Danae awoke when the first rays of sunlight hit her window. The sky outside
was muted, darkened with clouds. The air had that smell of anticipation
which made Danae nervous. She knew that smell meant only one thing: rain.
Rain usually didn't pose too much trouble to them; they could hear the
noises and feel it, but unless they were swimming close to the surface or
crossing strong currents it didn't affect them. Though her Mama had
explained to her the purpose of rain, she still felt apprehensive.
Sleep had been rough. The bed she'd been given was so soft and warm even after she'd kicked off all the blankets that she found herself sleeping on the floor. Everything in the room cast strange shadows which made her feel so tiny. Danae missed the sound of her Mama's heartbeat. She missed the sweet sound of her lungs taking in oxygen. With Mama she could always sleep in peace because she'd protect her from any danger.
Danae wished she knew what dangers lurked on Land. In Sea, there were sharks, orcas, and jellyfish. She knew how to evade them, but who was dangerous here? Could a monster be lurking inside that chest? Or under her bed?
Throughout the night, she had strange dreams, all involving her mother. In one of them, she dreamed she was in Erlkönig's forest. She was a child, a chubby toddler of two and the trees were wider than any ship she'd ever seen. It was dark but she could see her mother, dressed in white and standing beside a white horse with a silver horn. Danae ran to catch up with her but her mother smiled, leapt onto the horse, and disappeared.
Danae stretched and yawned; it was time for breakfast. She grabbed huge handfuls of sheets and blanket, piled them on the bed, and tried to make it look as neat as it had when she'd come. Then she headed downstairs.
Danae had trouble finding a place at the breakfast table amidst all those elbows and arms. She slid in between a few of the guards.
Meals were a haphazard affair at the castle. Because they were at war, they couldn't afford luxury items so meals were simple. Nothing was wasted: whatever wasn't eaten at this meal was saved for the next.
There were plates of currant-buns and buttermilk buns fresh from the oven. There were blueberry muffins, still fragrant. To anyone who asked, fruits and vegetables were available. Little slices of ham and sausage were served to everyone. At each plate was a tall glass of fresh milk with cream on top, a little bit of fresh butter and mulberry jelly to smear on whatever you desired.
Danae felt weak as she smelt the food. It had a heavenly, almost holy smell to it. Of course just to be able to sit and eat without worry was an unimaginable luxury. No animal she knew would waste time with small talk during meal time: food was found quick and eaten before any beast caught the scent.
Danae reached across the table and grabbed one of the buns. She studied it carefully trying to figure out what it was made of. Finally she opened her mouth and crammed it in, stuffing it in great wolfish bites.
She reached across the table and grabbed one after another. The bun tasted like a warm thick pillow in her mouth. Danae never thought anything about taste before: most of the time, there was very little to taste under the sea.
The more buns she swallowed, the more a thick lump built in her throat. She could feel her face sting and grow very hot. Her eyes burned as her mind filled with the memory of Mama. Where was she? Was she hurt? Did she have plenty of food?
Danae bolted from the table and went to her room. She grabbed the harp from under her bed and began plucking the tiny strings one by one. The plaintive little sound reminded her of Ashkii. Ashkii was a young male calf, going through what Mama called "the awkward stage." He was determined to prove himself a man to the others yet always seemed to mess up. The elders would always laugh and everyone would click there tongues at little Ashkii. Danae had always felt sorry for him: it isn't easy being small.
Danae tried to see if she could produce the cries of some of her pack brothers and sisters. No matter what she would never forget them. They'd traveled through so many miles of ocean together. Every dolphin had its own unique cry, its special signature, so she could always tell them apart.
Oh Mama, where are you? Danae felt her eyes burn. She buried her face in her pillow. She did not cry though: she couldn't cry. She did not look up when Deirdre walked in.
"Hey." Deirdre said, "That was a nice tune you were playing." Deirdre had no idea why she felt so shy all of a sudden; she'd never been at a loss for words. "I bet it reminds you of home. Do they have music there?"
Do they have music there? Danae had never heard such a silly question. If only she knew what kind of music they had. The clicks and whistles of dolphins, the laughter of seals. Sometimes when they traveled over reefs, Danae could have sworn she heard the waves whistle throw them.
Danae was tempted to dismiss Deirdre as one of those arrogant humans her mother told her about, but something told her not to. After all perhaps the girl was trying to establish common ground. Lekha, one of the elders, once told her, "You can judge a person by their music." So she simply nodded and hoped Deirdre understood.
"I wish I could here your music, Naiya, I really do. You must forgive me if I sound like a terrible clod," said Deirdre. She reached out her hand. "Now come on. Papa suggested I take you with us on patrol so you can see more of Kells."
Danae placed the harp under the bed and took Deirdre's hand. The two girls walked out, hand in hand, somehow managing to say so much to each other without every opening their mouths.
The earth held endless wonders, long forgotten by the Knights. It was soft, yet ripe with potential for new life. Danae found herself entranced by each little plant. Was alive the way the coral and anemones were? Or was it more like algae, gripping itself to whatever surface it found? The plants weren't quite as pretty as the coral but maybe it was pretty in another way. Maybe it was beautiful because of its strength; it didn't have water to shield it from the sun.
The knights did their best to identify all the creatures, but even they weren't a match for her endless curiosity. Many of them had looked at those creatures a thousand times without giving a thought but for Danae, rabbits were brand-new.
"Don't worry. Given the way those beasts reproduce, it won't be long until she has her fill of rabbits," Garrett said.
Danae found the rabbits endlessly fascinating. Their softy glossy coat, whiskers, long ears, and black eyes were something of note. What did they think about? Probably families. Mama said only fish didn't have families.
The horse was kind of frightening. It stood taller than any Land beast she'd seen thus far and the way it snorted at her. It's thick legs looked like it could do serious harm.
The group walked on for a bit, slowly so that Danae could explore, until the clouds finally burst. The group rested under a large maple in front of a large clear pond. Danae raced around the pond, dancing in the rain. She had always wondered what rain felt like to the creatures above her. It felt cool and refreshing; it was like something deep within her was being replenished. She watched as the rain danced on the pond. Little minnows skittered through the cool water, moving whenever the rain hit the pond. Danae waded in the water, not paying any heed to the hem of her skirt. She could have gone stayed in there forever when she saw something on land that caught her attention. It was a log almost thoroughly rotted out. It's insides were so soft and spongy that Danae could scoop them out easily. The wood had a strange smell to it, an unpleasantness, but to Danae it represented the beginning of new life. She scattered handfuls of it in the water. Bright coloured fish dived in and out, grabbing bits to take with them to their sea home.
When Danae finally tired of playing, the Knights escorted her back to the castle. The King didn't complain when they all came in half-soaked. There were far more important things than a soaked skirt.
Danae went to sleep with pleasant visions in her head. In one day she'd seen such beauty. She wished her mother were here. She thought about the friends she made. Cathbad the ancient Druid, King Conchobar the kind monarch, Deirdre his lovely daughter, Rohan the warrior Draganta, Ivar the foreign prince of water, Angus the (former) thief, Garrett the prince of forest, and Aideen the faery. It was all so marvelous, like something from one of her mother's old faery tales. Danae wished she could tell stories as good as her Mama but she could never seem to get one going.
Sleep had been rough. The bed she'd been given was so soft and warm even after she'd kicked off all the blankets that she found herself sleeping on the floor. Everything in the room cast strange shadows which made her feel so tiny. Danae missed the sound of her Mama's heartbeat. She missed the sweet sound of her lungs taking in oxygen. With Mama she could always sleep in peace because she'd protect her from any danger.
Danae wished she knew what dangers lurked on Land. In Sea, there were sharks, orcas, and jellyfish. She knew how to evade them, but who was dangerous here? Could a monster be lurking inside that chest? Or under her bed?
Throughout the night, she had strange dreams, all involving her mother. In one of them, she dreamed she was in Erlkönig's forest. She was a child, a chubby toddler of two and the trees were wider than any ship she'd ever seen. It was dark but she could see her mother, dressed in white and standing beside a white horse with a silver horn. Danae ran to catch up with her but her mother smiled, leapt onto the horse, and disappeared.
Danae stretched and yawned; it was time for breakfast. She grabbed huge handfuls of sheets and blanket, piled them on the bed, and tried to make it look as neat as it had when she'd come. Then she headed downstairs.
Danae had trouble finding a place at the breakfast table amidst all those elbows and arms. She slid in between a few of the guards.
Meals were a haphazard affair at the castle. Because they were at war, they couldn't afford luxury items so meals were simple. Nothing was wasted: whatever wasn't eaten at this meal was saved for the next.
There were plates of currant-buns and buttermilk buns fresh from the oven. There were blueberry muffins, still fragrant. To anyone who asked, fruits and vegetables were available. Little slices of ham and sausage were served to everyone. At each plate was a tall glass of fresh milk with cream on top, a little bit of fresh butter and mulberry jelly to smear on whatever you desired.
Danae felt weak as she smelt the food. It had a heavenly, almost holy smell to it. Of course just to be able to sit and eat without worry was an unimaginable luxury. No animal she knew would waste time with small talk during meal time: food was found quick and eaten before any beast caught the scent.
Danae reached across the table and grabbed one of the buns. She studied it carefully trying to figure out what it was made of. Finally she opened her mouth and crammed it in, stuffing it in great wolfish bites.
She reached across the table and grabbed one after another. The bun tasted like a warm thick pillow in her mouth. Danae never thought anything about taste before: most of the time, there was very little to taste under the sea.
The more buns she swallowed, the more a thick lump built in her throat. She could feel her face sting and grow very hot. Her eyes burned as her mind filled with the memory of Mama. Where was she? Was she hurt? Did she have plenty of food?
Danae bolted from the table and went to her room. She grabbed the harp from under her bed and began plucking the tiny strings one by one. The plaintive little sound reminded her of Ashkii. Ashkii was a young male calf, going through what Mama called "the awkward stage." He was determined to prove himself a man to the others yet always seemed to mess up. The elders would always laugh and everyone would click there tongues at little Ashkii. Danae had always felt sorry for him: it isn't easy being small.
Danae tried to see if she could produce the cries of some of her pack brothers and sisters. No matter what she would never forget them. They'd traveled through so many miles of ocean together. Every dolphin had its own unique cry, its special signature, so she could always tell them apart.
Oh Mama, where are you? Danae felt her eyes burn. She buried her face in her pillow. She did not cry though: she couldn't cry. She did not look up when Deirdre walked in.
"Hey." Deirdre said, "That was a nice tune you were playing." Deirdre had no idea why she felt so shy all of a sudden; she'd never been at a loss for words. "I bet it reminds you of home. Do they have music there?"
Do they have music there? Danae had never heard such a silly question. If only she knew what kind of music they had. The clicks and whistles of dolphins, the laughter of seals. Sometimes when they traveled over reefs, Danae could have sworn she heard the waves whistle throw them.
Danae was tempted to dismiss Deirdre as one of those arrogant humans her mother told her about, but something told her not to. After all perhaps the girl was trying to establish common ground. Lekha, one of the elders, once told her, "You can judge a person by their music." So she simply nodded and hoped Deirdre understood.
"I wish I could here your music, Naiya, I really do. You must forgive me if I sound like a terrible clod," said Deirdre. She reached out her hand. "Now come on. Papa suggested I take you with us on patrol so you can see more of Kells."
Danae placed the harp under the bed and took Deirdre's hand. The two girls walked out, hand in hand, somehow managing to say so much to each other without every opening their mouths.
The earth held endless wonders, long forgotten by the Knights. It was soft, yet ripe with potential for new life. Danae found herself entranced by each little plant. Was alive the way the coral and anemones were? Or was it more like algae, gripping itself to whatever surface it found? The plants weren't quite as pretty as the coral but maybe it was pretty in another way. Maybe it was beautiful because of its strength; it didn't have water to shield it from the sun.
The knights did their best to identify all the creatures, but even they weren't a match for her endless curiosity. Many of them had looked at those creatures a thousand times without giving a thought but for Danae, rabbits were brand-new.
"Don't worry. Given the way those beasts reproduce, it won't be long until she has her fill of rabbits," Garrett said.
Danae found the rabbits endlessly fascinating. Their softy glossy coat, whiskers, long ears, and black eyes were something of note. What did they think about? Probably families. Mama said only fish didn't have families.
The horse was kind of frightening. It stood taller than any Land beast she'd seen thus far and the way it snorted at her. It's thick legs looked like it could do serious harm.
The group walked on for a bit, slowly so that Danae could explore, until the clouds finally burst. The group rested under a large maple in front of a large clear pond. Danae raced around the pond, dancing in the rain. She had always wondered what rain felt like to the creatures above her. It felt cool and refreshing; it was like something deep within her was being replenished. She watched as the rain danced on the pond. Little minnows skittered through the cool water, moving whenever the rain hit the pond. Danae waded in the water, not paying any heed to the hem of her skirt. She could have gone stayed in there forever when she saw something on land that caught her attention. It was a log almost thoroughly rotted out. It's insides were so soft and spongy that Danae could scoop them out easily. The wood had a strange smell to it, an unpleasantness, but to Danae it represented the beginning of new life. She scattered handfuls of it in the water. Bright coloured fish dived in and out, grabbing bits to take with them to their sea home.
When Danae finally tired of playing, the Knights escorted her back to the castle. The King didn't complain when they all came in half-soaked. There were far more important things than a soaked skirt.
Danae went to sleep with pleasant visions in her head. In one day she'd seen such beauty. She wished her mother were here. She thought about the friends she made. Cathbad the ancient Druid, King Conchobar the kind monarch, Deirdre his lovely daughter, Rohan the warrior Draganta, Ivar the foreign prince of water, Angus the (former) thief, Garrett the prince of forest, and Aideen the faery. It was all so marvelous, like something from one of her mother's old faery tales. Danae wished she could tell stories as good as her Mama but she could never seem to get one going.