CHAPTERTEN
MELODI
There is no more conversation, no more jokes or swimming lessons, only a desperation to get to the next village. Or rather, a ship graveyard.
Instead of colorful, glowing buildings made from giant coral and shells, this place was created from debris and wreckage from my world.
I don’t think about how many people died on these ships, or what happened to their bodies. I don’t think at all. I keep my mind shut off as we swim toward one of the repurposed ships. It is cracked in half, the masthead pointing upward and a door has been built into the side.
Ari goes ahead, securing one room from the innkeeper. When he’s done, he leads us up to the third story to our room.
As haunting as the building appeared on the outside, the room itself feels new, rebuilt from wood that is neither malformed nor decaying.
The men talk quietly in the corner while I take in the space, eager to rid my mind of the graphic images from earlier. To focus on literally anything else besides the hopeless, empty eyes of a dying boy who reminded me far too much of my sister.
Rose was soft, too. And she, too, was murdered at the whim of a monster, though I suspect Mother’s motives were more about control than senseless violence. Not that the two are mutually exclusive, not for her, not for anyone.
I take a deep breath, finding that inhaling the sea water serves to be just as calming as inhaling air on land. In, then out, focusing on the things I can see.
Polished sandstone floors and gleaming furniture line the room. Open windows have been carved into the hull, offering a stunning view of mountains and underwater volcanoes in the distance.
A giant pearlescent clamshell rests against the main wall filled with pillows and thin blankets. It’s surrounded by long pieces of seaweed—like drapes or curtains and reminds me of the mosquito netting we use on the island.
As soon as I sit down on the sea-sponge mattress, every ounce of exhaustion comes crashing in at once. How long has it been since I slept? Or ate? Or had anything to drink?
How do people hydrate down here?My stomach rumbles, and Napo appears with more seaweed—red this time. I smile down at him, taking the proffered snack. He pats my head approvingly.
I’m already bracing myself for how disgusting it will be, but I take a bite anyway. There aren’t a lot of other choices at the moment. Much to my surprise, and relief, it isn’t nearly as bad as before. I take another bite and a sweet, peppery flavor glides over my tongue.
It warms me from the inside out. With just two bites, my hunger abates and my thirst is satiated.
“You need to go.” Ari’s words are louder now, pulling my attention back to the warriors.
His expression is resigned, his arms folded across his chest in a closed off stance as he addresses his cousin. Both of their moods have been markedly worse since the incident earlier.
All three of ours, actually.
My fingers begin moving of their own accord, twisting and braiding and knotting the remaining seaweed in my hands. Napo slides up next to me, bubbles floating from the many movements of his tentacles. He is eyeing me curiously, but not necessarily disdainfully, so I take it as a sign that I can continue.
“So Kala there can poison you in your sleep?” Kane attempts to smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.
Though his tone is joking, it’s clear that he genuinely mistrusts me. And perhaps it’s a fair point. If I were either of my sisters, I probably would have already devised a plan to both escape and kill my captors.
Fortunately, that last thought is protected behind my mental shields. Hopefully.
“You know she can’t,” Ari responds quietly.
Kane runs a hand through his pale pink locks. “No matter…who she is, she is still a danger to you.”
Who I am?
It’s not the first time they’ve referenced whatever level of importance I hold, then there were the people in the village. Though I fail to see how that would stop me from harming Ari.
If I’m such an important prisoner, though, why do I only have two guards? Two men against a sea of unrest doesn’t seem like such a wise choice. Then again, what do I really know of the politics here? Still, questions race through my mind as my fingers weave the seaweed into a familiar pattern.
“I can handle myself,” Ari says with no small amount of exasperation.
“I’m not worried about you handling yourself,” Kane bites back, not bothering to keep his voice down. “I’m worried about you handlingher. Just remember what’s at stake here.”