Rapture lost her balance, but Visor caught her. She said, “The gardens are mostly strawberries and blueberries. Sometimes we rotate to other crops.”
Visor and Rapture fed each other strawberries.
The two council druids followed at a distance, engrossed in their own conversation.
A shadow of a winged creature passed over the couple. Visor looked up. A large, white bird flew above the netting.
Rapture pointed up into the trees. “Those are albatross nests. This is their main habitat. The landing bays are past Vedis Hall, near the grottos.”
“Landing bays?”
“Where the birds land and get saddles and reigns.”
“They carry people?”
“Sometimes.”
“They do look particularly big. I didn’t realize albatrosses grew so large. But still, even the average Xandrian is over a hundred pounds. Say you can find some around ninety, how far can the bird carry them?”
“Oh, only children ride them. I never got to, but a lot of the Naiad rangers did. It’s mostly for fun—sometimes for finding people or ships.”
“Ah, no military application. That’s why I never heard of it.”
“And they’re just strap saddles.”
“What does that mean?”
“They aren’t real saddles like we use on horses. They just strap in your legs. They aren’t heavy.”
“Okay, that makes more sense.”
“They’re talking about trying to make bigger birds.” Rapture gestured at a large wooden structure built into the side of a hill. “That's Vedis Hall. It's where most of our politics are done, at least the stuff that doesn’t involve humans. Some of us live there, but most homes are in the lower cascades of the peninsula. We have to go through the tunnels under Vedis Hall to reach it. Well, we could swim around it in the lake, but they won't let you.”
A relatively mature Godiva met them at the entrance to the caves under Vedis Hall. She and Rapture exchanged hugs and sniffs.
Rapture said, “This is my mother, Frigg.”
Frigg said, “Visor, it's nice to meet you—and nice of you to bring Nattie.”
Rapture grimaced.
Frigg laughed. “We were starting to wonder if she would ever come home! I guess her senses took a real liking to you.”
The five walked through the cave complex. Frigg showed them her dwelling. They sat for a time to enjoy a traditional sirenic drink. Frigg bid them farewell.
Rapture and the druid escorts took Visor out the back of the cave complex to lower Xandria. “We can’t go past that fountain. The budding sirens congregate there. They don't want your stinky body confusing them.” Rapture squinted. “In fact, it looks like they are doing a Budding Carol now. I wish you could see that. Oh! We could see it from Grotto Five! We're headed there anyway. Maybe we can stay.” She looked him in the eyes. “You're going to like this.”
The party walked across a floating, wooden bridge. Rapture said, “Don’t fall in here. There are giant sting rays. They won’t hurt sirens, but they’ll sting you. And they can kill you.”
Arnleif said, “There may be electric eels, too. And it’s cold.”
Visor asked, “Even with the hot springs?”
Arnleif said, “The warm water doesn’t usually reach this far. It depends on the current.”
The bridge moved with the waves, and Rapture had difficulty keeping balance. Visor wrapped an arm around her to support her. The two giggled the whole time, at one point pretending to fall into the lake.
They reached a small atoll. It featured a grotto carved out of stone. The grotto had a large fire place in the back. The fire was burning robustly. There were two sirens already in Grotto Five—a Xandrian and a Marigold.
Rapture acknowledged them. “Hi Lara. Greetings Marigold.”
Lara was more mature than most, and somewhat thin, though she was more lean than frail. She smiled and nodded. “Hello Natalia-a ... Visor. It is a beautiful night.” Lara spoke with a certain comfortable grace that made you feel unguarded yet beguiled.
Rapture smiled. “Yes, it really is.”
Visor and Rapture sat on the floor in the front portion of the grotto. Rapture said, “The council druids elect a Konigin. The Konigin is like a queen, but different. Lara is the Konigin now.”
The sirenic scent was overwhelming his senses and dulling his mind. Should he be wondering why the entire druid council wanted to see him?
The grotto was positioned as an observation room across the water from the ceremony area.
Visor viewed the sirens’ preparing. “They’re all Xandrians.”
Lara said, “Yes, the budding carols are strain-specific. It's a celebration of the greatest gift—children.”
Visor watched the Xandrians dance. They were all of child-bearing age. Most of them surrounded a select few—presumably those who had become pregnant. They sang a few chords, but mostly just hummed.
Rapture said, “They haven't started the Carols yet.”
Lara said, “Xandrians are the most common strain. Did you know that?”
Visor shook his head. “No, Engel.”
Lara asked, “Did you know that before the Fracture, banshee and sirens were one race—the nymph?”
“I did, Engel.”
Lara said, “Traditional tale holds that the Fracture was precipitated by a division over war with the satyrs. One faction of nymphs believed that nymphs were destined to dominate Esselin with their divine beauty, voice and grace. That faction became the banshee.
“The other faction wanted to live in harmony with other races. They became the sirens.
“After the banshee destroyed the satyrs, they evicted us from our homeland, Wacken. We settled here in Xandria, where the Aurora Lights and the Azure Moon are especially bright over the lake. We have seven strains of siren in Xandria today. Twelve strains are known to exist.
“We reproduce by budding. We simply become pregnant without contribution from males. Pheromones of other races, particularly human males, can interfere with the budding process. Yet we cannot interbreed with other species of Esselin. It is a sacrifice that Natalia and others make—giving up the joy of having children in return for the protection humanity provides her sisters. It is the sacrifice of individuals that defines races.”
Visor said, “In my studies, races are often defined in terms of selfishness. It’s one of the prongs of civic virtue—selflessness, industriousness, and cognition. In theory, the races with the greatest civic virtue are more successful, at least in terms of social and technological development. They should also succeed in growth, but then, of course, you have the ogres—selfish, violent and mentally lacking—found all across Esselin.”
“While sirens are limited to two small cities.”
“The most selfless of all races. Theory just plays the percentages. Given a range of scenarios, sirens would succeed in the majority—just not all of them.”
“We lack the ingenuity of humans.”
“And our immune system. Perhaps you are still recovering from a civil war and relocation. You don’t have the reproductive resiliency of humans or ogres. It would take time to recover.”
“Yet, despite our shortcomings, we are cherished by all races. Well, not the ogres so much.”
“That makes sense since you heal people. Well, pheromones have something to do with it as well. It is a curious point of study that your chemistry seems so suited to human sensitivities. You are the only sentient race that primarily uses scent for identification.”
“You know a lot about us.”
“My old job required me to know a lot of those kinds of things.”
The Xandrians across the lake began a carol.
Rapture leaned into Visor. He put an arm around her and she placed a hand in his lap. He took in a deep breath of Rapture’s scent, mixed with Lara’s and others’. The daze he entered far e
xceeded anything provided by poppy seed.
The symphonic voices of nature traversed the night sky, magnified by the cool air over the lake. Sirenic voices sang words and hummed as instruments. It was a choir of angels and a celestial orchestra. His pulmonary and circulative systems reacted as their tones changed.
Rapture's wrist touched between Visor’s thighs, and his body responded. Rapture stroked his lap and smiled. She stood and indicated that he should follow. She led him out the mouth of the grotto.
The other sirens had already left.
Rapture led him around the side of the grotto cave. They took a set of steps up to the roof. There was a hip-high pool of water ahead of them. On the opposite side, there was a gentle slope up to a ledge where a single tree stood. The grotto chimney ran through the pool.
Rapture pulled off her clothing and stepped into the pool, dunking her head. She bobbed back up, her hair straight and slick, sticking to her shoulders and back. “Come on.”
Visor stepped in the chimney-warmed water after her. He scooted up behind her on his knees. She turned and kissed him. After a time, he laid her down on the grass under the tree. He lifted his face slightly away from hers. “Mi Ardore, are you compelling me?”
“No, Don. Why?”
“This just doesn't seem real.”
“I feel it too.”
“It’s like a dream.”
“The heaven of dreams.”
“My heart is beating in response to you.”
“Our hearts are dancing together.”
“To a song of angels.”
“To the song of my want and will.”
“A storm unleashed.”
“A love-bearing storm.”
“A storm of sound and light.”
“Reflecting upon us.”
“On your skin so divine.”
“In your eyes, so blue that I can’t look away.”
“Am I still dead?”
Rapture said, “You are not dead.”
He studied her. Her wet hair was weighted so that it lay against the ground, except for the few strands that stuck to her neck and chest, on pale skin so smooth and flawless. He tried to touch her, but his hand stopped, trembling next to her cheek.
She moved her face to meet his hand.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“No, Don. I don't believe you ever have.”
I always just assumed you knew. “This is surreal. I look up, and I see Aurora and a blue moon, so bright in the cloudless night. Their colors are magnified by reflections on Xandrian Lake.”
She looked up over her head as he spoke.
“To my right, and all around me, I hear a symphony of sirens, so pure and perfect.”
She followed his gaze.
He looked back down at Rapture.
“And intimately with and under me, is you, so much more beautiful than all else. And you make me believe. You know I don’t believe sirens are divinity, but you make me believe there is divinity.” He moved his face close to hers. Her eyelashes tickle his cheek. He whispered in her ear. “Because I know that for this Natalia-a, of such beauty serene, to exist in this world, she could only have been planted by God.”
“You touch my heart with your lips.”
“I feel your tears with my fingertips.”
“Let’s live in this moment forever.”
“This perfect moment in time.”
***************
Visor awoke to Rapture's kissing him. He kissed her back for a while before opening his eyes. Rapture's hair blocked much of his view. He didn’t know where he was. There was a stone, domed roof overhead, and a stone wall on one side. She dominated his perceptions.
Rapture asked, “Are you hungry?”
He remembered now that they’d crawled into the grotto to sleep. But now there were blankets that weren’t there last night. “What … food?”
“Well, food or me. Whichever.”
“Sorry.”
“Let's get to my mom's. I can't take you to Sting Ray because of your scent.”
“Yeah, I guess I sweated some.” He rubbed his eyes. “What’s Sting Ray?”
“The community kitchen. It’s close to Vedis Hall.” She grabbed his hand and led him to Frigg's dwelling. Visor and Rapture ate a fruit salad breakfast with Frigg and Rapture's aunt. They discussed the various merits of sea food versus fruit diets. They ate from silver bowls with silver utensils. The discussion turned to the Xandrian silver smith, the Hartzler. Frigg set up a tour for Visor and Rapture. Visor took another bath before he and Rapture met Frigg at the Hartzler.
A crest hung over the main entrance. It was bust of a siren wearing headgear with antlers. She wore a vest with a heart on it, and held a dove in one hand. The background was a mesh of vines and leaves. The entire crest appeared to be made out of silver, but portions had a blue or gold tint, and other portions were tarnished, giving good contrast to the image.
Frigg walked them through Hartzler’s production floor, explaining the process. “Silver is malleable compared to the steel that you are used to working. Whereas you heat iron to soften it, and then pound it into shape, silver is shaped into plates and then cut with a saw. First, you pierce it.” Frigg picked up a sharp instrument and held it up for show. “Then you slide the blade in through the pierced slot. With the blade now inside the silver plate, you twist on a handle to tension the blade. Then you cut the general pattern.”
Frigg motioned toward a Marigold who was cutting a sheet of silver. “If you want to make a good first cut, you can use a fine-toothed saw. The rougher blades let you cut faster, but then if you are making small cuts, as we do for a lot of the jewelry we make here, you might ruin a section of plate. The shavings are collected and reheated, so it's not really wasted. But then later plates will have a mix of silver from different batches, which can be bad. For some designs, you want to use silver plates formed from a single ingot.”
The Marigold repositioned the sheet of silver she was cutting. She clipped it between two clamps attached to her work bench, making sure the sheet was supported on either side of her sawing path. She lubricated the saw and continued cutting.
Frigg said, “You have to repeatedly lubricate the blade so that it doesn't catch and snap.” Frigg led them to a darker area. “This is the soldering area. It is purposefully darkened so that the color of hot solder can be used to judge its temperature. Silver requires a particular solder. For example, you can't use the same solder that you use for bronze because heated bronze solder would melt the silver.”
Rapture backed into Visor and he wrapped his arms around her.
Frigg picked up two different strands of solder and held them up side by side. “In some of the more complex pieces, multiple layers of solder are required. You always use the heaviest solder first, then layer the lighter solder over it.”
Frigg led the trio to a vat of liquid with a vinegary smell. “As you work the silver, it becomes more brittle. That is the same as your steel, Visor. You have to repeatedly heat the silver to soften it. Silver will emit a soft pinkish-red glow when it is heated enough. You then put it in water right away to cool it quickly. Sometimes the heating will tarnish the silver. You then have to soak the piece in a pickling salt solution to remove the tarnish.”
Frigg walked to the end of the shop, where several sirens rubbed silver pieces with cloths. “Polishing can be the most tedious step, but contributes the most to the luster of the final product.”
As they left the silver smith, Frigg said, “And now it is time for Visor to go back to Krafer-West.”
Rapture groaned and Visor grunted in protest. They laughed at themselves.
Frigg said, “It was a joy hosting you, Visor. I hope you enjoyed your visit.”
“Oh, yes—I did very much. Thank you for all of your effort.”
Frigg said, “I will walk you out. You will b
e summoned for Nattie’s atonement hearing.”
Chapter 26
The Blade of Mercy
Athian ran out of the Krafer-West gate as Visor approached. “Visor! Hurry up!”
Visor jogged. “What's going on?”
“It's Sorana! The doctor has her! He wants to take her back to Raykez, and Jon is out on patrol!”
Visor ran to Krafer-West’s courtyard. Sorana and Armaan were ankle-shackled inside a cage that was mounted on a wagon.
A well-dressed man, presumably doctor Finnur, argued with one of the female guards. He had a neatly-trimmed, gray beard.
Visor ran up to the cage, pushing people out of the way. It was locked. “Where's the key!”
Finnur glanced at Visor and then back at the female guard, who Visor now recognized as Charlotte. “I'm telling you. Jon already gave me permission!”
Charlotte stood up to Finnur. “But we weren't made aware of that. You can wait!”
A disinterested Krafer-West Lieutenant said, “Oh, just let him go.”
Visor pointed at the lieutenant. “You shut it!” He walked up to Finnur. “Do you have the key?”
Finnur frowned. “Not on me. And it doesn't matter anyway. She needs to go with me. She's a danger to herself and others.”
Visor partially withdrew Armaan's sword, Fifi. “Yeah, well I’m about to be, too.”
The lieutenant drew his sword. “Whoa, there! Stand down!”
Finnur's personal guard grabbed Visor’s arm. “Careful, boy.”
Charlotte said, “Put it away, Visor.”
Visor slid Fifi back into her sheaf. He held out his fist, showing his advisor's ring. “Do you know what this is? It's WaterCrescent's symbol. I speak for Lord Mourning and the Duchess of Augusta. Stand down, all of you. You, release her!”
Charlotte said, “Let's just calm down. Jon is due back within the hour. We can get this straightened out then.”
The lieutenant said, “There's nothing to straighten out. Jon gave the doc authority.”
Charlotte said, “He meant over the prisoner vampire, not her.”
“Hey!” Finnur’s guard jumped and swiped at the air.
Cespenar flew away, struggling to carry a key chain.
Finnur said, “Look, Visor, I don't know who this woman is to you. But she needs help. If you would just give me a minute to explain something, I'm certain you would agree with me.”