Areilycus' skin burned under my fingers, fever radiating from him like a trapped sun. His glow, once soft and golden, now surged in uneven waves, each pulse weaker than the last. I wrung the cloth again and pressed it to his brow, listening to the faint hiss as water met heat.
"Here," Bonnie said quietly. She reached for the rag in my hand. "Let me. You've been at it since dawn. You need rest."
I shook my head. "I do not."
She frowned. "Everyone needs rest. Even eternal beings."
I studied her, the hard lines of her face carved by sun and wind, the way her eyes refused to flinch from me as others did.
"Rest is unnecessary," I admitted at last. "I do not hunger, I do not thirst, and my body does not weaken."
Bonnie dipped the cloth and laid it on Ari's forehead with unexpected gentleness. "Are there others like you?"
For a moment, I considered silence. But her hands were steady, her presence grounding, and the truth pressed against my chest like tide against rock. Perhaps my divinity didn't need rest. But my soul did.
"Tripolis has many guardians," I said. "My brother Ros, patron of reason. He orders the minds of our people, keeps them from spiraling into chaos. Volmira is the keeper of bloodlines, punishes incest and betrayal so the old houses do not devour themselves. Cleopatra is the guardian of all living things. She commands nature and the seasons cycle on Tripolis. Lasicus—" My throat caught. "Lasicus sees everything. He can peer into hearts, into futures. He rarely bothers with mortals. He finds them… beneath him."
Bonnie glanced at me. "And your twin? You said he was exposed to this storm that ails your world. Who exposed him?"
I stroked Ari's damp curls, anger and sorrow twisting together. "Lord Father likes to play games with his children. The Diamond Storm comes once every ten years. He sent Ari into it, knowing what it would do. Knowing it would kill him."
"Your father sounds like a bastard."
The words startled a laugh from me, bitter as salt. "We call him the Assigner. He gives roles. He decides who lives to guard the people, who burns, who breaks. To him, we are pieces on a board."
Bonnie was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than I had ever heard it. "I was married once. To a man who thought people were pieces. Who liked to see how far he could bend them before they snapped."
I looked at her then, really looked, and found no mockery in her face. Only understanding. The ship groaned around us, but for a heartbeat it felt as if the sea hushed to listen to her.
"I am sorry," I said.
She shrugged, as if it cost her nothing, though I could see the shadow in her eyes. "Don't be. I survived. And so will you. So will he." She nodded toward Ari.
I wanted to believe her.
****
I could hear them whispering behind my back. The crew was afraid of me; they no longer looked at me with curiosity and a hint of desire in their sunken, hollow eyes. Fear gripped them now, fear of the misunderstood, the unknown. Even Bonnie who I came to like, seemed changed by our conversation. Somehow.
Edward was the only one entirely unbothered by me, if not slightly angry I refused to tell him the whole truth of who I was, what I was made of.
Admitting to him I didn't know myself was not an option. Vectra taught me many things about those trapped in their flesh, chief amongst them: Never reveal your weaknesses to them.
We were beings of higher calling, serving them, yes, but there were tiers to our service. One of them, quite high on the ladder of their worship had to be the purpose of lifting them up from their sad little lives.
Their comfort and respect had to come from the lack of knowledge more often than the truth. Tripolitans were aware of us, of our spirits, but even they had reservations about knowing us fully. It was easier to worship the unknown than knowing you worshipped lies.
That included us, apparently. The Assigner had a better way of explaining it, but even if he summoned the most magnificent of words, I never knew why he kept it a secret from us.
From me.
I assumed my twin and I were created from the same cosmic matter, the divine stardust tamed and molded by the Assigner, but I could never be sure.
We were so different, Ari and I.
By the time I began thinking about it, it didn't matter anymore.
What right did a lowly pirate have to know me if I had none to know myself?
****
We stepped off the gangway and into the bustling heart of Aazor, the port city on Valorian that throbbed with life. The cobblestone streets teemed with merchants hawking their exotic wares, sailors swaggering with bravado, drunkards slumped against the walls with bottles clutched like lifelines, and prostitutes whose painted smiles never quite reached their eyes.
Food stalls lined the thoroughfare, the tang of brine mingling with the pungent scent of spices. I eyed skewers of sizzling kryth meat, its juices hissing as they hit the coal, and bowls of writhing shilworms, a local delicacy said to taste like the ocean's secrets, according to Bonnie.
Pots of zephyr stew bubbled merrily, the steam carrying hints of wild herbs—Sydrian thyme and crushed Vellarian leaves, famed for their healing properties when brewed into a tea.
"Captain Kinsley," I ventured, my curiosity stirring as much as the stew before us, "how did you come to meet Neptune?"
He smiled, a glint of far-off memories dancing in his eyes. "Ironically, right here in Aazor. He was pretending to be a fishmonger, reeking of Lyviatan guts, but there was something about him... I took to him immediately."
"Even though he smelled like fish?" I teased, dodging a child chasing a runaway grifflefruit down the street.
"Especially because of it," Kinsley chuckled. "In this line of work, you trust a man who knows his catch. Only, I had no inkling he was the king of the seas."
"None at all?"
"None," he affirmed. "By the time I learned the truth, Salacia, his wife, was already plotting a coup." His smile faded, replaced by a hardened edge.
I reached out, my fingers brushing against the rough fabric of Edward's sleeve. He recoiled as if I'd struck him.
"Don't," he hissed under his breath, glancing around nervously. "Here, gestures mean more than you think. Touching is... it's not done lightly, didn't Bonnie prepare you?"
"Why?"
His gaze held mine, fierce and urgent. "On land, people are bound by different tides. They're conservative, Mila. If they see us touch, they'll assume things. That we're married."
"Married?" I stuttered.
"Exactly. And if they find out we're not..." He trailed off, a shudder running through him. "They have ways of dealing with such... indiscretions."
"Like what?"
"They'd hang us by our genitals upside down," he said matter-of-factly, "And then, let the Piscos have their fill."
"Piscos?"
"Little fucker piranha," Edward deadpanned, a grim shadow passing over his features. "Trust me, you don't wanna ever encounter them, much less allow them to think you're food."
I tucked my hands firmly into the folds of my cloak despite the impression that Edward Kinsley was making fun of me.
***
It was a strange relief to be on solid ground again, even if it was just a mere speck of Valorian territory, surrounded by the vast expanse of undulating oceans.
Twelve of them, to be exact. "Stay close," Edward cautioned over his shoulder, weaving between merchants hawking their wares and sailors spouting ridiculous tales.
Twelve oceans, one large port city on the land called the Continent and a handful of unpopulated islands that drowned in heat and volcanoes. Valorian was a nightmare, indeed.
We reached the fringes of the city where the crowd thinned and the buildings grew sparse. There, nestled between a craggy cliff face and the sea, lay a cluster of modest dwellings unlike any I had seen before. They were an eclectic mix of fabric, wood, and repurposed ship parts, artfully arranged as though they'd sprouted from the earth itself.
"Who lives here?" I asked.
"Vlachy," Edward replied, his voice carrying a note of respect. "They are travelers by nature. Like the Nereid of the land, Neptune used to say. Except they can roam no more. Neptune's father drowned the lands and took them underneath for his own keepsake a long time ago. Now there's just Aazor."
"Do they have powers?"
"Some of them, yes." Edward's eyes met mine, steady and reassuring. "If there's a way to help your brother, the Vlachy will know what to do."
"I know what I need," I reminded him.
"Well, to get to Isla Rhea, you will need more than just the Lioness. Trust me, these folks know the magic of this world better than I."
I nodded, swallowing the lump of anger that lodged in my throat. For my brother, I would walk into the unknown, lower myself before Sensibles if need be.
The cobblestone roads gave way to beaten dirt paths, Edward took the lead, guiding us to where the Vlachy made their home. These edges were quieter, the bustle of the town center a distant hum, replaced by the hushed whispers of the wind through the canvas tents and makeshift shelters.
We stopped before a tent larger than the rest, its entrance flanked by totems I had never seen before in my life.
There stood a woman conversing with a little boy dressed in rags, giving him a doll made of hay.
Her eyes fell upon Edward, and her lips twisted into a scowl.
"Oh hell no," she spat, her voice rasping like dry leaves against stone. "Leave this place immediately."
Edward's charm unfurled like a flag in the breeze. He stepped closer, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Soileen, I come not for myself today," he said, his tone smooth as silk, "but for this young woman. She seeks aid for her beloved."
A protest clawed its way up my throat, but before it could escape, Edward's gaze pinned me silent. His eyes held a warning clear as day: trust in his words, in the role I had to play.
"I do not care which whore of yours needs help, Captain. You will leave us."
"She is not my whore, you should know better than than," Edward frowned. "She is a friend in need. The same need I was in. Her husband fell ill. She needs your help, Mother."
I ogled Edward wandering if the greeting meant she was his biological mother, or if she was simply the mother of the clan. I doubt he would ever tell me even if I asked.
Soileen's eyes narrowed, studying the coins Edward offered with a skeptical glint. "The witch will speak to her," she conceded, her voice gruff, as she snatched the money from his palm.
"Thank you," I murmured, though my gratitude was more for the progress than for her acceptance.
Soileen turned and beckoned me forward with a finger. She pulled back the heavy canvas flap of the tent, and a strange mix of incense and damp earth wafted out to greet us.
I hesitated at the threshold. Edward nudged me gently from behind, and I stepped into the dim interior, the daylight shrinking away as the flap fell closed behind us.
"They have a thing for doomed lovers. Let them think the help is for your beloved," Edward whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
It was not in my nature to lie.
First time for everything, I guess.
***
"Rhona, this is Mila," Edward began, his voice unexpectedly reverent, "she's a friend in dire need of your... expertise."
The witch's gaze, sharp as the edge of a scythe, sliced through the semi-darkness and fixed upon me. She sat cross-legged on the fur of a mountain wolf, regal and unyielding, her eyes reflecting the flickers of the small fire before her.
"Sit," she commanded. I obeyed, lowering myself onto the cushioned ground opposite her,
"Your hair," Rhona said, "one strand."
Hesitation knotted within me. There was something in her expectant silence that compelled obedience. My fingers trembled as they lifted to my head, sifting through the strands until one came away, a singular piece of my essence held delicately between thumb and forefinger.
Our hair recorded light and time. A skilled Seer could read past journeys by following subtle color shifts, like tree rings. Cutting a lock might reveal a personal history or even open a brief vision of where we've been.
How this 'Rhona' knew what to ask of me remained a mystery.
I extended my hand, offering up the filament of my being to the witch of the Vlachy, and watched as she took it, her touch surprisingly warm against the chill of my skin.
Her fingers closed around it, and with a swift, fluid motion, she cast it into the fire. The strand curled and twisted before vanishing in a wisp of smoke, as if consumed by an unseen hunger.
"Your heritage," Rhona murmured, peering through the veil of smoke as though it were a window to another world. "The blood of the Vlachy runs thick within you, tangling the threads of fate."
"That's impossible," I countered, the words dropping like stones from my lips. "I am not of Vlachy descent."
"The elements never lie," she intoned. "I cannot help you. It is forbidden to cast spells on a fellow Vlach."
"I seek Isla Rhea," I confessed, keeping my voice low enough that Edward, lingering just outside the dim circle of light, might not catch the weight behind my words. "It is said to hold the key to saving my br-beloved."
The witch's eyes narrowed slightly, and she took a slow sip from her cup.
"Sacred ground, Isla Rhea is," she began, "untouched by all but the deceased king of the seas. His personal paradise, forbidden to all others."
My hopes flickered and dimmed like the flames. "There is one other option," Rhona said.
"Speak," I begged.
"We have long been in need of a leader. The last Vajda of the Vlachy had been cursed by a Celestial generations ago. We haven't had one since."
"Why do you assume I could be your leader?" I narrowed my eyes at her.
"Because it will save your brother," she said.
"I didn't tell you I was seeking to help my brother. I said beloved," I replied tersely.
Rhona gathered a fistful of earth into the palm of her hand and tossed it into the fire. "He is both," she proclaimed.
Edward chuckled beside me, poorly hiding his smile behind the fist pressed against his lips.
"What shall I do?" I asked.
"The Vajda has the power to summon the White Snake and ask a favor. He will grant you your wish and heal your brother. It is simply how it works between him and this clan."
My heart sank again. The Assigner poisoned Ari and then left him to die. Even if Rhona was correct and the Vajda had the power to compel a favor out of him, the moment he'd see my face, he'd surely find a way to get out of that obligation. Maneuvering out of deals was his specialty.
"I'm sorry. I cannot be your Vajda," I said, thanked her and left.
***
Edward gently took my arm and led me away from the witch's tent, from the Vlachy's homestead. The pain in my chest was bending my shoulders.
"Enough of this," I said, pulling away slightly. "You've taken me as far as our agreement stated—the port, Edward. You can leave."
He halted, a smirk playing on his lips, an infuriating habit he had when he knew he was about to be annoyingly charming. "Perhaps I like your company."
"Quit it, Captain," I insisted.
He sighed. "You need a dragon's heart to heal your brother."
I perked up at those words, my heart skipping with a surge of hope I hadn't expected to feel again so soon. "Great," I said, trying to mask my eagerness with nonchalance, "where do I get it?"
The revelation unfurled from his lips with a casual flippancy that made my patience boil.
"It's aboard my ship, hidden in a crate Bonnie is currently hiding and tending to."
In the space between heartbeats, I registered the words, processed their meaning—and reacted. My hand, swift and unthinking, cut through the chill breeze and landed a stinging slap across Edward's cheek.
It's the least worst thing I could have done to him.
"You had the thing that can heal Ari and didn't tell me?"
He shrugged, the corner of his mouth twisting up in a rueful half-smile. "I don't know you, lady. And I don't owe you anything. However, now that I know you are a Vlach …"
His nonchalance fanned the flames of my fury. How dare he toy with something as vital as my brother's life? How dare he stand there, exuding arrogance while holding the key to Ari's salvation so carelessly within his grasp?
"I am seeking to resurrect Neptune and the Vlachy consider that an abomination, they won't help me."
"Disobeying death is an act of abomination. And arrogance," I retorted, pulling Bonnie's shawl tighter around my shoulders.
"But since I just learned a peculiar truth about you, Celestial, I have decided to share the heart with you and save your brother. If you perform the ritual to resurrect Neppie."
I snorted. "I am not a Vlach. And we don't know that will work."
"Rhona is never wrong. And never lies," he reiterated her words. "Perhaps your mother or your father fucked a Celestial and that's how you were born, you just don't know it."
"Even if that were true, I wouldn't know how to perform your ritual."
"No need, I know what to do. I just need a Vlach to do it."
I sighed, my chest filling with irritation. Bargaining with a Sensible, and a pirate at that.
"There are side effects to resurrection, Captain," I cautioned. "He might not come back exactly as he was. You might be disappointed."
He smiled, all teeth and joy. "Oh, so you do know how to perform resurrection."
"It's forbidden on Tripolis, too," I said. "The Assigner is the only one who grants or takes life."
"But you've already violated rules, desperate as you are. The Assigner is the one who exposed your brother to radiation, no? So, fuck him."
I looked away, trying to desperately hide my anger. I told only Bonnie it was my Lord Father who did this to Ari. Note to self: She tells him everything. Even things shared in confidence, implied or otherwise.
Edward leaned closer, taking me by the shoulders. "Fuck him, I say," he grinned. "If we weren't willing to defy the divine, we'd forever be beholden to its whims and unhappiness."
"How do you know the divine is unhappy?"
Edward scoffed. "Mila," he purred, "if you knew for a fact that everybody hated you, wouldn't you be unhappy?"