“What are you looking at?” she said through clenched teeth.
“Why are you so angry with me?” It was a stupid question, one he wanted to snatch back as soon as it was out.
“Why am I—” Her mouth gaped. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know you hate my people. We’ve trapped you here, we’ve eaten—” He winced, faltering over the words. “But I promise you, I’m different. I want to live here on land, with my son. Please, you have to help me get my son. I’ll do anything, Kestra. Anything you want.”
“Do your people have any weaknesses we could use to destroy them? What about poisons?”
“We’re immune to most venoms under the sea, except for the viper eel and the ring-spotted jellyfish. But those creatures are rare, and they wouldn’t yield much toxin even if you could extract it.”
“You said you used that conch shell to drive away the merlows. They’re sensitive to sound.”
“Yes, but it is a temporary effect. They always come back. And the sound doesn’t affect mermidons or high mermaids. We don’t like it, but it doesn’t drive us away.”
She growled in frustration. “You must know something useful. Is there nothing your people fear?”
Rake scrambled for an answer. He himself feared many things—the Queens, the humans, the loss of Jewel, viper eels, merlows, and the Horror in the Bone Trench, the creature no one approached but him—
He sucked in a breath, remembering what the young captain had asked. His question about larger predators.
“What?” Kestra frowned. “What is it?”
“There are things in the Deep,” he said. “Old monsters, or one-time gods, maybe. Things my people fear. I’ve spoken with one of them, a creature I call the Horror. It deals in memories and secrets.”
She tipped her head up to look at him, rain running over her lips. “This creature—could it kill mermaids?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure if it can move from its hole. Its tentacles are strong, but its body is very heavy and weak. If it came out, it would be vulnerable. The mermidons would slice through it like a shark through blubber.”
“Fine. What about others? Are there other monsters?”
Rake had considered the possibility, but he’d never asked. “If there are, the Horror would know. I could ask it.”
She scoffed. “You think we’ll let you go? Let you swim off to report to your Queens?”
A taut cord inside Rake snapped, and he bared his teeth in a snarl that sent Kestra back a step. “Are you a fool? After everything I told you about what they’ve done to me, to my son—you think I’d go back to them? Look!” He ripped aside the coat and twisted, pointing to the scars along his side and hips, across his chest. “These are the marks of my Queens’ love.” His lip curled viciously. “I’m done with them. I’ll help you find a way to kill them all. But first, you have to help me get my son. Once he’s safely with you, you can keep him, as a guarantee that I’ll come back from visiting the Horror.”
He stared her down unblinking, the rain trickling off his eyelashes and nose, streaming over his chest and stomach. He pulled the coat around himself again.
Kestra did not speak. He couldn’t read her—wasn’t used to the delicacy of the emotions flitting across her face. What was she thinking?
“We’ll keep you on land tonight,” she said. “Tomorrow, if I can persuade Flay, we’ll take the ship and go get your son. And then you’ll visit this other creature, this old monster, and you’ll find out what it knows.”
“It will be dangerous,” he said. “I’ll need my conch. And weapons, if you have any. I wasn’t allowed to wield them under the sea.”
“I’ll talk to Flay,” she repeated. “As for the conch—I wonder if Mai could rig up something better. Something louder.”
“It would be helpful,” he admitted. “I barely made it to the wall before.”
“Speaking of that—” she peered at his feet and ankles. “It seems the belt reassembled your legs whole and healthy again, without your injuries. How is that possible? How do your people have things like this?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but he wavered, his knees turning as limp as jellyfish tentacles. As he fell forward, Kestra dropped the knife on the path and caught him. His eyes glazed and his head swam, but he was conscious of her against him, soft and warm under the wet cloak.
Then she smacked his face. “Stand up!”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Come on, you big lump. Over here.” She hustled him toward the shed and propped him against it. His shoulders thumped against the wood, and Mai popped her head out. “Have you killed him yet, cousin?” she asked.
“Almost.” Kestra retrieved Flay’s knife. “He’s tired. We need to get him to a bed.”
“Yes, but where?”
“Takajo.”
Mai’s black eyes widened. “Oh, no. Bad idea, very bad.”
“He’s the only one who will listen. He won’t turn us in to the Council immediately.”
Mai tucked the end of her sketch-stick between her lips. “And why haven’t we told the Council about our prisoner?”
“For the same reason we haven’t informed them that we caught and dissected a mermaid,” Kestra replied. “They wouldn’t like it. Unnecessary risks, they’d say.”
“So?” Mai shrugged. “If they fuss, Flay can just laugh and smile and convince them otherwise.”
“I don’t think his smiles are powerful enough to persuade the entire town Council that capturing, cutting up, or harboring mermaids and their slaves is a good idea.”
Rake wished they would stop talking. A sharp, thin pain spiraled through his head, coiling behind his eyes. He wanted to rest. Needed to sleep.
“Ahoy, ladies!” Flay’s bright voice stabbed into Rake’s brain like a blade. He looked up to see the captain jaunting toward him, freshly clothed and wrapped in a heavy cloak, his tri-cornered hat shedding rivulets of rain. Beside him strode Jazadri, with a bundle tucked under his arm.
Swiftly Kestra explained about the Horror and Rake’s plan to visit it. Flay’s lips tightened, but he didn’t protest. “It’s a good plan, Blossom. And you got the information without resorting to torture. I’m so proud of you.” He tipped up her chin and kissed her.
Rake noted Flay’s open lips, and Kestra’s parted mouth, and the hint of pink tongue passing between them. Smirking, Mai retreated in the shed. Rake wanted to watch longer, but Jazadri cleared his throat and hauled him around the small building, back under the canvas overhanging the cage.
“Get these clothes on,” Jazadri said. “Then we’ll take you to Takajo’s place.”
-15-
Kestra
Kestra took it upon herself to knock on Takajo’s door. After all, having Rake bunk here had been her idea. She would take responsibility for the hawk-master’s displeasure.
Takajo opened the door, barefoot and naked to the waist, wearing a pair of loose black pants. His hair, free from its customary plait, hung in straight black sheets, making his face even more square and stern than usual.
“Kestra? Captain Flay?” He frowned. “And who are these others?” He nodded to Rake and Jazadri.
“May we enter?” Kestra bowed primly.
Takajo returned the bow, but his face did not soften. “It’s late. Too late for whatever this is.”
“I think you’ll be interested in what we have to say.” Kestra smiled, trying her best to look like the innocent little girl who used to wander into his home and ask to play with his “hunter birds.” He never let her, of course—not the sea-hawks and other raptors—but he allowed her to hold his fluffy pet moorlins who cheeped in a cage by the door.
Her expression must have worked. Either that, or he simply wasn’t sure how to get rid of them politely. He backed up, holding the door open, and Kestra led the group inside.
The front room was wide and sparsely furnished, with a low tea table and cushions. Takajo was a traditionalist and had adopted a simpler, more
elegant style of furnishing rather than the rougher, higher tables and chairs at the inn. Kestra’s heart always quieted in the space, despite the constant twittering of the moorlins from the large cage in the corner.
“You may sit. I have no tea prepared,” Takajo said gruffly. “And I don’t intend to make any at this hour.”
“We don’t expect it,” Kestra assured him, waving to Rake and Jazadri to be seated on the cushions. Rake complied awkwardly, arranging and then rearranging his legs so clumsily that she didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him. She forced herself to refocus on Takajo. “I know this is an imposition, but we had nowhere else to go. Let me explain.”
She launched into the explanation before he could refuse, racing through the story until she was out of breath, at which point Flay took over and completed the tale with considerably more flair. By the time he was done, Rake was corpse-white and swaying where he sat.
Takajo leaped up. “Have you given the boy any water?”
“Water? No.” Kestra felt suddenly stupid. “Should we have?”
“He swallows a good deal of it every day. Absorbs it through the skin, too, maybe. Needs it, no doubt. Look at him—he’s dying.”
Kestra stared, noting for the first time how the monster’s head and shoulders bowed like a wilting flower, and how the blue shadows on his skin had deepened. His eyes were dim and dull, instead of beautifully liquid as they had been a few hours ago.
Takajo vanished into a back room and returned, stirring something a large bowl. “I added a bit of Umi’s sea salt. Here, boy. Drink.”
Rake swallowed the contents of the bowl greedily, murmured his thanks, and promptly keeled over. Kestra scrambled to him, clapping her palm to his chest. His heart beat a strong rhythm under her hand.
“He needs sleep,” said Takajo. “He’s a living, thinking creature. Not some monster of darkness that subsists on evil alone. And not a fish you can toss in a bucket until you want it.”
“I know that,” Kestra said, frowning.
“The way you two talked, I thought you’d forgotten your humanity.” Takajo shifted Rake’s body and tucked a pillow under his head. “This one braved the swarms and scaled the wall to ask for help from a race he’d never spoken to. That’s a kind of courage I admire.” He jerked his head at Jazadri. “You. What do you think?”
“After talking to him, I agree.” Jazadri cast a sideways glance at Flay. “But I follow my captain’s orders.”
Takajo turned his gaze on Flay, who straightened and stared back without a hint of his usual easy grin.
“You’re young to be taking on the saving of an island, Captain,” said Takajo. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.” Flay thrust out his jaw as if to say, What of it?
“Old enough to take action, and young enough to believe you’ll succeed.” Takajo sighed. “I should tell the Council what you’re up to.”
“But you don’t like the Council.” Kestra kept her tone soft and light. “You’re always complaining about their policies, and how they have too many meetings and charge you too much tax. Isn’t it better to leave them out of this?”
“And let you stir up trouble with the mermaids and put everyone in peril?” Takajo replied.
“The mermaids won’t climb the walls,” Kestra said. “They can’t get to us. I don’t see the harm in rescuing the creature’s son and having him ask this memory monster of his a few questions.”
“The way I see it,” Flay said, unfolding from his seat on the floor and rising to his full height, “why bother the Council until we’ve got our answers? We’re on a fact-finding mission, honorable Hawk-Master, nothing more. If we discover something useful and there’s a decision to be made, of course we’ll involved the Council. It’s only right.” He smiled, angling himself lazily against the wall and spinning his hat on his fingers. “Surely you can trust us that far. You trust me, don’t you?”
Kestra opened her mouth to say Yes, with all my heart, before she remembered he wasn’t talking to her. How did he work that mesmerizing magic of his? The boy was pure charm on legs.
Takajo stood up, facing Flay, his mouth grimly straight. His eyes shone, dark slits under lowered brows. “Of course, Captain. You hold the lifeblood of our poor village in your capable hands.”
Kestra lifted an eyebrow. Takajo was skilful of speech, too, when he bothered about such things.
“So we all trust each other,” she said, cautiously inserting herself into whatever masculine standoff was going on. “We’ll leave Rake here tonight, and tomorrow he can fetch his son.”
“This monster of his,” said Takajo. “What did he tell you about it?”
“Not much.”
“You should ask him more about it before you let him pay it a visit.” Takajo crossed his arms. “I don’t like to think that something so enormous has been this close to the island for so long, and we never knew.”
“I don’t think it’s a threat,” she said. “He told me it has a soft body. It hides in a crack and catches what it can.”
Takajo nodded sharply, a curt dismissal. “I will watch him for you tonight.”
“Lovely,” said Flay. “May I suggest tying the fish’s hands and jaws? A minor precaution in case he wakes in the night and goes looking for a snack. I’m only thinking of your well-being, esteemed Hawk-Master.” He bowed.
“Much obliged,” Takajo said dryly. “I’ll take precautions.”
“Then we’ll bid you good night.” Flay offered his arm to Kestra, his mouth curving in a warm smile that sent a tingle through her. She accepted his arm, darting a glance at Takajo. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes soften at the sight of her and Flay together? She had expected judgment and tightened lips—but his shoulders dipped a little, as if tension had drained from them. That tiny hint of approval shot straight to her heart, and she smiled at him, wide and unburdened. And Takajo smiled back.
“Sleep well, little hawk,” he said.
When they were back out in the street, with Jazadri following behind, Kestra drew in a deep breath of freshly washed air. The rain had stopped, and the shreds of cloud revealed a silvery disc of moon and a generous sprawl of pale stars. She felt her mind clearing too, rising above the stormy mess of the day and the overload of information it had brought.
As they began to walk, Flay leaned down and asked, “Little hawk?”
“Yes, Takajo calls me that,” she said. “He was a dear friend of my father’s, and he has been kind to me ever since. He’s like family.”
“Ah. Then I won’t be jealous.”
“Of Takajo?” She laughed. “He’s much older than me.”
“Age is nothing. I’ve seen women of fifty with twenty-year-olds, and men of sixty with girls who could be their granddaughters.”
“Ugh.” Kestra winced.
“Why do you cringe? If two people find each other attractive, inside and out, and they want to be together, why should time, station, gender, or anything else stand between them?”
“Anything—like fear? Like family responsibilities? Like reluctance to live in a pretty box like a doll, to be taken out occasionally when it’s convenient?”
He stared at her, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“I won’t be your doll in a seaside cottage.”
“Who said anything about—”
“You did! You said you’d set me up in a pretty shop with everything I need. And then I’d have to stay there, alone in a strange town, and wait for you to come back. Do you think I’d enjoy that, waiting for you for months? People talk of men and their needs—I have needs too. What if I found someone else to satisfy me while you’re off on your sailing trips? What would you think of that?”
A muscle along his jaw pulsed. “I’d hate it. Are you saying you wouldn’t even try to be faithful to me? That’s a poor love, Blossom.”
“I want you to think about what you’re asking of me. You want me to leave here so I can be safe. But where in the world is truly saf
e? Here I know the people—my friends, my family. The only incentive you could offer me, the only thing that would tempt me to leave this place, is you. You, all the time, all mine.”
He stopped, seizing her shoulders. “You can’t sail with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a woman.”
She wrenched her shoulders, trying to shake him off. “That’s no good reason.”
“It is. You don’t know what it’s like on our routes—I couldn’t protect you—”
“I can protect myself.”
“I know you believe that, Blossom, but realistically—”
She stiffened, looking him defiantly in the eyes. “Then we have nothing else to discuss.”
He relaxed his hands, but he didn’t remove them. Instead they drifted up her arms to her shoulders, sliding along her neck and cupping her face. He shifted closer, his eyes melting into hers, heating her body.
“That’s not going to work.” She hated the breathless quiver in her voice.
One of his hands slipped behind her neck, and she let her head fall back, her eyes on his lips.
Jazadri’s deep voice shattered the moment. “You two know that I’m here, don’t you? The mermaids’ screams did not entirely deafen me today, though I’m beginning to wish they had.”
“You have legs, Jaza,” Flay hissed. “Walk around us. Go on ahead.”
“Not going to walk me back?” Jazadri said. “A poor thanks for the man who played the worm on the hook today.”
Kestra’s conscience twinged with guilt. “I’m sorry, Jaza.” Then she saw the flash of his white smile in the dark and realized he was joking.
“I suppose we can escort you.” Flay sighed, interlocking his fingers with Kestra’s.
“Good.” Jazadri nodded as they walked on. “If I fall over like our friend from the sea, the little hawk can help you carry me. And if not, at least I’ve kept you from mating in the street like a pair of stray dogs.”
The Teeth in the Tide Page 17