Hera - By Chrystalla Thoma Page 0,2

unsettle her so. She should have burned it, not kept it hidden under her mattress.

She should have destroyed it once and for all.

Movement caught her eye, snapping her thoughts in half. She grabbed Sacmis’ shoulder, drawing a sharp breath. “Drive closer to that cliff. I think I saw movement.”

She was not sure she’d seen it. Early daylight reflected off the broken mirrors of the waves, torturing her eyes. But it might be an illegal mortal boat, sailing around the islands to set up fish traps or nets. Mortals were only allowed on land, and to cross between the islands they had to use the bridges or the official ferries. The sea was not theirs to command.

The sea belonged to the Gultur. It was the way things were since the Great War – a strict clause in the peace treaty with the lesser mortals, and one of the security measures taken by the Gultur administration.

As if there was somewhere the mortals could escape to. As if there was anything beyond the Seven Islands. Beyond, said the historical and the sacred writings, lay only the great ocean.

If only her mother’s message did not hint at other, far more complicated and all too unpleasant things.

“Are you sure? I see nothing there.” And yet Sacmis obeyed, veering toward the steep coast. The cliffs towered over them, sparkling wet with crags and projections. Seagulls flapped off their roosting places, and a sea eagle rose a dark shadow outlined on the light blue of the sky. Waves crashed against the rock formations, carving them into sharp pinnacles and round wheels. Shoals of silver fish jumped out of the water and dove back in like sprays of bullets.

No movement. Hera surreptitiously rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had imagined it, but had to admit that nothing suspect appeared to be there. She really was out of sorts. “Turn around. Head north again.”

Sacmis chewed on her lower lip in what looked like an attempt not to laugh. “Sure. Well, at least you’ll write in your report that I obeyed without a single question, will you not?”

Sacmis’ record of obedience was not the best and they both knew it. It was this defiance that had first endeared her to Hera. Not many Gultur seemed inclined to oppose authority in any way.

“We shall see.” Hera grinned as they headed again north, the exhilaration of her first patrol finally catching up with her. Dakron exhaust fumes filled her nostrils as the wavebreaker accelerated, passing outside the dark expanses interspersed with lights that were the towns of Priene, Thuri and Elatia. Breath catching in her throat, Hera watched the coast markers until they passed the beacon of Gortyn, her mother’s words forgotten for a moment.

In all their training patrols, they had never gone that far north. This coastline stretch was completely new to her. They sped by enormous pillars jutting out of the deep sea like towers. In the distance to her far right, something glinted and moved.

“A whale!” Sacmis whooped. “We have to report it to the HQ. Red meat!”

The gray-black whale, a humpback, large as a Gultur fishing vessel, blew a jet of water, then dove underwater, her tail giving them a final wave before it sank. Hera’s mind stalled for a moment, the open sea, the whale’s tail, the jutting pillars and the silhouette of the island of Kukno blanketed in a fine haze filling her eyes and thoughts.

Freedom. She had never felt so free before. As if she could speed away into the blue and disappear forever, never again returning to the Bone Tower or the headquarters in Dakru City. As if she could avoid facing her growing sense of unease and distrust – of the system, of her race, of the accepted truth.

As if. She shook her head, exasperated with herself. What has gotten into you now?

To their left, the coast sank lower, the cliffs replaced by deep coves where brackish water spilled from the central stream that crossed Dakru City to the marshes and eventually out into the sea.

“Steer farther to the right,” Hera commanded. The area was brimming with fish, thanks to the nutrients spilling into the water, and great nets were stretched all along the marsh front. They could not get too close, or else they might snag the boat.

Sacmis did as told, raising an eyebrow as if to say she knew this already, but Hera ignored her and turned her gaze back to the coast, scanning it. Illegal fishermen normally avoided this area