Cove rinsed his mouth with sea water as he watched the masts of the Goodwin vanish beneath the waves. The Tidewraith finished her meal and swam away, and swarms of sharks and lesser predators moved in to claim the leftovers. The crew of the Goodwin transferred to the Henson. Uncle Petrov introduced the men and women to their new vessel. At the same time, Cove, Dax, Sera, and their brattiraptor companions began the kilometer-long journey to the cavern.

On the bow, Pipster coached two of his children, chatting away and mimicking the conversation between Cove, Dax, and Sera.

Cove watched the Henson shrink behind Sera as Dax and he pulled oars. “Do you remember—”

“Yes,” sighed Sera. “Do you want to stop again and show me where to go?”

“Sorry. All I can see is the Henson, waves, and your breasts. My shoulder still hurts from the last time Dax hit me.”

“I would not punish you if you did not leer.”

“Leer? She is my sister!”

“Only because she fears your lecherous gaze.”

Sera giggled, leered at Dax, drew her fingers along her cleavage, and ran a hungry tongue over her lips. “Let him admire the merchandise in the window.”

“Woman!”

Sera blew Dax a kiss and said, “You are my beloved, not my owner. I am a free woman. This is my body. If I want to display my teats and glory, I will, and you cannot stop me. I do not want to be Cove’s mate; he understands my limits. Besides, given the howls and cries from every veiled corner, Keeva and he are satisfied.”

Cove laughed. He punched Dax’s shoulder and said, “I have her blessing to look.”

Dax massaged his upper arm as he said, “You do not have my permission—”

“I'm not your property,” Sera said, blowing him a raspberry kiss.

“Woman!”

“Yes?”

“You have declared yourself to me, and I to you.”

“You, my friend, are in Heim,” Cove said with a dry chuckle. “The rules here are different. You must be assigned as mates, or nothing else matters. Even if you could bribe the right officials to get you designated as a couple, a foreigner would never be given a family or breeding license.”

Sera sighed and looked toward the broken peaks, “Worse, I’m a mage. They’ll never allow me to conceive an unauthorized child, and if I did, the baby would be slaughtered in the womb. All we can do, within the law, is live together and love each other.”

Dax growled. He looked to Cove as he said, “Are you not beneath the same blade?”

“Yes,” said Cove. “I would have been murdered if my mother had not been a goddess.”

“And your unborn son?”

“He has been under a death sentence from conception.”

An uncomfortable silence, broken only by the creaks of the oarlocks and the measured breathing of Cove and Dax as they worked, settled over the seas.

Above, the sun peeked from behind Mater, signaling the end of Gods’ Week. Over the next twenty days, the tropical Demon Squalls, erratic winds cursed by sailors, mountaineers, aeronauts, and gardeners, would blow the bitter cold away.

Sera said, “I see the cavern entrance but not Kee and the rest.”

“Keekee is smart. She would have gotten the family out of the water as soon as it was safe.”

“But where…” Sera’s voice faded. She pointed toward an ancient, crumbling roadway cut halfway down the cliff face. A slow chuckle filled her as she said, “How in the nine hells did she get everyone up there with all our bicycles, trailers, gear, AND two hadrosaurs?”

With raw admiration, Cove smiled, shrugged, and said, “She’s a Threig Blessed Educator.”

“What does being a teacher have to do with….” Sera’s lips formed an open-mouthed O.

All teachers were taught to manage small groups of people, especially those with the energy and mischievousness of youth. Yet, Threig Blessed Educators were the best of the best, the top one-quarter of one percent of all educators worldwide. A monument and decorative garden commemorated one centuries-old legend of Professor Terrance Ramzy at the University of Heim. It told how the venerable Threig Blessed Educator dealt with a thousand enraged students vandalizing the gardens and grounds in retribution for a forgotten slight. Against the fervent pleas of his colleagues, he had walked into the riot with measured and time-worn steps and begun to talk about flowers, shrubs, and trees. When the Riddere arrived, his class was engaged in an ad-hoc horticulture lab, smiling and almost dancing as they repaired the damage.

“Okay,” Sera said, “But how did she get up there? How do we catch up with her?”

Both Dax and Cove glanced over their shoulders and cursed.

“Your woman is insane,” Dax said, his head shaking and his eyes fixed on Sera. “I entered Heim on that broken road. The Hochstraße is unsuitable for bicycles and beasts.”

Cove nodded. “I can not speak for the Milch und Honig side of the trail, but I rode the Heim half of the Hochstraße with Missha.” His heart filled with nostalgia and concern. The abandoned road belted the Nebelgruft Peaks, tracing an epoch-old waterline driven kilometers above the sea billions of years ago as tectonic plates crashed. Once, it connected forgotten towns and villages, now deserted archeological sites. In places, the route was a joy to ride; it was smooth, even, and well-graded, swept clean by the winds and washed by rains. Yet those wonderful, long curving stretches, perfect for racing, often ended at an avalanche or lost bridge. You could round a corner at twenty or thirty kilometers per hour, and the road would be gone, ending in a shear cliff or collapsed tunnel. He’d treasured the adventure and solitude for weeks, just Missha and himself. Still, the Hochstraße was not a path for novices.

They chatted and debated as they rowed. Cove's gaze flitted halfway up the sheer side of the mountain, and knots formed in Cove as his family struggled against the growing gales high above. The stumps of ancient guardrails were all the safeguards that remained and afforded no protection from the ever-increasing and erratic winds. One misstep and someone he loved would fall to their death.

Darkness closed around them as they entered the cavern. A scene of devastation materialized as they inserted Azure pellets into their lanterns, and their vision adapted. The smooth floor and domed ceiling had exchanged places. Once, beautiful frescoes and carved faces had been ripped away and scattered amongst the wreckage. Titanic claw marks in the walls and the rotting corpse of an adolescent Tidewraith left little doubt about the origin of the small mountains of rocks and boulders. The peace and beauty of his mother's Temple had been desecrated and reduced to a rubble-strewn cavern.

They tied the tender to the remains of the dock and stepped to shore. Desperate silence, broken by skittering feet and lapping waves, thickened the air as Cove and Dax unloaded heavy packs, lanterns, a fat-tired cart, and chunks of Azure. Cove donned his glowing luminaegis armor while Dax and Sera loaded.

Everyone stared, silent, as they slipped on their black cycling shorts and shoes.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Three mounds of rock, several meters long and two wide and tall, caught Cove’s attention. He paced forward, hesitant and cautious as he neared. His eyes scanned the foremost stack and fixed upon a flat stone engraved in Keeva’s decorative script. He stumbled to his knees, and his eyes filled with tears as he read:

Here lies the body of Gisa Moons Leibide,

Goddess of the Sea,

Defender of Her Family,

Daughter of Feardorcha Leibide, God of the Woodlands,

and

Wasserlyn Leibide, Goddess of Rivers and Flowing Waters.

Murdered by Heim the Destroyer.

Cove collapsed over the grave of his mother. He buried his head inside his arms. He shuddered. Tears rained from his face and streamed across the stones of his mother’s memorial.

Pipster licked Cove’s ear, hopped from his shoulder, and sniffed around the mound. He was hunting and poking his head into gaps between rocks.

Cove was anguished as he moved to the second and third gravestones. Keeva was safe; Sera had seen her but didn’t know if his daughters were unharmed. Now he knew they lived.

Here lies the body of Feardorcha Leibide

God of the Woodlands

Hero of Castlianova

Husband of Wasserlyn

Defender of his Family

Murdered by Heim the Destroyer

Next to the grave of his grandfather, mentor, and friend lay another legend.

Here lies the body of Wasserlyn Leibide

Goddess of the Rivers and Flowing Waters

Hero of Castlianova

Wife of Feardorcha Leibide

Protector of her Granddaughters

Murdered by Heim the Destroyer

In less than a month, Cove had discovered and lost his mother and grandparents. His heart wanted to shatter. He yearned to cry until his desiccated corpse crumbled over his mother’s grave.

Coveland Nocht pushed himself to his feet, coughed, and rubbed his swollen eyes dry. Four names were absent from this subterranean graveyard, and they needed him. He turned and found Dax and Sera face to face, holding hands, heads bowed respectfully, and eyes closed. Their brattiraptor companions sat on their shoulders. “Pipster, where are you?”

“Here,” Pipster said as he crawled out of a hole in the side of Ferdorcha’s mound, embracing a forest-green orb. His eyes were brilliant and glossy, checking his path without losing sight of his precious cargo. He set it next to two similar spheres, one teal, the other the deep blue of a storm-swept sea, all bright and vibrant.

Cove asked, “What are those?”

“Souls,” said Pipster. His hand moved over each sphere, his voice pricking Cove’s wounded heart by imitating the voices of the lost as he said, “Fear, Lyn, and mother of Cove.”

“Lad,” whispered Gretta, “you need to store those before the air does any more damage.”

Cove nodded, inserted two fingers between his wrist and his family band, and said, “Open.” It opened, exposing a black void. He placed a gentle kiss on the spheres and pushed them inside.

“There is one more,” Dax said as he pointed towards the road leaving the cavern.

Cove closed his bracelet, lifted Pipster to his shoulder, and began walking as he said, "Thank you, Pipster."

"Keeva made stone nests for friend Long Claw and his hatchlings."

Stretched out next to the entrance were dozens of gravestones side by side along the wall. Cove recognized one name, Long Claw, and another sphere upon his rock. It was dark red, almost a dull black. He picked up and nearly dropped the orb. It was cold and slimy. "Is it still alive?"

"Ye could drop that into the abyss, pull it out a million years later, and the soul would still live," said Gretta. "Connecting it to a new body would be nigh on impossible."

"And the spirit inside?"

"Ye would na care about this one."

"Why? Who is it?"

"That, lad, is Johnathan, the Betrayer."

"Argh! Why would I want that thing? I should toss it into the bottom of the ocean. Hells, I can entomb him in stone. Let him be part of the mountain for the next hundred eons."

"Boy," sighed Grettaluna, "that'd be grand unless someone digs the git up. Then it would take some water, the proper biomass, and a touch of Elystria to return him."

"Then I'll crush him—”

"Boy, if it were that simple, they'd have crunched the lot ages ago. If ya somehow shatter the crystal, the nanobots will rebuild it. Only melting them works, and ya need a volcano to do it.”

“If all you need is extreme heat, why not a blast furnace, forge, or nuclear power plant?”

“They’ve been tried, Laddie.”

“And?”

I don’t understand the physics; maybe you can figure it out, but when ye superheat a core, it explodes.”

“There must be a way to contain the detonation.”

“Laddie, Charles VonGault, and a dozen of his mates grew bored of living several eons ago and jumped into the Abominatio volcano. The explosion cracked open the magma chamber, destroyed a country, and left behind the Abominatio Caldera.”

“I am not storing that terrorist with my mother and grandparents!”

“Why not? They don’t interact, so he won’t give them cooties.”

“Cooties,” Cove stammered, “is that some type of nanobot disease?”

Sera snickered and said, “Really? I know something the Omniscient Professor doesn’t?”

“Sera…,” Cove said, wiping tears with one hand while the other trembled as he attempted to crush Johnathan’s core.

“Let her have her fun, lad.”

“I also wish to learn of these cooties. Are they dangerous?”

Sera giggled before gasping, sobering, and saying, “I apologize, Cove. I never knew my parents or grandparents, but I’ve lost friends…”

“Thank you, but I want to know what to do with this slimy ball of curdled Eastern Fish Sauce.”

“Put him in my family bracelet,” said Sera.

“Your band? Does it open?”

“It should,” Sera said. “Lady Amelia didn’t know how Sera or I would choose. Plus, all of us have a teacher in our bracelet.”

“Would it bother you, having the soul of this jerk, this sleazy crate of hadrosaur manure in your wrist?”

“Johnathan was a lecherous rectal wart,” said Sera, “but he was Keeva’s biological father.”

“It takes a dedicated mom and dad to create a woman as magnificent as Kee; any male could have made Johnathan’s donation.”

“Untrue,” Dax said, “Keeva was blessed with wonderful parents and a loving family but got her potent gift from Johnathan.”

Cove nodded. This would delay the issue and not resolve the question of what to do with Johnathan. Yet he needed time to gain wisdom and understanding. He slipped a finger between Sera’s wrist and her Bonding Bracelet and paused as he looked into her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Open.”

A slit appeared in the titanium band, and two leaves separated. Cove inserted Johnathan’s Core and said, “Close.” The doors closed, and the seam vanished.

Sera rubbed the skin under her armband as she said, “That is so weird. Where did Johnathan go?”

“He’s in the ninth circle of hell, Lass,” said Greta. “His naked ass is frozen in the devil’s lake until his judgment day.”

Cove huffed, and the hint of a smile touched his lips. “That is a picture I can live with. Let's go find our family.