Playing Koi (10) (Patreon)

Jemma nestled closer to Liam, her tail stretched all the way out along the mossy bed. Glowing fungus illuminated the private space with a diffuse blue, a little like the light of dawn through the window. Jemma hadn't seen the sun in months, of course—but the aquarium lights almost looked like sun, from the right angle.

She didn't want to stir. One move and Liam would wake, and they would have to get up and work again. 

Jemma closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of Liam's breathing. He hadn't filled the hole Kisten had left. Together, they'd made something new. Something different—not magical, no sorceress had crafted this. 

Jemma was living with a fish. She was his, just as Kisten had once been hers. If this transformation had taught her anything, it was the appeal of not caring for someone else. Liam had never been human—he had no grasp of the world outside. He could never leave this tank. 

Maybe she didn't care.

Something banged overhead, hollow and echoing on their coral door. Liam sat up, rolling sideways to look at her. "Was that…"

The sound came again, louder and more urgent this time.

She flushed, covering her chest. "You want me to—"

He sat up, eyes still heavy with sleep. "Stay here, Jemma. I'll see who it is." He pushed off the bed, tail lethargic with sleep. He picked up a cloth wrap near the door, slipping it over his torso as he swam.

But Jemma was already slipping out of bed, her mind alert despite the early hour. She swam to the wardrobe, eyeing the growing collecting of clothes there. Most were made from seaweed, but a few were spun from pale cloth—an innovation that Thetria never developed. 

She slipped one over her head—a simple blouse, long enough to extend to where skin ended and tail began, with little buttons of polished wood down the middle. Not supportive for fast swimming, but she wasn't going out on salvage duty today.

The door swung open. A guard poked through the opening, wearing the makeshift armor of someone on duty. "Caspian? Something wrong?"

He floated through the opening, resting the crossbow over his shoulder. This was Liam's younger brother, so one of the first to benefit from Jemma's inventions. "Everything's fine, but… captain thought your mate might be able to help." 

Jemma swam up to meet him, a few quick strokes through the water. The world spun briefly as she did so, and she nearly lost the contents of her stomach.

She gripped her belly with both hands, swaying. It's all in my head. Fish don't get morning sickness. They're not even babies.

Jemma swam forward, resting one hand on Liam's shoulder. "I'm here. What's up?" 

He glanced back in her direction, saw the shirt, then relaxed.

Caspian nudged the door shut with his tail, lowering his voice. Whispering didn't work quite the same underwater—almost nothing could prevent words from being overheard.

"We've apprehended a fish sneaking through the wall. Little thing, about your size. Wondered if he needed help, maybe he was someone's guppy or whatever, but… he wouldn't answer. Had a few tools on him no one could identify. When he refused to talk to us, we realized he must be a goldfish."

Goldfish. That would make sense—someone smart enough to see the wall and get through it, and who might be carrying tools others wouldn't recognize. Kisten's magic. 

"Everyone knows that you spent time in Thetria," Caspian went on. "Captain Marlin thinks that you might be able to help."

Jemma nodded. "I probably can. I'm not sure what a goldfish would be doing outside Thetria. I would think some new human had fallen in the aquarium, but the mall still isn't open." 

She glanced at Liam, then back at Caspian. "I can go now. I'll be able to translate for him." Would Kisten send someone else into danger to deliver a message? 

Liam spun on her, resting one hand on her shoulder. He glanced down at her belly, making the blouse protrude a short distance. "Are you sure you're well enough?"

She waved off his worry, even as another surge of nausea threatened to overwhelm her. "I'm fine, Liam. Really." She turned back to Caspian. "Lead the way."

They swam together up the narrow passages of the crags, then up into the broad tank of Algaegard. This early in the morning, there were few fish out yet—a few guards, and some early morning merchants setting up their stalls near the town's rocky center. Jemma nodded to some, while pretending not to notice others. 

Then they were at the border, where a bunker of sturdy marine cement faced against the wall. Several ballistas protruded from narrow gaps like urchin spines. Watchful fish floated behind each one, ready to defend Algaegard at the slightest sign of danger. 

Caspian led the way, twisting the narrow metal door until it opened wide enough for them to swim inside. They passed around a curved ramp, with several spines pointing at them as they went. Any one could be dropped to block the path, and would be if they swam too quickly. This defense would not be breached easily, even by the strongest fish.

Then they reached the bottom, and swam past the several chambers of Algaegard's “jail.”

Crime was little known here, and likewise the prison had little to contain. The occasional idiot who ate too much fermented paste at the festival, or former mates arguing about the distribution of their shared assets.

For more serious crimes, there was only one punishment: banishment. That near-certain death sentence meant that criminals were rare indeed. Who wanted to risk being eaten alive?

That only made the sight inside the first holding cell more absurd. There in the center sat a goldfish child, stripped of weapons or any other possessions, his little fins shifting nervously in place without movement. He kept calm inside the cell, clearly recognizing what it was and making no effort to escape. He knew a jail when he saw one.

He also knew her. Arlo jerked upright as she swam past the bars, darting over to them and reaching for her. His gesture made no sound, but even so a grizzled old surgeonfish smacked the bars, loudly. "Don't try anything, prisoner. Back off."

Fish might think goldfish were too stupid to speak—but Arlo clearly wasn't. He reacted instantly, lowering his hand from the bars and retreating back into the cage, fins falling limp and expression dark. 

Anyone but you! Of all the goldfish to swim out of their city, did it have to be the one she'd fled in the first place? Without Arlo, Jemma might still be living in Thetria with Kisten, oblivious to whatever else had transpired during her time alone in the aquarium.

Marlin straightened from beside the cell. His eyes flicked to her belly, then to Liam floating beside her. He held out a hand. "Jemma. Thanks for swimming out so early. We're… not sure what to do with him. Bit of a loss, really. He had weapons, but no clothing. Snuck in like a barbarian, but he surrendered without a fight." He shook his head once, flicking his tail at the bars. 

"History tells us goldfish are dumber than snails. Even predators can tell you why they'll eat you alive. I'm not sure if this one is just not cooperating, or…"

Jemma shook her head once. "I'm glad you called for me. Goldfish aren't stupid. They speak in sign. Also, I… know him. Let me in." 

She floated past Marlin, or tried. She made it to the cell door before Liam caught her wrist, stopping her. "He's from outside. Could try to hurt you—"

She rolled her eyes. "That fish's name is Arlo. He's Kisten’s youngest son. We're basically family. Besides, he’s like, twelve? He’s not going to hurt me.”

At her words, the little goldfish surged forward again, though he didn't quite reach the bars. Finally Jemma was close enough to watch him, and understand what he was trying to say. 

"Jemma! Why'd they lock me up? I didn't hurt any fish on my way in. Didn't use any magic, neither. Could've." He twisted one arm, showing off the tattoos running from his fingers all the way to his shoulders. Each one had runes, written in a familiar handwriting. More of Kisten's work.

Jemma should've recognized those marks, and their purpose. Instead, they blurred in her mind, meaning lost to study she'd never done. Thanks to the sorceress, Jemma didn't have to cheat to use magic, like her girlfriend. She wouldn't need enchantments, magical tools, or other aids.

There was always something more important to do. She could learn tomorrow, or the tomorrow after that.

"They don't know what you're doing here," she replied, avoiding his eyes. The goldfish wasn't a toddler anymore. A few months outside Thetria had turned into a decade for the goldfish. "I don't either. What are you doing here, Arlo? What does your mother think?"

The bars were annoying, requiring far greater focus to view and understand what the fish on the other side was trying to say. "Mom didn't say anything," he said, swimming in a nervous little circle. "She's not doing good, Jemma. Ever since you…" He slumped low in the water, tail dragging along the cell floor. "Blames herself for you leaving. Afraid she got you eaten by barbarians."

He perked up, grinning eagerly. "Now that I've seen you, I can send a message! What do you think I should say? You're ready to go back with me?" He rested one hand over his arm, touching up against a few of the tattoos in sequence. They started glowing, lighting up his arm with pale yellow light.

None of the fish reacted. Can they not see it? Jemma glanced over her shoulder at Liam, who watched the two of them with blank-faced confusion. "You getting something from this?"

Jemma nodded, then turned back. "Don't tell her that, Arlo! I'm not going!"

Marlin nudged her tail with his, expression concerned. "Miss Jemma. Are you well? Seems like… he hasn't said anything."

"Out loud," she said, exasperated. "It's sign language. Very… complicated to explain. But he's talking to me."

Marlin folded both arms, eyes narrowing. "If he can understand you, tell him to swim over to the corner with the coral."

Of course the goldfish in the cell looked out like she'd punched him in the face. He dropped his hand, letting the other arm stop glowing. The spell fizzled out without effect, and the little goldfish sagged to the floor.

Jemma lowered her voice, whispering sideways to Marlin. "Captain, he can understand you fine. I can't speak his language, but he can understand ours. I would tell him the same way you do."

"Why won't you come home, Jemma?" Arlo asked, expression dark. "Mom… she hasn't been the same since you left. If anything happens to you, I don't think she'll get better. It's not safe for you to live out here, with all these…" He gestured at the fish around her. "Barbarians. Dressing you up in costumes and locking fish in cages. Come back to Thetria with me!" His eyes went wide, and his words came through cracked and broken with tears.

She floated down to his eye level, reaching through the bars towards him. Jemma didn't owe this kid anything—he shouldn't even exist. Kisten's betrayal had somehow followed her all the way to Algaegard.

She couldn't just turn off her feelings. Arlo's face looked a lot like Kisten's. He had her gray eyes, a crop of the same bright red hair, and the same freckles all down his body. His fingers twitched nervously back and forth, reaching for the tattoos she'd written under his skin. Turning her back on him wasn't just hard, it was impossible.

"I have a life here now, Arlo," she said. "This fish here, this is Liam, my mate. We're expecting." She rested both hands on her belly, smiling nervously at him. "We're going to have them here, not Thetria. Kisten's perfect nation doesn't need me, but Algaegard does."

He swam closer to the bars, kicking little clouds of silt off the stone floor as he went. Finally he stopped beside the bars, reaching through them towards her. This time Marlin didn't stop him, and she took his small hand in hers and squeezed.

"What about Mom?" he squeaked. Not a whisper exactly, though Jemma still felt it at a similar low volume. "If anything happens to you, she might…"

Jemma shook her head once. "Your mom's grown up. She can understand that sometimes people have to be apart. One day I'll see her again, but I don't think it will be for a long time." She released his hand, then looked up. 

"How hard would it be to get this fish an escort back to the goldfish tank? We should send him back."

Marlin frowned, scratching his chin. "Best to wait for the next salvage mission out that way. Special mission for that… just won't happen. You'll have to talk to the mayor about when the next one is scheduled. Another few months."

Arlo snatched her wrist through the bars again, making Jemma look at him. He floated up, expression turning hard. "Don't bother. If you won't go home, then… I'm staying."

Liam floated up as Jemma did, looking between the two again. "You can understand him." He ran one hand through her hair, the other gently around her shoulder. "It's bad news, isn't it?"

Jemma didn't reply—not to him, anyway. "Algaegard isn't safe, Arlo. Sure, we take in refugees. If you can work, you can live here. But we're attacked sometimes. Predators get through. There are problems here—we don't have magic."

Each word only made him look more confident. He reached across his chest to the other arm, tapping out a faint pattern there. The symbols glowed again, and this time the light lingered.

Jemma watched each one in turn, trying to trace a meaning. Like his mom, Arlo was just too fast. Jemma couldn't read the spell, or the words he sent with it.

"He's asking for… asylum?" Marlin finally asked. "Pardon, I can only get some of that. That's how it sounded."

"No," she began.

"Yes!" Arlo bobbed up and down by the bars. The glow faded from his arm, and his face was now only resolved. "I want asylum in your primitive city! I want to wear silly costumes and live without magic all the time even though it would be so easy to fix everything with spells. I want to live in a city with an open gate anyone can just swim through without being transformed. I wanna stay."

He folded his arms, glancing at Jemma. "If you're staying, I'm staying. I have to make sure you're safe."

The kid wanted to keep her safe. Of course he did, that made sense.

"No?" Marlin repeated. "I… don't have a clue what he just said. But he looks confident about it. Didn't act anything like this until you got here."

I could lie. Get him sent back that way. Arlo could try writing messages, but there were only a handful of literate fish in the city. Every one of them was attached to Jemma somehow—Brady, Nicole, and now Liam. 

She glared through the bars at the goldfish. It would be so easy to fix this mess before it even began—just keep him locked up until they could drag him back to Thetria, and send him home to his mother.

But that face staring back at her through the bars—she saw Kisten grinning back at her, or her male reflection. 

"He wants to join," she groaned. "He's willing to work. To do whatever it takes." He thinks he's protecting me, but if I let anything happen to him while he's here…

"Mayor never turns a fish down," Marlin said. "Not if they can work. But they have to be able to do something, or able to learn. How are we supposed to use a goldfish? He can't even talk."

"I can!" He bobbed up and down in front of the metal bars, tail curling up in front of him, then dropping back down again. "I can sign! And I can write! It's not my fault no fish here talks right."

"He'll…" Jemma squeezed one hand into a fist. This is exactly what I wanted to get away from. Without Liam, she might've agreed to go back with him, just to make the silliness end. Kisten's Hail Mary was five months too late. "I can understand him. Others could learn too, with practice. I'll take him as an apprentice at the workshop. I'll need the extra help anyway, the closer I get to delivery."

"We already have help," Liam said. "Nicole can already service valves, drive the combine… we don't need more."

"I can use him," Jemma said, a little louder. "It won't take as long as it did to teach Nicole. If I know Kisten, she already taught him everything. Arlo, what did your mom teach you?"

"Uh…" He swam back and forth in the water. "Algebra, composition, logic, runecraft, rhetoric, calculus, biology…"

Jemma held out her hand, silencing him. It might not be a word in his language, but it was still just as effective. "See, Liam? He'll do great."

Her mate nudged her with his tail, leaning closer to her ear. "No, I don't. I have no idea what he said."

"We'll make him some flashcards," Jemma said, exasperated. "You need the practice with reading anyway. It'll be fine." She turned away from the prisoner. "When the mayor asks, tell her I'll vouch for the kid. And… take care of him. The orphanage doesn't need to worry about a goldfish."

"That should win her over," Marlin said, nodding confidently. "Whatever he said must've been convincing."

"He's my… nephew," she said flatly. "Besides, what's one more? About to have… a dozen? Two?"

"If we're lucky," Liam said. "My mom had sixteen. But we're different fish, so… might be fewer. The ocean decides."