It took a moment before the sea serpent noticed, extracted himself from the swarming dolphins, and swam closer to the sailboat. He trilled a query.
Dax repeated his question: “Do all sea serpents sing, or are you unique?”
He curved his body so that it rose and fell out of the water in an undulating pattern, and he sang an octave run that ended in a sour note.
Marin laughed. It was easy to translate that. “He said all sea serpents sing, but some of them do it really badly.”Definitely more intelligent than most. And with a better sense of humor.
Dax grinned. “Perri, will you sing with me?”
In answer, Perri warbled a high note.
While Dax positioned himself on the bow of the boat, the sea serpent danced merrily around them, tossing off random notes, until Dax began to play on his three-necked lute. In minutes, music was dancing around the sailboat.
Dax’s voice was low and furry, far sweeter than she’d have expected—she’d heard the piercing notes that rang out of the conservatory windows from some of the other musicians. His was gentle. It dovetailed with the sea serpent’s crystal clear bell-like tones that traveled over the waves. She listened as she sailed. This… was pleasant.
Ree sidled up to her ankle. She expected him to comment on the music or the rescue. Instead, he said, “You really think you can teach me to swim?”
“Sure.” She had no idea. It occurred to her that she’d never taught anyone to swim before, human or plant, and she wasn’t certain where to start. She’d been swimming practically since she could walk, possibly before. She supposed she’d just start them off the way she had. “First thing we need to do is find some sea turtles.”
“Yay!” Ree bounced enthusiastically. “Where do we find turtles? Also, why turtles?”
Marin scanned the horizon and adjusted the sails to aim for the third visible peak of land, pale purple at this distance. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they don’t eat you.”
He stopped bouncing. “What?”
They were almost to the island that Marin thought of as Turtle Island (though its true name was Galap) when the stowaway made himself known.
Leaving Ree to monitor the sails, Marin had gone belowdecks to use the head. It was only when she finished and was about to return topside that she heard:
“Miw.”
Marin froze.
It was a sound she knew well, growing up on Flicker. She inhaled and exhaled.
Not that long ago, it had been just her by herself on this boat—with Perri, of course, but he couldn’t fit in the cabin even with its sorcerous expansion, and he’d sinkSilverif he tried to beach himself on the deck. So, really, she’d had quite a bit of privacy. She supposed the loss of it was entirely her own fault. She’d had a choice and had said yes every time.
Crouching, Marin held out her hand and called, “Pssst, psst, psst, here, kitty.”
An orange cat with purple wings climbed out of one of Dax’s bags.
“Are you hungry?” Marin asked him. “Would you like a fish?”
He would indeed like a fish. He trotted closer and allowed Marin to scratch his cheek. He then flopped onto the floor, his wings askew under him, and displayed his belly.
“Is this a trap?” Marin asked. She rubbed the fluffy orange belly anyway and was pleased that it wasn’t a trap. The cat swatted, claws retracted, at her hand and nipped the air near her fingers, but then he began to purr.
“Are you here by accident, or did you intentionally stow away?” Marin asked.
He, being a cat, didn’t answer.
Standing, she said, “Come on. Let’s get you fed.” She didn’t watch to see if the cat followed her. Above deck, she announced to Dax and Ree, “We’ve been adopted by a cat.”
Ree shook his leaves in confusion.
The orange cat poked his nose out of the cabin.
“Oh, it’s you!” Dax said, delighted. “I tried to find you.”
