“Naiad colonies aren’t like human monarchies. The crown isn’t inherited through a direct line of descendants as much as it leapfrogs through generations. Naiads don’t benefit from turning the power to the next young leader. They benefit from one leader who grows in power, collecting the blood of a thousand souls.
“It’s rare for aVideretocorda-cruorto another Naiad, unless the other Naiad is powerful in their own right and from a separate colony, willing to leave their own. Even if such a Naiad is found, it’s likely aPrizivac Vode—a descendant of a Videre. A prince or princess, if you need to think of it in human terms. ManyVidereswouldn’t give away a strong Naiad, let alone their own child, to strengthen a rival colony, when that offspring would otherwise one day feed their own lifeblood.”
I nodded remotely, watching the sunlight graze the waves as my stomach curled at the thought of a parent drinking the blood of their child simply to extend their own life. Strangely, the thought made me ache for the comfort of my father. My father had his shortcomings—but he’d never drink my blood.
“If you thought Aegir wanted to claim me for acorda-cruor, that means he’s a virgin?”
Selena laughed. My eyes drifted to hers, surprised at the prospect of my question being funny. She nodded. “Yes, though virginity is a human construct. Such a thing doesn’t exist in the Naiad world. You’re eithercordaedor you aren’t. Your worthisn’t based on your lack of partners. If anything, it’s based on how powerful a bond you can create with someone else.”
When we met, I thought you were untouched by a man.
My cheeks flushed, and I quickly changed the subject. “How was Thaan able to become so powerful without a colony of his own?”
“Well, he has a colony, doesn’t he?” Selena sighed. “His is simply out of water. Thaan keeps his history private, but from what I’ve learned, he was the child of aPrizivac Vode,and therefore one himself.”
“No. I meant…” I leaned into the shore, the water cool against my tail. “Why is he important to Calder? How did he become an advisor to the King?”
Selena sent me a humble smile. “Sorry, Maren. If I’d mastered all the riddles in the world, I’d know how to wield the Triad.”
I frowned.
Somewhere, in the dark and musty corners of my mind, a memory surfaced.
It had been the first time I’d paddled out to Neris Island by myself. Nine years old, in my father’s canoe, I’d found Nori and Olinne—almost as though they’d been waiting for me.
Who are you?I’d asked. They’d been terrifyingly beautiful, like nothing I’d ever seen.
Naiads. Stewards of the Water, born from Theia herself,Nori had answered, tilting her head so her wine-red hair rippled out from under her in the waves.We number two, but we search for a third. A Steward of the Land. It’s through the Triad we will find balance.
They hadn’t explained what it meant. What followed between us was an imagined friendship. Years of island training, caring for birds and plants, healing roots and leaving seeds, all to bind me to Juile waters and help my power grow. It’d been so long ago, I’d forgotten they’d ever said it.
“What did you say?”
Selena’s gaze flickered over my face. “The Triad?”
I stared at my mentor in mild disbelief as memories continued to unravel.
You would need to become a custodian of the island, Nori had said, as though trying to discourage me from joining them.A curator of leaf and stem, ash and rock, wing and talon. You must sing to the land and creatures as if you were their mother, and you must love universally, whether you meet the pesky ant or the sacred turtle. You must save all forms of life, and in doing so, you must also create it. You would spend your youth away, driving a wedge between your people and yourself. It is not a fate made of wistful desire. Aloneyou would live, little creature. You would not belongamong other humans.
I’d swallowed, my small body growing very still. I remembered how the coastal wind had stroked my face, pulling strands of hair across my cheeks, rustling the hau bark tied at my hips. Waves had licked past my ankles, wet silt separating out from under me, sinking me into the shore.
When I spoke, I looked between the two women, long and beautiful, waiting for my response.
I am already alone,I’d said.
Shaking the image away, I gazed at the Naiad next to me. “Yes. the Triad. What does that mean?”
“They didn’t teach you the Triad? With all yourcorda-cruorsto the land?” Selena sat up straight as if unsure where to begin. “It’s everything. Everything you touch and see. Everything in the air and water. It’s a Naiad myth and Naiad law, woven so tight it's impossible to know one from the other.”
“What is it?” I asked again.
“The story my sister and I were told was of two brothers: Xeno and Corvus. They were warriors of Theia the Moon when she was a young starling, early in her rule. They were invincible—fasterthan an arrow, silent as shifting grass. Together, they worked as a team, reading each other’s minds as they fought—one guarding as the other attacked. They defended all life, but especially that of the sea. They could go anywhere and take any shape. They were kind souls, loyal and devout, and Theia sat on her throne in the sky, watching them protect and honor in her name, and contemplated offering them immortality.
“One day, Xeno came upon a young woman on the coastline of their sea, stuck to her waist in sand, slowly sinking. Androma. He threw her a rope, tied his end to a tree, and climbed into the sand after her, pulling them both to safety. As a reward, Androma kissed him, sweet and simple on the cheek. She went about gathering flowers for her basket and singing her songs.
“Xeno was entranced. He followed her, shifting into a rock, a leaf. Every day he crept away to steal a few moments watching her picking flowers in the sun.”
A child of Leihani, I was raised listening to legends each night by the fire. All Leihaniians were lovers of myth, and I leaned onto my elbows, my pale-gold tail stroking the shifting rocks, watching the clouds above while listening to Selena’s rich voice.
