Page 172 of Golden Queen
"The king?" I asked as she turned and held out her hand behind her in some signal.
Two identical heads appeared in the blue water. They were both dark, with the same living strands of long hair, but the bodies were wholly different.
Male, I realized as their chests rose above the waterline. Their muscular frames were broader, and their genitals hung quite prominently between their legs. Their bodies changed much less subtly as they emerged from the water.
Cambrica and Withia both giggled, their movements mirrored as they turned away and placed a hand over their mouths shyly.
One of the males looked pointedly at Tekta, and the siren's hand went straight to her rounded belly as though seeing him was a reminder of who had put the child there. It was an obvious indication, at least to me, that he was her partner...husband...whatever sirens called their mates.
Between the two male sirens, they carried a long, wooden box, banded in shining silver. Their arms, thickly corded with muscle, strained under the weight of the thing.
As the males placed the box on the stones at my feet, Fellyanorsa answered my question. "High King Vulcan, Lord of the Seas and Sirens, Lord of Tides and Storms, Lord of Scale and Serpent, Smith of the Forge of Rehdan, has forged this with his own hand for Aelia of Windemere, Star-born Guardian of the Elderwood, Shield Against the Black Flame, and Protector of the Eleven Realms, so that she may defend Idrigard from the rising fell march of death."
The words clanged around in my head like a hammer. That was not broken Alterran. That felt more like an ode—to me! I was rendered speechless as I watched the male sirens reach down to open the box.
As the lid was raised, a wave of clear seawater washed out. It poured out of the box in a torrent, as though it had been under some pressure. I could smell the fresh, briny scent.
It washed out and out and out, far more than should have fit inside the box rushed all around our feet in a wave of warm ocean water.
And when the water stopped flowing, I saw a perfectly dry, white velvet cloth with a sword laid on top.
My hand was drawn to the hilt as though by some force between me and the blade. It was drawing me down, my palm itching to feel the supple black leather of the grip.
I was kneeling beside the box before I realized I had moved.
And then she was in my hand, mirror bright steel glinted as though reflecting some bright light from the cave even though there was nothing more than the faint glow of the vines and the starry night sky above.
I felt her power. Sangui, she whispered, introducing herself to me. I knew the word. It meant blood.
I moved my wrist, feeling the blade's perfect weight in my hand.Mine, my blood whispered back to her.You are mine.
Power thrummed up my arm, through my chest. I knew instinctively what I could do with such a weapon.
I looked up at Io. He was studying me as though he saw a little of what I felt through the blade, and he liked it. He stared from beneath his lowered brow, dark eyes flashing.
He turned away from the pool, and I realized he was slightly aroused. He raised a brow and grinned at me sheepishly as he stepped away to go and find his clothes.
I loved having a sword in my hand, and the fact that he reacted that way to seeing me with one, gave me an unexpected thrill.
The sword felt right—no, it felt perfect. The one Io bought for me in Cosdam was a fine blade, but this one sang to me of honor and of conquest and of glory.
I turned back to the sirens. "Tell your king I will strive to be worthy of such a fine gift."
I should have begged them to take it back. I should have claimed, as I had to Adrio when he brought me the elderwood seed that still lay between my breasts on its silver chain, that I was unworthy of it. But my blood hummed in my body as I held Sangui in my hand. Some great power connected me to her as though lightning had come from the sky to meld my hand to the sword, making her an extension of my own body.
Holding Sangui made me feel worthy of such a gift. It made me feel like I could be the protector of eleven realms, whatever that meant.
The sirens were either unwilling or unable to answer the questions I directed at them about why their king would forge such a sword for me.
The Thyella sea surrounding Windemere was technically my sovereign territory, but I did not harbor any illusions that Vulcan was one of my subjects. It begged the question why he would grant me such a gift.
"We are messengers only, Your Majesty," Fellyanorsa said. "We are not known of the mind of the High King of the seas." She struggled with the Alterran, so it was easy to tell which words she had been directed to relay to me, and which were her own, spoken in an unfamiliar language.
The rest of my questions were met with similar answers, so I gave up and focused on being friendly.
When the Sirens began to slide away into the water after wishing us a fond farewell, Tekta and one of the males, the one I presumed to be her mate, held back.
Io, now clothed, stood at my side, holding my own shirt and pants. I had still given no thought to my nakedness.
