Page 23 of Rainse
The world tilted. My eyes drifted closed.
When I forced them open again, the sun had moved. An hour? Two? I couldn't tell.
But Rainse was still breathing. Slower now. Steadier.
I checked the coconut poultices—they'd dried out, crusted to his skin. But underneath, the welts looked better. Less angry. The greenskin had stopped its erratic pulsing.
Relief hit me so hard I started crying.
Stupid. Unprofessional. But I couldn't stop.
I'd saved him. The alien who'd saved me. We were even now.
Except it didn't feel even. It felt like something else entirely—something I wasn't ready to name.
I rested my forehead against his shoulder and let myself shake apart, just for a moment. Then I pulled myself together, checked his vitals again, and settled in to wait for him to wake up.
"You're going to owe me so much fish," I told him. "And an explanation for why you thought swimming into a jellyfish swarm was a good idea. And possibly a foot rub, because my legs are never going to forgive me for this."
His greenskin flickered—just once—and I chose to believe he'd heard me.
His skin felt warm under my hands. Too warm. I put a hand on his chest, hoping that he had a heart - and in the same place as mine. It was thumping rapidly. Was that normal for a finman or not? There was no way to know.
“You’re not dying on me,” I said firmly. “Not after I just saved you. I need you to wake up so we can celebrate that I returned the favour. I'm no damsel in distress. I'm a heroine.”
Still no answer. I swallowed hard and leaned down until I could feel his breath against my cheek — shallow, but regular.
“Good,” I whispered. “Stay that way.”
A cold shiver ran over my back, and I realised that I was still wearing the wet oversized T-shirt. Where had Rainse put the clothes I’d worn when he’d fished me from the sea? I found them laid out to dry on a large flat rock. They were hard with salt, but they would do. This had to be the first time in all my life that I was glad to put on a bra. It gave me safety. Protection. Having my own clothes back felt good.
I sat next to Rainse, staring out onto the ocean, hoping for... What? A sign? One of his brothers?
If Rainse died, I wouldn't last long by myself. This tiny island wouldn't sustain me for long. But... that wasn't the only reason I didn't want him to die. I rested my hand on his chest again and closed my eyes, focusing on his heartbeat vibrating against my skin.
I didn't want him to die because...
No. I wouldn't even think it.
9
Rainse
The water was black in every direction, heavy and endless. I floated in the dark, listening for a current that wasn’t there. No sound. No song. Just silence.
Then came the voices — the Matriarchs, cold and certain. “You are not chosen.” Their words had always sounded like judgement wrapped in ritual. “You have fought too fiercely. Argued too often. The sea remembers anger.”
I tried to speak, to beg, but the words tangled in the water. I reached for my brothers, but they were already fading into the distance, swimming toward light while I sank deeper into black.
The silence pressed against me until it became pain. You are unworthy.
The words echoed until they dissolved into something softer — a hum, a rhythm. The dark water warmed, light spreading from somewhere close. The silence became breath.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Finfolkaheem. I was on the islet. The sun was low, gold spilling over the sea like molten glass. She was there, sitting on the shore with her knees drawn to her chest, hair tangled by wind, eyes bright against the light. She turned toward me and smiled — a small, real smile, one that reached all the way to her eyes.
“You’re awake, my love,” she said.
I blinked. The sea and the dream blurred together. The line between what had been and what could be vanished like foam.
