I shut the drawer so hard that the mirror and perfumes in glass jars atop it shake violently. “No, I—” I open the next drawer and pull out the thread and needle. “I found them.”
The dress is still lying on the floor. I reach down and pick it up.
“Please make quick work of it. And then we can be under way,” she says, as I nod and pick up the dress, afraid to tell her that I’m not a miracle maker. She’s so deluded, and with her father dead, I’m afraid any more bad news will only push her further out of reality. I’m five steps down the long staircase when she calls after me, “And take a bath! A long one! Please!”
When I’m back in my quarters, I notice that Burbur is nowhere in sight. Everything is quiet, shuddering, as if afraid of something. Even the waves have seemed to cease their unending noise. Little shell trinkets are strewn carelessly about the hallway. It no longer gleams with radiance in the late day sun. In my room, none of my things are arranged, no fresh garment is hanging in the doorway. There is water in the tub, but as I swirl my hand in it, I realize quickly that it is salt water. There are a few white jellyfish bobbing on the surface.
“Tiam?” I call into the opening over the tub. I’m eager to tell him the princess wants to marry him tomorrow. That in the midst of the chaos, she wants me to sew her dress. I’d like to hear what he has to say about that.
But there’s no answer. I wait and then call again. Nothing.
Maybe he’s just away exploring, I think. After all, Tiam is not one to sit around and do nothing. I need to go back into the stores and find him.
I call to him again, still no answer. I think about my last conversation with him: I’ll find my own way out. Maybe he did. Maybe he’s far away from the opening, on his way back up to us. Or maybe one of those horrible creatures got him.
Formation will be soon. From the window, I can see the tides rising. I didn’t hear the siren ending low tide. Perhaps whoever is responsible for that has given up on it, just like Burbur. I will need to go out there, to quell any suspicions. I also need to face Finn and ask him to forgive me. He probably hates me. When he finds out everything I’ve been doing to save Tiam, he’ll be even angrier. But I couldn’t let Tiam die. I can’t. I try to think of what my father would do, what he would say to smooth things over, but I can’t find his words. If he were here, it wouldn’t have gotten to this point.
Before I know it, I’m lying on the bed, weeping next to the white heap of fabric that is Star’s wedding dress and wishing my father were here with me. He would know what to do, and never would have made such a mess of things as I have.
Suddenly something moves in the hallway. A ghost?
I haven’t slept. My head still aches, and my vision is blurred. I’m not thinking straight.
Then Star pokes her head in. I swallow. She’s come to punish me for not finishing the dress.
Instead she says nothing, just sits there, breathing heavily. When my eyes adjust I see tears streaming down her own face. “Princess?”
She doesn’t look at me, just lets out a muffled, “Huh?” She almost seems surprised to see me here.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Oh. Yes. Where is Tiam?”
“He’s down in the stores. We’ll need to go down there and meet him after the next tide. I’ll have the dress finished by then. And then you can be under way,” I say, using her term, although it sounds ridiculous to think of a marriage, something so beautiful, like a task to cross off one’s list.
“Oh.” She seems satisfied. And yet I can tell there is something she’s holding back.
“Princess? Is there something else?”
And with that, the floodwaters pour forth. “I’ve never been in the tower without my father. He’s always been there. His snoring would always comfort me. And now he is gone, and it feels so empty and quiet up there and I wonder if you might come up and stay with me.”
“I—” I begin, hardly knowing how to answer. The only thing I know right away is that I would rather face the tide than spend the entire night comforting her. “I’d hardly call it suitable for a mere commoner like myself to share the royal quarters,” I say.
She sighs. To my relief, she says, “You are right. What would people think?” She stands, and for a moment I think she will go back to her tower. Instead, she asks, “Might I stay with you here for a while?”
“Um...” Before I can say more she moves in and lies down beside me on the bed. I shuffle over, giving her most of the available space until I’m pressed against the wall.
“Goodness,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “These beds aren’t suitable for royals at all, are they?”
Not as if I would know. “I’ll have to go into formation soon,” I remind her.
“Oh, that is all right,” she answers, folding her hands daintily over her stomach. She sniffs. “Tell me one of your stories. It will improve my mood.”
“Stories?” I’m not sure how she thinks I can tell stories, when I lack the creativity to daydream.
“Tiam told me that you tell lovely stories. He says you would tell them in the formation to pass the time. Is that true?”
I nod, a sick feeling building in my stomach that he’d spent the time sharing such things with her. Talking about me. Oh, Coe tells lovely stories, but it’s a shame she’s so horribly strange-looking. I wonder what else they’ve shared, two beautiful people, alone together. I wonder if he thinks about pressing his body next to hers, if that’s what he daydreams about.
“Then, go ahead. Tell me one about a princess like myself, if you know any.”
“All right.” I begin to relate to her the story of Sleeping Beauty. It’s one I’ve never told before, and I know it will require a lot of explanation, but I can’t think of any others. I tell her of the beautiful princess who pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and goes to sleep, only to be awakened a hundred years later by the kiss of her true love.
“True love?” she asks.
“Yes, long ago they believed that there was one man especially made for every woman. They called them soulmates. And sometimes a person would search their entire life to find their soulmate. And that would complete them.”
“That is a silly concept. After all, nobody on this island has a soulmate.”
“Well, it was a comforting thing for them, to believe they wouldn’t live out all their days alone. It may not have been entirely true. But there were thousands and thousands of people then, more people than one could meet in a single lifetime, so it wasn’t as though the notion could be tested.”
“Perhaps it’s only royal people, people of worth, who have soulmates,” she continues on, ignoring me. Then, oblivious to the insult, she says, “It is rather sweet and comforting. I think Tiam...Tiam is my soulmate.”
I swallow. “Is he?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel when he looks at me. It’s hard to explain.”
She doesn’t need to explain. I understand that feeling perfectly.
“He is quite...handsome. Even filthy and ragged, he’s handsome. And when he talks, his words vibrate in the deepest part of me. I could listen to him talk all day.” She fingers a giant pearl on a string around her neck. It’s perfectly round and white like the moon, and larger than any I’d ever come upon. Only one person on the island has the luck to find a pearl that large. The way she’s stroking it, I can almost imagine the entire scene, him tying the breathtaking jewel around her neck as a promise of marriage. I try to blink the scene away, but the more I try, the more clear it becomes. Her voice is so fragile, almost childlike, when she whispers, “And he is all I have now. He is everything to me.”
I flash back to the moment that Tiam fastened that gaudy red piece of stiff material around my own wrist. I’d been touched by that gesture, too. Now it just seems chea
p. He gives me discarded junk that royals wouldn’t find important. He gives her rare jewels of unequaled beauty. It’s perfectly fitting, so I’m not sure why it hurts so much. “You are probably right, that he’s your soulmate.”
“And I do know what kissing is, too. The kiss of true love certainly is powerful. To awaken the princess after one hundred years and restore happiness to the kingdom!” She is silent for a moment, and suddenly her breathing quickens in a renewed spring of energy and inspiration. “Do you think that if Tiam and I are joined in marriage and kiss, it will reverse the tides? Do you think it can save us?”
I turn and stare at her. Her eyebrows are raised in question, her face not leaking a bit of irony. She was the sign from the gods that Tides would be safe, and yet safety still eludes us, so I suppose that’s why I’m doubtful of her powers. “These stories are just stories. They’re not real. I don’t think that a kiss can—”
“It could, though. Don’t you think? Inexplicable things happen all the time. I mean, sometimes I’ll look out from the balcony at the brightest part of the day, and see the moon. During the day! And why is the sea filled with salt? Who put it there? How can seagulls fly, and yet no matter how fast I flap my arms, I cannot? I think about these things often, Coe.”
I’m about to answer when suddenly thunder cracks the still, humid evening. A storm is coming.
Her body tenses next to me. “Do not take me for a fool. Do not think I don’t know how you feel about Tiam. One only need look into your eyes to see how much you care for him.”
I’m so shocked that I spring upright in the bed and blink twice at her to make sure I’m not dreaming this. Surely it is another nightmare. But it isn’t; she is there, and in the darkness, I can see her eyes fastened on my own, narrowed in suspicion. “Princess, I don’t—” I begin, grateful the storm clouds have rendered the room dark because I know my cheeks are burning. Is it true that the feelings I have for Tiam are written in my eyes for everyone to see?
“And you may think that he had feelings for you.”
Well, at least she is wrong about one thing. I’ve never thought that. Not once. “I don’t—”
“But he is mine. He is everything to me. I care for him deeply. This world dictates that we belong as one. Even if the king’s rule is no longer valid, then nature’s rule should persist. He is my soulmate. Do you see that?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
“That is good.” She lifts herself from the bed, scoops up the wedding dress and floats out of the room without another word, leaving me with that same image from my mermaid dream: Star and Tiam, two perfect halves of a whole, walking hand in hand, away from me.
Fourteen
Lost Violent Souls
I don’t want to go back to formation. I’ve missed two of them now, and surely there has been talk. A guard was killed. The king is dead. I am very afraid this formation will be very different from the last one I’d attended.
As I step outside the castle, thunder rumbles. I remember Finn and cringe. He was the only one out here who’d made any attempt to protect me, and now... I’d hit him, hurt him, something I’d never done to anyone. He’d always been good to me. My father, who was an excellent judge of character, knew that. And what had I done?
Ana stops me. “Look who’s back from the dead,” she mutters. “We all did think you were dead. Finn said he’d tried to save you, but that you were crazy and wanted to die.”
Maybe I am crazy, but I hadn’t wanted to die. I’d only wanted to help Tiam, something that I’m afraid no one on this island understands. He’d once been their favorite, and now...it’s likely Finn has poisoned their thinking, talking about how he’d insisted on becoming king. They all probably hate Tiam now. The thing I’d dreaded most was that I’d have to see them, sooner or later, and face their questions. That’s the problem with this island. You can’t avoid anybody. I start to walk toward my spot, shivering in the cold air. “I was tending to the princess,” I mutter.
“There was a contest for Tiam’s spot this morning. Almost had one for yours while we were at it.”
I turn and stare at her. “Contest? What kind of contest?”
She shudders. “I wanted no part of it.”
I start to walk away but brush against a fisherman, and my bag gets caught in his spear. It lifts off my shoulder and topples to the ground. The cans of honey are the first to spill out. It’s not enough to hope no one will see; formation is just moments away, and the area is swarming with commoners. Soon, it’s almost completely silent, except for the sound of the cans rolling on the concrete, clinking together. Everyone seems to stop moving and stare at them, and silence ensues.
Ana asks the question on everyone’s lips. “Now, what are those?”
Quickly conjuring an excuse, I casually pick them up, then hand them to Ana. “They’re from the princess. As a peace offering. Maybe you can put them in the next meal.”
“Did she now?” She snorts and shakes her head as she inspects the cans. I have to agree with her; even though Star would never think to make a peace offering, this one will likely not buy her any favor. There’s an ocean of misunderstanding between the princess and the people. How much peace can four measly cans of food bring? If it weren’t for the royal guards, it’s likely they would have already attempted to take over the tower. It’s probably only a matter of time before they do it anyway, regardless of the risk.
Ana starts to walk away, then thinks better of it and takes the cans from me.
“Yes, isn’t that nice?” I say, cheerfully as possible. “Honey.”
“Honey?” Her eyes narrow. “But what are they? Where did they come from?” She is still turning them around in her hands. “I thought the stores were bare of food.” Her lips pucker, and it’s then I notice that more people are staring at us.
“There are many rooms in the stores,” I explain. “And it’s very dark down there. Things can be easily overlooked.”
I place my things on my spot, noting with a bit of sadness Tiam’s usual place. Today, for the first time ever, someone else will be standing beside me. I wonder who it could be. Who won the “contest,” whatever that was. I look around, feeling as if I’ve been removed from this world for longer than a few tides. It’s getting late, almost too late, and yet it seems as if a lot of people are missing. There’s more than the usual amount of tension in the air. Usually people sit at their spots, hang their heads and wait. But today, people are darting their eyes about, suspicious, uneasy.
I whirl around to feel a pressure against my thighs as something throws all its weight against them. Fern. She sobs into my hip, clutching handfuls of my tunic. “Oh, Coe,” she whimpers. “I thought you were dead. I missed you so much.”
I kneel down to look at her. Her eyes are wide with fear. I can’t believe I haven’t given much thought to her, that I’ve left her in a situation that is clearly getting worse by the moment. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please, don’t leave me again,” she moans into my tunic. This is more than her usual concern. A lot more. She’s trembling so much she can barely get the words out.
“What is it? What happened?”
But she just stands there holding me tight, shaking. I rub her back, tracing my fingers along the bones of her trembling spine. Finally, she whispers, “The shovel.”
“Oh!” I say. I reach into my bag, then remember I left it with Tiam. “I know where it is. I meant to give it back.”
“Ana was mad. She said I couldn’t have the next three meals.”
“I am so sorry,” I say. I stroke her hair. “I’ll explain to Ana. We’ll get you some food right after formation, okay?”
She nods, but her face doesn’t brighten. There’s something else.
“Is it about the contest, Fern?” I ask. “What was it? Who got Tiam’s spot?”
Sud
denly a voice whispers, “Hi, Coe,” behind me.
When I turn, Finn is standing there, holding his spear and baring his teeth in a thin smile. He’s wearing King Wallow’s pink robe around his shoulders. It’s in perfect condition, as if he’d stripped it from him not long after the last breath left the king’s mouth. There’s a huge, bloody scar stretching from his ear to the tip of his jaw. I gasp. I hadn’t known I’d caused that much damage.
He notices my looking at the robe. “Do you like it?” he asks, stretching the cape in front of him as we both settle into the formation. I can imagine him, untying it from the king’s neck and pulling it from his body before his blood went cold. What’s amazing to me is that the others would let him. That they hadn’t insisted he’d share, as we do nearly everything.
“It looks just as ridiculous on you as it did on him,” I say, to which he laughs. Encouraged by that, I whisper, “I’m sorry I hurt you, but you shouldn’t have grabbed me. You scared me.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. Then his voice softens. “Coe, I was trying to help you.”
“But what you did to Tiam is...unforgivable.”
His voice is harsh. “You think so? He gave us no choice.”
“How can you think that?” I seethe under my breath, though I know other people can hear. We’re pressed together so close, I am sure that people on the other edge of the formation know what we’re talking about. In fact, never before have I felt all their eyes burning into us so deeply. They’re all very interested. My voice is quieter still the next time I speak. “You just needed to talk it out.”
“With his spear drawn?” Finn says, to my surprise. I’m about to argue this point, and he must anticipate it, because he says, “A dozen other men were there, too. They saw what happened. You didn’t.”
“I...” I begin, but he’s effectively silenced any argument I could have made. Tiam had his spear drawn? Whatever for? Maybe he was afraid for himself. After all, all of those men had been heckling him from the platform. “He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t feel threatened.”
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