Page 47 of Where the Current Takes Him
The Koame-Valhn porch should not have surprised Beau, yet there he stood, staring slack-jawed at the display before him. A cluster of cheerful garden gnomes in lurid Hawaiian shirts stood guard to the left of the front door. To the right, a flower box boasted purple pansies and pink tulips. A plastic lawn flamingo had been jammed into the potting soil, and a crocheted lei hung around its neck.
“This is…” Beau struggled to find an appropriate adjective. “Colorful.”
Loriun snorted. “Myjaeihas tried every hobby under the sun and myriueputs up with it. She says as long as he’s happy, she’s happy.”
“Well that’s nice at least.”
Loriun’s scarlet-tipped fingers curled around the handle and tugged the front door open without knocking. A loud gasp echoed down the hall.
“Fauos,Fauos. They’rehere,” a feminine voice hissed.
Loriun grimaced as Beau clapped a hand to his mouth to stifle the giggle rising in his chest. The Mer reached for Beau’s hand, took a steadying breath, and led him inside.
The home had clearly been made with Mer comfort in mind. The floor was a fascinating arrangement of asymmetrical flagstones, but where there should have been grout, shallow streams of water ran. The air in the home was cool and damp, and the walls had sheets of water cascading from subtle openings along the ceiling. Little purple plants sprouted here and there from narrow planters in the baseboards.
“Wow,” Beau whispered. “This is beautiful.”
Loriun glanced at him, a soft smile dancing on his lips. “I suppose it is.”
“Loriun,noa’yasi!” An unfamiliar female Mer in a flowing white kaftan rounded the corner with her arms spread wide. Zicoi was nearly as tall as Loriun, with scales ranging from deepest maroon to dusty rose. There was a familiar shade of red accenting her fingertips and fins as she threw her arms around her son.
“Viuo capiue poeinha,”Zicoi said, pulling back to scan Loriun’s face. “It’s been too long.”
Loriun tugged Beau closer. “Riue, I’d like you to meet Beau, my mate.”
Zicoi’s head snapped back. “Mate?”
Worry creased Beau’s forehead. Apparently their mating was so quick that even Mer were shocked. He peeked up at Loriun. His ear fins flattened to his skull, something Beau was starting to think meant embarrassment.
There was a beat of silence before a wide grin split Zicoi’s face. “Well, Beau, it is lovely to meet you. Welcome to the family.”
Beau sagged against Loriun in relief as a small, russet-scaled male emerged into the hallway. Fauos wore a loose tunic and relaxed smile. He inclined his head at Beau. “It’s good to see you again, Beau. It seems congratulations are in order.”
Fauos reached out and took one of Beau’s and one of Loriun’s hands. “I cannot express how happy I am to hear that you have become mates. This is truly a joyous time in all of our lives.”
“Thank you,jaei,” Loriun murmured.
Beau hoped a smile would suffice because he had no idea how to respond without sounding like a particularly uneducated buffalo.
“Come, come,” Zicoi said, dashing an arm across her eyes. “Let’s go to the dining room. Your sister is here, too. Making something called alfalfa?”
“It’s falafel!” a third voice yelled.
Loriun grinned and shouted back, “Are you going to poison us with another strange human dish, Oiwen?”
“That wasonetime!”
The four of them entered the kitchen, where a tall, slim female Mer was standing hunched over the stove. The markings along her spine peeked out from under a cropped t-shirt. They looked like Loriun’s, but in a shade of electric blue. They stood in stark contrast to the deep indigo scales that covered her back.
As they neared, Oiwen shot Beau a glance over her shoulder. “Hey, sorry, give me just a few seconds. If I take my eyes off these, they’ll burn.”
“Totally understand,” Beau assured her.
Her hair was long and curly, like her older brother’s, but in a shade of magenta. Her ear fins were flared in concentration, edged with more of that shocking blue. Several silver hoops pierced the delicate membrane.
Despite her very alien appearance, Oiwen also seemed more human than the average Mer. The piercings, the crop top, even a pair of modified denim shorts laced around her tail.
In a sudden flurry of movement, Oiwen scooped her balls of falafel from the pan and safely onto a plate. She switched the flame off and turned to face Beau.
