Chapter 2 – Madiyan
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I scanned the bay with my binoculars, again. There wasn’t much out there to see, just a couple of fishing trawlers slowly dragging their nets, and a stretch of sullen seawater beyond them. I spent a minute watching a crew bringing their catch aboard, spotting the long body of one lamia girl among the men who were hauling at the net. A leathery cape of folded wings revealed her tribe, even at this distance, though I could have guessed anyway. Melusine like being on the water, and they crew most of the archipelago’s boats. The cold and wet don’t seem to bother them much.
I wiped moisture from my face, tasting brine. Wisps of rain were still drifting across the water and wandering inland to the village. Beneath me, waves slapped and fussed under the pier, rocking the tethered boats to scrape against their pilings. Except for mine the working piers were deserted. So was the beach that climbed up to the fishery buildings that huddled around the bay. Even with the glasses, I couldn’t see any signs of life in the streets, just a lone curl of colored lights that reminded me that a few of this island’s men do celebrate Christmas.
Looking back to the sea, I spotted a splash of white against the grey horizon. The binoculars quickly identified a boat, one of the oversized skiffs that the lamias favor for transport between the islands, pushing inshore through the whitecaps.
That was what I had been looking for.
Tucking the binoculars inside my raincoat, I walked back up the wet planks to an open-fronted shelter that overlooked the pier. Electric warmth brushed my face as I leaned in. From the farthest corner, crimson eyes peered back at me.
“Well?”
“Just spotted them inbound. Probably ten minutes or so before they dock.”
“Good. Come in out of the rain.”
“It’s not really raining anymore.”
“I don’t care.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Madiyan eyed me as I joined her under the shelter. The black-scaled medusa was coiled under one of the radiant panels, professional in her business skirt and waterproof jacket, plekti pulled back in a snug green headscarf. This was an official function, after all.
“You don’t really feel the weather, do you, Mark?”
“I’m dressed for it. But I wouldn’t care to be out on the water today. I hope the new doctor doesn’t get seasick easily.”
“We’re fortunate to get him here at all. The village has gone too long without a dedicated medic.”
“Agreed.” We’d been leaning on first aid and half-trained nurses since Dr. Aemilia’s arrest and banishment. Lamias seldom need the care of a doctor, but the men do. “Where’d you find him, anyway?”
“Dr. al-Ahzar is a graduate from Ain Shams Medical School,” she recited, “with high marks in internal medicine and obstetrics. Five year’s residency in Cairo, then quit to take a year of cross-training in extraspecies biology. He was being recruited by As-Salam International when we approached him.”
“Quite a resume. Is that why he rates a formal welcome by the Chairwoman’s “Special Assistant?”
“Yes. Along with her newest associate.”
“Hey, none of that. I don’t mind acting as your interpreter, but I’m not signing up with your shop.”
“No?” Madiyan arched a precise eyebrow. “You know how valuable your skills would be to my team.”
“I’m still retired, Maddie.” I shrugged away the subject. “Speaking of new recruits, how’s the wiggly one? I haven’t been to the nursery to see her lately.”
That brought an instant smile. “Nyssa’s growing like a worm. And crawling all over the place. She’s beautiful.”
“Takes after her mother, then.”
She laughed. “More than her father, at any rate.”
“Thank goodness for that.”
She glanced past me, toward the bay, and uncoiled herself. “I suppose we should go.”
“It’s about that time.”
I stepped back into the cool scents of salt and seaweed, allowed Madiyan to pass, then followed as she crawled down to the docks. The skiff was easily visible now as it crossed the bay toward us.
We stopped halfway down the pier and positioned ourselves to greet the arrivals. Training my binoculars on the boat and its occupants, I focused on the male figure sitting upright in the stern. Youngish, with dark hair, medium build, and a respectable amount of beard. Dark suit with an overcoat that was ill-suited for rough weather in an open boat. He must have been soaked through, but he wasn’t flinching from the cold splashes.
“Hmm. That’s odd.”
“What’s that?
“He’s still wearing pants.”
Madiyan stifled a giggle. “True, our sailors are not known for their restraint.”
“He must have a will of iron. Or a crippling terror of snakes.”
“You don’t seriously think…?”
“You never know. He could have a reptile dysfunction.”
“Uggh. Grandmother is corrupting you.”
“Well, she’s certainly making an effort.”
We watched the skiff bounce across the last meters of choppy water. The engine rattled as the skipper throttled down, then skillfully drifted her craft up to the dock. I stepped toward and caught the rope thrown by the deckhand, and tied off the bow as she secured the stern. The Melusine girl allowed me a quick, tight smile, then turned away to hoist their passenger’s luggage.
The younger man grasped my offered hand and stepped confidently from the rocking boat onto the pier. The cold morning’s travel from the capital hadn’t weakened his grip any.
“Salam alaykum, Doctor. I hope your voyage has been a pleasant one?”
Dark eyes widened, and the beard split into the grateful smile of a traveler who hears his native tongue among foreigners. “Wa alaykum assalam! Are you of the faithful?”
“No, sir. But I have spent many months among them.” No sense in mentioning where or why. “This is Special Assistant Madiyan, here to welcome you.”
I stepped back, and she slid forward with a polished smile. “Greetings, Doctor al-Azhar. On behalf of the Chairwoman’s Office, please allow me to welcome you to our Medusa Island.” She used the colloquial name for the island, to my relief. “We are thankful that you have come.”
I translated from Krataiic, and al-Azhar lowered his eyes and spoke rapidly. “I am grateful to be taken on for the position, Miss Madiyan. And to be on dry land again! But I apologize for bringing the unpleasant weather along with me.”
“Without rain, there can be no life. But we should bring you to shelter. Mark?” I nodded, and, waving to the Melusine crew as they cast off from the dock, I reached for the doctor’s suitcases. He allowed me to take the smaller of the two, which was fine. Madiyan moved smoothly up the pier and onto the unpaved road that would take us into town. The doctor and I and the luggage followed behind. Al-Ahzar gazed into the trees on either side, picked carefully around puddles on the path, looking anywhere but at Madiyan as her serpentine body carved a curving track in the mud ahead of us.
She spoke over her shoulder. “It is rare for a married man to come to our country, Doctor. Will your wife be joining us also?”
I glanced down at his hand, and translated her comment.
Dr. al-Azhar didn’t sigh, and his expression didn’t change at all. “My wife returned to Allah last year, after an illness. I wear this ring to remind myself that she waits for me.”
It was a graceful lie, and maybe he believed the words sometimes – no doubt he’d spoken them often – but he didn’t need reminding about a dead wife. I guessed there was rawness beneath the simple gold band, that wasn’t ready to heal yet. It hinted at a grief that might goad a young doctor to abandon his human homeland and come live among the lamias.
Madiyan responded solemnly. “I am truly sorry. We appreciate the pain of losing a valued mate. With your permission, I will announce your period of grieving, and that your abstinence is to be respected.”
The doctor’s look of pained relief told me a lot about the day he’d spent in the Lamia capital, and an awkward boat ride with the Melusine sailors. “As you think best. Thank you very much.”
We moved wordlessly for a while, quieted by the weather and the barriers of language and species. Until the doctor leaned close to me, and whispered in Arabic.
“Your boss seems very mature for her youth.”
I grinned back at him. “She’s not my boss. Although she might argue that. I just enjoy being useful when I can.”
Al-Ahzar pondered that for a moment. “You are not her husband?”
My laughter drew a suspicious glare from Madiyan. “Well, that’s complicated. I’m sort of everybody’s husband. I’ll try to explain as we go. First of all, you need to know about the weekly community meetings…”
Rain-heavy cypress trees hedged the road, enclosing us with a gentle scent of pine. The three of us walked between the evergreens, avoiding the worst of the mud, and began introducing Dr. al-Ahzar to his new home.
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Nice, glad to see a continuation! This one is more like a chapter too. Good to have you back!