John was no longer so sure of that. The slowly liquefying concoction was quite the most unappetizing thing he had ever had the misfortune to behold. It did not smell like fish at all.
Neridia giggled, obviously sensing his dismay. “Just try it, okay? For me?”
For the sake of putting a smile on his mate’s face, he could endure any hardship. Steeling his nerve, John took a tentative taste.
I told you so, his inner human said with infinite smugness, into the stunned silence of his mind.
Neridia burst out laughing. “Your face. Now do you see what you’ve been missing out on?”
“Griff and Chase—kept trying to convince me—“ John said indistinctly. He swallowed, clearing his mouth. “My brothers-in-arms on Alpha Team have attempted to persuade me to eat such things, many times, telling me that I could not imagine the delights that I was denying myself. I always thought they were merely teasing me. I believe I owe them a substantial apology.”
“I’ll say.” Neridia’s delight radiated down the mate bond like sunbeams through clear water. “Oh, I am going to have to take you to so many restaurants. I bet you’ve never eaten—um, John, you might want to slow down there.”
He couldn’t answer, having gone back to inhaling the incredible concoction like a starving shark. A second later, he found out the reason for the warning. A numbing pain rushed up from his mouth, as if his skull had been filled with ice.
Neridia winced, though she was still grinning. “And there’s another first for you. Your first ice cream headache. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”
“It fights back?” John eyed the remaining inch of cone with increased respect. “Truly this food is fit for a warrior.”
She was still laughing, wonderfully, as they rounded the last corner…and at last, came in sight of the sea.
The simple merriment in Neridia’s face transmuted into something into something deeper, richer. Her own ice cream fell forgotten to the ground as she walked forward, her eyes fixed on the line where sea met the sky. John had to drag her back before she stepped straight out into traffic.
He could feel the way every part of her body yearned forward, pulled by the call of the ocean. The salt-song resounded in his own soul too, but he at least had enough presence of mind to guide her safely across the road and down to the beach.
Gulls swirled in a tight spiral high over Neridia’s head, crying out in recognition, but she paid them no heed. Nor, for once, did she flinch from the wide-eyed stares of the humans they passed. All of her attention was focused entirely on the glittering water.
The waves rose higher as she approached, throwing up ecstatic plumes of white spray like handfuls of confetti. The tide dragged sea-smoothed pebbles back and forth across the beach in vast, rattling applause.
When the sea first kissed her feet in fealty, the whole ocean roared in such jubilation that John was nearly knocked flat. He could scarcely believe that even humans could fail to be deafened by the triumphant song, yet no one else on the beach reacted in the slightest.
Look! John felt like shouting, or singing. Look! A wonder is unfurling, a moment to hoard forever in your minds, a memory to be polished and treasured
all the rest of your days! Can you not see? Look!
Yet the humans continued to walk, or sit, or lie in the sun, with only the occasional curious glance at the unusually tall woman standing so still in the ocean.
It might have been minutes, or hours, or years, before Neridia turned back to him. Her face was luminous, soft with wonder. There was a new depth in her blue eyes now. Forevermore, he knew, they would reflect the sea.
“Thank you,” she said, so softly her voice was nearly lost in the murmur of the waves. “Even if—whatever else happens, thank you. For this.”
“It is my honor and my privilege.” He went to one knee in the surf, bowing his head. “My Empress.”
Something flashed in her sea-struck eyes, too quickly for him to follow. She looked out at the horizon again, but her expression was guarded, no longer lost in awe.
“I still don’t think I can shift.” She hugged herself, her shoulders tensing. “The sea is, well, more than I could have possibly imagined, but…I’m still just me.”
His inner human swore. If she can’t do it even now…oh, we are so screwed.
“John, what if I can’t ever do it?” Neridia said, unwittingly echoing his human. “If I can’t shift, if I can’t go to Atlantis, what will we do?“
“You will shift,” he said firmly, forcing down the disappointment swelling in his own heart. He cast around for some glimmer of hope to offer her. “Perhaps…perhaps you are just too self-conscious at the moment. There are many humans present, after all.”
Neridia blinked, looking around the crowded beach as if only just noticing the people all around them. “Um. Maybe it’s just as well I didn’t shift.”
“We mythic shifters cannot be seen by mundane eyes unless we will it. But I know that you do not enjoy attracting attention. Perhaps your subconscious fears that humans will see your true majesty.” John rose to his feet again. “We should return later, after dark, when the beach is empty.”
Neridia looked happier, strangely, as though this was a stay of execution rather than an aggravating delay. “Okay. So what do you want to do until then?”