Deep Secrets

Isla, upon consultation with Wade, decides to pass on a visit to Rebma. Instead she agrees to look after Coral's house for her.

Once all the farewells are said, Merlin makes the call to Llewella, passing Celina through first to speak to their aunt.

After a momentary pause to let Celina and Llewella exchange a few words, Merlin passes Delta through.

Celina comes through to Llewella and (if they are alone) she hugs her Aunt in the Rebma style that involves less torso more shoulders. "I am welcoming back to Rebma the descendants of Moins. Coral and Delta. Isla is not joining us this visit. I hope this pleases you as much as it does me."

Llewella blinks but nods her assent.

And she steps aside to face Delta. "Delta, this is my Aunt Llewella, princess of Rebma and Amber, daughter of Queen Moins."

Delta steps through into a wall of airy water that is a bit thicker than air. She has to fight her impulse to hold her breath, but Celina and Llewella are visibly breathing.

Llewella is a pale-skinned woman with light hair, cropped short to about the length where it would fall around her ears if it were not a floating halo around her head. It may be that her skin and hair are greenish-tinged or that may be a function of light dispersal underwater. She is wearing what looks like a pair of scaled, tight trousers and a top made of light metal chains. It doesn't conceal her breasts at all and that seems normal to her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, cousin Delta," Llewella says.

It'll be a while before Delta can manage stepping through Trumps without a sense of vertigo, like the ground falling away from beneath her. She doesn't tip or fall; instead, she looks back as soon as they're through to make sure Coral is all right. "Grandmama? All's well?" Only then, after Coral's assurance, will Delta really give full attention to the room, Llewella, and the watery Rebmaness of it all.

Coral steps through after Delta, and before Delta can say much more than a few words, she and Llewella are staring at each other. It's clear to everyone that they know each other, and that Coral is plenty comfortable in the waters of Rebma in a way that Delta isn't yet.

"Coral?" Llewella says, with a tone that neither Delta nor Celina have trouble reading as 'really?'.

Coral nods, her aged head held high, and says, "Coral."

"Then Coral it shall be, cousin." Llewella turns her full attention to the contact and says, "Come through, Merlin."

Which Merlin does. "I will remove myself to the airy chamber to put away my card," he tells Llewella and Celina, and bows. "Good day, all."

"What a well-mannered young man," Coral says once Merlin has left. "Who is his mother?"

"Don't ask," Llewella says.

Celina holds face to not be affronted by that last. Then wonders why she is. Perhaps it steps hard on the moment of a family reunion. Or maybe it has more to do with her own mother. The Liar. No lies today, for a piece of Rebma is restored.

Celina offers instead, "Merlin is my brother by my Father, King Corwin. The mother is Dara of Chaos and there is a Fury there that could endanger us all. His mother seeks his life is how Merlin sees it."

Coral's eyes widen and she looks at Llewella, who shrugs and tilts her head slightly. There's an entire conversation between the two aunties in that look.

Celina moves on. "I think quarters for you both in the palace suits me, but what are your wishes?"

Conversation swirls around Delta, though after a check on Coral and pleasant nod and smile to Llewella, Delta doesn't seem to register any of it. She tries to hold her breath, then fails, gasps, breathes, and laughs delightedly at being able to do so. She spreads the fingers of both hands and swirls them around in front of her. A broad smile of wonder never leaves her face.

Celina's question about lodging hangs for a few seconds before Delta blurts, "Grandmama, it's just like you said! Like we're the fish ourselves!"

Celina smiles with delight.

Coral seems lighter and happier; perhaps the water here is bearing her up somehow, or perhaps the cool darkness of Rebma by comparison to the bright sun of the Isles is better for her. She laughs at Delta's childlike glee. "Wait until we eat dinner," she tells Delta before turning her attention back to Celina. "I'd like to stay with my granddaughter, if that's possible."

Celina glances at Llewella but says, "Yes. That seems perfect. We have delegations visit the palace from other trade partners. So a delegation Suite is what I recommend. It will be too large for you but we can change things around later. Such Suites allow you to come and go to the city more directly than through public galleries. Our pages will keep you oriented and such. If you want to see the archive, Llewella or I will arrange it. As a small formality, there are guards throughout the palace."

Celina hardly pauses. "Perhaps I could assign someone who you already know from the Tritons to be a friendly face? Your pleasure."

Celina's polite words draw Delta slowly out of her delight. She says, once Celina has finished, "...are there few friendly faces for my Grandmama here?" It's asked only in curiosity, but still she adds, "I know I wade into deep waters with the question. But I ask it anyway."

Celina laces her fingers. "Not for me to know or say. I hope there are. All this is very new for me." Celina smiles looking between Llewella and Coral.

"You both have friends and family," Llewella says. "Mera, Coral's mother, was my sister through our mother, though she had a different father. So you're my great-great-niece through her. And Celina's mother was Mera's sister and mine as well, so you're also her great-great-niece." She pauses for a moment and looks at Coral. "I had not thought of assigning Tritons, so I did not ask for one to be sent. Do you wish to have one assigned to you, or to Delta? It may be that one will assign himself to you, Coral."

"Let it be for the moment," Coral says. "We will accept the Queen's kind offer of a Delegation Suite. Nobody knows Delta, but I will go hooded."

Llewella nods, but adds, "It won't keep people from knowing who you are. Or were. And your return after Moire's departure will surely be noted."

This is enough to dent Coral's serene acceptance of everything a little. She frowns at Llewella. "Let them think what they will. They might not be wrong. Moire did terrible things to keep the throne. If they read my return as a suggestion I am against those policies, and support Celina here in repudiating her works, they might not be wrong, either. But this isn't the moment for that discussion yet," Coral adds, as much to Celina as to Llewella.

Celina nods once. Then she moves them all along through the emerald glassite galleries to the extensive ambassador quarter.

Coral may have talents for slipping in and out of the city. She may even have familiarized herself with the palace but Celina does not assume so.

Celina doesn't make it a fast walk, she wants her guests to orient and remember the path. The short trip includes passing guard posts.

Once Celina has shown the two at least three of the suite entries, and they each have a different decor theme to correspond to the double dozen seas, Celina asks Coral/Delta to pick the one they like.

"Anything's fine," says Delta. "I don't care much about trappings, gorgeous as these are." She lets Coral pick; in the meantime, she gives Celina an inquisitive look. "Tritons?"

Celina feels extraordinarily close to Delta and there are no pages or guards nearby. She does a TaKhi gesture with her arm that moves bonelessly in a finny swish, while her right hand travels slowly up her upper arm, defining huge added muscles up to her shoulders. "Tritons. Ancient sworn allies. Sons of the Dame of Nedra. Typically they don't wish to speak but there are exceptions."

Delta makes a curious "huh" sort of noise at Celina's answer. "Do they change forms, like Misao?" She gives her cousin a rueful smile. "It'll be a thousand thousand questions while we're here," she admits. "Like how the blazes am I not drowned? For one?"

Coral explains, "By an ancient blessing, the water here in Rebma is such that you and I can breathe it. Also the fishes, and dolphins and whales, some of which breathe water and others of which breathe air," which sounds like the sort of potted explanation you'd give to a child.

"The Tritons are of one shape, so far as we know," Llewella adds, after Coral has answered the first question. "They appear to us as having the upper body of a man and the lower body of a water serpent. Their tails are a dozen feet long or more. If they have another form, they don't show it to us."

Potted explanation or not, Delta's expression brightens again briefly, perhaps at the thought of swimming alongside whales and dolphins without surfacing for breath.

Celina adds, "The Dame Mother of Tritons lives in the Nedra Kelp Beds. Don't go there without an escort."

Delta focuses on Llewella, though, at her description of the Tritons. "Suppose that's their business, then. They sound beautiful in their way." She fixes her newly revealed great-great-aunt with a curious expression. "Have you lived here all your life? In this place?"

Celina wonders then just how far afield Llewella has wandered shadows.

"I've traveled, of course, and I spent time in Amber as a young woman, because my father was King Oberon. But Rebma has always been my home," Llewella says, matter-of-factly. She continues "I didn't like living above the waters much, and my position and status here were always clearer. Oberon and my mother never married. My birth wasn't a scandal in the eyes of Amber, but it was unusual. I was born while Oberon was estranged from the woman he was married to then. So her partisans at court didn't like me. Worse, Oberon legitimated me, which annoyed the partisans of my brother Eric, whose mother wasn't married to Oberon when he was born, which made him questionably legitimate. So Amber wasn't generally a pleasure to visit."

Delta cocks her head as Llewella talks, and confusion is written clear on her face. "They cared that much about marriage and who made who? People like me and Alex, we were flags fluttering in the wind, out there for all to see -- and it was mad monks who found us, not kin." There's no resentment in it, just the slightly slow cadence of someone working things through in their mind. "Suppose it's different when your da is the man in charge of it all."

Lucky that Celina's mood is so good and full of the accomplishments of the week. She does not listen to the stark inner voice that tries to add 'or different if they care so much make your life a lie'.

Celina nods, "Or the man wants everyone to think he's in charge." There is a whole different slant on 'the shadows lie for us'.

Celina offers an orientation to the palace so everyone feels they can go and go as needed.

Llewella is happy to summon servants to guide Coral and Delta to their chambers and to make sure they're provided with anything they need.

Coral is ready to go lie down and rest. This has been a long day for her.

Celina makes sure her guests know where the throne room is (so they can avoid as needed) and where Celina's chambers are (so they can drop by and compare notes later).

Delta watches Coral rest for a while before tugging her boots back on -- and then off. They're underwater, what need does she have for boots? She heads over to the closest window, ready to open it and swim or scale or climb, anything to leave messy emotional bother behind and explore. Halfway through the window, she pauses, looks back at the elderly woman in the bed, and heads back inside. There's a chair near the bed; she settles into it after moving it so its back is to the window. She's here for Coral, not for herself. Just for Coral. And she repeats it enough inside her head that it begins to sound like truth.

Delta must have dozed off, because when she looks up from where she was sitting in the chair-hammock watching Coral sleep in her bed-hammock, there is a silent presence in the room that she didn't remember arriving. At first she thinks it's a large, muscular tattooed man with a bald head and the apparently bluish/greenish skin of the Rebmans she's seen. He's not wearing a shirt, but that does seem to be normal here. And then she realizes his legs are actually a long, long, long tail.

This, then, must be a Triton.

Delta wakes all of a sudden, cast out of an already fading dream with a gasp. She rubs at her eyes before opening them -- and it's then she sees the unfamiliar being in the room. She lunges to her feet and takes two steps toward where she left her weapon, belt, and jerkin. "Get away from her--"

Pause. That's a tail. The man has a tail. Delta stands in an awkward half-reaching pose before saying, "...bloody blazes. Triton, right? Are you here to watch over Coral?"

It takes Delta an unexpected extra moment to unbind herself from the hammock. For all that it's airy and breathable water in Rebma, the water is still water and it tangles her movements when she tries to get out of the hammock as if she were on land. But she manages to right herself and get free almost immediately.

The Triton looks at Delta and shakes his head in answer to her question. He points at her.

Now that Delta is upright and not flailing her way out of her hammock, she stares at the Triton who points at her. "Me?" she says. "Why me? She's the elder. Older is more important in the ways of kings and queens, yes?"

She keeps her gaze on the Triton as she assembles her usual kit -- jerkin belted, rapier at her side, Trumps and Rebman jewel close at hand. Her short, shaggy hair waves in the watery "air" with her movements. "Why do I need watching over?"

Either the creature doesn't speak or it can't, because it communicates with gestures. It simply gestures toward Delta with one hand and its long tail, which drifts towards Delta's legs slowly with the motion of the currents in the room.

Coral is still asleep, but she may wake up if they keep talking.

Delta watches the tail wend toward her. "Gods, look at that," she says in wonder. "What a marvel, man and fish in one." Her gaze flicks back to the Triton's face. "So what does this mean, that you're here for me? Protecting me? But she's the one with the past here. I've never set foot in Rebma before."

She waves her own words away. "You can't answer, right? But how do I exchange for what you offer, when I don't know what that is?" She tries to keep her voice low, but Coral may wake up regardless.

Delta is pretty sure the Triton understands her words but what she said seems to confuse him.

Coral stirs. "Delta?" she asks, muzzy and confused.

Delta moves to the end of Coral's bed and lays a hand on her grandmother's calf, over the blankets. "It's all right, Grandmama. Everything's all right. We just have a...new friend, eh? Unless you already know him?" She gives the Triton a grin as she adds, "Big, blue, tail?"

Coral sits up at once, through not quickly, to look at the Triton. After examining it for a moment, she says, "I would have expected Gorgos, but this is Halimedes. He was Moire's triton. Presumably still is."

Halimedes now swishes his tail a little more.

"Did you come for me, or for her?" Coral asks, and Halimedes points at Delta.

Moire, the once-Queen who fled. Who did terrible things to keep the throne, as the others put it. Who, they said, would be far more powerful if she had the jewel Delta wore on her person, if not on her skin.

Delta has played cards and dice since she was old enough to tally them -- she can keep a stone face even if her thoughts are roiling. "What would the Triton of Moire want with me?" she asks Coral, all while sliding over slightly to keep herself between Coral and the creature perhaps bound to Moire.

Halimedes points at Delta again. It takes her a moment to realize he's pointing at her chest, where Coral's burden lies under her clothes.

Thank all the gods below that Delta learned to bluff so early. "You want me? We've barely met, friend," she says, even managing a grin. "Though I've heard the sentiment before." Smoothly, she adds, "Grandmama, would you mind finding a page, eh? Our guest needs announcing and refreshments. And there have to be servers near. Diplomatic quarters and all that."

Her rapier is across the room, and who knows how its wielding would work in this strange watery atmosphere. She makes no move toward it, or any move, period. Coral's safety matters most.

"He's not a guest," Coral says. "He's a Triton. If he's here for you, Delta, he means to protect you."

Halimedes nods vigorously, disrupting the currents in the room.

For a few seconds, Delta looks utterly baffled. "But if he serves Moire...". She rubs her face with both hands, then tries again. "So he serves Rebma, not her?"

"Their oath was to Moins before Moire, so I think it's to the Crown," Coral explains. "If it's to anyone, now, singly, it would be Celina."

To explain, Delta says to the Triton, "Where I come from, a contract is binding - through everything, all loyalties, all conflicts - until it ends. I thought you might serve Moire still."

She waits for some sense of understanding from the Triton before continuing.

He pauses again, clearly looking for a way to explain her, before finally nodding his understanding.

"They don't talk," Coral says. "Or if they do, it's only in an emergency."

Another nod from Halimedes.

"Aye, figured that," Delta says, while still regarding Halimedes thoughtfully. "All right. You aren't with Celina, so she's either already protected or she doesn't need it? She did walk the maze." She mentions that idly before giving Coral an apologetic look for bringing up the cause of her mother's death.

"Is there another one of you with her?" she then asks Halimedes. Binary questions are the order of the day.

Given that the threat she expected didn't materialize, Delta also eases her posture, sitting cross-legged on Coral's bed with her short hair and blousy shirt sleeves shifting with the watery atmosphere.

Halimedes nods yes.

Delta nods, then flops back on the bed to look upside-down at her grandmother. "Grandmama. If I have to do more learning today, I'll die. He's protecting me, eh? I want to go out and see this place! Would you want to come?" The eager look on her face is tempered by concern; she sets a hand on Coral's knee while adding, "I know it's all sorts of bad feelings here. I do. But I can't just sit in a room and wait for some other new kinsman to tell me what I don't know. I need to move."

She props herself up on her elbows to regard Halimedes again. "We can do that, right? Go swim a bit, see this place? Explore." There's an ocean's worth of yearning in the word.

Halimedes nods his agreement with this idea. He absents himself for a moment, returning with a youth who is apparently the equivalent of the ubiquitous pages in Xanadu. He addresses himself to both Coral and Delta. "You wanted something, ladies?" he asks, a little fear about him. Probably, Delta guesses, of the Triton.

"We do," Coral says. "Once I am dressed, I would like to speak to the Queen, and my granddaughter would like to go into the city. Please arrange for some clothes for her, some breakfast, and for someone to attend on her so she can buy anything she likes. I believe the Triton will be accompanying her," at which Halimedes nods vigorously, "so she will not need a guard, merely someone to collect her goods."

"Of course, Lady Coral," the youth says, and scurries off to make it so.

"You see," Coral says, once they're alone. "All you have to do is ask. And what you're doing is carrying that." Coral points at the gem in its pouch. "The responsibility of that pays for all. Living space, food and drink, the guardianship of a Triton, and more."

Halimedes nods in agreement.

"Then I suppose I better keep looking after it," Delta says lightly. "Though when I go roving again, not sure what Celina's going to want done with it. Not a worry yet," she adds, in case her grandmother protests. "I'm not going anywhere right away. It'd be easier if I could wear the thing, but I believe Merlin when he says 'don't.'"

Now that she knows she'll be able to wander around soon, impatience takes hold. When the food comes, it's inhaled. The clothes, she'll consider, though she has to buckle her jerkin over whatever is given to her so the wrapped and waterproofed cards and regalia stay safe. As she bustles around, Delta says to Halimedes, "When we get outside -- show me a place that's fun, eh?"

Food inhaling takes a bit longer than Delta intended. There's a trick to eating underwater, one that Coral has mastered and helps Delta to learn. Halimedes seems inclined to assist if Delta will let him.

The cards were wrapped in oilskins and sealed. If Delta prefers, there is an air chamber in the castle where they can be left in safety.

Halimedes nods, though he's watching her a bit warily. Perhaps he has no idea what a surfacer woman finds fun.

Once Coral has bustled off for breakfast with the Queen, and Delta is fully dressed, Halimedes accompanies her out of the castle toward the city. There are guards outside the outer door, male, armed with spears.

"Lady Delta," one of them asks as she and Halimedes head out of the castle, "may we accompany you?" Halimedes looks to Delta to see what she wants.

Delta is chattering away about, "I know I can't ask what sorts of games of chance are played down here, but there has to be something, eh? A nod will do." She is therefore brought up short when the guards approach and ask their question. Her brow furrows, showing her brief consternation. "Is not my new blue friend enough?" she says, but holds up a hand, palm-out, before they can even reply. "Damnation," she adds. "I...have a responsibility, I suppose." The regalia in her pocket makes no throb or pulse or magical anything to make itself known, but it's there nevertheless, weighing her down more than she previously considered.

She sucks in a breath, lets it out, and says, "Fall in, I suppose. Shops hold no appeal for me, so -- show me something important. Important to Rebmans, so I might know them better."

"You have a Triton, lady," the young man says, "which makes you our responsibility, as we are also guardians of the royal household. I am Aeneas Orfius, of the Coldstream Guard, and I will be glad to accompany you and your Triton." He smiles at Delta. "And if you would like to know the history of the city, I will take you to some of the monuments. Would this please you?"

Delta immediately nods. "That'd be perfect. And I'm Delta." She nods at each guard in turn, with her hand over her heart in salute. Before they set off, she pauses to look at Halimedes apologetically. "I thought we'd just swim around a bit, eh? I want to see reefs and coral, the undergods' world. Explore every underwater inch. But..." She half-smiles, then shrugs. "You can predict the tides, but not all the sea."

She straightens her back like a Celina might do, and says, "All right, uh, Aeneas. Lead on?" "As you say, my Lady. Please accompany me." Aeneas steps out, waiting for her to follow. The other guard takes up the rear and the triton swims along. It's usually not directly overhead, but when it is, it seems quite intimidating. No one seems inclined to stop them on the street, or even get in their way. But it's very clear that that are a dramatic foursome that few people can ignore.

Aeneas can ignore the triton, for the most part. He walks with the easy confidence of someone who is used to being the center of attention.

"When her majesty's father and his kin were fighting our enemies in distant lands, the war came here, in the form of black tides that caused Rebmans to sicken. Things came in on those tides and we fought them. The city has a monument to those killed defending us against it, or in the seabed quake that ended it. Many brave men from my own unit, the Coldstream Guards, have their names on the plaques."

The monument is quite new, and seems to mostly consist of name after name of the dead. It's easy to see how such a massive event would be a large part of the city's identity.

Across the square is another monument. It looks like a Triton killing a man. "That's 'Lir and the Triton', a memorial to the Dragon's Attack."

He seems polite, but he's not the world's best tour guide.

"That you?" Delta calls up to the Triton swimming above when they pass the Lir monument. It's cheerfully called -- Delta's entertaining herself, since Aeneas's efforts are less than exciting. Before the triton can even answer, her body calls for a full-throated yawn, mouth open, very audible. There's no apology after, just recognition of however the Triton answers.

The Triton moves down toward Delta and the monument, looks at her, looks at the monument, and shakes his head in a clearly recognizable no.

Following that, she tilts her head and regards Aeneas. "All right. Have any public squares or whatnot that don't commemorate someone trying to destroy the place? You do have a few peaceful years in a row now and again, yes?"

Aeneas nods. "Oh yes, most of the time things are peaceful. We had the Black Trench War, the same as Amber had her war, and we had the Triton war, and we have had the recent invasion by Huon, but that's three wars in a few millennia. Even when Queen Moins died and we had an interregnum, things were peaceful," he explains. "And now that Queen Celina is on the throne, we expect peace for a long time. She's already working to rebuild the city.

"Most of our wars are in the seaward, far from here."

"Celina seems like a steady sort, aye," Delta says. "Cares about the place." A few seconds pass in which she considers and discards further social niceties before finally just giving her guard and his fellows a wry half-smile. "All right. We've looked at statues and squares and plaques, and now I want to stare at a full cup of ...whatever you drink down here... and a decent hand of ..." She tilts her head. "Dice? Suppose cards are out. What do you all gamble with?" Dignitary, royalty, whatever -- no family of either side is in her presence, and Delta wants a drink and a game. Her smile grows as she moves to hopefully take the guard's arm. "It'll be educational, eh?"

A slow smile lights Aeneas' face. "I had thought to take you to my family's shrine, because I'm sure it's different from the family rites of your homeland," he says, "but I can take you to a gambling establishment if you like. And find you some liquor. How do you gamble above the waves?" he asks. "I've heard all kinds of stories."

Delta must like that slow smile, because she returns it easily in kind. "I'd gladly see your people's shrine. After, eh?" With that ambiguous plan set, she answers Aeneas' question. "Cards mostly, where I come from. Dice at times. But card games are best. Old Man's Bluff, Sea-and-Stones, Widowmaker. Even just Cut-and-Choose, when I can't think well enough for the others. But my people bet on everything that isn't known to be a sure thing, yes? The fastest ship, the best haul, the weightiest catch. Like, ah..." She glances around for anything that may be happening around them, from children swim-running to vendors at their work, looking for something, anything competitive.

"Your people sound like soldiers. Half my barracks is in debt to the other half for the next 400 years or so, near as I can tell." He frowns. "The best gambling places may not be good choices to bring one of them," he says, nodding upwards. "The high-born ladies generally gamble in their private clubs." It doesn't sound as if he thinks that's where you want to go.

Aeneas isn't being very discreet about it, and Delta thinks the triton has likely heard his comment. It doesn't seem to slow or affect his path over her head.

Aeneas leads her down streets that don't seem to be quite as grand as they walked before.

Delta barks a laugh at Aeneas' quip. "That's the way of it, eh? Luck travels where it will." But his next observation brings a more sober expression to her face. She murmurs, "What do people think of them? The Tritons? And aye, you're right -- I suppose he won't float into a pub and hover among the rafters. This is all brand bloody new to me, soldier. I used to live a very different life." Her shoulders come down a little as they enter the less opulent streets.

Aeneas smiles. "They're 20 foot long inhuman fighting chimerae who are only loyal to the Queen because they lost a war. They don't speak, at least not to us, and they live in a part of town where nobody feels safe. In the guard, we're closer to them than most people, but nobody wants them in their neighborhood.

"As a soldier assigned to the palace, I'm more used to them than most Rebmans. They're still disconcerting. But your family are known as our Sorcerer Queens, so consorting with demon creatures is probably more like what you're used to."

Delta doesn't think he means that in a malicious way, no matter how it comes out. "What was your life like before you came here?"

"They live where no one feels safe?" she asks, arching a brow. But Aeneas has asked a question, and Delta turns on a grin as she answers it. "Ahh, it was mad fun, and will be again. I've been a sailor, a soldier, an explorer -- not enough of an explorer, but that'll come -- and a merry presence wherever merriment can be found. We live on the water, where I'm from - on it, not under - and we worship the gods who live far, far below in the black depths. Do you? Have such gods?"

Before he answers, she adds without rancor, "And where I'm from, we've no sorcerers. That I know about. I've seen wonders since I was taken from home, though. Wild wonders, and aye, sorcery for sure. Is that a terrible thing?"

"Sorcery? There are more charlatans and grifters than anything else, really. But the Queens of Rebma are nearly immortal. In the thousands of years since the city was founded, there have only been four, and one of those died young. You may be better off without them, or you may be one and not know of it. They say Queen Celina didn't know her ancestry for most of her life.

"Oh, and Gods are a personal thing, or a family thing. A shrine to the small spirts of the hearth that help around the home, perhaps. Mayhap a legendary figure, like Lir. But not Gods as they are worshiped in the far shells."

Delta squeezes the man's arm as they walk along. "Charlatans and grifters, that's just fine. Magic itself is ...frightening. Exhilarating to watch, but frightening all the same." Her head is on a swivel as she speaks, taking in the less opulent streets, the people they pass, their attire and manners. One business looks like it might be a restaurant or public house of some sort, and she stops in her tracks. "Here? I need my drink, soldier." Delta offers Aeneas a cheeky smile, while evading entirely the mention of Rebman queens and their immortality.

She does glance up at Halimedes, though, and pantomimes with the fingers of her spare hand that she and Aeneas may be going inside.

Halimedes flicks his tail and a swirl of water jets behind him. He's climbing up and establishing what looks to be a pattern for circling above the tavern.

Aeneas doesn't pay any attention to him, and opens the door. The inside of the tavern is lit by the same bluish glowing globes that Delta has seen elsewhere in the castle and the city, but is otherwise the same as three dozen taverns Delta has been drinking and sometimes drunk in. It's not full by any means, and the people in the bar now are dedicated drinkers.

The barman looks up from the glass globe he's polishing. They don't really dry dishes in Rebma. He's got a professionally friendly smile which quickly changes to a look of concern at the presence of the guard. Still, he puts on his hospitality voice, which is deep and gravelly.

"Can I get you something?"

Delta looks, for a second, nonplussed at Halimedes' instant obedience toward her little hand signal.

Soon enough she swans into the tavern after Aeneas. The room receives an approving look-over, including those dedicated barflies. She points their way and says cheerily to the wary bartender, "Two of what they're having!" She arches a brow at Aeneas then. "And whatever you'd like, besides. My treat, eh? Unless you can't drink in the uniform, in which case -- poor you, but I'm drinking anyway."

The barman grins, and reaches for two globes of liquid from the top shelf. Aeneas clears his throat and the barman smoothly switches to something else. "Of course, My Lady."

Aeneas smiles. "There's no rule against drinking, Ma'am. Only against being unfit for duty." He picks up a globe full of smoky brown liquid and takes a sip from it. "It's very raw, ma'am," he says.

Delta doesn't protest the 'my lady,' and 'ma'am,' given her new-found family. Whatever wincing she might be doing is internal. Instead, she says a cheery, "Raw is fine by me," and tosses back. And tosses back. Both go down -- if not smoothly, then at least with energetic enthusiasm.

Within ten minutes, she's signaling for another round and leaning forward on the table to begin tale-telling. "So the gods below, eh? Prava watches the high deep, where ships sail and men fish and swim and drown. When you sink, his are the arms that cradle you while there's still light in the water. Shenn watches the middle deep, the mysteries that know light exists somewhere, the mysteries that still believe in land. The deep-deep is held by the king of gods himself, whose name is his own and not known to man. Our bones settle there and our spirits swim forever in peaceful darkness."

She drinks again. "Shamans and water-talkers say the deep-deep holds gateways to the fires below the water. But how could that be? I won't see until I die, eh, but it's something to look forward to?"

Delta is a chatty drinker.

Aeneas nods along at all of that. "There are fires beneath the waves, ma'am. Definitely places you can see the raw burning lava of underwater volcanoes and other effects. We forge steel here, and that requires immense heat and pressure."

"What do your gods want with you, anyway? Why do they choose to cradle you?"

It's a good, intriguing question, but Delta is completely absorbed by Aeneas' first statement. "Fire beneath the waves. Tell. Me. Everything." She has her chin cupped in the palms of both hands, and Aeneas receives all her attention as if he's the most interesting man in all the world.

He blinks, not used to the undivided attention of one of the Lords of Creation. Aeneas soon rallies, however. "I mean, some fires are different. The globes burn, but it's not regular fire. If we go into the kitchen behind the bar, there'll be a fire in the stove, the same as if you were at an inn on land. You would need to ask the Queen about how we breathe here, but fire breathes the same way.

"But for iron and steel, nothing is quite as strong as volcanic fires from the sea-floor, where the lava flows and the smiths must be constantly ready to move.

"Some even make weapons of polished lava, and they are the sharpest swords and spears I have ever seen."

"Is that what you wield?" she asks, with unabashed curiosity. "And I want to see these forges - underwater forges, ha! The world is full of wonders. You'll have to show me sometime, eh?"

She then grins. "All right. Enough of that. Here." She reaches within her jerkin for a pair of bone dice -- six sided -- with little markings of fish on each face. "Six fish is high, one low. Of course. Care to try your luck?" The grin broadens. "I won't play you for coin, especially since you have to be escorting me. Were we stepping out? I'd be merciless."

Aeneas nods, seriously, and takes the dice. "It's important to be merciless at games of chance." He throws, and the dice bounce and clatter, turning up two threes.

"Almost as average as you can get. How does this game go?"

She barks a laugh at his roll. "Already with the twin dice! Perhaps I've chosen my opponent poorly." The game is simple to explain, simple to play, and Delta is having a marvelous time, right until she's asked if she wants more drinks. There's a clear 'yes' in her expression, but before she can say it, she mutters, "...damn. None, thank you."

When alone again, she says, "Ah, Aeneas -- it's probably time to return to my, ah, delegation? And our large blue floating friend must be bored circling over the premises. Though I'd gladly stay here another night and a day."

"I don't think they get bored, ma'am. They make excellent guards. They're impressive-looking and good at standing still, and people think twice about messing with them.

"Horrible scouts, same reason." He shakes his head. "As the Queen's kinswoman, you can do anything you want. My role is to help you navigate those things. We can leave if you desire, and I can bring you back here if you desire, later."

"Kind of you," she says with a smirk as she pockets her dice. "Off we go."

Anyone who served them gets extra coin as tip, and it's right outside the establishment that Delta pivots and gives Aeneas a grin. "Beyond those offers -- to squire me about, and so on..." There's a delicate pause, and if Aeneas thinks her smile turns suggestive, he's right. "...if you'd like company some evening, outside of uniform? Well. You know where my quarters are, eh? Or perhaps a soldier at your level gets a single, instead of a cot in a row of ten. Up to you, and no foul if it's no." She leaves it there, still smiling.

The corners of Aeneas' mouth curl up in about the same mood as Delta's, and he nods to her. "I'm at your service, milady," he says with an entirely proper tone. Only his expression makes it anything more.

If Halimedes hasn't already noticed her emergence, Delta waves up at her Triton guard. "Hallo up there! Time to head back."

Halimedes has, in fact, noticed her exit from the building, and is watching her. He doesn't respond to her wave beyond a brief nod, but Delta is well aware of his regard.

Delta is heading back to the palace to check in with Coral -- her grandmother might feel discomfited, after all. It's a difficult place for Coral, and even Delta will forego a pleasure or two to make sure her grandmother is all right. Whoever Coral might be with -- or even if she's just resting in their room -- Delta would like to spend a little time in Coral's presence.

Before she reaches the palace, her guardian triton returns to her side. He follows silently through the wide, high corridors and the functionaries and working staff of the palace take no more notice of him than of the houseplants.

Coral, improbably, has picked up a servant. She shows Delta in and makes a hand-signal to the triton. The giant fish-man does not enter the suite.

"I could get used to this," Coral says, entering from the second chamber. "As long as they don't want to push me off the stairs."

"Hullo," says Delta to the servant. "Teach me that signal later?"

The woman bows, slightly. She is apparently not used to be addressed. She quickly makes a point of closing the door behind Delta and then busies herself elsewhere.

With that, she nearly sashays into the suite, giving Coral a wide grin. "You could land on Halimedes, eh? I think you'd bounce." She flops down on the nearest sofa, settee, bed, whatever is closest. "If you hear indecent noises later, Grandmama, be happy for me." But once those words are smugly delivered, she props herself up on one elbow and regards Coral.

"Would you? Stay longer, like you used to? If Celina shows you favor, if the past can be put in the past? I'll visit you anywhere, you know that. Isle or underwater or ...blazes, I've no idea where else our kin have gone. The sky? The sun?"

Coral frowns. "There's a stairway between Amber and here, or now between Paris and here. It's got the same breathable water and is the mirror of the road to the castle of Amber in that city. Outside of the stair, the water pressure will crush you instantly, but not in here. This is the high magic of Rebma, and no one knows why it is, except perhaps a sorcerer decided to make it possible to live below the waves.

"If you step outside it, you die. It happens so quickly that you don't even drown. It's a cruel and gruesome method of execution."

She turns towards Delta. "This place, even under new management, is old and subtle and has a brick in a sock for when you're not watching it. Your mother couldn't have handled it. You ... might. At least you're old enough for me not to try to keep you from making squeaking noises in your chambers with or without your gentleman friends. Do find out who his sisters are first. It'll matter."

"Subtle," Delta echoes from her mostly reclined position, then sighs. "Grand. My favorite. I'll remember about the stairway, though." She fixes her grandmother with a keen look. "Who would want to push you? Who still lives, I mean?"

Coral gets a card-sharp's look on her face. "This is an excellent question that you'll need to periodically ask yourself if you become notable here.

"When I was young and not so wise, I was friends with a minor noble. She was much more obviously important than I was, and very political. I was never brave enough to meet with her friends, but I thought they were dashing and clever and were trying to right wrongs. Her enemies framed her for murder to discredit her political friends.

"Cassia probably was guilty of treason, but not the treason they accused her of. She was pushed off the stair. That's the way it worked, back then.

"And there are definitely people who remember it. Bend and her brother, for one. If they're still the Queen's spymasters, then they could arrange it, if they find themselves motivated to do it. They usually had a number of motives. Very efficient and ruthless."

She sighs. "And that's just the official way. That's what I left. I didn't want to raise your mother in that. But I'm not sorry I'm back, unless it hurts you. And I'm arming you against that, by telling you that.

"Best not to tell your mother."

Delta sits up, cross-legged. "I've known not to tell my mother a blasted thing for years. But -- by the Queen's spymasters, do you mean Celina? Did she keep the ones of the Queen before?" There's a thoughtful look on her face. "What would they do, these spymasters, if approached directly?" She gives Coral a quick, rueful grin. "Since directly is how I do things."

Coral looks at Delta for a moment. "Oh, you'll meet them, or might. The way a job like that works, in a place like this, is that they're at court. They mingle, they smile, they seem to have agendas like any woman. The Queen might not speak to them of what she wants done. But a thing is noticed, and it is commented upon, and suddenly someone inconvenient is floating upwards."

She laughs. "It might be novel to try approaching them directly. It's probably been a long time since anyone tried that."

"Then that's exactly what I'll do," Delta says. "If you're staying here, I need to know it's with no one targeting you. I need to know you'll be safe." 'Safe' is said with heavy emphasis, and a keen look at her grandmother. "It'd be grand if they thought you harmless now." Her smile quirks up a little at the corner at the jest about any of her kin being 'harmless.'

"Tell me of them? Bend and her brother?"

"Montage is his name. The Queen forgave their shell some awful trespass in the past, and they've been her loyal servants for generations. And by loyal, I mean dedicated to the proposition that her serene higness should not have her serenity disturbed by knowing too much of the facts of spy craft. Nobody knows if those two are the bosses or if they are just the friendly face of imperial power, but they're supposed to be thugs in the service of the Queen's peace. Not of the queen, mind you, but of her peace.

"Sometimes that's the same and sometimes not." She shrugs.

"Who knows? There may be a hidden spymaster behind them. But maybe not. You may have to find that out for yourself. They are creatures of the court, although I have not seen either of them since we came here."

Delta's brow creases in her confusion. "But Celina is queen now, eh? She fought for it, she won it, it's hers. Didn't she kill or buy those who served the Queen before?" It is, after all, what a Pearl Islands warlord would do. "The previous Queen's peace isn't Celina's, yes?" She stretches out to grab for a drink, any drink -- however that works in Rebma's watery 'air.' "Balls. Rebma is too blasted complicated. All of it's too blasted complicated."

She holds up a hand as if to stall a rebuke. "I know. I know. All things are possible, above the sea and below. I'm just turned around. So -- aye. I need to go seek out this Bend and Montage, I think. With my new blue friend at my side."

"Rebma is big, and ancient, and sprawling. It has layers upon layers of interests and relationships and intricate webs of obligation and opportunity, if you know the right name to drop at the door. Celina came in at the top. It hasn't been a year yet, and everyone's waiting. She's got a lot of good will, from bringing an army to defend the city from invaders, but everyone knows that she and Khela were out there with an army to be the invaders if the Queen hadn't fled. But if things turn on her, or they get messy and she can't control 'em, there's lots of people who could easily see the return of Moire as a good thing.

"So everyone, old guard and new, is all smiles and 'our savior', but there's winning the war and winning the peace.

"There's nobody who's beat their tridents into plowshares, yet. And here we are, fresh and new."

"I don't envy Celina her role, that's for sure," Delta says. "In charge of the whole mess?" She shakes her head. "Not something I'd ever want."

She stretches and leans back again, seeming content to sleep where she is. "I suppose while I'm still here, I can try to help her. Kin, and it doesn't hurt to have a warlord -- queen -- on your side. Besides, I like her." It's said idly. She reaches for a blanket to draw over herself. "In the morning, then -- I'll go find these spymasters. Coming with, or is this a folly I take on by myself?"

"I don't think the throne would fall to our line, but I didn't expect Celina to inherit. Didn't know she existed, actually. So there's precedent, I guess."

Coral bring a blanket over and throws it over Delta. It settles slowly through the water, but seems to do the job as expected.

"You have to go on your own. Someone has to stay back to bail you out."

Delta barks a laugh, though it subsides into a content murmur as the blanket settles over her. "Thank you, Grandmama." She doesn't seem quite ready to sleep, though it's close. "What'd you do through the long day and evening? Does it all seem familiar again?" Her eyelids drift closed, but she's listening.

"Nothing important. I wrote letters." She smiles. "I just have to decide which ones to send." She covers the globe lamp. "Now sleep, child. Grandmama's tired."