“Oh, gods, Coe,” he says when he comes up for air. He nibbles a trail down my neck, to my shoulder. “Oh, gods.”
He doesn’t have to say anything more. I know.
Suddenly he whimpers. It’s a sharp, girlish cry I’ve never heard from him. I pull away and stare at his face. He’s wincing. “My...”
He’s pointing at something at his middle. His wound. How stupid can I be that I forgot that? “Oh, I’m so, so—”
But he clamps his mouth over mine in another kiss, this one even more consuming than the last. I think about how I’ve lived my entire life not knowing that this existed. This perfect thing. This alone could make tide after tide worth living. I think about Star’s stupid assumption about a kiss reversing the tides. Before I’d thought it was idiotic. Now I’m not so sure. Oh, gods. Star. I reluctantly nudge him away. “We’ve got to stop. Star.”
He gazes at me, breathless, murmuring, “Coe. That was amazing. What was that?”
I shake my head, dazed, as if I don’t know the answer. But I do. I know exactly what that was.
That, my Tiam, was life. And now more than ever, I know it’s worth fighting for.
Eighteen
Life
We walk to the first crevice and peer inside. “Were you in here?” I ask him, my knees still wobbly from the thought of kissing those lips of his. Already I want to do it again, but then I remember Star and want to die. Die, or just run away with him and never come back. But I know Tiam would never do that. He made a promise to our king. And that is something he would never break.
Tiam nods. “I went down a ways, but it gets narrower and narrower and, well...”
He looks away. He doesn’t need to say any more. I get it. Closed spaces.
“And, yes,” he says. “To answer your question. There is a map. Part of a map. It’s not complete. It was drawn a long time ago.”
“By whom? How did the king even know it existed, if he’s never been down here before?”
“Wallow told me that many tides ago, before we were born, an amazing thing happened. A strange woman was found wandering the passages. She was dressed strangely and looked different, spoke a different language, even.”
“An outsider?” I gasp. For all our time, our population has always been dwindling. We’ve never had outsiders. Not for as long as anyone or their parents could remember. Because we’ve lived so long without any contact from the outside, we’d always assumed we were alone in the world, the only survivors. “That’s not possible.”
“It is. The king and some servants were the only ones who knew of it, though. The ones who didn’t, when they saw her, thought she was a ghost. The Dark Girl.”
“You mean...” I shake my head. “There really was a girl who lived in the castle and had dark hair and pale skin? I don’t understand. Where did she come from?”
“From somewhere below. A city underneath us. She’d gone for a walk and gotten lost. She was very sick and delirious, so she didn’t know where she came from, only that it was underground.”
My body trembles at the thought. “How did we never hear about this?”
“Because the king kept her in his tower. He could never let the world know about her, because he knew they would storm the palace and rip it apart, looking for the escape. With the king’s help, she spent day after day trying to find the way back, for thousands of tides, and she drew a map as she did.”
Map. I catch my breath. “Oh, my gosh. A map,” I sputter. “I saw it in her room, in one of her drawers. I knew that B-M-T looked familiar. It was on the map that Star has in her room!”
He rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. “Which is why I’ve got to get up there.”
“You? You knew about this all along?”
He nods. “That was the plan. Star wouldn’t leave until her father was dead. Wallow knew he was on dangerous ground, but he was too ill to make the journey. He knew his daughter wouldn’t be safe here. So the plan was to leave when Wallow died. Me, Star and her lady-in-waiting. And I always planned to come back later, and show everyone the way out.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Her lady-in-waiting?”
“I convinced her that the journey would be long and hard and that she’d need someone to carry her bag.” He smiles.
“Why would you do that?” I stare at him, waiting for an answer, but I think I already know. King Wallow had made arrangements with Tiam to protect Star when he was gone. My father did the same. Tiam had made a promise to my father to make sure I was safe. “You gave my father your word?”
He nods. “But, Coe, I would have done it anyway. I promise you that.”
And he never breaks his promises. “That’s why you fought with Finn.”
“Of course. Do you really think I’d want to be the last king of Tides? I’d gladly do what everyone else wanted and let Finn have the throne.” He shrugs. “But I knew I could save us. All I had to do was agree to marry Star. And then they would give me the map. And a way out. For everyone.”
“How long have you known about this?”
“Not long. A few tides.” He smiles. “You know how easy I am to figure out. Do you really think I could keep a secret as big as this for longer than that?”
I smile back, my heart melting at the way he’s looking at me. It’s the way I always dreamed of, and that’s when I think of Star and immediately feel guilty. To stop myself from wanting to kiss him again, I break eye contact and look at the laundry chute. “I can make it up there easy.”
He startles when he realizes what I’m talking about. “No way. I’m not letting you go. Not with Finn up there.” He contemplates the chute for a moment and then exhales. “You know how we got into that argument. It wasn’t about me ruling Tides so much as it was about you.”
I nearly choke. “Me?”
“Yeah. Well, I got that impression. Your name came up more than once. He wanted me to stay away from you.”
“No. He’s jealous of you. It wasn’t because of me,” I answer, remembering how Finn had said that every time he did anything, Tiam would come in and do it better. I think of his words, If I were king, I’d want you to be my queen, and shiver. “But that’s okay. I don’t have to see Finn at all.”
“How?”
“I’ll climb up the laundry chute and wait for the tide to recede. As soon as it does, I can go out, get the princess and the map, and be back here before the rest even leave the formation.”
He crosses his arms in front of himself. “That’s too dangerous. I should be doing it.”
“But it’s not a big deal. I can do it quickly. I’ve had practice,” I say, amazed at how certain my voice sounds. “I just hope she’s still there.”
His lips press together, and he clenches his fists and shakes his head.
I smile at him reassuringly. “Look, you’ve done enough. You just saved us from those things. And everyone has things they’re afraid of. It’s okay.”
“You’re not afraid of anything,” he whispers.
I snort. “Are you kidding? I’m afraid of just about everything.”
“But not so much that it stops you from doing things. You take on the things you’re afraid of. You don’t cower in a corner like a baby. Like me. I should be over it by now. I know that. But I’m...” He brings his chin to his chest.
I narrow my eyes. “Over what?”
“During my sixth season, I was locked in a drinking jug and tossed out into the ocean. Someone’s idea of fun. I was in there for three days, until I washed up on shore and Buck Kettlefish found me. If it weren’t for him, I’d be dead.” He sighs. “But ever since then...I don’t do so well in closed spaces.”
I figured it was something like that. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“Well, I just wanted to tell you that. Anyway,
that’s what started it. When the king found out I survived that, he thought it was a sign from the gods. That I was destined to be king.” He laughs. “At least that’s what he told me. He’s been watching me ever since then. Crazy, huh?”
I shrug. “Well, he did wear those crazy pink robes, so we always knew he wasn’t all there,” I say, thinking of the other sign that guided us, lit hope under us. Star. She was a sign from the gods, too, that we would be all right. Maybe the gods were right.
He starts to laugh some more, but quickly catches himself. “I wish I was as brave as you are. I don’t know how you do it. You’re fearless, Coe. They threw you in so many times. And yet you kept coming back. That night when I was chained in the castle, you went into the ocean to save me, even after—”
I’m lost. “Wait. What?”
His eyes widen. “They threw you into the ocean. Three or four times. No one else had survived that. But you were only a child, and every morning, there you’d be. Alive. You lost your hand, yes, but still you lived. They thought you were a demon. That if Star was sent to save them, you were sent to punish them.” He stares at me. “Are you telling me you don’t know this?”
“No, I—”
“Right. You don’t remember a lot of it. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“They thought I was a demon?” I ask, but of course it makes sense. The way they look at me. The way they’ve steered clear of me all this time. But how had I done something so impossible without remembering it in the least?
“Well, you did drown in the ocean, only to come back the next day. Nobody survives the ocean.”
“And how did I do that?” I wonder aloud, thinking about yesterday, when I’d been in the stores. I’d hit my head, lost consciousness, and yet, after the room swelled with water and drained, I woke, perfectly fine. And somehow, I’d managed to conquer the oceans, oceans no human has ever survived, as a small child.
Tiam watches me, gauging my reaction. “Coe. What are you thinking?”
I let out a snort. “I’m thinking something’s seriously odd about me. Maybe I am a demon? Or maybe I’m immortal?”
“You are not a demon,” he says with a small smile. “And don’t ask me to hit you with the shovel to prove you are mortal. I won’t do it.”
Just as I start to laugh, his face turns serious. “But one thing I do think about... The girl with the dark hair and pale skin.” He reaches over and gently wraps a tendril of hair around his finger, making my breathing quicken. His eyes trail to my lips, and I know he is wanting to kiss them as much as I want him to. “Like yours.”
Suddenly, a high-pitched scream echoes through the cavern, making my eardrums quake. Fern.
We rush back to the bunker as fast as we can. Fern is sitting up in the little bed, eyes wide. “Where were you?” she asks as I climb beside her and pull her into my lap. “I thought you left me alone.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, stroking her hair. “I’m here.”
The strange swishing noise we’d heard earlier from above has dissipated. I know what it means. The tide is going out. Tiam eyes me suspiciously. I know it will take every ounce of his strength to swallow his pride and let me go up the chute. I flash my most confident smile. It will be easy, I mouth to him. His muscles tighten, his jaw sets and he nods. Be careful, he mouths back.
And then I climb to the door of the chute.
Nineteen
This Hollow Valley
It’s precisely one heartbeat after I wiggle myself back into the chute that I remember. This is anything but easy. I vaguely recall telling myself the last time that I would rather drown or be devoured by scribblers than do this again. And yet here I am. Part of me thinks I am being too much of a pushover with Tiam; that I should have forced him to go instead of me. But then I remember the way his mouth felt on mine and there is no choice but to keep scaling the slick walls.
I climb until I’m weak, until my shoulders are buzzing with pain and my legs are numb. Sweat leaks into my eyes. I make it to the top and pry open the grate while the castle is still weeping, the water still swirling through the drains on the floors. I slide myself onto the stone floor with a great splash and, after massaging my sore limbs and taking in the cool, fresh air, crawl into the corridor. As expected, it’s empty.
I hurry through the hallway and up the steps, taking them two at a time. If I can persuade the princess quickly enough, we may be able to make it down the chute before the last of the water drains from my quarters. Simple.
At the top of the tower steps, I pause to rap on the wooden door, softly but firmly.
No answer.
“Princess. It’s Coe. Let me in.”
Nothing.
I reach down to twist the doorknob, but I don’t need to. The door is open a crack and creaks when I push. My eyes begin to water as some sickly sweet odor twists my stomach. Everything is a mess. Her bed is ripped apart, sheets strewn everywhere. The armoire of beautiful dresses is overturned, its contents spread over the stone floor in a sad rainbow. All of the desk drawers have been spilled. Her jars of perfumes have been smashed. And the princess is nowhere in sight.
I creep across the wreckage, wincing as the small bits of glass prick the soles of my feet, to the doorway to the king’s room. I don’t know why, but I shiver as I peek inside. Maybe it’s because the king died there. Maybe it’s because no one is allowed here. Or maybe it’s because I’ve come to hate the king so much, after what he’s done to us. The room is enclosed, stuffy and warm. There is a bit of a stench there, the sweet decay of death I’ve come to know so well. No windows at all, as if he wanted to keep us invisible to him. I gasp. Every wall is covered with pink seashells. They bulge from the walls unevenly, making the chamber look like the guts of some dead animal. But that’s not what holds my gaze.
There is a bed that a dozen people could lie across comfortably in the center of the room, the enormous headboard of which is also adorned in seashells. The mattress looks so soft and luxurious. I imagine his frail frame sinking into the center of it as he took in his last breath.
It is the bed from my dreams.
How is that possible? No one has ever been into the king’s room, save for the guards, the medic and the princess. And yet everything is exactly the same, down to the last detail, although perhaps not as enormous as I’d once pictured. How can that be, if I’ve never been here before?
I know the answer: I have been here. A long, long time ago, I’d lain across that bed, happy, carefree. It wasn’t a dream.
It was a memory.
I’d been in the king’s private quarters. But why? Why would he have allowed me there? I may have once been Star’s playmate, but I was also a demon. That’s what Tiam said they thought I was. Why would I have been granted access to a place for only the most privileged people?
I tear my eyes away from the bed and peer around the room. “Princess?” I whisper, losing all the confidence I’d had when I told Tiam my plan.
I retrace my steps to the princess’s quarters and in that moment remember the map. I rush to the desk and rifle through the items that have been scattered around the floor, spilling her container of stick pins and picking through a pile of delicate silk and lace scarves. It’s not there.
Helpless, I look out her window, at the balcony. The red flag that has always flown there, tattered and faded, flaps in the wind loudly, as if to taunt me. You’re too late. Past it, the cement formation stands, the ocean around it slowly receding. From here, the sight is so pitiful and strange. No wonder his room had no windows. I don’t know how anyone could have gazed at it every day and been okay with knowing that he’d put us there. Bodies crush together at its surface so tightly I can’t make out a single one. Star could be among them. She could still be okay. But even as I think it, I know it’s unlikely. Silly girl that she is, she’d probably sooner drown than su
rround herself with commoners.
Now what do I do? Everything I came for is gone.
For a moment I think I’ll go back, explain to Tiam that she’s gone, and I’ve done all I can. But he’d never settle for that. Not for a mere theory that she’s dead. He’d need evidence. He’d try to find a way back up to the surface to ensure that there’s nothing more that could be done. As I’m thinking, I approach the balcony and see a flash of something in the very corner of my eye that makes me jump.
The pink that could only be the king’s robe. Finn.
He’s standing on the balcony, arms crossed, surveying the scene. My stomach drops. Sweat blooms on my forehead, immediately running down my temples and stinging my eyes. I slowly turn to leave, my movements unhurried and careful, so as not to alert him. But at that moment he throws a lock of his hair back behind his ear and catches sight of me. Rage engulfs his face. He’s inside before I can break into a run, and he latches on to my stump. No one has ever touched me there, and I howl, more from fear than the pain. “Coe!” he shouts, wrenching my arm as I fight to free myself, like a fish on a line.
“Let me go!”
“Tending to the princess, were you?” he breathes. He succeeds in catching my other arm and pulls me to him, then wraps his arms around my waist as I kick and flail. But it’s no use. He’s easily as big as two of me. His grip doesn’t loosen until I stop kicking, and when he speaks again, his voice is calmer. “You have to come with me.”
I know that I, like Tiam, have aroused suspicions one too many times, and people who act suspiciously cannot be allowed to live in Tides. It has always been that way.
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