Chapter 27

chapter 27

CEPHARIUS

I had had no idea how imaginative two-legged were until Elle let me see inside her mind—nor how fiction driven.

We'd been working for hours, discussing what we thought the additional marks on the symbols might be: weather patterns, tide patterns, astronomical symbols, signals of ambient pH, and Elle had an example either from the air or their made-up stories for almost all of them.

Then I'd had to be patient while she worked through setting up the cameras she'd pulled from the ROV's loading—but now she was back near me, where I preferred her, by the window.

She rested her head back against the glass, and I wished with all my might that I could touch her. "Okay—what if it's supposed to be scary?"

"Back to the bombs?" I asked.

"No, more back to the plague ship. There's places in the world above, where they're trying to figure out the best way to mark where they've left nuclear waste, where they're trying to figure out how they can warn someone ten thousand years from now that a site is dangerous. "

I found this entire concept intriguing—and then was worried about what the pump the two-leggeds were doing to their ground.

They had so little of it, compared to our oceans. One would think they'd take care of it better.

"What did they do?"

"I don't think they've done it yet. But they were going to use impressive architecture—like make huge thorns jutting out of the earth, or put black obsidian slabs over it, just in case people in the future lost the ability to read the words."

"Ah. Yet another instance wherein having a 'qa would come in handy for you humans."

Elle stuck her tongue out and made a face. "Stop making your way of life sound so superior."

"Only because it is." She turned to smile at me, and I smiled back, even though she couldn't see me. "May we take a break, so I can tell you how beautiful you are?" I watched her flush bright red. It seemed a significant color choice—then I remembered that two-leggeds couldn't control themselves like that.

"Sure," I heard her tell me quietly.

"You are the most beautiful human I have ever seen."

She spun in front of the window, laughing. "And just how many have you seen, sir?"

"Three?" I guessed. "Twenty?" I teased. "Or maybe all of the ones that you have seen prior, in your life, through you in your mind, and yet you are still the most lovely."

Elle's jaw dropped with surprise and she looked away, but then she slowly turned back to face me. "And what about your wife?" she asked, with a curious tone—I knew she wasn't being mean.

"She was the most beautiful kraken. And I fear you will have to let me give her that."

She gave me a sad smile and one of her hands went up to her heart. She'd felt my sorrow over losing Cayoni—surely someone as smart as she was could infer that it came from a great love. "How long were you together? "

"Ten years."

"And was your . . . egg . . . your first?"

I nodded, although she could not see me. "Kraken breeding cycles are very erratic. But I was the most joyous kraken under all of the sea, for a time."

I watched her swallow, and I felt her holding something back. "I don't feel safe having children."

I knew absolutely nothing about how two-leggeds bred. "Is it because you are so small?" I asked.

She gave a short laugh. "No. Remember how you wanted to know why I had scars? That's why. Kind of," she said, and then pushed memories at me. Of her sister with the blue-eyes, and strange buildings with long, cold halls. Metal knives and waking up alone, having lost parts that will not regrow. "I can't put anyone at risk of that. But—don't get me wrong—I do like babies." I felt her heart thrill at the thought of children, before it quieted again. "I just would be scared to have my own."

I could only tell her what I knew to be true. "There is nothing wrong with you, Elle of the Air."

She gave me a rueful grin. "I bet you tell all the ladies that."

"You are the first sentient creature I have touched in three years. There are no others, nor will there be."

I watched her swallow again. "Anyone ever tell you you come on a little strong?"

"Is that good or bad?"

She bit her lower lip for a moment. "Honestly? I like it. It's been awhile since anyone was interested in me. I'm getting a divorce." I had no idea what that meant, so I pressed my confusion forward. "My husband. He...left me. We were married. I mean, that's what we do in the air. It's our version of your mates," she informed me.

"No, it is not."

She pouted. "How do you know?"

"Because if it was, he wouldn't have left you."

We stared at each other in silence, me at her great beauty, and her out at the ineffable darkness I was encased in, until the tablet made a beeping sound behind her.

"Let's see what we got from the ROVs!" she said, quickly changing the subject, and because I sensed she was uncomfortable, I let her.