Kara Moon 🏴‍☠️💜⚓️

@karamoonauthor.com

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Kara Moon (she/her/they/them) Totally not the R18+ pseudonym of @hiriadunning.com I swear! Queer and indigenous author and poet from Aotearoa NZ Member of @hookandquillpress.com www.karamoonauthor.com

The place was as much a wonder at age forty as it had been at age four, when her mother had taken her in to retrieve a letter from her father. It was magic then, to hold her father's writing in her hands while he was an ocean away; and it was magic again still, and ever would be, when one really thought about the distances involved. Of course, Seraphinople's post office was much grander, with a marble facade. This much humbler wooden building was nevertheless protected and operated by many of the same enchantments as every other outpost of the Circle Sea Postal Service. 
The sea below the white stone footbridge was subdued by the lightest of wintery drizzles. Kallista stood out, leaning on the railings, not minding the tiny kisses of water on her bare face. She always got like this, before leaving on a voyage: mildly pre-nostalgic for dry land, as if she would miss it while she was gone. It didn't matter that she wouldn't; it was just how she got. A passing mood, but Kallista liked to indulge in it, to fall in hopeless love with her city for a short spell before being swept away again by the enduring romance of the open sea.
"No, Captain," Melissa insisted. "I didn't think about our location, and Doctor Philistos didn't either." "Good. Nevertheless, we'll set off as soon as we have everyone back on board. What does Heliodorus know?" Geni breathed out, then looked up at Melissa. The lieutenant was, of course, opening the floor to her, as much as she didn't want it. "He asked the sender to pry into my mind to find out what it would cost for me to betray you." Her voice sounded flat to her, despite the hollowness in her chest which should have made all sound echo in desolation. She look up at Kallista, expecting anger, but found only patience. "And the answer he found?" "My children, of course."
"So her job is all right?" "Yes." "How'd she get it all to stop?" "It was a sort of divine intervention I suppose—or arcane, more appropriately. Apparently, Nairu weighed in on the whole affair, with the Ambassador from there saying that the bigwigs in Neopolis needed to stop attacking academics. And as much as Neopolis are a bunch of nationalistic blowhards, even they don't want to piss the mages off. So they pivoted to attacking performers instead, of all things. Not formal music, so much, but other popular forms of entertainment. Calling it lascivious and all that. Anyway, as awful as all that is, it's got them off Tiff's back, so we're happy again."
The tiny cloud crackled with a burst of light, and the whole thing dissipated in a tiny shower of rain in a few seconds. "Magery?" "Āe." "The mages never found out about you?" "What mages?" Iona huffed in disbelief. Saints, she really was completely sheltered. "Every mage around the Circle Sea gets brought to Nairu for training in their later teens. Forcibly, if necessary. But you've escaped their notice ..." "Who would tell them? Certainly not my mother."
Map of Northern Iunia and the Iunian Archipelago. Various islands spread around, with mainland Iunia in the southwest corner. Border illustrations include a parrot, a tropical flower, a nereid with a harp, a sphinx, a harpy, a cherub, a hippocampus, an albatross, a satyr, a dryad, a sperm whale, and a mermaid. Style is inspired by tapa cloth and ancient Greek art.
When she was far enough down the dock that the smoke cleared, she glanced back and caught a glimpse of the chain of bodies leading from the agora. The sailors were right on the backs of the last villagers, cutting them down. She turned without a second thought, cutlass drawn to help, when Iona emerged from the smoke and grabbed her by the arm. "Ah-ah. No way, Cap." "We have to—" "We'll save as many as we can. The ship won't fit them all."
Despite the presence of Cerelia, right there, Iona snatched up Daphne's hand and kissed it. "Dragons watch over you also, Daphne of Antea." The half-dryad's cheeks coloured bright enough to be seen through her dark complexion, and Iona let go of her hand before she lost her suaveness in a show of earnestness. Better to leave the girl with the strikingly charming image than dither and bemoan their parting. That was Kallista's lack of swag, not hers.
"Let me save him," Geni said back, her voice quiet but angry, the words delivered through gritted teeth. "He's so young, he doesn't deserve this." Before Kallista could answer, Geni was back on her knees and muttering a prayer over the lad. Kallista was torn. Half of her wanted to haul the damned woman up with both hands and launch her bodily through the portcullis. But another part wanted to let her have this. After the awful impression she had made during the last naval battle; after Geni's words had cut her to the quick, bringing back all the old guilt about fighting and killing her own ex-colleagues; after the doctor's plea for mercy; even now, the boy's face still in Kallista's mind as she avoided looking down; and, ever-present, the spectre of her father's disapproval; she just wanted to let Geni save this one stupid kid, who'd surely gone into this line of work for the job security, rather than the inherent cruelty ... not that she could tell that for sure, and perhaps a soft heart would be the death of her if she let it ... "Stop right there!" shouted a voice. The guard arriving at the final corner planted his feet, aimed his crossbow, and the bolt hit Kallista in the arm.
Not five minutes later, the band struck up a new song, with a powerful bass voice added to the milieu. Ah, so that was a cello. Geni's music professor father would despair of her lack of knowledge if he knew, and most likely, would see right through her sudden interest. She gazed across the dancers and the pools of torchlight, letting her eyes rest on Kallista and the large stringed instrument. The captain's head swayed as she was wrapped up in the music, eyes closed. The cello in comparison stayed still, held between her legs, played with both hands. Geni shuddered and blushed at the sudden rush of desire—but damn, no matter how silly the thought made her feel: she wished she was in that cello's place.
No matter how much she might agree; no matter how much her lips twitched up in a treacherous smirk; no matter how the heat of the uphill climb through island jungle and her best friend's ridiculous lovelorn behaviour were driving her mad; duty dictated that Iona absolutely could not let the new recruit Ophelia get away with saying, "Saints Above! The Captain and the Doctor should just bone already!"
Daphne's glances were unpracticed and unabashed. Thrilling all right, but intense. Almost scary in their intensity. Iona didn't muck around with pretending she didn't notice these things.   Unlike some people who were constantly flirting at each other and pretending like they were oblivious. Fucking mainlanders
"Tell me, Talos, is it true that you marry your first cousins over in Apion?" "Hey!" the teen boy stopped hacking away at the path in front of them and glowered back at her. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he hadn't tired all this time at his job clearing jungle undergrowth with his machete. Probably wanted all the chances he could get to show off his muscles which seemed to be growing daily at the moment. Good for him. Iona got to watch the journey his face took: his agitation bolstered by the redness of his cheeks from the effort; then a moment of panic about having yelled at a senior officer; and finally the moment when he clocked the smirk on her face and figured out that it was open season on ribbing each other. "I dunno, First Mate, but is it true what I've heard about you lot from Suphaia and what you get up to with sea cucumbers?"
"Captain!" came someone's alarmed shout, followed by more shouts, and fingers pointing down and to the side. One of the ropes lifting the tender had been severed by a very lucky spear. It twisted out every coil as it unraveled in the space of a breath. The tender lurched to the side with the extra give. Kallista grabbed Geni around the waist and dove to cling onto the bench seat as the rope finally snapped and gravity took the boat by its end. The seat went from under them to suddenly parallel with them, the hull of the boat cocooning them as it swung against the side of the Paxos. The prow pointed down to the sea which smacked against the ship like a slavering dog expecting its dinner.
Daphne sighed, rocking her head onto one hand. "You must forgive my mother. She's deeply suspicious of humans. She was betrayed by one she held dear once. She believes all humans are fickle and deceitful." Saints, her voice was practically laced with flirtation. Iona couldn't resist the bait. She moved closer and murmured, "Does she count you as fickle and deceitful?" Daphne shiffled closer, as if knowingly affording Iona a glance down at her ample cleavage. "I am half-dryad. She thinks my better half will win out." She dipped her head, and looked up at Iona through her lashes. Damn it, did she have any idea how cute that was? "What about you, First Mate? Are you fickle and deceitful?"
Drinks arrived, and the three from the Paxos sat down to wait. Kallista found herself staring out a window that showed a path on a hill rising out behind the town. As if she'd known it would happen, Geni and her escort passed by on that same path. Kallista remained looking out that window as she drank and waited, even though the chances of catching sight of Geni again were slim.
Geni's first patient was already in the sick bay. She set aside her qualms and embraced the chance to do what she did best. "Good morning...?" "Hermia." "Hermia." Geni smiled, confident that she was holding back the spark of recognition from her face. This was the helmswoman, the one who'd been lip-locked with a Didaean woman when Geni had first come onboard. Hermia knew exactly who Geni was and why she'd gotten stuck here. Geni cleared her throat. "What seems to be the issue?"
Kallista pushed her way to the front of the crowd to meet Iona. "What do I need to know?" she asked, eyes flicking over Daphne in quick assessment. "This half-dryad here, Daphne, wants to join our cause. Her mother doesn't want her to." Kallista's eyes narrowed in a 'we'll-talk-about-this-later' way, then to Daphne and back to Iona with a distinct 'she'd-better-be-worth-it' quirk of her eyebrow. But that was all: Kallista was on Iona's side as a matter of course, pushing past her to head the human assemblage against the coming angry flora.
Poor Adara meanwhile, the sole mainlander on the squad going up to the summit of Antea, had a nervous edge to her laughter. "Don't mind us," Iona muttered. "Just some Islander humour." "Aye, mate," she chirped. That seemed to be the end of it, for now. You'd think that more than a year on the same ship with a bunch of Islanders would have loosened her up a bit. Then again, Iona had been working on Kallista for a decade now, and there was no winning there. And that was even with the Captain's strain of Island heritage. No resounding defeat of her formality, just a constant maintenance of the shared humour and riding the line of insubordination, like keeping a garden of thorned roses.  Didn't they get tired of such high standards all the time?
"May I help you?" The query came from under the shade of large wooden double doors. A tall woman emerged in a cream and green habit, a boxy headdress covering all but the frontmost part of her mahogany hairline. Her tan skin was flawless, practically luminous in its clarity, but there was a heaviness to her eyelids and jaw which suggested she was older than she looked. Kallista tried to wipe any wryness out of her smile. Islander women had all the luck when it came to aging. Even if such a beauty came from a dark past. Sadly for her, such agelessness didn't seem to extend its kind hand to quarter-Islanders.
The sun was well set by the time they made their way downhill from the ridge dividing the two parts of the town. This side of the settlement was filled with fishermen's shacks mostly, though the monotony of that was broken by a night market they had to wade through near the top of the hill. The sizzle and savoury smell of whitebait fritters cooking on a stall blended with the gamey scent of muttonbird crackling on a rotisserie at the next.
"The patterns on them ..." "What about them?" The lighter brown of the fabric was dyed with darker brown squares of floral and geometric patterns. Kallista took the sight of them for granted, after years of sailing the Isles. Each island had its signature style. She probably knew them well enough that she could tell their island of origin without thinking too hard. "They look like the mosaic patterns in some of the oldest cathedrals back home," Geni observed. "Hmm!" She was right. "Well. Yet another sign of the resourcefulness of the Isles, as well as another proof of our shared lineage between the Archipelago and the mainland." "I never took you for an art historian." Geni's eyes sparkled with good humour. Kallista opened her mouth, scrambling for something to say so that Geni would keep looking at her like that. But just then, a voice cut clear across the courtyard.
"You're old enough to leave, surely?" "Ha. Try telling that to my mother." The words were on the tip of Iona's tongue. But no, that would be stupid. She was trying to win the dryads over, not piss them off by absconding with their mortal daughter. And there, in Daphne's wide, pleading eyes, the question lingered too. It would be a terrible, awful idea.
"We have a few questions, if you don't mind." Geni resisted the urge to turn them away, and waved at the empty bench seat across from her. The three locals sidled in, and then a fourth person turned up at the table. "Hi Doc, is everything all right?" It was Hermia. "It is, thank you Helmswoman." Hermia's smile was curt, a hint of scepticism in her eye. "I'll sit with you, if that's fine?" "Of course, sit." Hermia slipped in beside Geni, and ate with her eyes downcast. The three across only had eyes for Geni anyway, but she was glad for her crewmate's show of protectiveness. Even if she had let Kallista and the crew down on Chamioch, it would seem that they weren't about to let her down, on the off-chance that danger was headed her way.
Geni huffed. "Thank you, Captain. I just hope they listen to me." "If they don't, tell them I'll come down on them like the proverbial butt of the fishing rod." She even mimed that, as if stunning a fish with the round end of said tool. Her hands scarpered behind her back again, fingers enmeshing in her embarrassment. "I hardly need the threat of physical violence for my patients." She caught Kallista on the back foot. "It ... was ... a figure of speech?"
"So do me a favour, and live a bit, Sister. You deserve it. Besides, it's far safer for you to meet with our list of contacts out of your habit. And you never know, you might find a good time out there amongst the Islanders." Geni let out a heavy breath, and smiled. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea. If the opportunity arose, maybe she would indulge. Grinning back at Adelpha, she asked, "Did you?" "Oh ho ho, very much so ..." The smirk on Adelpha's lips died slowly. "But that was a long time ago, in times so different that it might as well have been another world entirely." She reached for Geni's hands and clasped them. "We shouldn't delay much longer with this pleasant chit chat. Forgive me, I just know I'll miss your friendship when you're gone."
Geni hadn't realised she was chuckling to herself. Ridiculous, how drunk she'd gotten again. This was not allowed to be a pattern. She couldn't keep jumping into bed with women she'd just met while intoxicated. Was that where this was going? The way Lysandra's body pressed up against hers as they danced, Geni was certain she was receiving the message. It would be a relief to just go in that direction, not fight it, just let it happen instead of constantly imagining, as she had ever since Iona had told her about the party: Kallista arriving back from the lagoon, triumphant and in good cheer—they could find themselves at the same table, share a drink—Geni could apologise to her for her false assumptions and her smouldering, underserved bitterness—more drinks, more confessions, and one thing could lead to another— Saints! Here was this beauty in her arms and all she could think about even now was Kallista bloody Audax.
"There's still one there," Geni whispered. Kallista nodded, giving her a look as if to ask, 'So what?' "Will you let me knock him out for you instead of hurting him?" Kallista let herself roll her eyes this time. Had her oh-so-righteous doctor forgotten the part where these guards were also torturers? "More importantly, if you do that, will you have the energy to heal the mages enough for them to walk?" "I will," Geni answered earnestly. Kallista sighed and shrugged. "Go on then."
Text is surrounded by border of small squares with art done in dark brown and white. Figures depicted include: a mythical parrot, a white flower, a nereid, a sphinx, a harpy, a cherub, a sparm whale, a cat on a ship's deck, a mermaid, a dragon flying over islands, a hippocampus, a seagull, a satyr, a dryad Text in the centre: "There," Daphne murmured, pointing to the centre deep within, where from the deepest purple sprang half-open cylindrical prongs which glistened with golden dew. Prongs—surely they weren't called prongs. For once in her life, Iona lamented her lack of botanical knowledge. Maybe Daphne here could teach her a thing or two. The scent grew stronger as she dipped her face closer to the flower, a warm spice that spoke of rainy seasons and steamy nights. She lowered her tongue to the sticky juice within, and locked eyes with Daphne as she did. from The First Mate and the Dryad’s Daughter by Kara Moon
Geni received the cloth bag of cherries with surprise, nearly fumbling the bag entirely. "Oh? What is this?" She opened the bag, and Kallista allowed herself to glance for perhaps too long, to see the colour rise on Geni's cheek. "Cherries?" "I remember you said they were your favourite." The blush on Geni's face deepened. Her gaze flicked to Kallista then away again. "Thank you." Too late, Kallista remembered the context in which she'd learnt that little fact. Now her own cheeks were heating up. Geni popped a cherry in her mouth, and Kallista had to look away. Had it been completely inappropriate to buy Geni any gift at all, let alone this specific gift? What if Geni thought it was a proposition? But she couldn't exactly take it back now, could she? Geni made the tiniest sound of pleasure—not quite a moan, but enough that Kallista had to think very carefully about walking for a moment. "Oh, they are perfectly ripe. Would you like one?"
The Paxos moved closer, just off the coast. If she didn't go now, she'd be stranded. Her ship, Saints knows where, her crew without her guidance, little as it might be. They'd be fine without her. Would she? With a whinge, she closed her eyes and jumped. Even with her hands parting it in a thin slice, the water hit her like slamming into a wall. Surrounded by ocean, she stared into darkness, every muscle in her body protesting. Which way was up? She whipped her pounding head around, and found light. How was it so far away? Her father would have despaired of her lack of skill. What happened to all he taught her as a child?
Iona frowned and threw her head back, hands over her eyes. "Ugh, why did we let those mages go? They could have been amazing allies." "But they wouldn't have been allies, if we'd held onto them." Iona sighed. "No, you're right. But even within the Isles, a wealth of kaitiaki await us. Nereids here ... oh, there are dryads on Antea ... taniwha can be found everywhere ... just imagine, if we could find some of the really big names, like the people of the Sunken Isle, or the Charybdis, or ... Saints, the possibilities are endless." "If those last couple even exist, Iona," Kallista chided. She buried her forehead in one hand and rubbed it. So like Iona to get carried away. For all that there was genuine magic in these Isles, so too were there great mythological exaggerations. "But yes, I am thinking along those lines. I'm almost ashamed the Navy thought of it first, to be honest." "They didn't," Iona insisted. "You're talking diplomacy. And they only know subjugation."
"Their captain has some business elsewhere on the island, I understand, so the ship is just sitting here, completely ripe for the taking. The crew are all on shore mostly, helping reconstruct the buildings damaged in the riot. Honestly, if any of the fleet can make it here today, the timing will be perfect." Geni clutched at her pendant of Saint Seraphina, eyes welling. Divine intervention indeed. There was no question in her mind: the Saint had meant her to be right here, right now, overhearing this conversation so that the Paxos and all who crewed her could stay free.
Within a few minutes, the tree cover lightened. The sea was ahead in glimpses and whispers, the glitter of deep blue-green waves the most welcome sight Kallista had seen this side of sunrise. She crested the next hillock, then ran down, smiling even as she stumbled on a tree root, nearly crashing down on all four limbs. Scrambling to her feet, her right ankle screamed out for attention. She had none to give it. The Paxos—she was right there!—and behind her came a veritable dreadnought of a battleship coming full speed into the harbour of Psistos. 
And Kallista had tried to tell her as much, hadn't she? We're all each other has. Had Geni missed all the clues in her readiness to be angry? To find something, anything, wrong with Kallista, because if nothing was wrong with her then that meant there had to be something wrong with Geni herself—which of course was very true, because for all her so-called professionalism, here she was agonising over the woman who'd made her position on relations very clear. Maybe that was it. Blinded by pride after being spurned. That would make everything else settle into place.
Myron, like so many men in her experience, just needed his ego stroked, or threatened. "Myron, I appreciate your concern, but if you were to go complaining now, with only a couple of hours before the ship departs, I fear that you would look silly in front of your superiors." "Hmm. Yes, I suppose you're right." The flash of panic in his eyes was victory, but she restrained any outward glee.
Simeon placed both hands on his holy symbol and sighed in an exaggerated manner, as if Geni were a child testing his patience. "Very well. You leave me no choice. I shall cast the rebuke of Saint Seraphina upon you. Then the townsfolk will see that mine is the side of righteousness." Geni shook her head, then moved away from Kallista and the rest of the crew, her face calm, disappointed even. Certainly, not a smidgeon cowed by the man's words. "To use the Saint to prove a point is utterly tasteless ... however, since you insist ..." She held her hands to the pendant on her neck and closed her eyes. Kallista swallowed and ushered those near her away and back. Perhaps it was her own lovelorn delusion, but Geni looked as sedate as a statue of a saint. It was an odd notion, but it was true: Kallista had absolute faith that Saint Seraphina would have Geni's back.
One thing of note stood out in a later paragraph: 'Mother, you're ever so silly, trying to get in touch with my brother. You should know about the prohibition on CSPS employees sending or receiving letters personally from criminals. It's been this way for years now. The CSPS will take letters for any and all persons, regardless of legal status, but the employees themselves cannot be seen to be aiding and abetting criminals personally. Not even ones they are related to.' Of course. The air rushed out of Geni in a deflating sigh. She stared at the envelope, following the lines of her son's illustrations. This was the only way he could think of to let her know he was all right. He might have already been breaking rules to do it: he would probably have to use the mail book somehow to pull out his sister's letters into the mail room on whichever ship he was on, then after he was done drawing, put the mail back into the system so it arrived for Geni on the other side. Hopefully this wouldn't get him in trouble with anyone. 
Kallista hoped the glare she shot Iona conveyed the full weight of her betrayal. Iona shrugged, smirking. "So, you're both set against me, then? I thought you were my first mate, not hers." "It doesn't matter whether I'm a naval captain's first officer, or a pirate queen's first mate, I consider my primary duty to be calling you on your whaleshit." Behind the curtain of her red hair, Geni snorted. Her hand came up to muffle her laughter. Oh well, the two of them couldn't be too at odds after all, if this was anything to go by. "Not you too, with this Pirate Queen nonsense," Kallista growled at Iona.  "That's right, Your Maj."
"May I escort the doctor closer, Captain?" Talos offered. For one spiralling second, Kallista couldn't see a way to refuse him without it looking weird to the others. Of course she should let him. But then this would be the end,  rather than having a private audience, halfway down the hill, in the narrow paths between the houses but well before the marketplace, where she might be recognised— —no! It didn't matter how strange it looked. She wanted to spend these last few minutes alone with Geni, reputation be damned. She chucked her jacket at Talos. "You take care of that, sailor. And relax: you've been swinging that blade arm of yours a long time now, you deserve a rest. I'll escort the doctor myself."
"And that's why the Islanders have a pretty good cause, if you ask me, to maintain independence from the mainland; because we certainly didn't help them out of the fix they were in. It was the Saints, long after death, who did that." Geni rolled her eyes. "So, Iunia sweeping in to save the day in the Emancipation War, that was state propaganda. Of course it was. I don't know why I didn't realise that already." Kallista clapped Geni on the shoulder, then snatched her hand away, guilty of stealing what little contact she had. "We all come to the truth in time. Or at least, ideally we do." She waved a hand up at the statues, trying to keep the conversation going to hide her growing nerves. "So that's why you'll see the Saints in equal prominence throughout the Isles. Though don't ask me why Seraphina's surrounded by cats."
Two things happened in quick succession. First, as she swung away from the ship, Kallista called from the other end, "Are we good to go, Iona?" And Iona responded, "Passenger's just leaving now!" Second, as the rope swung her out to its apex, and Geni prepared to slip down, clinging to her satchel, she happened to look down the length of the dock towards the town. Captain Polemion himself was leading the charging group of naval sailors headed for the Paxos, and he locked eyes with her. In that moment, she knew he had recognised her, and there was no way she could show up to the Spetses without some plausible excuse. 
Those words, that resistance to her: he had learned that. It couldn't be in his heart already, could it? If it was, that was the sort of hatred that dug its roots deep, and she didn't know how to pull it out. And it had to be weeded, from that young man, from her hometown, from all of Iunia.
A post-reply chain. The first entry, by Kara Moon, reads: All right, I feel like playing a bit of bot account whack-a-mole, #BookSky, let's go... *whispers*: "beta reader" The first reply, by Mike Struan, reads: I'm super confused. I posted something about wanting beta readers half an hour ago and so far, no bots! The reply to his reply by Knightly Reads: That’s a rare win for your inbox Anyways are you still in need of a beta reader?
Geni felt the need to tread carefully here. "I don't believe in there being 'better people' than other people, as such ..." What a ridiculous lie that was, but it was an ideal she tried to uphold nevertheless, so it was what she offered in the moment. "And I have no doubt that your Pater has done some good for your community. That is, after all, what we are trained to do: to serve. But in this matter, I believe, the Saint considers he is wrong to stop Captain Audax and the crew of the Paxos from helping the people of Sistea. Now, whether that means that the Saint also supports our wider cause, I couldn't possibly say. I can only hope so."
Kallista's feet took her fast back to the ship to collect the mail sack, then even faster towards the place they remembered from her earlier days, when she was much lower down the ranks than she was now—or would have been, because, as her wanted poster on a wall reminded her, technically she was no longer a naval captain. The thought nearly stopped her in her tracks, and yet something else kept her going; two of Pater Simeon's congregation were loitering nearby. They stared at her, their glares defiant. She set her face to match the scowl on the poster, and drummed her fingers against the hilt of her blade. That made them hurry along, avoiding her gaze. Pathetic—though in truth, she felt vaguely pathetic for even stooping to such posturing, just to project strength out into the world like that.
The hatch opened under Kallista's hand, and it took all her mettle not to jump visibly as Geni emerged. The doctor jumped a little herself, and attempted a weak smile which didn't meet her eyes. Today she wore a burgundy silk skirt that hugged high on her waist, and a simple white blouse, proving that once again, everything looked good on her (yes, even that damned tent of a nun's habit, strange as that was). It was hardly fair, how she made the air in Kallista's lungs feel so much thinner when she was present.
Iona tilted her head again, and stood back to get a better look at Geni's face. "You really do look like you need to sleep for a week. Is this a side effect of your magic?" The words were out of Geni's tired mouth before she could stop them. "Don't tell Kallista." She regretted them as soon as they were spoken, because Iona straightened up, and hooted her disbelief. "Hoo boy. Believe me, I won't be telling her this one. The last thing she needs to know is how stupidly similar you are, pushing yourselves to ridiculous lengths and then trying to tough it out." It had never before occurred to Geni how true that was. Now why, she queried most agitatedly, did the comparison make some part of her feel ill, while another mystery part lit up as if kissed by a sudden sunbeam?
She really had gone too far before. For all that she disagreed with Kallista's methods, the Polis was something far more powerful and wicked. The Navy was a tool they used to oppress those they wished to subjugate. Who was Geni to judge Captain Audax? She had the luxury of her necessary, highly-skilled profession rendering her too precious to deploy into battle, perhaps even too precious for the Polis to dispose of if they managed to take her into custody. Meanwhile Kallista had to manage a crew who were betrayed by the government which should have protected them; she had to send them out against their own former colleagues in potentially deadly combat; she did her own share of the nasty work of ensuring their survival; and for all this, she earned a hefty price on her head and the label of 'traitor'. She hardly needed Geni looking down her nose at her to top all that off.
Geni put her spoon and bread down, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "He's wrong, of course. You know this. You know the Saints loved each other: Seraphina and Joelle, Taem and Darraigh, Kaeo and Adrianna. Whole groups of people take the name for the ways they love from these Saints. Tell me you know this." "We did," the woman with violet eyes said, those same eyes now flashing with anger. Her words grew clipped, teeth bared. "He told us those were bastardizations of the truth, forged into twisted guise during the Occupation by us Islanders. Adopting the lasciviousness of the Pora into our own canon, he said. I knew he was lying. Or rather, I hoped."
The Smudge the Cat meme template, or: In panel one, a blonde woman points and yells to the right, while a brunette woman looks in the same direction. In panel two, a white cat sits smugly before a plate of salad. The implication is that the cat is being yelled at.
Would the diagnosis even work, with the distraction of Kallista's skin just under her fingers? Geni restrained a sigh and kept humming. The thought, the situation, all of it was ridiculous. She had touched how many people today? And yet this one person flooded her awareness in a way no one else did: the warmth of her, dangerously alive, like dallying too close to a candle's flame; the subtle rhythms of breath that no straight posture could entirely restrain, hidden while apart but so obvious while touching; the ends of her short hair brushing against Geni's hand, teasing her with a flash of remembrance, of burying her hands in Kallista's hair as she kissed her way down past Geni's navel. Geni's eyes shot open, the hymn abruptly ending. She cleared her throat, and snatched her hand back to her side, focussing on the prayer roll and nothing else.
Geni met the elderly nun in the covered walkway between gardens, just a part of the crowd leaving the refectory after the morning meal. It was hardly unusual that they walked together. They were colleagues in the free clinic. Even if that weren't the case, they were known to be friends, having both had secular lives before their dedications. They were of course known to be joellians, which under this new regime was frowned upon, but so too was it known that they weren't 'practicing' as it were, and they had never been lovers. Perhaps the only unusual thing today was that, instead of their usual calm stride to the public part of the complex to serve their patients, Geni and Adelpha made their brisk way back towards the cells. Geni's neck strained with the temptation to turn and look around at every corner, but such a movement would only make them look more suspicious. She gave into the idea that if she was caught, then it could never have been helped. It would have been destiny.
"Ugh, why did we let those mages go? They could have been amazing allies." "But they wouldn't have been allies, if we'd held onto them." Iona sighed. "No, you're right. But even within the Isles, a wealth of kaitiaki await us. Nereids here ... oh, there are dryads on Antea ... taniwha can be found everywhere ... just imagine, if we could find some of the really big names, like the people of the Sunken Isle, or the Charybdis, or ... Saints, the possibilities are endless." "If those last couple even exist, Iona," Kallista chided.
Iona leaned over and punched Kallista lightly on the upper arm. "Cuz! Why didn't you say anything?" "Pardon?" "Ah, stop being so formal with me. You're my cousin. You're an Islander. Relax!" Kallista shifted, trying to smile but only coming up with a frown. "I'm only a quarter. And I've never stepped foot on Pheranassus. Never even met someone from there besides my Kuia —" "Kuia! See, look! We have the same word for grandmother on Erapetra. Told you, we're cousins."
A knock on her door. “Hello, Doctor?” came Madelia’s voice through the sturdy wood. “I’ve just come to serve your patients some dinner. Are they allowed a little tipple with their food?” Geni peeked out the door at the cook’s cheerfully red face. “Just a little one, please Madelia. Too much alcohol can interfere with the healing process.” “Of course, Doctor, of course. Saints alive, you look delicious in that dress Doc, if you don’t mind me saying so.” She cackled and nudged Geni through the gap. “First Mate saw me coming in and she told me to make sure you’re coming to the party.” Geni stopped herself before begging off to change clothes. It would be too awkward now, to tell Madelia she was changing out of such a ‘delicious’ dress. “Just let me brush my hair quickly, then I’ll be with you.” While Madelia served small glasses of rum to the patients, Geni hurriedly brushed through her hair, trying to avoid her own eyes in the mirror.
The tender was almost onboard the Paxos when an unusual animal cry drew Kallista's eyes to the mouth of the cove. She stood to get a better view, but no matter how long she looked, the sight barely made sense.  "Riders!" she yelled out. "Riders on—" it was impossible, but it was what she was seeing "—hippocampi!" They'd done it. The elite naval forces had managed to recruit the elusive horses of the sea and train them to take riders. It had been the subject of rumour, too extreme to be believe. But the proof was right in front of her, heading fast for the Paxos. Scaled equine heads gave way to piscine fins and tails. Where they should have had manes, they had webbed structures held up by spines, which also secured the saddlery. Humans rode on those high saddles, spears at the ready— —one of which was flying for the tender.
A woman in a red dress with auburn hair blushes and looks very pleased as another woman with short light brown hair receives the gift of a fine blue coat. They sit on a bench which combines Greek and Polynesian design elements. Behind them, there is a thematic collage of a sailing ship, a compass, and a pink serpentine dragon. Art by Nush Deco
Text is surrounded by border of small squares with art done in dark brown and white. Figures depicted include: a mythical parrot, a white flower, a nereid, a sphinx, a harpy, a cherub, a sperm whale, a cat on a ship's deck, a mermaid, a dragon flying over islands, a hippocampus, a seagull, a satyr, a dryad "They underestimate us, don't they?" Iona glanced at the crowd around them, but parried the strike Kallista tried to make as if it were nothing. "Well, if you ever need a sparring partner in future, I'd be honoured." "You talk about honour, with no shoes on?" Iona cackled, and dodged Kallista's thrust just in time. "Tell you what, the day you best me in combat, Commander, is the day you get to tell me to wear shoes while I fight." a snippet from Before Queens and Saints by Kara Moon
Geni wasn't moving away, and Kallista didn't know what to make of that. After a few stretched seconds, it dawned on her: Geni was probably waiting to be dismissed. "Oh, Doctor, I was coming to see you, in fact." "You were?" Geni's eyes flicked up, only to fall back to the deck again before Kallista could even think to school her face. Was her expression one of polite professionalism? Benign command? Hopefully it wasn't fawning, or conversely, closed off defensively due to the storm of confusion Eugenia Philistos always seemed to kick off inside her. "There's been some sort of strife on the island. Stand ready to render medical assistance." Geni nodded quickly. "Yes, Captain."