A slew of island men dispersed, birds taking flight at a loud noise.
The man in the center met my eyes, knowing I’d caught him looking. He flashed a slow smile.
I think, maybe, that’s what drew my attention. Amongst an island of people curious about me, Ano smiled when everyone else pretended to look away. He smiled at me as though he’d claimed me the day he found me. As though I were already his. A part of his island.
A thing to be loved.
Sunset in Leihani splashed the world in measureless pinks and oranges. The horizon sank into the far reaches of time, the sky and sea amaranthine. A full moon rose in the east. The sleepy sun hung in the west. The sand and palms flushed with a luminous glow.
Good luck followed when the full moon shared the sky with the father sun, Ano had said.
I crossed my fingers he was right. He watched the silver orb rise over the water with me, our heads crowned with circlets of lobelia flowers woven by his sister, Palunu.
We were married by torch fire.
The island cheered.
Ano picked me up before I even took a step, hauling me over his shoulder like a hunter’s bounty, and even the sailors watching from their ship deckslaughed, their pipes in their mouths and their arms crossed with humor. Ano carried me up the embankment to his little house.
I’d long since traded my cotton for bark, my shoes for bare toes. Pins hadn’t seen the roots of my hair for weeks. The only thing that styled my blue-black strands now was the wind, twisting and pulling whenever it stroked itself across my brow.
Ano dropped me to my feet at the top stair of his veranda. His mother used to live with him in this house, but she’d moved to Palunu’s little hut when his sister announced she was with child. They passed us on the pathway on their way back, along with the rest of the islanders.
“Wait,” Palunu called, running up the stairs and shoving her brother away from me. She brushed a fine grain of sand from my jaw, smoothing my hair behind my ears in such a Selena-like motion, I swallowed a sudden thickness in my throat.
“There,” she said, winking at me. “Now. If he’s horrible, please forgive him. He's an idiot. He has no idea what to do.”
“Goodnight, Palunu,” Ano said, taking hold of her arm and guiding her down the steps.
She flapped out of his grasp, laughing. “Be gentle with his feelings, Alana. He’s very fragile. He cries easily.”
Ano sent her into the arms of her husband Naheso. Then waved her off like an offensive smell in the air.
“He’s also afraid of the dark,” she leaned across Naheso’s chest to call at me. “He jumps at the sound of the wind. If your night is truly terrible—” Naheso turned her around, marching her down the trail. She angled her face over his shoulder. “You’re always welcome to sleep at my house!”
I watched them go, a tight pinch swirling in my chest. They’d taken me in, an island of people. Given me a home. Had dressed my body. Had taught me to weave and garden and carve wood. Had bloomed curiosity into friendship. Had lovingly offered me one of their own to marry.
They’d shown me welcome in every moment I’d spent here.
It would all end by morning.
Ano swept my hair away from my neck, dropping a kiss behind my shoulder, a sparkle in his volcanic eyes. Then he ducked under his door flap, leaving me to listen to the crickets sing.
My hand lowered to my side.
It had only taken four scales to secure the blood betrayal to my hip. At a distance, it was invisible. Even close, the bronze in my scales might have only been a birthmark. I drew the drop away, letting my scales recede into my flesh.
I’d considered at length which day I’d take it—Deimos’s parting gift to me. I could have used it that very first day. Introduced myself, explained how I’d appeared in the middle of the water with no trace of how I’d arrived.
I could have saved it for my final day. Stretched my life by twenty-four hours, soaking every last bit of island air before my lungs gave their final heave.
But in the moments I found myself staring into Ano’s eyes, I’d realized my answer. It had evolved in my head as slowly as the moon decided to wax and wane, but once it took shape, it shone as bright as Theia among the stars.
Tonight, I willcordae. Tonight, I willcordae free.
I popped Thaan’s blood onto my tongue, swallowing with a handful of fresh water from the bucket at my feet.
The weight of my vow lifted almost as soon as the gulp hit my stomach, a burden on my shoulders that had hardened since I left Calder and would only grow heavier in the days that followed. My vocal cords strengthened, a soothing caress down my throat. A fire that had burned me for months on end quietly extinguished. I flexed my fingers and smiled. Then followed Ano under the door flap.
