“Have you eaten yet?”

Rowan shook his head. “I waited for you.”

“That was most chivalric of you,” I said, only half-teasing, handing him a seaweed wrap.

“So tell me of the challenge. How and when will it happen? And I’ve been wondering. Can the queen summon sea serpents?”

“I’ve not seen her do so, but my guess is that there is nothing I can do that the queen cannot.” I took a bite, sitting on Rowan’s rock, glad to not be standing. I had not realized how much time had passed. Seeing his confusion, I explained. “There may be minor skills that the queen can perform and I cannot, or the opposite. But mostly, those will be performative, but lacking substance. The ones that will be tested are those which save lives, and protect them. Such as sea-binding, which she excels at.”

“What is sea-binding?”

“It is the art of holding the water still no matter how wild it becomes: an essential skill for calming storms or redirecting tidal waves. As to how the challenge will happen: on the last day of the festival, the queen or her council asks for challengers.”

“Which she’s never had— Nerys? What is that?”

I stood, taking another bite of seaweed wrap, and looked in the direction of Rowan’s pointed finger. When the pelagor emerged, I dropped my wrap and ran to the water’s edge. It had been many years since I’d seen one and knew well its perceived significance.

“A pelagor. They are an extremely rare species, so rare, most are unlikely to see them in their lifetimes. We can ride it if we get closer. Hurry.”

Making my way deeper into the sea, I dove headfirst into the water and, holding my breath, stayed there long enough to allow the pelagor to feel my presence. Willing it not to leave, I finally emerged, surprised to find Rowan swimming beside me.

“I was uncertain if you’d come.”

He swam surprisingly well, for a human.

“This is madness. It’s more likely to swallow us whole than give us a ride.”

We headed out even further and then treaded water, waiting. “It would never eat us.” I thought about that more deeply. “At least, it would not eat me. Perhaps it knows the difference between a Thalassarian and a human.”

Only because Rowan appeared genuinely concerned did I drop the ruse. “I am jesting. They— look!”

It was coming toward us.

“Stay here.”

“As if I have anywhere else to go.”

Diving beneath the waves, I angled myself toward the pelagor and watched. It was, indeed swimming toward us. Closing my eyes, I envisioned it gliding under Rowan and me.

He is human; tread carefully.

Emerging once again, I laughed at Rowan’s expression. “He knows you are human. When you feel him under your legs, just allow yourself to sit and float upwards.”

“Nerys—”

Whatever he was about to say had to wait. The pelagor was under us now. It moved through the water so slowly, I was certain it had heard me.

“Steady,” I called, as we were raised above the water. Moving myself to kneel beside him, the back of our pelagor slightly concave and four times wider than Rowan’s bed, there was no need to hold on, even if we wished to do so.

As we moved, I watched Rowan marvel at the mosaic of blues and purples that made up the unique coloring of the pelagor we rode. It was my second time seeing one, the first not nearly as large or magnificent, but just as awe-inspiring. They were gentle and intelligent creatures that humans likened to whales in their world, though pelagors were much larger. Their size could be intimidating, as evidenced by my wide-eyed companion.

“It is… magnificent.”

Running my hand along the slightly rough back of the pelagor, who seemed intent on taking us further out to sea, I was rewarded by a deep rumble of contentment.

“He likes it,” I said, reaching for Rowan’s hand, placing my own on top of his and showing him the circular movements these creatures were said to enjoy.

When the pelagor made the sound again, Rowan smiled as if he were a young one. It was the smile of innocence and unadulterated pleasure. I removed my hand, or attempted to. Rowan reached across and put it back in place.