Beneath the Thirteen Moons by Kathryne Kennedy

them. A phoenix burst from the water, its feathers gleaming scarlet fire that consumed it into a drizzle of rain. A skulker formed and opened its huge maw, closing onto the bow in a shower of exploding light.
    She dropped his hand but he wouldn’t let go. His mouth, that full bottom lip, hung slightly open and when he pulled her against him she could feel the hammering in his chest. His skin sparkled with reflected light…
    “You’re just like your swamp,” he breathed. “Beautiful—and dangerous.”
    Her lips sought his of their own accord and he responded, but too tenderly, beyond a mere physical desire, and Mahri almost melted against that unexpected onslaught of affection. Then she froze in sudden terror. He pulled his lips from hers but still held her tightly. “What is it?”
    “Look behind you.”
    He glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
    Mahri let the water fall back into the channel with a sudden splash. She couldn’t be sure what scared her the most; that look on his face or the natives that watched them from the bank. “Don’t you see them?”
    Korl turned, kept his arm around her waist. “I don’t see anything but the blackness of the trees.”
    “But they’re standing right there!”
    Natives lined the stream, watched them from no more than a stone’s throw away, and they wore clothes just like the speaker in her dream, and nodded in obvious pleasure at the couple on the boat. Jaja had turned his attention to them also, waving in their direction as they passed.
    Mahri Pushed against the black wall surrounding her mind that she’d so welcomed earlier, until a bare crack split it open. And she could hear them like the barest of whispers. Don’t see us, we’re not here, don’t notice us, look elsewhere…
    Korl put his hands against her cheeks and turned her face to his. “Are you all right?”
    “You can’t see them,” she choked, “because they don’t want you to. That’s why they live among us and we don’t even question their existence. Because they don’t want us to.”
    His forehead crinkled and he frowned at her, the curls at the edges of his mouth now faint lines. “What’re you talking about?”
    “Don’t you get it? They can manipulate our thoughts, make us see what they want.” Mahri poked his chest with her finger. “They’re making you fall in love with me.”
    Korl gripped her shoulders. “Who?”
    Mahri pointed at the line of fur-scaled bodies. “The natives, of course!”
    Korl raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth tipped dangerously upward. “And why would the natives want me to fall in love with you?”
    “Because,” said Mahri with exasperation, “They want me to help you rule.”
    He threw back his head and howled with laughter. “You?” he sputtered, “Help me to…” More laughter choked him. “A water-rat?”
    She pushed him away and he fell to the deck, holding his stomach, still howling idiotically. Mahri faced the line of watchers and shook her fist at them. “I can see your thoughts,” she yelled. “As easily as I can see you. I won’t be manipulated, do you hear me?” And she roiled the water and the boat shot past them with a spray that drenched those not quick enough to dart back.
    Mahri plunged them through the maze of passages, hoping she sped towards her village but just wanting to get away from them . Her craft bucked and tipped, for she could still hear the Royal chuckling and didn’t care if he was thrown overboard or not. Jaja held on and whooped with delight, his fanned tail whipping like a banner, the fresh deluge of night rain not bothering him in the least.
    They narrowly escaped two low-lying limbs when Korl pulled himself together enough to stagger to her side. “Water-rat,” he shouted into the wind. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at you.”
    The Power sang in her limbs and Mahri spurred the boat faster. The bow soared upward and Korl grabbed her waist with his hands to keep from tumbling