Chapter 93:Epelda’s song was hauntingly beautiful. Her voice rose in the wind, calling it to action. Ael felt the prickling of her daughter’s magic along her skin. It was almost enough to steal her breath from her lungs. Dragons’ saggy tits! Had her daughter’s magic become stronger since she carried the Dragon in her? She let the thought hit her and then let the tide carry it away. She had no time for such worries. The enemy was near. No weakness before an enemy. Instead, she gave in to the instincts that called to her to change their headings, minor changes, as if the Moon guided them to safety.

  For an hour, they sped along using Epe’s magic. The crew worked tirelessly, barely speaking to one another as they went about their tasks. The pink light of dawn had come by the time they slowed. From the deck, the Grand Admiral held the spygss to her eye, looking out over the water. The spots of darkness were no longer on the horizon. They had escaped. For now.

  The only one not frantically working was the Dragon in Evander’s body. He was sprawled out on a piece of cloth on the deck, like a cat sunning himself. The thin mist from the ocean swirled up and around him, like a strange bnket. She checked her urge to throw him into the sea. The Dragons were allies. He was an ally. And, unfortunately, in her first mate’s body. She stormed over to him, pnning to ream him out for not assisting in the All Hands. But he looked up at her with a bored expression, and she felt the fury die. He wouldn’t care. She would not waste her energy. Instead, she let loose a different question that haunted her.

  “How did they find us, Dragon? We are leagues off course. We crossed the bloody Forbidden Sea. And they are still here, leagues from the front!” He blinked at her, slow and sleepy, as if she had woken him from a nap. Perhaps she had. Served him right for having a nap on the bloody deck!

  “The Shadow-blooded can see the paths of the future. Not as well as you, if you actually tried, Moonlet, but well enough to spring a trap. The fact that they haven’t won this little skirmish already means that they are not all-powerful, but merely middling.” He yawned, stretching from his fingers to his toes like a cat. “You want to avoid the traps, Moonlet, you’ll have to actually embrace who you have become.” He smiled, but it was a thin, mean little expression. “Tell me, how did you learn about this trap before it was too te? Have you actually learned to trust your blood?” She crossed her arms, about to deny him any information, but she saw, then, an opportunity. The Wind Dragon did not wish to reveal who was a Demon on her ship. But perhaps he’d reveal it.

  “No, it was not me. We were warned. A voice in the night.”

  “Oh?” he sat up now, his attention on her fully, his eyes critical. “Did you hear this warning?”

  “No, my wife.”

  “When?” he pressed.

  “In the night, in our chambers, while our children slept nearby.”

  The Dragon nodded, and he absently began to pick at a fluff on the bnket he sat on. The wool was damp, she could smell it faintly. The sounds of the crew had picked up as morale improved, the danger not forgotten but put out of their minds.

  “I think, Moonlet, that you know who the Shadow born is. After all, history does like echoes and waves.” He did not look at her, and she saw something of Evander shining through. His voice shifted to his more familiar tones. “He won’t let me see, Admiral. But he knows. Dammit.” And with that her friend was gone, trapped inside his own mind. She bile rose in her throat, and wanted to hit him so, so very much.

  “If you wanted to know, truly, Moonlet, you’d ask your own blood.” The Dragon’s tones were no longer easy and rexed, but tense. She realized that he had not meant to let Evander slip through, that her first mate had bested the Dragon! She felt a surge of pride, washed away by a wave of worry. Would the Dragon punish him?

  “My own blood?” she echoed, not understanding the Dragon’s message to her. But he simply grinned at her, his smile too toothy, and did not answer.

  “It is getting hot,” he compined instead. “I will take my leave.” He rolled up the musty wool bnket, tucked it under his arm, and strolled away.

  Exhaustion and frustration warred for dominance, and Ael gave into exhaustion. She set orders in pce so that she could rest, so that Epelda would be left to sleep off her own exhaustion. Being down Evander meant going further down the chain of command, which she hated, but she knew if she could not think then she would be no good to anyone. They continued on their new heading, following the favourable wind. Nereida had likely retreated to her brother’s cabin to see to the children. That left the cabin empty and terribly quiet. Ael let sleep cim her.

  She dreamed strangely, of a robed figure presenting an infant bck dragon to her and her wife. Or to the Moon and Ocean. She knew, in her dream, that the infant was Shadow, felt the Moon’s love for the little, wriggling creature that had been born blind and deaf like a kitten. His scales were dark as a cloudy night, but still seemed to shine in the firelight. He had no teeth and looked completely harmless. Her heart swelled with love that wasn’t hers, but an echo of what the Moon had felt. The urge to hold her son was strong, so strong that she awoke feeling bereft in her bed. She could close her eyes, see the echo of the infant dragon. Her heart ached with borrowed grief. She wanted, so badly, to seek refuge in her wife. Nereida could help her understand these feelings, these dreams.

  Ael had only just changed into fresh clothing when her family came barging in. The boys were in a good mood, pyful and ughing. She smiled at Nereida across the chaos, gd that her wife had good timing and silently berating herself for not barring the door. If they’d been scant minutes earlier the boys would have seen her undressed. She wasn’t fully sure, but it seemed they were too old to be seeing a parent nude.

  “Hi Step-miral!” called Egaz, a silly expression on his face. She ughed.

  “Sorry for the interruption, love, but they were getting stir-crazy in Basi’s cabin with the babe.”

  “She’s noisy,” Alejo grumbled. “And stinky.”

  “Do you hate cute?” Egaz asked his brother.

  “No! The kittens were cute!”

  “Kittens?” Ael asked. Had Dymion been breeding cats again? Didn’t they have enough of them?

  “One of the ship cats had a litter st week,” Alejo boasted. “We got to see them this morning, since we were good st night.” Egaz looked suddenly guilty, thrusting his hands into his pockets and looking away. Ael looked at her young son, and felt a wave of grief from her dream. She shook it off, and instead knelt beside the boy.

  “Do you need to talk, Egaz?” The boy looked at her, chewing on his lip, before he shook his head no. She ruffled his hair, then his brother’s hair, earning her a groan from both of them. He’d come talk to her when he wanted. If he wanted. She hoped. Still, part of her wanted to hold Egaz tightly and sooth him, let him know he had her love.

  They ate dinner as a family as the sun began to drop. She had not realized how long she had slept, but the ship had not needed her, and might tonight. Demons preferred to attack in the dark, or at dusk when the shadows were longest. The boys were excited about the kittens and talked about nothing else, talking over each other and correcting each other excitedly.

  “Do you think they’ll be this excited about our daughter?” Nereida whispered wryly to her. Ael smiled back, but something still bothered her. What had the Dragon meant about history having echoes? She wanted badly to talk to Nereida about it. But not in front of the boys. She didn’t want them to know what was swishing about in her mind. Let them be children as long as they could.

  As they cleaned up, Egaz surprised the Admiral with a fierce hug around her leg. He almost knocked her to the floor with his exuberance, but his hug wasn’t simply tight. It was desperate. Her chest fluttered with something, but she couldn’t fathom what had caused his behaviour.

  “You alright, crewman?” she asked him in a gentle whisper. Normally calling the kids crew got them to open up. He smiled at her, but there was worry in his expression.

  “I’m fine Step-miral,” he replied, his grin breaking apart the early worry that danced on his face. His teeth were not fangs like his mother, but simple and straight baby teeth. “I just love you.” She smiled as a shield against the grief from the dream. She heard an echo, “I love you mother,” in a child’s voice she knew but could not pce. She closed her eyes tight against the overwhelming emotions that were not hers, before she gruffly excused herself to take her shift on deck.

  “I’ll see you once they are in bed,” Nereida called to her. The Admiral nodded stiffly, not trusting her voice. She didn’t want these emotions. They weren’t hers. Hers were enough to bloody deal with!

  Once on the deck, she could breathe again. The wind, gentle but insistent, carried her fears away. She busied herself with work, checking their heading, getting the star charts ready. They would check their position once night fell, should they get the chance. She ordered extra eyes on watch, lending her spygss to Epelda so the sprite could keep better watch from the sky. Her added height gave them an advantage that the Admiral could not pass up.

  The Admiral would not be surprised again. She would not let the damned demons hurt anyone else she loved. She took over at the helm, so that the helmsman could get a moment to relieve himself. Her hands at the wheel, she felt calm, collected. At least, she did, until Epelda blew a whistle from her pce in the air. A single peep. Danger on the horizon. The sylph came fluttering down.

  “They found us, Admiral.” She was short of breath, clearly tired from her flying and singing. “Only two of them, from the spots, but they still found us!” Her voice trembled.

  “Change course,” the Admiral lifted her voice, letting the weight of the command carry her voice to everyone on deck. “Let's confuse these dragon-cursed curs and get some distance!”

  It was going to be a long night.