Surrendered to the Sea Read online

  *

  When sunlight touched the easternmost edge of his realm, Lir was immediately wide awake. He loosened his hold on his human and scooted gently away from it, careful not to put an elbow or knee through the delicate structure of the algae-and-plastic raft.

  At a little distance he could actually see his land-dweller. It—he, Lir saw by the shape of the organs between his legs—was fair-skinned with sandy-colored hair, and freckles on his nose and cheeks like more speckles of sand. His eyelashes, darker than his hair, were long and rested lightly on his cheeks. He looked a little skinny—he was built slim and sleek, smaller than Lir’s land-dweller shape, but he looked underfed even for his size, his bones too close to his skin.

  He would need food to eat. Lir’s domain could provide plenty of that, but he would need fresh water to drink, too, and more than just one rather squashy raft to move around on. Land-dwellers liked a bit more... land, generally. Even if Lir could keep him alive without it, his father had told him he needed to learn more about land-dweller ways, which would require actual land.

  Lir would just have to make him some.

  Looking around beyond his sleeping land-dweller, Lir realized that his brothers’ donations of plastic detritus hadn’t ended after that first batch Mar sent him during the night. Ordinary currents, only nudged a little here and there, must have brought more while Lir slept by his human, and he could sense that more still was on the way.

  All around where he and his land-dweller had slept, the gathered bits of plastic that fell into the gyre around this spot had accumulated, and the algae that Lir had pushed to grow at double speed, to make a cushion for his human, had spread out to surround and anchor everything in reach. The gyre had widened accordingly, making a calm circle of ocean now a dozen meters across. The lacy green layer on top of the water spread out more than a body’s length in every direction around the little central raft.

  “Oh, excellent,” Lir pronounced, seeing the shape of the project before him.

  He dove smoothly down through the nearest thin spot in the algae bloom and shifted to a more convenient shape; merely two legs and two arms was rather limiting, in the water. He swam here and there, directing the plastic that was still arriving to form denser chains down below the surface as well as along it, making ribs for the upper structure and anchoring tentacles down below.

  He drew up the old skeletons of long-dead coral from the borders of long-cooled vents, and called all the shallow-living plants to come and twine through the new framework. These strengthened the raft and made it a living thing, while the currents he directed kept all afloat in a spreading patch of calm water.

  When he knew it would bear the weight, Lir surfaced and climbed up onto the raft again. It was nearly still underfoot, not bobbing noticeably with his weight, and wide enough not to move detectably while the water under it was so still. It was... strange, and for a moment he wanted to undo it, to weaken it and make it ride the waves as every other surface-thing did in his domain.

  But no. That was what land was; it was still while the sea moved. That was what land-dwellers needed, and therefore it was part of what his father wanted him to understand.

  Lir grinned. At this rate he would have his father convinced by summer, and there would be no more need to worry.

  Still, his floating bit of land was far from complete. Moving to the center, near where his human was still sweetly sleeping, Lir knelt and patted around on the... ground? Yes, it would be ground now, as the water drained from it and it grew sturdier. He called up sand from the ocean floor—black and volcanic, here along the ridge that marked the western border of Lir’s domain.

  The sand came up to cover the quick-grown algae, making the raft look like proper land. When he had a nice covering he piled up more in the center and shaped a bowl with his hands. With a touch and a thought, he fused the sand into smooth black glass, making a sealed hollow large enough to hold twice as much water as the volume of his land-dweller’s body.

  Looking at him to judge how much water he would need, Lir thought his human looked comfortable enough where he was. He was still asleep, and with a nice pink color to his skin that must mean warmth for a land-dweller. Lir turned his attention back to his work and called up a very small raincloud, just above the height of his own head when he stood on the sand, and let it empty itself into the pool.

  There. Plenty of fresh water, and land for to stand on, and clearly his land-dweller was warm enough. When he woke up, Lir could ask him what kinds of things he might like to eat, out of all the abundance in Lir’s domain, and then he would be well on his way to supplying everything his land-dweller needed.

  Lir considered slipping back into the sea, just to feel the normal swell and fall of the waves and the countless living things within. But he knew he mustn’t get distracted from his land-dweller, and he wanted to be there when he woke up, to see how he liked this place Lir had made for him.

  Lir sat down on the warm black sand and watched his land-dweller sleeping in the morning sun.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  Devon startled awake to a rush of sensations—ow and naked and not alone what is that thing—and shifted before he even had his eyes open all the way. He scrambled up in his wolf shape, half-crouching as he tried to guess whether to fight or submit to the stranger.

  The stranger was... very strange. He was human-shaped, with olive-tanned skin and shaggy black hair, his jaw shadowed with stubble. His eyes were a startlingly clear pale blue-green, and he was grinning.

  But his scent made no sense. He didn’t smell human, but not like a werewolf either. He smelled... big, much bigger than the form Devon could see, and powerful, and... green and salty and cool.

  “Oh!” he said, before Devon could even try to puzzle that out. “You have other forms as well! I cannot match that one, but here—”

  And just like that, the man before him shifted—not into a wolf, but into a seal, black as his hair and, weirdly, still with ocean-colored eyes.

  YOU SEE—

  The voice in Devon’s head thundered, roared, so that he could barely perceive the words or their cheerful tone. Devon snapped back into his human form, where he had hands to clap over his ears, not that that could really help. He curled over like a pill bug, trying to hide in the sand, but he was horribly aware that he was naked again, and soft-skinned. For a second there was nothing but the gentle rocking of the—ship?—under him and the relentless sun pounding down.

  Then he felt a very gentle touch on his toes. He jerked back from it before it really registered, but half a second later he realized that it hadn’t hurt, and that whatever the seal-shifter—selkie?—was, he hadn’t intended to hurt Devon with that mind-splitting silent shout.

  He was wearing his human shape again too, Devon found when he opened one eye to a slit. His scent was still that baffling mix of salt and green and power, though his eyes had turned to a heavy gray. Like—

  Like the sea.

  But they also looked worried; the stranger’s whole face was crumpled in concern, making lines around his eyes and flattening his lips.

  “Sorry,” he said, almost whispering, reaching out a hand toward Devon but not touching him again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—that was too loud, wasn’t it? I guess I’m used to being... loud, out here. I don’t... don’t get much chance to practice talking to...”

  The stranger’s gaze drifted down from Devon’s eyes, and Devon remembered that he was naked, and so was the stranger—who was surely some kind of alpha, whatever else he was. But his expression didn’t turn leering or hungry, didn’t make Devon want to cover himself.

  “...Anyone like you,” the stranger finished, his eyes coming back up to meet Devon’s, and there was interest there. Not in the pushing way that some alphas had, but just like... like Devon was a puzzle, something he wanted to understand.

  Devon tried to smile back and it came out as a grimace—his head still hurt pretty badly from that silent roar.


  “Sorry, sorry,” the stranger scrambled forward a little, half crawling, to kneel closer to Devon. “Does it still hurt? Can I...?”

  The stranger’s hand hovered by his temple, and Devon turned his face toward it instinctively, though he had no idea what the stranger was offering. He could only think of the way some of his nannies had had the knack of pain-taking, soothing a skinned knee or a head that throbbed from crying, with a touch.

  The stranger brushed a thumb across Devon’s forehead, and just like that the pain evaporated. Devon’s eyes went wide, and the stranger kept his flat hand hovering there, shielding Devon’s eyes from the bright glare.

  Oh, Devon thought, oh, please. He smiled hesitantly, and the stranger grinned.

  “And it’s too bright, isn’t it? You’re probably used to less... water, reflecting. Maybe some clouds.”

  Devon looked around then. He’d had the vague impression that they were on a boat—he must be on a boat, because he’d... he’d been in the water. He’d thrown himself into the water. He had been on the edge of drowning, and then...

  He glanced at the stranger’s chest and his strong arms, putting it together. Someone had saved him. This alpha had saved him, and brought him to...

  It wasn’t a boat, Devon realized. It was... an island? A circle of black volcanic sand, sloping gently away from an improbably perfect circular pool at the center. The sand was hot from the sun when Devon moved his hands from the exact spot where he’d been lying. All around them was nothing but water—but no waves actually crashed against the black sand. The water directly surrounding them was oddly flat and calm, and the waves somehow parted around the island without battering against it.

  But he could swear that he felt the surface under him bobbing gently up and down on the water.

  As he was trying to figure out what that meant, a cloud appeared above him. It didn’t drift across the sky to block the sun—it just formed, directly above Devon’s head. A few feet up, close enough to touch, was a perfect, miniature gray cloud, blanketing the spot where he sat like an awning blocking the sun.

  “What,” Devon said, looking up at it and then back to the stranger, who lowered his hand from slowly, giving him a look of mingled concern and excitement. Like he’d given Devon a present and was hoping Devon would like it.

  Devon looked up at the impossible little cloud again. “How... what are you?”

  The stranger got an oddly bashful look on his face and sat down on the sand beside Devon. “You can call me Lir. I’m... a personification, or patron, or... spirit...?” Lir looked at Devon sideways, sighed a little, and tried, “A god?”

  Devon blinked at him. His family had said the name of Luna, the moon goddess, on full moons and solstices and so on, ever since he could remember, but he’d never gotten the impression that Luna was real in the way that Lir was real. “A... god.”

  “Of the sea,” Lir said, nodding. “Not all of it, but this part. The part you fell into, so when you gave yourself—sorry, what’s your name? I ought to know that, since you’re mine now.”

  Devon squeezed his eyes shut as the memory came back to him, the oddly calm words he’d thought would be his last, when he realized he was going to drown. You can have me, if the moon won’t.

  He hadn’t though there would be anyone listening. He hadn’t thought...

  “I’m Devon. Devon Griffith. And you’re... a god,” Devon repeated numbly. “Of the sea.”

  Lir nodded again. “I don’t usually have land-dwellers in my domain; I have no coastline, so none of you ever stay. But you—you gave yourself to me. So I thought I’d better make a place for you. I know it’s not much yet, but if you’ll tell me what you need I can get it from one of my brothers and make it better.”

  Devon swallowed, looking around at the desolate little island. He licked his lips. “Water? Fresh water, I mean?”

  Lir nodded rapidly, gesturing to the pool at the center of the island. “I knew about that one. There’s rainwater in the pool for you there, and I can refill it as often as you have need.”

  Devon shook his head and turned onto his hands and knees, not quite trusting himself—or the ground underfoot—to go as far as standing. Lir scooted right along with him to the edge of the pool. Devon didn’t look directly at him, just hauled himself up to the basin, which looked like a huge bowl of black glass filled with perfectly clear water.

  Devon plunged his whole head into it, shaking his head underwater, and then surfaced with a gasp and began scooping up water in his hands and slurping it down. Really attractive, he thought, though he still couldn’t stop, way to look cute for the alpha you just met.

  The thought froze him, and he did have to look at Lir then.

  A god of the sea—even just part of it—certainly would have to be an alpha by some definition. Just the kind his parents would want him to snare as a mate, probably. He could almost hear his mother: Imagine the possibilities! Shipping, tourism, networking... and you’ll be in with all his brothers, too. Finding out that there were gods of the sea probably wouldn’t slow his parents down for a second.

  Even in his own head he sounded a little hysterical, but everything suddenly seemed too real, too close to the life he thought he’d escaped, and the familiar old fog crept in over everything, blotting out the blazing sun.

  This island was just the same as whatever house one of those alphas would have tucked him away in, to keep him tidily contained while they were off running a pack or business. Except he didn’t know if Lir even wanted to mate him—would a sea god understand about heats? Could a sea god even have children with a werewolf?

  Devon closed his eyes, trying to think of how to ask. “So I, uh. I gave myself to you? What... what does that mean, exactly? What are you planning to do with...” Devon swallowed, opening his eyes to look around the tiny island again. “With me?”

  “Oh,” Lir said, sounding so uncertain that Devon had to look at him again. “I... Did you not mean it, then? Did you not want...”

  Devon shrugged, glancing up to see that his little cloud had followed him—the real one that Lir had made, not the one in his head; he already knew he took that one with him everywhere. He let his eyes close, exhaustion rolling in again. He had thought he wouldn’t have to make any more decisions, wouldn’t have to answer any more questions. He didn’t know what he’d meant, or what he wanted.

  Breaking whatever bargain he’d made with Lir probably wouldn’t make anything better, even if Lir didn’t just drop him right back into the ocean to drown. He didn’t sound like he meant it that way, but Devon couldn’t really bring himself to care.

  “Whatever. It’s fine, I guess I did mean it. I just... don’t know what that’s going to mean.”

  “Well... you stay here, in my domain. And since you’re part of my domain now, I’m responsible for you. So... you just tell me what you need, so you can be happy here.”

  Devon’s shoulders jumped a little, his body jolting with an impulse to laugh that didn’t make it far enough for a real sound. “Sure. Soon as I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”

  ***

  Chapter 5

  Lir waited patiently for Devon to figure out what he wanted, but Devon didn’t say anything more, and after a while he just slid down onto the black sand, curling up small like he needed to conserve heat.

  Lir thinned the cloud over him a little, letting more sun through, and tried to think of what Devon must need.

  Food, of course. Perhaps he was lethargic from hunger? Lir would have to get him food. But what if the problem was that he was too cold?

  Things died in Lir’s domain all the time—fish, whales, plants, the tiniest living things floating in the water. But he only had one land-dweller. One Devon, who had given himself to Lir. If Devon died, another wouldn’t come along to take the niche he left vacant.

  So Lir had to take care of him, and do it right. If he let a land-dweller die after taking responsibility for him, his father might not even wait the full year
to decide that Lir was never going to learn.

  This called for desperate measures. Lir was going to have to go upstream, to his up-brother, George. He already owed George a favor for the warm current that had kept Devon from freezing in the water last night, and now he had to ask still more.

  With a last backward glance at Devon, curled up sleeping in the sand, Lir slid into the water, shedding his land-dweller form as soon as he did. He had to cross Rann’s domain to get to George’s, and here on the ridge they were almost in Rann’s territory anyway. But Lir felt his brother’s permission and swam on in the swiftest shape he could take, feeling the edgy awareness of being outside his own domain even if he was never entirely separate from it as long as he was still in the sea.

  When he reached the warm, swift currents that marked George’s domain, he called out to his big brother. George?

  “Goodness.” George appeared wearing a land-dweller shape, of course—he used his land-dweller name so much that Lir couldn’t even remember what his name had been before. Lir hastily changed his own shape to match. “I can’t remember the last time you came to visit, down-brother.”

  Lir ducked his head. George was like a warmer, friendlier version of Father North, being Lir’s upstream source. Still, Lir couldn’t help being aware of how much he owed to George, today and in general. “Sorry. I, um... my domain, you know.”

  “I don’t know as much as I’d like to,” George said, putting a big, warm hand on Lir’s shoulder. “What’s all this about suddenly needing a warm current, and asking for everyone’s plastics? Are you building yourself a—”

  George saw something on Lir’s face at that and stopped short.

  “I... I have a land-dweller,” Lir explained. “His name is Devon. I needed to make land for him quickly, without making a big eruption. And now I need... I don’t know. I don’t know what he needs, but I know he must need something. Food? And... things?”