone who knew everything about me.

Then I remembered the Seer.

Almost everything.

Two Hours Later: The Queen’s Chambers

Epaste was kneeling like a huge, broken doll before the Queen when Lecanora, Carragheen, Mom and I were called before her again. He did not raise his head, but she met our eyes calmly. Hers were clear and open, but there was immeasurable sadness in their cool depths.

“Epaste and I have spent many hours talking,” the Queen said. “Things are very serious.”

I took a hand each of Lecanora and Carragheen, who were either side of me. I felt the alorha fish jump in Lecanora’s wrist, and marvelled at the strange warmth of Carragheen’s hand. Both sensations gave me support and succor as we sat to listen.

“Tell them, Epaste.”

We waited for the thoughts to be planted in our brains, and were all startled when he spoke. But as he raised his head, his eyes and his words were directed not to us, or to the Queen, but to Mom. “It seems so foolish, now, Lunia.”

Even then, she could not restrain her empathy. She went to him, knelt, and took his arm.

“We all do foolish things, Epaste,” she told him warmly. “And when we do, all we can do is try to make things better, as best we can.”

“Manos found me, when I was at a treaty conference, negotiating the release of the Leigon refugees. At first I was horrified, terrified really. But he… he convinced me that he had changed. That he had spent ten millennia repenting his deeds. That they had come from a twisted admiration of Aegira. And that he only desired to make amends.”

Epaste’s voice was hoarse and broken, unused to being allowed free reign.

“He said he understood my deepest desires, to unify the nations of the deep, to stop the fighting. And maybe even to find peace with the land-dwellers. He said it was possible, but only with the strongest protection, to ensure Aegira would not be destroyed. He told me he had been experimenting with a weapon that could protect Aegira against any foe. And that once we had it, we could negotiate from a place of safety. And unify the world.”

I made a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. “Yeah, right, just like the a-bomb was going to be a great peace-maker.”

Epaste nodded. “I see now how ridiculous the notion was. I am ashamed to say that the weapon only truly became possible after I learned of Zorax’s experiments, from Kraken. But you have to believe that I had no idea that Manos was killing people, tried to kill you. And others… He promised the whole venture would be undertaken peacefully.”

I had never heard Lecanora so cold. “Peacefully except for Imogen and me.”

Epaste collapsed on the floor at her words, prostrate at the Queen’s feet. “He convinced me that the sacrifice of Imogen’s voice was necessary, to hone the weapon. But he assured me she would not be hurt. That once we had come to you with our plan, she would be released. I never imagined that he would take the Princess. I did not know that he had turned some of my aides to his cause — Rila, and some of the seekers — and that they were doing his bidding, over mine. Using them to kill Cleedaline, and try to kill Rania. I am a fool.”

“Yes.” There was no softness in Carragheen’s deep, honey voice.

Epaste spoke again. “Something about Rania made him so afraid, that must be why he killed Cleedaline, to stop her bringing Rania in, but I do not understand why…”

“Then clearly you do not know her,” Carragheen snapped. “He should be well afraid. Of her. And of me. And of us all. Where is he now?”

“I do not know.” Epaste’s voice broke. “I always met him outside the nation, at agreed meeting places. I was careful never to bring him to Aegira.” He paused. “But…”

“But?” The Queen was icy.

“But I am afraid, with all that he has done, contrary to our agreement, and since the incident, the blood in the Eye… I am afraid that he could be here. In Aegira.”

No. It wasn’t possible.

I had thought, when we had rescued the girls, that somehow we were done, or at least my part in all of this was done. That we were almost finished. But at Epaste’s words, I knew he was right. Like a sudden bloody dawn, my vision went red and I felt myself in the grip of something from somewhere else. Carragheen sensed what was happening immediately and rushed to my side, supporting me as I lay prone on the ground before them all. It was like the first time, the first vision, so powerful it stole the breath from my body and made me weak.

The world was red with blood, and an evil presence was laughing behind its crimson curtain. The presence was huge and menacing, the backdrop to everything. Something was different in this vision, different from the other times. I tried to center myself, to switch on to my feelings, which had always been such a reliable guide the other times.

I could not see beyond the blood, but I was struck with a simple certainty.

This wasn’t over.

And worse. This was still my fight. Mine and that of the others here with me. I felt the connections between us, real and immediate, even if I didn’t understand them yet. And I heard Ran telling me, like Rick did, to find the others.

Then it hit home.

This was not a vision of the past.

Or of what was happening now, like when I saw Imogen, trapped and afraid.

It was the future.

I was seeing the future, red and bloody, and I was being told that I needed to stop it. Me and others, connected to me in ways I was only beginning to understand.

After the blood and heat passed, I knew I needed to lie still, recover myself. I knew that the vision had taken a toll on me. But I couldn’t. I had to move. I knew there would be no respite for now. Because there were only two weeks to go.

Two weeks, to change the course of destiny and save the world entire.

Tick, tick, tick
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