On that world of three moons, the tides were always high, but when a 3-moon flow coincided with the worst seastorm in living memory...
She opened her eyes, slowly, painfully, and raised a hand to her head. There, under her hair, she could feel the lump where her head had collided with the rock. The skin wasn't broken, but no doubt there'd be a bruise for a while.
She lay back for a moment, gathering her energy, then pulled herself a little more upright and glanced at her body, moving with care, shifting slightly to see how hurt she was. Nothing torn or broken, though she felt as though she'd been caught in a riptide and battered against a breakwater. She swallowed, then looked around her.
The three moons were no longer in alignment. Mother moon was at the full, a large, friendly face high above, flooding the pale beach with silver light; Son moon was setting on the horizon, painting a shimmering path across the tranquil sea, while Daughter moon was no longer visible in the sky. And she was lying where the storm had thrown her, in a rock pool far up the beach, close to the high water mark and the scrubby grass that marked the start of the landlivers' domain. And the sea....
The sea, she saw with sinking heart, was too far away. And ebbing as she watched. She was lost, and alone, with no way of returning home.
Beauday slammed the door shut with unusual force and took off at a gallop along the cliff, knowing that he had to get out or run the risk of half-murdering his partner.
Doyaal didn't like wilderness worlds. He didn't like 'babysitting' jobs. And he definitely didn't like babysitting jobs on wilderness worlds six and a half lightyears from the nearest civilised planet. As he had said, over and over and over again until Beauday was ready to strangle him.
It wouldn't have been so bad, the heavy reflected to himself as the sea breeze swept his mane and tail back in the direction of the safehouse, if they'd been sent to Grosth or Wropta: those worlds really were the pits. But Sseelaz was actually a beautiful place, mostly water of course, and those tides were something else, but it had a restfulness about it, a profound serenity that was a balm to the soul. Most of the time, anyway - last night's storm had been a rare exception.
He raced on through the moonlit night, feeling peace flow over and through him, gradually slowing to an easy canter as he reached the lower hills bordering a beach of silver sand. By the time his hooves sank into the sand he had put Doyaal's annoyance behind him and was revelling in the elemental joy of simply being alive...
He walked along the sand, breathing deeply, head flung back and arms wide, every sense stretched to the full. The faint sound of the sea, almost invisibly far away now that high tide was past, reached him on the breeze that whispered across the sands: a faint scent of salt and ozone and the grassy aroma of the hills swirled around him: the bright moon cast soft shadows across the softly shifting sand. And then he heard it - a faint splash from what appeared to be a large rock pool far ahead. A fish, perhaps? Certainly an opportunity to wade for a while, feel water against his skin again. It had been so long since he'd been swimming...
He headed for the pool at an easy walk.
She saw him from a distance, a thing of shadows and moonlight, pacing fluidly towards the pool in which she was stranded, the breeze whipping his mane and tail into a frothing play of jet and silver. Mesmerised, she watched him, a creature from a dream - until she suddenly realised he was heading her way. And there was nowhere to hide...
Beauday frowned, focussing on the pool. It was difficult to see from this distance, with the moonlight reflecting on the water, but he could have sworn he saw movement. He broke into a comfortable trot, keeping his eyes on the pool - and then slowed to a halt, his eyes widening.
A face stared back at him, peering over the rocks at the pool margin. A pearl-pale face, with high cheekbones, delicate features, the deep seagreen eyes wide and frightened. A face crowned by hair spun from mist and seafoam. A face that most surely did not belong in a rock pool.
He approached cautiously, keeping his hands in full view, and knelt down before he reached the water, trying to make himself as small as possible - and trying to remember his galactispeke. There was no guarantee she'd understand it, of course. But he had to try something.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
The eyes widened further. The heavy tried a tentative smile.
"I'm Beauday."
"Lutra."
Her voice was surprisingly low, with a soft underthrob - waves beating on a distant shore. Relieved to be understood, he relaxed a little.
"Are you well, Lutra?"
She lowered her eyes, shaking her head slightly.
"May I help you?"
Her gaze turned towards the sea, now just a thin sparkling line on the horizon, yearning clear in her expressive face.
"You want to get back to the sea?"
She nodded, hopelessness plain in her eyes. The heavy frowned. Perhaps she had a seacraft of some kind at anchor there.
"Well, it's a long way, but it shouldn't take you that long to walk. You'd certainly reach it before morning."
She gazed at him for a long moment, then sighed.
"Not walk."
"No?"
"No."
Beauday sighed. Well, it was a long way. And he'd already travelled a fair distance tonight, and he still had to get back. But she was beautiful, and in distress...
"I'll take you."
She stared at him, eyes wide with shock.
"You would this do? For a stranger?"
Beauday smiled. "Well, probably not for just any stranger..."
He rose and reached a hand to help her out of the pool, but she shook her head.
"Cannot."
As he watched, she lay back on the water, a slender female shape whose pearly skin gradually changed to pearly scales down the length of her sleek, lacy-finned tail.
Beauday's jaw dropped. He'd heard of them, of course - who hadn't? - but had believed, along with everyone else, that they were just a myth. Well, that explained why she couldn't get back to the sea...
He shook his head, bringing his attention back to the present.
"How did you get here?"
She waved one delicate, web-fingered hand towards the distant sea.
"Storm. I came too close - disobeyed elders. Tide took me." She touched her temple, the beginnings of a rueful smile on her lips. "Hit head - slept too long and tide ebbed..."
"... and you were stuck here." Beauday nodded understandingly. "OK - I'd better come in to you, then."
The water reached his withers, making it easy for her to glide onto his back and slide graceful arms around his chest. He glanced back over his shoulder.
"Hold on..."
He clambered out of the pool, easily adjusting to her slight weight. She sat slightly sideways to avoid pressing her spined dorsal fin against him, and wrapped her tail lightly under his belly to help her balance. Beauday paused on the sand.
"I'm going to canter. If you feel yourself slipping, or you want me to stop, just tap me, OK?"
She nodded and pressed herself closer against his back, breathing in the smoky, woody scent of his mane - an alien, entrancing fragrance - and held him tight. Five trotting steps and the heavy broke into a smooth easy pace...
She would never forget that ride. The breeze swept through his mane and her hair, mingling midnight and moonlight, and under his silky pelt his muscles moved with effortlessly sinuous power. She rubbed her cheek against the smooth, pale skin of his shoulder and stroked at the satiny skin under her hands, feeling the sleek, sculpted strength of his broad chest under her fingers, wondering at the beauty and potency of him, determined to forget nothing...
It ended far too soon, of course. Such things always do. Beauday reached the still-receding shoreline and slowed smoothly to a walk, wading into the tranquil sea. He halted when the water lapped over his back, and took one of Lutra's hands. Reluctantly, she slipped from his back and swam round to face him, drinking in his face. He gazed down into her eyes, smiling.
"OK?"
She nodded, smiling sadly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
It was, she noted incuriously, almost impossible to tear herself away. Fortunately the decision was made for her.
"Beauday?" The voice was made faint by distance, but Doyaal was very fast, and never more so than when anxious for his partner. His golden form, brushed with silver by the moonlight, could be seen through the sand he kicked up in his race for the sea.
Lutra took once glance and tugged on Beauday's hand.
"Please - keep secret."
The heavy searched her apprehensive face, and smiled.
"Of course. I won't say a word."
Relief clear on her face she wrapped her arms around his powerful frame, burying her hands in the silkiness of his mane, kissed him, very lightly, then turned and swam for deeper water...
"What you staring at?"
Beauday glanced sideways at his partner. "Just enjoying the sea air."
Doyaal snorted, but refrained from commenting. He laid a hand on the heavy's flank.
"Look, I'm sorry about earlier."
Beauday grinned. "It's OK. I'm used to you by now."
"Yeah, I know. Still shouldn't take it out on you, though. Promise I'll keep me moans to meself for the rest of the case."
"I'll believe that when I hear it - or rather, when I don't!"
Doyaal chuckled. "Point taken. Let's get back. Anything happen while you were out here?"
Beauday glanced back over his shoulder, to where he could just make out Lutra's head above the waves, sadly watching him walk away. He flashed her a swift, intimate smile, then turned to his partner.
"Not a thing..."
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