“Your colony is made of only females,” I said, unbothered by her admonishment, “whocordaeeach other to mate with human men, then drown them." In Naiad bodies, I assumed, so that their offspring would be Naiad-born within the colony.
Sidra smiled softly. Regretfully. “It is our duty to create life. Though I’ll not lie to you that we’ve also created death.”
“And your females kill their infant sons?” I asked, taking a step away from the queen and narrowing my eyes. I couldn’t help but remember the churning feeling of rot in my stomach when I’d realized the Naiads of the Juile Sea were responsible for the deaths of the sailors I’d been blamed for. It returned to me now, putrid and cloying, dredging deep inside me like a festering worm.
Queen Sidra’s beautiful face wavered. But her chest and chin remained high. “Have you never wondered why you were born female?” she asked. I stared icily at her, unwilling to validate her question with an answer. “Of course you wouldn’t. But there isa reason. It was our intention, hundreds of years ago, to build the male population of our colony through our attacks of human men. But no sons ever came. Only daughters. I assume part of Theia’s curse, to ensure our demise. There hasn’t been a Naiad male born in the Juile Sea for almost a thousand years.”
She gestured for me to follow her again. We must have been close to the top of the colony; the tunnel was increasingly narrow. Ahead, a door stood open. A slab of white stone like everything else. Sidra stopped just outside and inclined her head, inviting me once again to enter first.
“I felt your mother enter the waters, of course, and sent Nori and Olinne to watch her. Naiads do not often stray into other colonies, but I hoped to find the Child of the Moon, and could not afford to be hasty with punishments. Nori gave me her own memories after. As anOculos, she can share with me what she has seen. I watched your father pull your mother from the water and waited for him to throw her back once he realized what she was. Waited for the curse to take hold, for his suspicion to sink in. But he didn’t. He bundled her up in his arms and rowed her to shore. And when he married her a few months later, I thought I had found her, for who else to deliver the Breath of Safiro but the woman who defied the curse of the moon?
“But your parentscordaed, and whatever spell she had over the island lifted overnight. She was outcast, except by your father. The Leihaniians never understood why they couldn’t trust her, why she felt evil—but to them, she was. And I never knew what she was running from, but she ran from something. Her own blood vows locked her tongue so tight she had only a few words, and when I approached her through Nori and Olinne, she was all but mute, and I knew her days were numbered.
“They say the world turns to crimson red when your blood finally kills you for abandoning a vow. I don’t know if it’s true. But I could feel it coming for her, her oaths left forsaken. If thereis anything you can never run from, it is your own blood. She had asked me to watch over you, and Nori told her I would.
“And you were intelligent and eager, so easy to teach, so fast to learn. We watched you constantly, worried that the island might attack you. They didn’t know what you were, they only knew what their instincts told them—that you were different. Dangerous. If a sailor’s eyes strayed to watch you, we stole them in the night, for we couldn’t afford a man to take you for pleasure andcordaeyou for life.
“For years, we were vigilant. We were careful. We were protective. But we made a mistake. We forgot, as all sirens do, the rules of the bond. A young man came half-burned and almost dead to Neris Island. He fell into the water, and we thought to leave him there. To let him die, to hide his body away. And when you dove in, we couldn’t stop you from saving him without explaining why we didn’t want you to. By the time you reached him, we thought he was already dead. But then you pulled him to shore and blessed him with Naiad oxygen. Do you remember, child, the laws a Naiad must follow to tether herself to another life?”
My mouth parted as it dawned on me what Sidra was suggesting. I glanced across the walls, suddenly desperate to stall for time before answering, and a warm shiver ran down my spine, my heartbeat loud in my ears. The narrow room, devoid of anything but smooth rock and tallies, blue light, and spiny plants offered me little answer.
“To create life,” I breathed. The image of Kye’s deathly pale, sunburnt skin returning to color flashed behind my eyes. “And to preserve it.”
60
Maren
I'dcordaedmyself to Kye the very moment we met.
Sidra nodded smoothly at my dawning clarity. “In a millennia, I know of only one other Naiad whocordaedin the same way. My daughter, Leibra.” She turned to the door, running a finger along the edge. “To say it is rare is to understate the extraordinary uniqueness of it. It is almost as unheard of as a bond broken while both Naiads live. It isn’t something you have control over. Only The Fates know when destiny is decided—when a life is truly saved from death.
“You could pull someone out from under a falling boulder, but have you saved their life? Would the rock have killed them, or simply injured them? You have no way of knowing whether they would have been utterly lost. And to some degree, you need to put yourself in mortal peril to rescue them. If someone is about to drink poison and you knock it out of their hand, have you saved their life? Or simply done them a favor? The rules aren't understood by living souls. They’re not meant to be. They belong solely to the Fates.
“So, you’ll perhaps forgive that we didn’t fully gather it ourselves at first. There is a scent betweencordaedcouples after they mate, warning other Naiads they are taken. Because of the nature of yourcordae, your scent was unfamiliar. We didn’t recognize it at first. We had no evidence you bonded after you pulled him from the water, and we couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t send him away, as you did with other humans, when he followed you. Strangely, I wonder if the only being who knew washim. His heart called to yours, and he followed it.”
Sidra cocked her head, an odd expression taking root in the corners of her wrinkled eyes. “Naiads whocorda-cruorthrough mating will experience a stronger bond every time they join bodies.” The Queen of the Juile Sea paused to ensure I understood her meaning. “I would assume it’s similar for those whocordaedthrough preserving life. I didn’t expect, when we pulled you below the surface to transition you, that he would fight so hard to reach you, or that you would do the same for him. And when we tried to pull him away, we realized what he was to you. That he was claimed by your blood, and therefore not to be touched. And it was stronger than I would have thought, that protection your blood had over him. It reminded me of Leibra and hercordae. A mated Naiad will protect theircordaeat all costs, but that does not change the fact that they mated through lust. You are bonded through something else. You might lust for his body, but yourcordaewas made through preserving his vitality. And it was strong. I’m curious, child, how many times did you save each other’s lives before you left the islands?”
I gave a small laugh, coiling my hair into a rope. Our bond grew stronger with each time we saved each other? On the islands, I’d breathed life into him, and he’d killed a shark for me. And since then—too many times to count.
Sidra watched, a knowing smile on her lips. “That many? I’d ask if he obsesses over your safety.”
“He does,” I conceded. But I obsessed over his just as much.
She laughed softly; her eyes closed in amused irony. “All my careful planning fell apart within the time it took for you to swim him to shore. And then they stole you, and we did not know where. Nori hid and watched as they forced you onto the ship. She’d never seen Thaan before, but she caught sight of his eyes and felt herspiculaetingle. She followed the ship but was unable to track you further through the harbor, then returned to report to me what she’d seen. An unknown Naiad hadincantedyourcordaeand taken you aboard a ship. I never expected to see you again. Why, little creature, did you reenter the waters of the Juile Sea? Why did you betray your blood vow to come here? What is it you seek?”
Heart thudding in my chest, my head awash with theMihauna-damned obviousness of my bond, I gulped my thoughts away. “Answers.”
“Yes,” Sidra said, her hand rising to curl around the Breath of Safiro through her silk dress once again. “And did you find them?”
“Plenty of them,” I said in a gush of air. “But not the ones I seek.” I rocked back on my heels, breaking her gaze to scan the wall, etched in patterned tallies. It was a tiny room, with only a shallow pool that came to my knees. I ran my hand along the carvings, the stone moist and warm under my skin.
“This will be your room while you stay with us,” Sidra said, the rich command in her voice yanking my attention from the wall.
“I can’t stay,” I said, lifting my hand from the smooth ivory. “I need to return to Calder tonight.”
Sidra stepped away, her hand on the stone door. Realizing what was happening, I lurched forward, arms outstretched, prepared to shove at the old woman if it meant escaping. ButSidra was faster than she looked, and the door closed with a slam that rang in my ears, so hard and solid I was forced to snatch my hands back to avoid them being crushed.
Sidra’s face appeared in a hole in the door, large enough for only her eyes and nose to peer through. “My child,” she said. “Your stay will prove longer than that.”
