“You’re Islish, too,” I said.
“Ah, here and there.I’m only the good parts of being Islish.All the rest, I have abandoned.”She stretched her neck, pulling at her tunic collar with a few fingers.The motion was endlessly graceful, proud, and if I’m being honest, alluring.I was struck with jealousy—by how beautiful she was and how sharp her smile—but then I saw the stains on her collarbone as she stretched.Sea dog markings.Tattooing the skin was against prescription on the Isle, meaning her very body was illegal and punishable.
Dania stuck her tongue out devilishly.
“My wellness is to be put in the hands of a stranger,” I said as a way of pleading with her.I meant: I need you to stop upsetting me, because I have many grand upsets already, and though you are nothing resembling a friend, you are all I have in this land.And then I looked away from her because she was enjoying my misery a little too much.
Even from a distance, I could hear drums from within the hall—at least four distinct instruments beating heavy and sparse, muffled by the thickness of the door.I felt my heart slowing to match the rhythm.There was a rattling sort of sound as well, along with the ringing of teeny metal bells and the hushed whooping sound large birds make, only it was definitely human voices making the bird calls.
The moment the guard heaved the door open for us, I was endlessly grateful to Dania for tending to my hair.
A sea of eyes surged into me, and I found myself at a loss as to where to look first.There were more people in the hall than I’d ever seen in one place, though of course now I know this was not such a large gathering.Fur-clad men with gold-plated teeth sat next to women with their fingertips dyed blue.Cross-legged drummers lounged on the floor with their instruments, spectators sprawled every which way with no regard for poise or posture.A slew of face-painted sea dogs that refused categorization.Chests.Tattoos.Bones woven into long braids.The skin and eyes of those gathered varied greatly, but almost everyone had white-blond hair.
Pinkbeard was there.He sat at a table along the room’s edge, absentmindedly tipping his chair back on its two hind legs.Speartooth sat beside him.They both held goblets as they laughed among themselves.
Fell, I reminded myself, and just as I did, his eyes shot up to mine, and he wasn’t laughing anymore.He tipped his chair forward so it rested on all its legs again.
King Arik sat on the arm of the same grand chair as before, listening attentively to a pacing man in a birch-white tunic that seemed brilliantly out of place among the fur and skin and rough-spun linen around him.The moment he noticed we arrived, the king turned his glowing eyes on me and waved me forward.
I obeyed, stepping into the fog of cedar smudge smoke.I took slow steps, trying to retain some of the formality my stance usually had, but without a structured gown, my steps felt too light and spaced out.And then I felt like I was taking things too far the other way, shortening my steps unnaturally to make up for it.
With so many eyes on me, and the almost-continual spurts of laughter leaving me certain jests were being made at my expense, I felt even more naked than I would have in just the thin dress.I kept my head down as I passed sea dog after sea dog, not missing the way several of them sniffed the air as I passed.
The king smiled at me when I neared and then said, quite sternly.“This is one of my dearest friends.Show him your hand.”The music wasn’t quiet, but I still heard each subtle intonation in his voice.He nodded to the pacing man in the bright, white tunic.
The man promptly stopped pacing and stood straight.He then hunched a little as he put his hands behind his back.Then he rearranged himself entirely, tugging on his tunic and standing up straight once more before approaching.
His eyes were the colour of blackthorn and full of warmth.His skin was tan apart from a pale scar on his shaved chin.He raised his own hand and held it out expectantly.I looked first to Dania and then to the king, hoping for some explanation.
“Give him your hand, Gentlewoman,” King Arik said, his voice doubling in force.It was unpleasant to have him repeat himself.
I raised my hand slowly, wondering if this was some sort of greeting.On the Isle, the southernmost clans kissed women’s hands when first meeting.
The man took my hand and turned it over, studying my palm with meticulous care.His lips moved as if he were speaking, though no sound came out.
When he looked back up at my face, I nearly cried.His sorrow was so palpable, I could taste tears in the back of my throat.He spoke to the king, and Dania spoke to me.
“He says you are a bird who has accidentally eaten a rune stone.”
“What?”My brow was beginning to grow sore from how much furrowing it had done as of late.
“He means, I think… he is a reader, so there are probably more meanings, but the common way to understand this is that you?—”
“A reader?”I said.
“He means you are a twist ofskael,” the king interrupted.
“Skaal.”I tried repeating the foreign word, but myaaa-sound felt entirely different from King Arik’s.
“Do not bother with this word,” Dania said.“Skaelis too many things.It’s not an easy word to learn.I still only half understand it, and that’s because everyone’sskaelis different, you see?”
King Arik tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at her.
She grinned.“You would say it another way?”This comment, I think, reveals a lot about Dania.This was the second time she’d met the king, and she talked to him as if he were any ordinary man.It was something that had shocked me at the time, but now, I find endearing.
“No.Your translation is fine.”King Arik tugged on his necklace—an eye-shaped pendant.A familiar eye…
He noticed me looking, and his eyes blazed even brighter.“Not so unassuming as you pretend, eh?”
