He didn’t answer immediately; they’d just reached the edge of Earon’s pontoons, and needed to slow.
Some strange occurrences. Three Baroons and a Gerk have gone missing, and there have been disturbances on the Sacred Isle.
His eyes widened, nostrils flaring. In a world that was predominantly water, the one and only section of land was protected and off-limits to everyone except the Keepers.
Cucreamer and wood are missing. The rationing systems have been thrown out, so we’ve had to redistribute. The vote found the Gerks will receive less.
Talina’s pulse raced as panic threaded through her mind. Who would risk the wrath of the gods by stealing from the Sacred Isle? She pushed that terrifying thought aside to focus on the caste system which she despised.
Why is it always the Gerks who are treated like lesser Spurns? They are no different. Hair color should not dictate status for life.
Raror shrugged.
Talina knew that while he sympathized with her point of view, he failed to understand why she was so soft-hearted. The way the majority of other Spurns had treated her had resulted in her possessing an unparalleled empathy. But the castes were a part of life on Spurn. The Gerks, or Grays, were mostly found in positions of servitude. They controlled less territory, and had less power and status. It had always been that way.
They dodged the pontoon pets, cat- and dog-fish swimming lazily in the waters surrounding their family home. Talina gave a quick pat to Toto, her favorite little friend, whilst keeping an eye out for Earon’s guardian, Chamandia. The large water dragon had never liked her, and since just one touch of its scales or breath of its venom would find you writhing in agony for days, it was worth the vigilance.
In sync, brother and sister surfaced. Talina sucked in a deep breath. This was the fastest way to activate their interior respiratory valve to switch from gills to lungs. Unlike other Spurns, she found this a more comfortable state.
Instead of moving forward she stared in dismay toward their floating pontoon. Returning home was never a pleasant experience.
As Gladriel was head of Earon, their dwelling was the most lavish in this quadrant. Constructed out of the trees that grew on the Sacred Isle, the timber slats were layered over each other, and the pontoon had small decks off each level.
The clans were granted a certain quota of the lagoona trees. The leaders then divided this between the individual families. So it was no surprise that Gladriel’s house was three stories of floating opulence. Talina’s room was at the top, in keeping with her low family status. Only those of high standing scored a room near the water. Behind their home were low rows of tethered pontoons, spreading as far as the eye could see. The emerald flags of Earon swayed lazily in the cooling breezes. The majority of their community lived here, with just a few lone Spurns scattered throughout the quadrant.
Raror was already at the edge. Talina watched as his lithe muscles rippled, and he shot himself up out of the water and onto the higher decking, a feat her weaker body had no chance of achieving. He lowered the ladder for her to climb. With a sigh, Talina grabbed the bottom rung and pulled herself up. As she climbed, the fine webbings between her fingers disappeared, and each digit emerged. She was the only Spurn whose webbing completely disappeared when out of the water. Her long emerald hair trailed behind her, but unlike the pure color of the other Earons, Talina’s was flecked with black throughout.
According to Gladriel, this was courtesy of her unknown father, who was not of Spurn. They’d had a brief affair before he disappeared, never to be seen again. Spurns rarely stayed in long-term relationships; they tended to have mating seasons, and then moved on.
Raror reached down, and hooked Talina under the arms, dragging her onto the middle decking – his level.
“Gladriel has requested us downstairs, Talli.” Raror spoke aloud, his lispy voice courtesy of the Spurns’ tongue structure and vocal cords, something she also lacked.
Talina groaned and hung her head. “I just need one day without her constant disapproval.”
Raror pulled her into a tight hug; she shivered slightly against his skin. It was always so much colder than her own, but she appreciated his gesture. Spurns were not normally a demonstrative people.
“Come, we might as well find out what she wants. Get it over with.” He clasped her hand and led her downstairs.
Talina kept her head lowered, not making eye contact with any of the Earons scattered throughout her mother’s vast quarters.
“Nice to see you, Raror my son.” Gladriel, shifted in her bright pink coralline chair, a living entity made by microscopic sea creatures that continued to grow even outside the ocean.
Gladriel lifted her emerald hair over one shoulder; it was free-flowing down to her knees, as any good ruler’s would be. Then Gladriel turned her cold yellow eyes toward Talina.