Page 8 of Winds of Destiny
Cam
The path to Ophiucas’s cove is free of others. Of course it is—my sister and I are walking the royal route, which is reserved solely for our family and servants, instead of heading to one of the public temples. Turo probably walked this very path last night as he came to pray for Doric.
I wonder what he’s doing right now. I ache to see him, but Gilraen is right—I need to see this through, and that means visiting Ophiucas and asking for a marriage blessing. Our god is always with us and seems to delight in our presence. I can’t remember the times before the everwinds died when he roamed freely beyond Zephyth’s bay, but Gilraen can.
“It was harder in some ways for us, but far better for him,” she’d told me more than once. “Without the everwinds to help whip up a storm to get him out of the bay, Ophiucas is trapped here with barely enough room to stretch out his body before running into the reef. He can find food and answer prayers and show us his love, but it’s not healthy. He ought to be free.”
When I was little, I didn’t understand that last part. Why would our god want to be free of us? Now that I’m facing down a lifetime of duty for a good cause, I commiserate with him way more than I ever did before.
Gilraen leads me into the sandy sea cave no more than ten feet tall that lets us look out into the bay. I can barely make out the shape of Ophiucas in the water—he’s gone as deep as he can today, perhaps feeling overheated from the sun. My heart aches for him. If he were just a little smaller, he would be able to slip out of the bay on his own, but he’s just too big and too heavy to make it without the massive waves that the everwinds used to produce.
My sister kneels, and I follow suit. She pushes her long sleeves back, revealing light-brown skin rarely kissed by the sun, and lowers her arms down until they touch the sand, turning her face to the side. When she starts to sing, her voice echoes from the little cave’s rocky roof. She sings a song of praise and a request for our god’s attention. I don’t join in until the last verse, when I must.
“A blessing for my wedding day, long life, and happiness together come what may.” The words are bitter in my mouth. “Share with me your blessing, I beg of thee.”
For a long moment, there’s no response. The water doesn’t stir, not even a ripple.
Gilraen looks unconcerned, but I’m starting to wonder just what the consequences of not getting a blessing on my impending marriage will have on this betrothal. I’ve got to marry someone —my father has made that clear. Would Ophiucas prefer I marry that…that awful…
A sense memory of Embros’s strong arm jerking me hard against his chest as those bright, evil eyes stare at me is almost enough to make me gag. I close my eyes, trying desperately to retain my control. I have to hold it together, I have to! No matter what happens, whether I’m blessed or not, I’ll never, ever marry that wretched sea slug of a man. I would sooner throw myself off the highest tower in Zephyth than accept a fate like that.
Comforted by my internal pledge, I find the strength to open my eyes. What I see before me makes me startle, almost enough to send me leaping up to my feet.
Ophiucas is right in front of me. I didn’t even hear him leave the water.
I stare at the enormous sea serpent, awed right out of my dismal mood. Ophiucas is so big that he can only get the front of his head into our little cove; his needle-sharp teeth are easy to see beneath the thin, pearlescent skin along his jaws. His maw is as long as I am tall, and his long horns nearly touch the roof before jutting back out into the sky. His eyes are as big around as my head, and the deepest, darkest purple I’ve ever seen.
There are ages of wisdom in these huge, kind eyes. There’s also a deep fatigue, and for the first time ever I really take a moment to look at our god, rather than simply taking his presence as a given.
He’s thin, thinner than I re member. The skin around his gorgeous eyes is dark, almost bruised, and here and there I can see algae growing over his beautiful scales, dimming his shine. He looks…tired. Exhausted beyond all measure. He’s been pent up in our bay for nearly twenty years. Is he growing so tired of it that he might…
Gilraen elbows me hard in the side, all while maintaining her smile. “Finish the entreaty!” she mutters.
The entreaty, right. I need to ask for the blessing again.
“Great Ophiucas,” I begin, and the god’s nearest eye focuses right on me. In that moment he looks so understandin g and kind and so similarly wretched that I can’t stop myself. I crawl forward until I’m close to him, close enough to touch, and before my sister can stop me, I wrap the top of our god’s snout in an embrace.
“Camrael!” my sister whispers in horror, but none of the punishments the priests say are my due for touching the god without being invited come my way. Instead of snapping me up and crushing me between his mighty jaws, he tilts his head and leans ever so slightly into me. A moment later, a soft crooning sound fills the cove. Tears fill my eyes, and I hold on even as I start to cry.
“I’m getting married,” I confess as well as I can through my sobs. “I’m getting married, and I know I have to, to make Zephyth a harder target for Kamor to attack. It’s the only way we’re going to avoid a terrible war, but… I’ve never met this prince before. I know nothing of him. All I know is that I’m already in love, so please. Please. Give me the strength I need to do the right thing for my city and my family and for you so that I can leave this place and keep my heart from breaking at the same time. Bless my marriage so I don’t just give in to despair.”
“Camrael…”
My sister says it softly, brokenly. I want to turn and comfort her and get comfort in return, but then Ophiucas blinks his enormous eye. When he opens it a moment later, something is shimmering in the corner of it. I reach out and grab it just before it falls to the ground.
“ Oh .” It’s a pearl, the usual sign of Ophiucas’s blessing for marriages and for safe childbirth, but this is far larger than any pearl I’ve ever seen before. Even the dark-gray pearl my father wears in his crown is smaller than this rich purple beauty that takes up half the space on my palm.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, rubbing the perfectly smooth surface with my thumb. It’s an almost perfect orb. It will look gorgeous as the centerpiece of a crown, or in an elaborate pendant setting. Blessing pearls are meant to be worn, after all—they’re a symbol of our love, and for those of us with a connection to Ophiucas’s magic, they can even allow you to communicate with whoever wears your pearl over distances. Still, I’m not sure if a delicate thing like this will suit my undoubtedly large and burly Dellian husband. Perhaps if I—
“Cam, look!” Gilraen’s eager cry jolts me out of my thoughts, and I’m just in time to see Ophiucas raise his eyelid once more. Another shining pearl drops into my hand, this one as black as an urchin and as lustrous as the moon. It’s the same size as the first, and together the two of them fill my hand completely.
A second later Ophiucas slowly recedes from the cove, his body dipping back down into the water until it vanishes. I watch him go, my heart aching for both of us, and yet… I feel soothed. One pearl would indicate a blessing from my god. Two must mean that he thinks very highly of the match indeed.
My sister scoots over next to me, and I fight to make sure my expression doesn’t give anything away. I’m not ready to share my revelation—more of an assumption—with anyone else yet. “May I see them?” she asks, and I hand her the pearls a bit reluctantly; they feel warm and somehow soft against my skin, for all that the nacre is harder than some stones.
“How beautiful,” she marvels. “I’ve heard of Ophiucas giving more than one pearl before, but only for mothers who are going to give birth to twins!” She glances at me slyly. “I don’t suppose you’ve gone and gotten yourself pregnant?”
“Gilraen!” I laugh, so unexpectedly that I almost can’t believe I’m the one laughing. I should be sad—I am sad—but I’m also…a little happy. Just the tiniest bit. Seeing my god is always a reason for joy, even if he’s clearly not well. “No, I’m not pregnant. Not for lack of trying,” I add with a simper, and she rolls her eyes. That I have regular bedmates is common knowledge in the palace.
“Then perhaps it’s because you’re a prince,” she murmurs. “Although I only received one pearl for Loran.” And a lovely pearl it was, a vivid blue that matched the shallowest waters of the bay. He’d given her one of pale gold, which she’d had set in a necklace she never takes off. Her pearls for my niece and nephew rest alongside it, familial blessings that I will likely never have. I’m not sure what gifts await me from my husband, but this tradition is unique to Zephyth.
Perhaps I’ll keep the knowledge that Ophiucas’s pearls let the giver sense what the recipient is doing to myself for now. I’d rather explain it directly to Eleas than go through Kai first.
“Maybe you get two because you’re leaving us, instead,” my sister murmurs. And thank you for the reminder. “Should I have a special setting made to accommodate both of them?”
“No,” I say immediately. “Let’s keep them separate for now.”
“All right.” She sets the pearls back down in my hand, and I give a little laugh.
“I guess I’ll have a decision to make when I get to Huridell. Which pearl do you think will better suit my husband-to-be?” I roll them in gentle circles, awed at how the colors complement each other.
Gilraen smiles at me. “I’m sure you’ll know when you meet him. I’ll have both of them put into pendants this afternoon, and you can hand him the one that seems right at the time. Now!” She claps her hands together. “Let’s go choose the wardrobe for your wedding celebration.”
Ugh, the proxy wedding. In the excitement of meeting with Ophiucas, I almost forgot about that. I don’t want to do this—I hate that my father is making me do it—but there’s no way out of it. I’ve got to put on a good show for everyone in the city who will be watching me.
And before that, I’ve got to get through another meal with those Dellian oafs. At least Turo will be there. I’m desperate to see him again…
And maybe to cross wits with Commander Kai once more before I’m locked into a facade of matrimony with him. I wonder if he finds the concept as unsettling as I do, pretend-marrying me like we’re children playing at being adults.
We’ll see.