I leaned back against Auriel’s chest, and tried to breathe, watching the water move, and imagining that soon, soon, I’d have more than a memory. I’d have Rhyan in my arms again. The ache would be gone, and I’d have Rhyan’s chest to lay against, his company to travel beside.
Auriel tightened his arms around me, and I fell into the rhythm of his breathing.
I lost track of the time after a while, my mind almost quiet until the water dragon began soaring faster.
“We pass the borders of Lumeria,” Ramia called out. “We in Afeya waters.”
We were officially entering the territory controlled by El Zandria, the desert land inhabited by King RaKanan, and the Afeyan Sun Court. For half the year, Queen Ma’Nia also resided there. The couple spent every winter together in Khemet ruling over the Moon Court together, and every summer in El Zandria. Being now at the start of the spring season, she was alone, ruling over the Afeya of her home court on her own. From the way Ramia explained things, it sounded like that was going to work in our favor.
“Too many Afeya,” Auriel whispered, “are never a good thing.”
I swallowed, starting to feel nervous. Ramia turned our water dragon back north, heading for shore. I could feel a shift immediately. The sun, blazing and bright, began to fade. The air cooled rapidly by several degrees. Every sweep of the water dragon’s wings brought us further into darkness. Instead of the sparkling reflection of the sun’s light in the ocean, it began to reflect the stars. And though night wouldn’t fall for hours upon hours, the sky quickly darkened, and the moon replaced the sun as our source of light.
“Is it always night here?” I asked.
“Always,” Ramia said. “And always day in El Zandria.”
Our dragon lowered, its tail splashing in the water, until it sank to the surface, its body coasting on a wave. We rose with it, the wave growing taller. Another one came and Auriel tightened his hold around me.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Meeting friends,” Ramia said wryly.
“What do you mean friends?” I asked.
“I think,” Auriel said, “she means more dragons.”
I peered ahead. Rising from the splashing water, came three more water dragons, their blue scales sparkling in the moonlight. Blue fires crackling in their eyes.
Three Afeya rode on their backs, flying just above the ocean, the dragon tails dragging in the water as they circled around us. All three Afeya were female, with silver colored skin, and silver-white hair that fell down their backs. Silver armor that reminded me of fins covered their torsos, though they only covered one shoulder. Translucent white skirts flowed out from their hips, blowing in the breeze their water dragons had created.
“Who dares enter the waters of our queen?” All three asked in unison, their voices melodic as they spoke in High Lumerian. The dragons lowered, flying right beside us, the circle growing tighter. Each one had a golden tattoo across their forehead, a waxing crescent moon, a full moon, and a waning crescent.
“I bring important visitors to see my mother,” Ramia said, now speaking in perfect High Lumerian. I’d never heard her speak with such perfect diction or grammar—and realized at that moment, her broken language in our tongue, and even her accent, wasn’t a result of High Lumerian—but some other language—one I didn’t recognize.
“Princess,” all three said in response, and bowed their heads together before Ramia. When they lifted them, their eyes glowed violet. “We were not expecting you. Welcome home.”
“Please. Request an audience for me with Her Majesty,” Ramia waved a dismissive hand in our direction, “and my guests.”
“Tell us their names,” the three said together.
“I bring Lady Lyriana Batavia, reincarnation of Goddess Asherah.”
“Asherah,” the three repeated, their eyes glowing as they continued to circle our dragon, looking me up and down. “Asherah reborn,” they said, translating for my benefit, though it wasn’t needed. Their eyes met mine and they smirked as if to say, yes it was.
“And,” Ramia continued in Afeyan, “I bring the God Auriel.”
“Auriel died,” said the three. “Auriel entered the Celestial Realms for eternity. His soul has reincarnated—many times. At present, he is known as Lord Rhyan Hart. Auriel may not return here. If Lord Rhyan is dead, then Auriel’s next incarnation must be born.”
I bit back a cry. The idea of Rhyan reincarnating—entering a new body, a new life with a new name and a new face without me, going on before I could follow—no. No. It was too much.
But Auriel stepped in front of me, his aura and posture imposing. He looked every bit the God he was. “Tell your queen that Auriel’s back,” he said. “In the flesh. And that I’m here to see her.”
Ramia hissed in annoyance. “Did I say speak?” she asked, glaring back at Auriel.
“We do not take orders from Gods,” said the three, their voices now agitated.
“No?” he asked, his eyebrows lifted. “Then I request you tell her that I have this.” He held up the scroll vial we’d retrieved from the tomb. Its jewels sparkling in the moonlight. “Auriel’s Valya. The last one.”
