“Now it is Mikoz’s turn,” he announced.
“Absolutely not,” Corinne said immediately.
“He needs to learn water safety.”
“He’s a baby.”
“He is Cire. We begin water training young.” He lifted Mikoz from her arms, ignoring her protests. “Trust me.”
He carried the infant to the rail and stepped over, lowering them both into the water in one smooth motion. Mikoz’s eyes went wide, then he let out a delighted chirp and began paddling instinctively.
“See?” he called up to where Corinne leaned over the rail looking terrified. “Natural swimmer.”
“He’s going to drown and I’m going to kill you.”
“He is not going to drown. Watch.”
He supported Mikoz’s weight with one hand, letting the infant experiment with moving his limbs. Within minutes, Mikoz was propelling himself in short bursts, his natural Cire instincts taking over. When he started to tire, he lifted him back onto the boat where Corinne immediately wrapped him in towels and checked him for injuries.
“You’re insane,” she muttered. “Both of you are insane.”
But she was smiling, and Mikoz was chirping happily, and Anya was already asking when they could do this again.
They spent the afternoon on the water, eating the lunch Corinne had packed and exploring the tide pools near the rocky outcroppings. Selik showed them how to read the tides, how to identify weather patterns, and how to respect the ocean’s power.
It was the best day he could remember having in years.
As the sun began its descent, they motored back to port. Anya fell asleep on one of the benches, exhausted from swimming and sun. Mikoz dozed against Corinne’s chest, his small snores audible over the engine noise.
He guided them through the harbor traffic and into their slip, smoothly executing the docking procedure. Jarrek was waiting on the dock—he’d promised to help secure the vessel—and together they made everything fast.
“Good day?” the boy asked.
“Perfect day.”
And it had been. Perfect in its simplicity, in the happiness of his family, in the peace of being exactly where he belonged. They carried the sleeping children home, and Anya woke only long enough to stumble to her bed before collapsing again. Mikoz went into his crib without protest, clearly exhausted.
“Thank you,” Corinne said as they prepared for bed. “For today. For all of this.”
“You do not need to thank me for giving you what should always have been yours.”
“Still. It was perfect.” She kissed him softly. “You’re perfect.”
“I am not. But I am yours.”
“Same thing.”
They made love slowly, both of them tired but unwilling to let the day end without that connection. Afterward, Corinne fell asleep almost immediately, her body relaxed and trusting against his. He held her and stared at the ceiling and tried not to think about how temporary this happiness might be.
The days that followed continued in the same comfortable rhythm. He worked his shifts for Captain Drov, learning the seasonal patterns and building his reputation as a reliable fisherman. Corinne continued at the processing facility, herspeed and efficiency earning praise from Chanda. Anya studied and explored and spent increasing amounts of time with Jarrek, though always within the boundaries Selik had established.
And Mikoz grew, his vocabulary expanding daily, his coordination improving, his personality emerging as something uniquely his own.
They had become part of the community. Jarrek’s family had them over for dinner regularly, and Selik found himself enjoying conversations with Jarrek’s father about fishing techniques and market conditions. Corinne made friends with several of the women at the processing facility, and came home with stories and gossip that she shared over dinner.
It was normal. Ordinary. Everything he’d never thought he’d have again. And then the message came.
He was preparing for bed when his private comm device—the one only Tarak knew how to reach—buzzed with an incoming transmission. He stared at it for a long moment, dread settling cold in his gut. Three months of silence from his former second in command. Three months of no contact, no updates, no warnings. That silence ending could only mean one thing.
