Drowned (16 page)

“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 Even if the king’s rule is no longer valid, then nature’s rule should persist.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?”

Suddenly 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.”

As close as I press myself toward Fern, it’s not nearly enough to stop me from rubbing against Finn. He taunts me again and again with his body, moving closer to me every time I move away. An attack from all directions: Finn on one side, Fern on the other, her fingernails digging into my thighs, the ocean all around, closing in. How much longer can I take this?

By the time the tide gets closest, I’m halfway in Fern’s spot, and Finn is taking up his own, as well as most of mine. When the water climbs up the sides of the platform and the waves begin to pound loudly against it, I cringe and try to concentrate on the sky. But there is no moon. Instead, heavy clouds blanket the heavens. And then it begins to rain. Not a heavy, pounding rain, but a thin drizzle that’s enough to make steam rise from the hot ground. Soaked, I shudder and feel Fern trembling beside me. She doesn’t ask me for a story, and I’m glad of that; my jaw is clenched so tightly to stop my teeth from rattling that my mouth couldn’t form the words.

Tiam would always stand at the very center of his circle; he would take advantage over no one. I was smaller and more feeble (not to mention willing), so he could easily have taken some of my space. But he never did. Finn, however, towers over me, and I feel his skin against mine, hot and damp with sweat and rain. Several times I elbow him in the hips, not as much by accident as I pretend it is.

I think about what he’d said only a few tides ago.
If I were king, I’d want you to be my queen.
That seems so long ago. I don’t look at him. I know it’s better to ignore him. Ignore him and hope we can eventually bury whatever is brewing between us.

When it is all over, the clouds have parted to welcome the bright stars, but Fern is still trembling. Our bodies are sticky and soaked. Someone on the other end of the formation screams as if they’re being murdered, and she grabs me tighter. Burbur is talking with Ana, who is motioning to me. Burbur seems to be shrinking away, her eyes wide with innocence. Something about honey. The word
honey,
once foreign to us all, is now the hottest topic of conversation since the scribblers learned to bury themselves in the sand. People are obviously comfortable with the word now, because I hear it whispered all around me. And they’re all looking at me as they say it. When Burbur finishes the conversation, she turns to me and her wide-eyed innocence dissolves to hatred.
What did you do?
she mouths.

And I know. I know my mistake will cost me dearly. The honey will never be seen as a peace offering. Instead, it’s the first shot in this war.

Finn, who’d been talking with a bunch of men, turns to me, his garish pink robe flapping in the breeze. He says, “Honey?”

Oh, I’d do anything to have him, have them, unhear that word. To strike it from their knowledge. I turn to leave, but he catches my arm.

“Coe, where’d you get it?”

I shrug. “From the princess. She was trying to make peace.”

He snorts. “But you know it shouldn’t have been there. Something tells me that we’ll need to go down and see what else is in the
empty
stores.”

I shake my head. I just want to go away, but there is no escape.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Coe, get away from the castle,” he warns. “Go anywhere. But don’t go there. There’s going to be trouble, and I want you to stay out of it.” He holds in a breath and slowly exhales. “You may hate me, but I still made a promise I’d look out for you.”

I shake my head. “What are you going to do?” But I already know. I can tell the way the rest of the men are sizing up the giant stone building ahead of us. They are going to attack the castle.

“Coe, I—”

Desperate, I push up against him. “You can’t hurt the princess. Her guards—”

I stop when I notice the way he’s looking at me, his jaw clenched. He plucks my wrist off of his chest with his calloused hand, very gently despite the menacing look on his face. He can’t believe I’m still thinking about the princess, that selfish, spoiled brat. Of all the words he could use to convey his disappointment, he chooses complete silence, which is probably the most effective response of all. He simply turns and walks to the edge of the platform, leaving me to wallow in my guilt.

Fern is sitting on her circle, waving her magic wand in the air with one hand and clutching her tummy with the other. She’s hungry. “Come with me,” I say, grabbing her by the hand and rushing toward the ladder.

She looks confused, but follows anyway. When we reach the entrance to the castle, Fern’s eyes widen. “I can’t go in there. I have to clean the craphouse. And where’s the shovel? Ana will be so mad.”

“Fern, don’t worry. I will look out for you.” We hurry up to the castle doors. I have never known a time between tides when two guards weren’t stationed outside the doors. But they’re not there now. We pass right on through. The hallway is empty.

“What are we doing here?” Fern asks as we climb the stairs.

“We have to get the princess.”

I’m halfway up the staircase when one of the guards, who I’m sure used to be in the service of the princess only a tide before, appears on the landing above. He catches sight of me and immediately turns and runs in the other direction. “Finn!” I hear him shout.

Oh, no. “Change in plans,” I whisper, taking her by the wrist and leading her back down the stairs. The princess will just have to use some of her royal superiority to fend for herself, for now. We creep down the deserted hallway toward the stores. “Let’s go find Tiam.”

“But he’s dead,” Fern says as I find the key in my bag. My hand is slick with sweat as I reach for the door and realize that it’s already open. Somebody is already down here. Perhaps it is Burbur, but now, it could be anybody.

“Quiet. Hurry,” I whisper, ushering her down the staircase. In the distance, I see firelight bobbing in the darkness. Someone is in the corridor to the right. I steer Fern to the left, toward the honey room. It’s nighttime, and even the moon seems to be hiding, anticipating the terror to come. The dark presses against us until I know how Tiam must feel in closed spaces. Everything in my bag is damp as I rifle around, looking for my flint.

“It’s so dark here!” Fern’s voice is high and fragile.

“Do you have anything to make a light?”

“Uh-huh.” Fern’s platinum head bobs as if it’s on a fishing line. She reaches into her own bag, a little too slowly for my liking, and pulls out her flint.

There’s a bit of moonlight streaming through a high window in the wall, farther down the corridor. That’s what we’ll have to go by. My eyes have adjusted a bit more, and it’s not as bad. “Come on,” I say, tugging on her sleeve.

“Aren’t you going to light that?” she asks.

“Not yet.” It’s not safe yet. But I don’t tell her that. She’s worried enough as it is.

The dripping noise sounds like footsteps sweeping down the staircase behind us, so every few steps I look over my shoulder only to see nothing. We make it to the honey room, and I quickly open the door, then slam it shut when we’re inside. In the dark.