Flint

A gentle rainfall reaches my ears, pulling me from the dream world. I blink twice, adjusting my eyes. I reach out with my mind to ensure we're safe. It's become a habit ever since that loathsome Patercius reentered our lives.

"Ness?"

The mattress is empty. I shake my head, smiling as I locate her spirit amongst a throng of others. A slight echo of pan flutes carries on the breeze. The wind ruffles the canopy over our stone hut, and sunlight is beginning to filter through the brightly-coloured tarp. It casts shadows of reds and blues, akin to stained glass.

I pull on my trousers and tunic, shaking my head with distaste at the awkwardness of my archaic thoughts. The humans had given me funny glances in the airport when they'd politely asked us where we were headed. I'd replied in kind, telling them we were off to visit some old acquaintances in the mountains.

How strange that must've sounded. A teenager and a thirty-something young woman, holding hands and travelling alone to a foreign country, does raise a few questions. I'd quickly headed to the washroom and locked myself in a stall, focusing on the passport the Lìog Airgid had given me. It belonged to one of the Lycans and I had completely forgotten to alter my appearance to match the twenty-nine-year-old in the photograph so Nessie and I could fly without issue.

As soon as we'd touched down in Peru and were away from prying eyes, I Shifted back to my familiar sixteen-year-old features. Nessie decided to transform as well. Her lively brunette locks had darkened to ebony and her cheekbones became more rounded. Her tall figure shrunk nearly two hands, giving the spirit the appearance of a beautiful young Incan girl, approximately my age.

"This is how me first incarnation appeared," she'd informed me proudly. "I shall be using this form quite often, I do think." I'd grinned, pulling her close and telling her, "You are beautiful in any shape or form."

I pull back the woven material and blink at the sun in my eyes. A sudden spiritual energy surprises me and I pause, wary of its approach.

Ha. Just a llama.

Nessie had told me that llamas roam free in the mountains, even throughout the tourist-infested ruins of Machu Picchu.

The llama stops and stares at me with heavy-lidded eyes and then lowers its head, nibbling grass with its elongated lips.

I project a calming feeling into the llama's mind, adding, <Hello there. I'm Greg. I think I'll call you...Leopold.>

The llama raises his head again, blowing air through his nostrils as if mocking my naming choice. A wad of grass hangs lopsided from his churning jaws and then plops unceremoniously onto the ground.

Drops of water patter upon my skin, but the feeling is welcome. The warm climate is different from what I'm used to, and the clouds are a welcome sight. Being Welsh again in this life, my exceptionally pale skin leads to bigtime sunburns.

The air is clearer here, though quite a bit thinner at such elevations. We are nearly three-thousand feet above sea level, Nessie had informed me. "An' ye better get used tae it. Can't have the Serpientes seein' ye sick." The Loch Ness Monster had subsequently handed me a mug of coca tea for "el mal de altura." I haven't yet felt this 'sickness of altitude', though it has been a bit difficult to breathe. And not just 'cause the scenery is bloody breathtaking.

Peru is a mix of Spanish and Quechua, the native language of the Incas. I understand Spanish due to one of my past lives but don't yet speak any Quechua. Nessie speaks both languages fluently and has provided me with a constant supply of translations and explanations, some of which were incorrect just to fool with me. She hasn't changed a bit.

I reach out as I pass Leopold the llama and he promptly turns his back on me, intent on inhaling the entire hillside. I shrug and make my way down to the lower terraces where the Serpientes are already gathering. Despite their love for the Amazon river and the distant sea, Nessie's serpents reside in mountain temples, not too far from Machu Picchu. The ruins are tourist hotspots, but once you get farther east, the fog can conceal nearly anything. The ancient terraces – used for growing crops of corn and potatoes – are slowly sinking, so we must remain in human form to avoid speeding up the process with the added weight of shapeshifting into something else.

"Khunpa!" a male voice calls out.

I raise my eyebrows, glancing at Nessie as I approach the half-circle of Serpientes. A few of them are waving at me.

"It means friend in Quechua," the Loch Ness Monster discloses in her familiar Scottish accent. "Mornin', by the way. This is Tuco. Leader of the Serpientes."

She gestures towards the tallest of the young men. He's still an inch or two shorter than I. Peruvians are naturally smaller than Europeans; they're built for life in the Andes mountains.

"Tuco, aquí está Nwyfre Flint, uno de los Guardianes," she says in Spanish for the benefit of us both. "El dragn."

Tuco nods at me, grinning. "Anchatam kusikusani riqsisuspayki," he greets solemnly in what must be Quechua.

I reply with what I gauge to be the Spanish equivalent. "Encantado."

His dusky skin glows with the faint mist that blankets the terraces. He pushes a lock of shoulder-length ebony hair behind an ear, switching his gaze back towards Nessie in anticipation.

"We were plannin' on headin' out tae the river this morning. Care tae join us?" the Loch Ness Monster asks enthusiastically.

"Before breakfast?"

The spirit chuckles. "No, fool. For breakfast. Have ye ever tried tambaqui?"

"Can't say I have," I mumble, slightly irritated at her delight at knowing more than I do.

She grins, displaying jagged ivories. "You shall see. O'er the last couple centuries, ye showed me yer culture an' what you hold dear. Now it is my turn."

The six Serpientes begin to strip down, plastering their clothes upon the rocks. They glance past the final rows of terraces where fog gathers, blanketing the foot of the mountain. It appears as if we're upon an island in the sky.

I reach out with my mind, attempting to seek the mouth of the river. It goes on and on forever, eventually blending with the Amazon.

"Onwards, serpents!" Nessie calls out. She adds a few more words in Quechua.

I'll understand someday. What's another language, when you've got fifty-two already under your belt?

To my relief, my love clarifies for me. "We are headed for the river Madre de Dios. Mother of God."

"Mother of God, it must be a treacherous tributary."

The spirit rolls her eyes, beckoning to me with a sly smile. I break into a jog, following the rowdy spirits as they disappear into the fog. I instinctively send my palm alight with flames, and Nessie grabs my wrist. I raise my eyes to hers and she shakes her head.

"Trust the mist, Ddraig. No fire here."

I flinch as I pass through the curtain of thick vapor, my only reprieve being the earth's energy I discern beneath us. Otherwise it'd feel like leaping to our deaths. Mother of God forbid.

***

I gasp at the feeling of the cool liquid on my skin, the slick weeds flailing gently against my toes.

"Come, khunpa!" Tuco calls, his form beginning to ripple with the Shift. Within seconds, the young man's copper skin has altered to shiny moss-coloured scales. His face has grown and elongated into a reptilian snout and his eyes are now the size of softballs. They blink at me, teasing.

"Afraid of the water, O Great Dragon?" Nessie chuckles.

I grin. "'Course not. Just of what's in it."

The Loch Ness Monster cackles, dipping into the water with her palm and sending a splash my way.

"Reminds me. Keep yer mind open for itty bitty spirits. There are wee fishies that tend tae swim up places ye didn't know ye had."

"Those I have heard of," I mumble with a gulp, eyeing the water for any such parasites.

I extend my awareness to encompass the entire river. To my revulsion, the body of water is chock-full of those itty bitty spirits, some of them a few inches in length.

"Try not tae think about it!" Nessie says cheerfully. "If it bites ye, kill it with fire!"

The Earth spirit is jesting, but I wince at her words nonetheless. Hopefully I won't have to resort to that. I take a deep breath and descend into the Mother of God. Mo chreach. That was one awkward sentence.

When I emerge, I boast emerald scales. I raise a webbed appendage and curl my elegant serpentine neck to admire its beauty. These feet were made for swimming.

Realizing Nessie and her followers have already left me behind, I swim into the middle of the river and begin pumping my flippers against the current. It takes a few minutes to get the hang of it; the last time I'd used sea monster form was sixteen years ago, in my last life.

It was also the last time I'd felt truly free. Free to fly and swim in the depths of the forests and rivers with my favourite being in the world, the great Yacumama. Mother of the Water.

She is aptly named, I muse. The grace she demonstrates within her element of choice has no match.

By the time I finally catch up with the half-dozen enthusiastic Serpientes, one of them has already caught a tambaqui. Turns out, it's a large type of fish. He gobbles it down like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and then proceeds to disappear beneath the murky water.

<'Tis natural, Nwyfre,> Nessie informs me when she catches my disgruntled stare at the muddy liquid around us. <The river floods amongst the trees every year, an' brings with it the dirt and mud. These rivers are never clear, an' the animals have evolved tae rely on sound rather than sight.>

<Glad I have a sixth sense, then. Wouldn't want one of those itty bitties to sneak up on me and swim up my—>

<It's not the wee ones ye have tae worry about in this case,> she says with the mental equivalent of a chuckle.

<Wha— Aaah! What the bloody hell is that?!>

I release a squeal of surprise, causing the nearby serpents to turn and raise their heads above the water. They begin to laugh at me in their strange reptilian way.

<That,> Nessie informs me, <is a boto. Naught tae worry—>

<It's pink and naked!> I blurt.

The creature – approximately two meters in length – appears slimy and rose-coloured. I backpedal as it welcomes itself into my personal space, clearly curious. Its tiny eyes are glossy and primal, like some kind of dinosaur.

<So were you, once.> The green-scaled spirit cocks her head at me, her jaw curling up into an awkward serpentine smile. <Botos are river dolphins,> she explains, sinking into the water.

I attempt to keep one eye on the boto and one on Nessie. Soon, a swath of pink skin – the same colour as the dolphin's – emerges. A spurt of water sprays me from Nessie's blowhole, and her dolphin face emerges from the river. Her long jaw widens to exhibit hundreds of small, peculiar teeth.

<Thar she blows.> I laugh. <You always surprise me, Ness.>

<What is life without surprises? Now switch tae boto form an' let's find us a tambaqui. Dolphins hunt using sound. Keep on sending out echoes and wait for them to return tae ye. That way ye'll be able tae pinpoint the fish's location.>

I nod my reptilian head, turning towards the boto and attempting to mimic its shape. <Easier said than done, I suppose.>

<Depends on yer point of view,> she replies. <And yer patience. I've become quite good at it o'er the centuries.>

That you have, love. And no matter how long the wait, I will always return to you.