“It’s a sea. The Clarian Sea, to be exact. Clarian, meaningbright,clear. It spans across much of my lands.” His soothing voice awoke the part of me that purred in his presence.
“I thought you didn’t have power over water?”
“I don’t. It’s the one element that eludes me, but I can control air.” He gestured to the invisible platform supporting us. “Regardlessof my inherent inability to work with water, all life needs the Mother-given element, my lands included. The Summer Court is rich with it, but I cannot wield it, nor can anyone from my court, I’m afraid.”
How strange it must be to have all that power, but have a single element evade you, remaining just out of reach.
“Can other courts wield water?”
“Yes. Here, join me for lunch and we can visit.” A staircase going down under the sea’s surface appeared next to him, pushing the water out of the way. He turned and followed it below, disappearing out of sight.
Curiosity trumped fear, and I tentatively followed him.
Cautiously, I took a toe and tapped the base of the first step. The beading on my sandal glinted in the light as my foot met a hard surface. Placing my sole flat, I slowly lowered myself down. A soft, bemused laugh came from Caius, and he came back up the stairs, offering me a hand.
When at the bottom, my breath caught. We stood in a small, circular dome within the sea, perhaps ten paces across, and just as many high. It wasn’t a room of walls, but of a translucent nothingness—as if made from the water itself.
Caius was right about how the courts wield powers in different ways, some to display beauty, and others for control. Amos had used this same magic to hold me in, to create a sound barrier around us, but Caius… He used it to experience the impossible.
A warm slickness weaved through my fingertips as I glided them along the invisible barrier, creating ripples like a pebble disturbing a lake. About halfway across the domed room, I knelt, fascinated by the exquisitely colored, porous, plantlike structures that stood taller than me, mere inches away.
“Is this coral?” I whispered.
“Yes.” Caius’ voice sounded like Endymion’s when he’d watched me explore something new. What had he called it again? My wonderment?
“I see now where the color gets its name.” It was a near perfect match to the fabric Alejandro had held up to me and tsked, saying,Does nothing for you, darling. A shame,before tossing it aside.
The coral teemed with life, an unending variety of fish lazily meandering here and there. Their colors were vibrant beyond my wildest imaginings.
“Do you like it?” he asked, voice tentative.
“I’m not even sure how to describe what I’m feeling right now.” I paused, trying to find the right words, to identify the emotion.
“Do you know how we gaze upon the stars on a moonless night?” I said, turning to face him.
He nodded.
“We see the vast expanse of their glittering wonder and call them beautiful. But I think we settle on that word, knowing that being in their presence, bearing witness, is a blessing that goes beyond seeing alone—because it is more than that. It’s a great privilege to be in the presence of such…” Words failed me, and I didn’t want to diminish the stars by using a synonym that would pale the truth, so I left the unspoken words floating there.
Finally, I said, “Honored, Caius. I feel honored to witness such beauty.”
“I feel honored too, Nyleeria,” he said, and I wasn’t entirely sure he was talking about the teeming life around us.
I broke our gaze and turned back to the sea.
With what looked like no effort on Caius’ part, an entire picnic appeared before us, except it was more of a feast in picnic form—complete with a blanket and all. I went to sit on the ground, or what constituted the ground in that dome, and was pleasantly surprised. While it felt solid underfoot, it gave way as if I were sitting on sand.
I piled ceviche onto my plate.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you last night,” I said, “but your food is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before and pleases my palate beyond measure.”
Caius smiled with pride. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. The SummerCourt is blessed in many ways, and our access to fresh food is one of those blessings.”
I smiled back at him and remembered the conversation we’d left unfinished up on the surface. “You said other courts can wield water, but your court can’t—why?”
“Well, each court has limitations based on how they are tethered to the Mother. The Summer Court can wield fire,” Caius said, and along the edges of the dome, embers shone brightly, filling the space above us as if they were stars. “Air,” he said, and a water bubble with a fish in it swirled around me, then returned to the sea. “And earth.” A soft rumble shook the ground beneath us, making everything sway. In a blink, the embers faded, and everything went back to how it was.
“But water eludes us.”
