Nori narrowed her eyes. Olinne, following the exchange with a look of bewilderment, raised her brows as she waited for a point easy enough to follow.
“If we could only locate the man…” I said, allowing my voice to trail.
Nori lowered her chin. “You jest.”
I smiled shyly. “How deep can you dive?”
A light flickered across Olinne’s face. “You wishusto find him? A humanman? An ugly, filthy, slimy traitor?”
I hopped down from the rock, deciding the tide was low enough to begin hunting clams. Wading to the sand, I pressed a toe into a nearby depression, watching as bubbles surfaced a moment later. “I’m not asking you to save his life. He’s already dead, I’m sure.”
Olinne balked. “It is unheard of.”
Fishing a clam out of the earth, I bit my lip, bracing against the sensation of Naiad eyes boring holes in my back. “The ship is one of our best merchants,” I explained, keeping my voice cautiously level. “They spend a great deal of time trading here. If they can’t access the hold, they can’t carry our fish to their custom. And if they can't carry the fish, they won't buy the fish.”
Olinne flicked her tail. “It is not our trouble.”
“Perhaps not,” I said, turning to look the Naiad in the eye. “But I am an islander of Leihani. We depend on our exports. It’smytrouble.”
Olinne opened her mouth, and Nori silenced her with a hand in the air. Long and graceful, she contorted herself sideways, spine twisting from the rock. “It is against our laws, the aid of man.”
I pursed my lips, tearing my gaze away to scowl at the surf breaking over my feet.
The same happened the year I was born. I don’t remember any of it, but I often heard the stories. A sailor who carried the keys to his ship’s hold went missing. The fish had been abundant, but without a locksmith on the island, the ship had left without its purchase during the peak of fishing season. Leihaniians could only stare at barrels of unsold tuna, too much to eat before it all spoiled, and in the following months the island suffered under the weight of Calderian taxes.
It had taken three years to climb out of the debt of lost fish. Three years of selling our own meals, just so the crown could take its coin. Three years of losing infants and the elderly to starvation.
They’d blamed my mother for the missing sailor, even though she’d had her own child to worry about. I didn’t have a child, leaving me with an even weaker defense than she’d had. I knew who’d suffer the blame if the sailor wasn’t found.
“If we discovered the man and brought you his keys,” Nori reasoned, “It would be unwise foryou, Maren, to be the one to deliver him.”
I’d already considered this. Though the man had disappeared before the ship entered the harbor, the whispers of the islanders trailed my heels as I climbed into myva’athat morning.
Witch. Enchanter. Seductress.
I dropped the clam gently into the bucket. “His body would need to wash ashore. Preferably overnight. When the other women can’t claim I was involved.”
I sensed their appalled stares, and my neck grew warm from a heat that didn’t fall from the sun. It was unfair to ask such a favor, knowing how they feared humans—especially men. Even worse to ask a favor at night, interrupting their Naiad rituals.
But I was desperate.
Nori tilted her chin, gazing down at me from her rock. “We would need something in return.”
I stilled, my eyes flicking to the Naiad. Suddenly, I felt nine years old again.
Who are you? I’d asked the fish-women the first time an icy chill trickled down my spine, thirteen years ago.
Naiads,Nori had said simply.Born from the waters of Theia herself. We number two, but we search for a third. A Steward of the Land. It’s through the Triad we will find balance.
In my formative years, the Naiads had spent hours educating me. They spoke openly of my desire for Stewardship, as if it were a meal laid bare on a table for them to eat and drink at will. But in recent years, I’d matured from such hopeful and candid speech. I’d been waiting ages for the Naiads to tell me I’d finally accomplished the task they’d given me the day we met. That I’d mastered how to create and preserve life. That I was ready to become their third—whatever that meant.
Straightening over my bucket, I gazed at Nori, ignoring the wind as it played with the rogue strands of my braided hair.
“What must I do?”
6
The Naiads had tried to convince me to enter Nahli's home before. I'd always refused, determined to respect the goddess’ slumber.
