They were herded to the docks, to a small boat painted in rich blues and reds, the wood ornately carved with the symbols of the revolution. A stallion standing on hind legs. The red spilled blood of the revolutionaries. The white dove whose delivered message saved the Liberator’s life. It was manned by a human captain and two nozariel rowers. And once they were all aboard, they took off.
Tierra’e Sol was the name of the cays and archipelagos stretching along the Cow Sea. It was a band wrapped around the Fedrian coast, of small islands and pools made shallow by the coral formation bursting in all hues of the rainbow. A land of sunlight and sparse seasons of rain, it had been given an obvious name by the human pilgrims of Segol when they’d found its shores after an arduous voyage.
Far in the distance, on the biggest island, sitting at the foot of a mountain and shielded from the beachfront by a forest of sea grapes and palms, were the clay-tiled rooftops of several buildings, including the peeking windows of a watchtower. A chapel’s bell caught the light of the sun and glinted a blinding gold. A great black bird soared over the island and disappeared behind the mountain. Distantly, Reina thought of a condor and how her grandmother owned a black jacket with a white collar that made her resemble one.
“What’s that?” Maior gasped, leaning forward in the boat and pointing at something below the surface, right under the reflection of the sun.
Celeste also leaned over, the ends of her long hair dipping into the water like a brush into an inkwell.
“It’s a sea cow,” the captain told them, galvanized by their delight.
The boat tipped in one direction with their collective weight as they caught a glimpse of the mammal. There was no need to strain. It swam closer curiously, joined by a companion. They were each the size of a calf, round and gray, with two stunted front paws and a large flat hind fin. A layer of moss covered their backs, spotting them in green. They remained submerged right below the surface, tentatively sticking out their muzzles while considering Celeste’s and Maior’s outstretched hands.
“Are they dangerous?” Eva asked.
“Not at all,” one boatman said. “Sirenas share these waters with us. They’re not our game, so they have no reason to fear us.”
Maior giggled as she managed to graze one with the tip of her fingers.
“They like to say hello.” He chuckled.
The second one spluttered Eva with salty water when she leaned forward for a petting. She gasped, jumping back, and the group laughed.
Maior moved over so Celeste and Reina could get a chance to touch the nearest one. “So wait,” she told Reina, “is that why the Cow Sea is named…？”
Javier chuckled. “Sea cow, Cow Sea. Clearly the Segoleans weren’t creative with their names.”
“Aye. But here we call them sirenas,” said the boatman.
The sea cows kept them so entertained they were surprised when the boat reached the island’s small docks, which were shaded in the jutting shadows of a red-and-indigo-painted galleon. The ship was devoid of attendants, yawning with the gentle rise and fall of the tide, a perch spot for the gulls and occasional pelican.
“All right, my lord and ladies, we’ve arrived. Please take care hopping off, though if you do fall, you couldn’t possibly drown.” The captain chuckled, gesturing to the shallow waters.
Two pretty nozariel girls descended to the beach, carrying a tray of refreshments. “Welcome to Tierra’e Sol!” they said in unison, their intact tails swishing.
“Look, Reina, they’re just like you,” Javier said with cheery sarcasm.
The server handed Reina a copper goblet rimmed with chunks of coconut. Reina’s cheeks grew warm from the attention, but she denied him the reaction he wanted.
“The Liberator eagerly awaits your arrival,” they said after divulging about the watchman on the tower who saw their approach. Then they led the group through a canopied trail carved through the jungle’s innards.
There the day was alive with the hooting and chirping of native critters. A high noon breeze ran through the trail, flowing to a faraway outlet and carrying the crunchy leaves strewn on the ground. Every tree breathed and sang and rustled. The sides of the trail were naturally decorated with sprouting flowers of too many hues to count. And within them were tiny lizards and colorful little bugs that scurried away as Reina and the others passed.
“Oh!” Eva gasped, pointing at the iguana that skittered from one side of the path to the other.
“I hope Don Samón agrees to protect me,” Celeste said with her eyes to the canopy. “I could live here forever.”
In reply, Javier yawned.
They chatted until the canopy opened up to the twisting wrought iron and gold-plated gates of Don Samón’s manse, which were nearly buried in an exuberant growth of fragrant jasmine. The grounds hummed with the chatter and presence of people. Folks with sharp posture who Reina immediately recognized as soldiers out of uniform. They huddled in different cliques, some wrestling, and others sharing stories with sloshing goblets in hand. The sight was a surprise and matched in earnest by those who noticed the arrival of the antlered valcos. Reina felt eyes on her as well, the looks that paused on the tail swaying with her strides.
A girl around the age of ten or twelve dodged the crowd to meet them, escorted by another pair of servants. She was a pretty thing, donning a tunic the color of sunlight. Ringlets of sun-bleached hair framed her brown eyes, crowned by two marble-white antlers. They were short and inconspicuous, like Eva’s and Celeste’s.
She bowed stiffly, as if unused to the gesture, and said, “Do?a Celeste ?guila of Sadul Fuerte, we have been waiting for you for so many days. And you brought friends!”
Celeste smiled, eyes on the girl’s antlers. “I take it you are Don Samón’s daughter.”
With a toothy smile, the girl nodded.
She was little more than skin and bones—not emaciated, but with a thinness too thin for a girl of her status. She introduced herself as Ludivina Bravo.
They followed her into a large courtyard, where the melody of a faraway guitar lazily joined the birdsong of the surrounding greenery. A man-made pond sat in the very center, populated by fat fish of saturated colors and curious little plants Reina had never seen anywhere else before. The pond was square in shape and lined by a dozen handsome palm trees, all heavy with coconuts.
The guitar stopped, and Ludivina gestured to the courtyard, where people dressed in bright clothes that hung loosely around their bodies milled about in mild conversation. “We don’t usually have this many visitors over, but this is a special time, because of Rahmagut’s Claw. Are you familiar with the legend?” she said with innocent brightness.
“Yeah, we know of it,” Celeste muttered.
Reina wondered if the people were here to commune with Rahmagut, or to prevent it. But she decided against asking now, not to rouse Celeste’s suspicions.
Ludivina giggled contentedly. Her smiling eyes reminded Reina of someone, though she couldn’t pinpoint the resemblance. “I’m excited that you’ve arrived. Papi said he would host a big party to welcome you. You will love it.”
“Are our guests here?” a middle-aged man boomed from the entry steps of the building across the pond, briefly earning him the attention of everyone in the courtyard. He approached, unfazed. “Welcome to Tierra’e Sol!”