Page 65 of Guarded By the Vodnik

The vodnik society differed from most others in that regard.

“They are so tall,” Zoe whispered as we swam between two outermost apartment buildings, one lit bright pink, the other purple. “Oh, and each level has an entrance from the outside, right, because y’all can swim. So there’s no need for stairs or elevators.”

“That’s right. Now, this is a bit different from human hierarchy,” I explained, pointing at the higher levels of the closest apartment building.

A group of vodniks hovered by the entrance of the top-most apartment, talking loudly, their voice sacks glowing green and blue. A group of kids did cartwheels nearby, laughing like crazy, until the smallest one, who looked to be around three, got tangled in her own tentacles and began crying. A woman pulled away from the group of adults and caught the girl, helping her untangle herself while talking rapidly and pointing at the other children.

“The apartments at the top are the smallest. The towers grow slimmer with height, so the places at the top are the cheapest. The lower down a tower you live, the more expensive the place, until the very bottom. Those who live on the lowest level have access to dry space.”

“What do you mean?” Zoe asked without looking at me, her eyes glued to a colorful flower shop we passed, bright, luminescent blossoms spilling out through the shopping window on one of the middle levels.

I stopped, an outrageous thought making me smile. I’d never bought anyone flowers before.

“Like the safehouse,” I explained. “There are bunkers under every tower. Everyone who lives on the bottom floor has a whole another level to themselves. Hang on.”

I left her outside the flower shop, hanging onto a rail, while I bought a rich, purple and blue bioluminescent flower that could be worn as a bracelet. The blossom was huge, the petals thick and fleshy.

“For you,” I said, putting it around Zoe’s wrist.

She gaped at it for a few long moments, her lips parted, before she looked up at me with a huge smile.

“It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever got,” she said seriously. “Thank you.”

My heart thudded with happiness. “I’ll get you a new one every day.”

But Zoe didn’t listen to me. Her eyes were wide and trained on the building opposite us. When I looked, I immediately knew why she was so shocked.

A mixed couple swam out of a middle-level apartment, a vodnik woman and a human man who wore a suit just like Zoe’s, except, without a mask. His face was bare, and he smiled at the woman, who I suspected was his wife. They held hands, and he swam using the slim, graceful flippers humans usually wore in Yeseera.

Zoe sidled up closer and whispered in my ear, “Did he also get some special juice to breathe underwater?”

I snorted, picking her up to swim away so I could explain. We got closer to the center, passing taller, brighter buildings. The passages between them were wide, but the city was busy. It was evening on a Friday night, and people swarmed the all-night cafes and dry space nightclubs that played human music and served cigarettes. Lots of vodniks were smokers, many smoking shanta as a recreational drug. Apart from its medical properties, shanta tasted good and helped us relax.

“Yes, he got a special juice, most likely from his vodnik partner,” I said.

“Uh. She’s most likely a woman. I saw her tits, and they are very pretty, by the way.”

I nodded, grinning. “Yours are the prettiest. But it’s funny you should mention that. Vodnik females produce the mate adaptation cocktail in their mammary glands. Though, I don’t think he has to drink it anymore. After a prolonged exposure, the effects stick long-term. I think it takes up to three months for a full adaptation to occur.”

Zoe was silent, her lips moving behind the mask as her eyes wandered, sliding over a bright commercial building that housed mostly restaurants and shops, and then moving over to the nearest shanta tower.

“I didn’t understand anything from what you just said,” she said slowly. “Apart from the fact that guy… drank something from her breasts? Like breastmilk? Vodyan, what’s going on?”

She pointed at a group of people, three vodniks and two humans, also without masks. Mixed couples were a relative rarity, but we got here at a time when most people were out. Vodnik culture was very outdoorsy, regulated by the rhythms of city life. After all, we weren’t servants to the weather.

I glanced at the shanta tower, a narrow spire whose entire length was covered with faint-pink plants that glittered delicately, and stopped in place, checking my watch.

“I’ll tell you everything. But let’s wait here, because shanta brushing will start in about five minutes, and I want you to see it.”

Zoe rubbed the side of her head, like she was trying to physically rearrange all the information I gave her so it would fit in her brain.

“Okay, I won’t ask you what shanta brushing is since I’ll see it in five minutes. But please, for the love of all that’s holy, explain the tit sucking.”

An elderly vodnik shot us an outraged look as she passed by, her eyes glinting blue. I grinned, and she swam off with an offended grunt.

“Remember how I said all vodniks are actually human-vodnik hybrids?” I asked.

“I… Maybe? It was at a kind of intense moment. But yeah. You did mention that.”

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