Page 106 of Salt in the Seas
The Sayhleen still didn’t move, but his gills flapped as though searching for water that might calm him. “Why should I believe you?”
“Because I can show you,” Gaeren said.
This time the older woman stepped forward, her eyes rimmed red and the wetness on her cheeks likely more than rain. “Show us what?”
“I’m a noetic progeny. Velden, Aeliana, and I rescued his mother’s tail from a poacher. We brought her body here so Velden could say his goodbyes. And now it seems she has family who could benefit from that closure as well.” He held out his hand. “Let me show you.”
“Don’t,” the man growled, and the woman stepped back, distrust written on her features. But to Gaeren’s surprise, Nori stepped forward, placing her hand in his.
He was already spent from his fight with the sea, his starlock nearly drained. But he pulled up the memory of their fight with Dreyfus and their escape to the water. He made sure to remember Velden’s grief for good measure.
The memories broke off with a painful snap as Nori’s father tore her hand from Gaeren’s.
“He could have killed you,” he said.
Nori’s eyes shone with awe. “They saved her,” she whispered. “They’re telling the truth.”
“You’ll let the elders decide that,” her father said. “And we won’t hear any more of their lies until then.”
The man dislodged Nori’s net just to lift the Sayhleen tail, then tightened it around Velden once more. To Gaeren’s dismay, they were dragged back into the water with far less care over how they fared. Even though they could still touch the sea’s floor, the Sayhleens swam them along the coast, dragging them along like the day’s catch. The nets made it difficult to stay above water, much less plan any sort of escape. But the Sayhleens were able to transport them faster than they would have made it on land.
By the time they’d reached a different beach, one that held a small town’s harbor, the storm had mostly abated and other Sayhleens were rising from the water. Gaeren’s mouth hung open as wide as Cyrus’ as they watched the people transform their scales, sliding them away for leathery skin and shifting the kelp-like hair to a range of colors silkier and smoother. Tails and fins transformed to arms and legs. Minimal scales remained on torsos to maintain modesty. Was that how they clothed themselves, or would they eventually don trousers and tunics? Even the Sayhleens who had captured them shifted more than they had before, their gills folding in against their neck and the webs of their hands smoothing out to fingers.
Velden held up his own webbed hands in curious comparison, drawing Nori’s gaze.
“Oh.” She leaned over to inspect him through the net. “Are you really Rhoda’s son?” she whispered.
“No more talking,” her father chided.
She stepped back, biting her lip and bowing her head in deference.
A crowd gathered around them, making Gaeren more anxious as possible escape routes diminished. Cries rose as people recognized the Sayhleen tail, and within moments there was a sea of people kneeling down and wailing in their grief. Their mournful sounds rose almost like a song that was both horrifying and awe-inspiring, leaving Gaeren uncertain if he wanted to cover his ears or hold on to the memory to revisit later.
Velden kneeled as well, his face in his hands as he wept.
Several young men approached, their scales remaining in place like armor, weapons at their sides. Gaeren couldn’t hear the words exchanged because of the wailing mourners, but it was clear they were about to be carted off to some sort of waiting place or prison.
Holm and Lukai exchanged grim looks, determination on their faces as they reached for their weapons.
“Wait,” Gaeren hissed, trying to be heard over the wails but not by the soldiers. “What if they’re willing to listen? If we fight back now, we immediately make ourselves enemies. But if they listen, we have a chance.”
“And if they don’t listen?” Sylmar asked.
Gaeren frowned, glancing back at Aeliana.
“I agree with Gaeren,” she said. “I don’t want to fight these people, not when they’re mourning the same woman we are.” Her gaze rested on Velden, her eyes filled with compassion. “Besides, we came for a purpose. We need them to take us to Lady Merinnia. We need to get our questions answered.”
Sylmar sighed, but his tense posture relaxed. “I doubt our weapons can do much against these nets anyway. The Sayhleens would have removed them from us otherwise.”
As the soldiers began leading them away, Velden finally put up resistance. “Please, no,” he cried as they pulled him to his feet. “I know you’ll take her out to the sea. I know you’ll release her to the water, to the sprites.”
Gaeren tensed at the absurdity of that part of the ritual. How could he respect anyone who worshiped such vile creatures?
“I wasn’t able to hold her in her death.” Velden went on. “Please don’t deny me the chance to release her to the sea.” He made similar hand motions to the Sayhleens, far slower, but with purpose.
The soldiers hesitated, glancing at the man who’d brought them in. Even he looked momentarily uncertain as he followed Velden’s hand motions. “How do you know Water Words? And of our rituals?”
“My mother taught me.” Velden’s shoulders slumped and he squeezed his eyes shut. “She came every year when the water was warmest, even after I was grown. She told me of her people, my people. She told me of the Seer and your Awakening celebrations. She told me she would never regret coming to Vendaras, that she would never regret me.
