Selena showed me how to hunt as a team, one chasing the fish into a trap, the other ready to catch. We followed a school of sea bass, easy to trace from the sheen of their bright, silvery bodies under blue metallic fins.
“Avoid grabbing them from their backs. Their dorsal fins have sharp spines that will slice you,” Selena warned. “They tend to swim up when they’re trying to make a getaway. Come up underneath their belly and take them by surprise.”
Driving headfirst into the school sent them scattering, their shining scales aimed in all directions like hundreds of little mirrors. I was flooded with nostalgia. A far away memory of the beaches of Leihani, my Nani and father chatting in the background while I ran on toddler legs into flocks of birds, watching them lift over my head and fly, squawking in irritation.
Selena burst up from below, a fish in each hand, then let me have a try.
Twenty minutes later, we broke the surface, and despite my forced contract, my aching tail, and my anger at Kye, I found myself laughing.
I hadn’t caught a thing.
33
Before I knew it, two weeks had passed.
My ankle improved. At least, I could climb the stairs without gripping the handrail so hard it felt like I was trying to strangle a small creature with my hand.
Selena moved my studies to her set of rooms. An unfortunate change, as her apartment sat directly beside Thaan’s.
Sitting curled in my chair across from her, I reviewed the textbook from that morning.
A knock sounded from behind us, and we glanced at the closed door. Footsteps receded away. I narrowed my eyes, knowing who lived on the other side.
Selena scooped up the book. “We’ll call it a night and pick this back up in the morning. Why don’t you head back to your rooms. Do you need help finding them?”
“No,” I said, pushing to my feet.
She nodded, reaching for her cup of tea, which she threw back in a motion very unlike herself. Then she disappeared through the door, leaving me alone at her table.
“What is it?” Selena’s voice snapped through the other side of the wall.
Something crinkled in response, like paper being unfolded.
A brief silence came and went.
“She’ll hear us here. Is your office empty?”
“I believe so,” Thaan’s drawl answered.
A door opened and closed, muffled under the barriers of stone and glass.
I hesitated where I stood. Then I followed.
The hallway was empty. I tiptoed down the narrow corridor, slowing as I reached the top of the stairs. They’d already descended. I could faintly hear their hearts beating and knew they could hear mine.
But I’d spent enough time in the palace to have some idea of where Thaan’s advisory office lay. Waiting for them to gain enough of a lead that I could no longer hear them, I let my feet lead me toward the eastern wing where I knew they were headed.
The sky was a deep blue that verged on black as I stepped outside, taking the long way over the parapet wall. A hint of lighter cerulean splashed over the western ocean in the distance, the stars just waking up from their sleep. A soft wind grazed my cheek. It was the best kind of wind, strong enough to dance with wind chimes, gentle enough to avoid trouble. I scanned for Selena under the cover of the arched gables and caught the sheen of her violet dress through the window of a sky bridge just as she tucked under a door and disappeared.
They’d been faster than I thought.
Ignoring the young couple who gazed at me with curiosity, I hurried down the stairs after them, my mind churning for a way to eavesdrop without my own heartbeat giving me away.
It turned out to be fairly easy.
The palace secretaries outside Thaan’s office were still hard at work, filing notices and copying letters. Thaan’s office door was shut, but his name was scrawled over the wood grain, easy enough to find. I sat on the bench just outside, pretending I was waiting for him.
“We should have waited for the glass box to reach completion,” his voice said, his tone devoid of emotion.
