Alarm shone in Shale’s green eyes, and his fingers loosened. “If you’re lying, then by the Queens’ teeth, the next time I see you, you’ll die bloody.”
“I’ll bare my throat to your teeth,” Rake promised.
“Well then.” Shale released his grip on Rake’s neck. “What is this vital piece of advice?”
“Something big is coming,” Rake said. “Something few of our people will escape. When it happens, you must go immediately to the nurseries of the high mermaids. Take as many breeders as you can with you, and stay in the nursery caves until it’s all over. Do you understand?”
Shale blinked, his blond hair waving in a cloud around his head. “You’ve gone insane. What do you think is coming?”
“Something immense. Deadly. In a week’s time, or a little more. Say nothing, I beg you, but try to stay alive until then.”
“No trouble there,” said Shale. “It’s mating season again. The Queens won’t be killing any breeders until they’ve had their fill.”
Rake read the tension in Shale’s face, the flicker of agony in his eyes. “You’re out here trying to avoid your duties.”
“Performing as required is more difficult for some of us,” Shale spat.
Rake’s heart swelled with fury at the Queens, at his entire race.
“There is something wrong with our people, with the flow of our life cycle,” he said. “Unbridled gluttony and cruelty. Reckless breeding when there are already more of us than the sea can bear. I have to restore balance, Shale. Do you understand?”
“This is the way we live,” Shale said dully.
“Soon it will be corrected,” Rake said. “Soon, you will be free. But you have to help me. You have to lead the others away from that human ship.”
Shale’s slit nostrils flared. “You’re in league with the humans? The land-slugs, the leg-wearers? Why would you join with them?”
Fiercely Rake gripped the other male’s shoulders. “If I don’t work with the humans, all of us die. I’m trying to save those of our kind who are worthy of life. You. The other males. The newest of the high mermaid spawn, those still uncorrupted by our hideous ways. Do you want to die with the rest, or do you want to be saved? Because I’m the only one who can ensure your continued existence.”
A partial truth at best. Even without Rake’s cooperation, the humans would eventually find a way to kill the mermaids—he had no doubt of it. With their tools, their books, their intelligence, their indomitable spirit—they would find a way to wipe out his people. It might take another score of years, but they would do it.
He stared Shale down, trying to channel his will, his need, through his eyes into the other male’s. Help me, help me. You have to help me.
Shale swallowed, his cheeks reddening. “I will lead them away. But by the Queens’ bones, you must make good on your word.”
“I will. You’ll have your freedom.”
A hint of warmth, of light—of hope—passed over Shale’s face. “Freedom,” he said slowly. “I like the taste of that word.”
Then he swam out of the kelp and away. Rake was too far away to hear what he said to the others, but the gathering around the ship broke up a few minutes later and the mermaids disappeared into the shadows of the sea.
It could be a trap. If it was, Rake had no choice but to brave it.
As he swam toward the Wind’s Favor, he realized that yesterday’s bites and slashes weren’t stinging with each stroke as they had on the way down. He glanced at his chest and nearly forgot to swim.
Instead of cuts and rings of teeth-marks, he saw smooth flesh. Unmarked, except for his old scars.
The Horror must have healed him during their time together. After all, it had regenerative powers—he’d seen its memory of re-growing the lost tentacle.
Encouraged, he plunged forward again, clutching the rope that slid down the ship’s hull, twitching his tail away from the spikes as Flay’s crew pulled him safely up and over the railing. Mai stood ready with his belt and a set of clothes; but before he had one leg inside the pants, Kestra tapped her toe impatiently and said, “Well? What did you learn?”
-21-
Kestra
As soon as Rake had finished his tale, Kestra wanted to set sail immediately. Flay’s ship was due to leave for parts unknown in a day or two, and the four-day voyage to the Forbidden Zone would put him far behind schedule. Best not to waste a single minute.
But Flay reminded her that before the Wind’s Favor could leave to fetch the world’s most terrifying monster, the Council must be summoned and consulted.
The Council fretted and fussed for an entire night, into the early morning hours; and by the end of it all, they had decided nothing, except that emissaries must be sent to Nishvel and the other settlements on Kiken Island. If the monster came and prowled the waters around the island, those people would be affected as well.
“The other islanders must have a voice in this,” Leader Chiren insisted. “If we are bringing the beast here, we’ll need to take precautions. Everyone along the coast must move inland for safety. We have to protect our belongings, our property, and our people, as much as possible. Who knows what havoc the monster could wreak along the shoreline while it’s dining on mermaids?”
Objectively, Kestra agreed with him. But there was no time. No time. They were already stretching Flay’s schedule, and his crew was beginning to grumble about the long stay in perilous waters, about missing their homes, about being stuck at a tiny island port with little to do but drink and dance.
Right before the Council meeting, as the sailors were taking their dinner in the common room, Kestra had overheard one of the crewmen grumbling, “Not enough pretty women to go around. Captain’s got the best one for himself, and that little bird of a cousin of hers ain’t barely worth a look. I tried for that other piece, that Enree girl, but she turned me down flat, the little vixen.”
Kestra had secretly spit in the man’s ale before serving it to him. And now that the Council session was over, with nothing decided but the sending of messages, she felt like spitting in all their drinks. She forced a half-smile as she stood by the inn door, ushering the Council men and women out into the pre-dawn chill of the courtyard.
The Councilwoman who had ended the other meeting so effectively was the last to leave, and as she passed Kestra, she said quietly, “Sometimes, my dear, it is better to act first, and ask pardon afterward.” Then she bowed and swept out.
Kestra whispered the same words to Flay at noon, as he sat spinning his ring on the table and dousing his impatience with ale. Then she said, “I heard that the Council spent the entire morning choosing the messengers to take the news across the island. They’ll take another day to decide on the wording of the message, and then it will take two more days for the runners to go and return. That’s three days. By then, we could be nearing the Forbidden Zone.”
Flay picked up his ring and jammed it back on his finger. “Then, by thunder, let’s get under way.”
In the hushed darkness of that night, Flay’s crew quietly boarded the Wind’s Favor, carrying supplies for a week’s voyage. Rake and Kestra would accompany Flay and his men. Jewel would stay with Takajo. Mai, though furious at being left behind, was somewhat mollified by assurances that she could visit Jewel every day and ask him as many questions as she liked about life under the sea.
“I’ll stay here,” she growled. “As long as you take this.” She handed Kestra one of her specimen knives—a short, broad blade with a wavy hilt, perfect for gripping. “You can strap it to your ankle or arm. In case anyone or anything else tries to attack you.”
Kestra could feel the press of the knife’s sheath and strap against her ankle now, as she prepared to board the ship. She was no fighter. If anyone did attack her, she doubted she’d have time to reach down, undo the flap, and draw the knife. Still, the solid presence of the weapon was unexpectedly comforting.
Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she paused at the narrow bri
dge leading from the docking station to the Wind’s Favor. Crossing that perilous bridge by the light of day was one thing—walking over it in the depths of night was another. She had made the crossing in the gray rain once, but not in inky dark such as this. The orange light of the deck lanterns barely pushed back the thick blackness.
While she hesitated, Rake strode past her and across the planks without so much as glancing down. He was becoming unnervingly confident on his human legs. Determined not to be outdone by a fish-man, she moved forward.
A warm hand settled in the small of her back. “Quickly now, Blossom. Before your town leaders notice the activity and come to investigate.”
“I thought you bribed the night watch and the dock guards.”
“I did, or rather Rake did. He donated the requisite items of jewelry. But as you well know, your town has many curious eyes, not just those of the guards.”
“True.” She set her foot on the planks and tried not to gasp at the way they shifted slightly in the strong wind off the sea. One good gust, a misplaced foot, and she’d topple into the black water. She’d be chewed to blood and bone in seconds.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid, love.” Flay’s voice carried a mocking lilt.
“I’m not.”
He sighed. “This is one more proof that you don’t belong at sea with me, Blossom. You belong on land, safe and secure. Protected.”
She made a harsh sound of frustration and started walking across the bridge, her hands white-knuckled around her bag and the lantern.
“You were made for sewing and cooking and gardening,” Flay continued, his voice an infuriating buzz in her ear. “Not for monster-hunting and exploration and wild port cities. If you can’t even cross a plank at night, you certainly can’t handle the rage of the ocean, or the advances of vile sailors.”
She stepped onto the deck and whirled, raging, to find him wearing an insufferably cocky grin.
“There now.” He leaped onto the deck himself. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“You bastard.” She shoved him. “You said all that on purpose, to distract me.”
“Of course, Blossom. You didn’t think I meant all that bilge?”
Rake was leaning on the railing nearby. His pointed ears kept twitching toward them, so Kestra kept her voice low. “Are you sure you didn’t mean any of it?”
“Blossom.” Flay’s thumb stroked the top of Kestra’s hand—one of those skillful sly touches of his, completely deliberate, calculated to drive her wild. “I’ve seen more of you in the past week than ever before—and I’m not only talking about this beautiful body. I’ve seen your wit, your courage. I underestimated you before, my love, and I don’t plan to do it again.”
Kestra rose on her toes and kissed him, hard. Then she spun away, furious because there were tears prickling at the edges of her eyes.
“Put your things in my cabin,” he called after her. “We’ll cast off in a few minutes.”
The first two days of sailing strained Kestra’s nerves to the limit. The mermaids were clearly on high alert—they followed the ship incessantly, screaming and scraping its sides with their claws, flinging spears that pinged off the metal plates or stuck fast in the reinforced railing. A few times, their numbers grew so thick that they actually slowed the ship, pressing and pushing it. Several of the mermaids impaled themselves on the spiked hull, but the loss didn’t seem to deter the rest of the seething crowd. Flay had to summon archers to shoot at the creatures with crossbows.
When the mermaids finally fell back, the ship still had to cross the outermost ring of merlows—the living wall separating the Realm Below from the rest of the ocean. After the constant screaming of the high mermaids and their mermidons, the mewling of the starved merlows nearly drove Kestra mad. She huddled in Flay’s cabin, pressing his bedclothes around her head. The sailors stuffed their ears with bits of cloth, and Flay and Jazadri communicated with them by hand signals.
Only Rake seemed unmoved by the sounds. He stood at the bow of the ship, his indigo hair whipping behind him like a banner in the wind, his claws sunk into the wooden railing. His large ears flexed occasionally, shifting with the cries of the merlows.
Kestra didn’t know what he was thinking. She wasn’t sure she cared, either. It was his job to find the monster in the Forbidden Zone, to dive down and communicate with it, and to give it the memories that would persuade it to follow them. After that, he would have earned asylum on land for as long as he wanted to stay. She could respect him, acknowledge him—but she wouldn’t have to be around him daily, which would be a relief. She was tired of trying to sift through the odd mix of fury, pity, and disgust she felt for him.
Early on the third day, Flay banged open the door of his cabin, sending a wave of morning sun over the bed where Kestra lay curled among the blankets. She groaned and threw one of the pillows at him.
“Up, Blossom!” he cried. “We’re past the merlows and off into the open sea. There is life, so much life, in the water! Come and look.”
Splashing her face quickly at the washstand, she ran out after him, wearing only her sleeveless tunic, which skimmed just above her knees. Her mother would be scandalized—and the knowledge only heightened Kestra’s excitement.
The crew of the Wind’s Favor were already pulling the boards away from the railing, stacking them to the side. Flay dragged Kestra over to a gap and pointed. “Look, Blossom.”
She looked. “What am I supposed to be seeing? I don’t—”
A slick gray shape burst from the waves, its thick body arched, pointy fins gleaming. Its long snout and curved mouth made the creature appear to be laughing.
“What is it?” she gasped; but before Flay could answer, more of the creatures leaped out of the sea, joyfully bounding through the waves alongside the ship.
“Dolphins,” Flay said, grinning. “A much more pleasant escort than our former companions. And where there are dolphins, love, there are fish! The men and I are going to catch some this afternoon, and we’ll cook them tonight. Of course you’ll eat them raw, right, fish?” He winked at Rake, who stood a little distance away, also gazing over the side.
Rake looked over, annoyance curling his lip. “I wish you wouldn’t call me ‘fish,’ “ he said. “Fish are food, not friends. How would you like it if I called you ‘chicken,’ or ‘rabbit’?”
Flay laughed. “Fair point. I will give you a new nickname then. How about ‘Bluefin,’ or ‘Goldie,’ or ‘Scales’?”
Rake quirked an eyebrow.
“Wave-Tamer? Salt-Drinker?”
“You are mocking me.”
“Maybe a little. Come now, I give pet names to everyone I like. Kestra is Blossom, Mai is Sparrow, that young redheaded sailor over there is Freckles—”
“What is Jazadri’s pet name?”
Flay winced. “I call him Jaza. I tried another name once—it did not end well.”
“Then you may give me the same courtesy, and call me Rake.” With a taut nod, Rake strode away across the deck, disappearing around the corner of the cabin.
“He’s an interesting fellow, isn’t he?” Flay’s grin faded, but its echo lingered in his eyes.
“Yes,” Kestra admitted.
“What if there are others like him?” Flay met her eyes. “Those of his race who might be worth saving?”
“He says there aren’t—except for a few males and the youngest of the high mermaid spawn. The rest are corrupted by the Queens. We can’t let them live, Flay. They will only continue the cycle.”
“There’s no way to be sure that they’ll all die,” he countered.
“No. But enough of them will die. Enough to set them back a hundred years and give our people a chance.”
Flay licked his lips and averted his gaze. “I’ve wondered, love, if maybe we shouldn’t be planning the annihilation of an entire sentient race.”
“It’s a little late to rethink the plan.” Fear and anger spiked in Kestra’s chest. “Flay, you can’t back
out now. My people—an entire populated island—are counting on us. On you. On him.” She jerked her head in the direction Rake had gone.
“I know.” He swept off his hat and ruffled his hair. “I’m not backing out. I know what’s at stake.”
“They are predators out of control, and all we need is a bigger predator to fix this, to bring back the balance.”
“And what if the bigger predator decides to stick around once it has eaten its fill of mermaids? What then?”
Kestra had wrestled with that very possibility during those two days in Flay’s cabin. She had chewed ship’s biscuits and pondered the problem, over and over. “If it decides to stay, we’ll send Rake to talk to it again. Maybe he can persuade it to leave. If not, maybe Mai can figure out a way to poison it, or to lure it away. Besides, Rake’s memory monster said that the big one only eats every century or so, and rests between feedings. We’d have plenty of time to find a solution.”
“I hope you’re right.” Flay looked aside at something behind her, breaking into a smile again. Kestra turned to see Jazadri wrestling with a mass of fishing tackle. To her right, three other sailors were untangling a large net.
“We’ll be fishing all afternoon,” Flay said. “You can watch, enjoy the sun, try your hand at a line—whatever you like.”
Without waiting for an answer, he approached Jazadri and began inspecting a fishing line with fervent interest. Kestra smiled at his enthusiasm. Where she loved gardens, cooking, and making beautiful things, he loved sailing, fishing, and art. They were alike enough to fit together, different enough to interest each other. A perfect match.
And she would watch the fishing later, but first, she wanted to find Rake. After hearing Flay’s doubts about the plan, she needed to make sure Rake was still on board, that he truly was willing to risk himself and dive down to commune with a monster much larger than any he’d ever encountered. An immense request—one she suspected he might be rethinking.
The Teeth in the Tide Page 23