Page 67 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

“What do you know of it?”

“Why do you ask so many questions, girl?” She glared at me, then glanced quickly at the soldiers talking among themselves, then back to digging. “If you want to survive here, do as you’re told.”

Minha, Ranis, and Jina each dug out a sapphire and an emerald. We went from prying oysters to gemstones. I didn’t know how long we worked, but exhaustion made my stomach grumble.

“When do we eat?” Ranis whispered sharply. “These poor kids must be starving, mate.”

Just then the same little girl with blond hair collapsed on the dirt. Ranis kneeled beside her. “Sweetheart, you okay?”

“What’s going on?” The lead soldier stomped over.

Minha’s hand went near her dagger, and so did mine. Jina gasped, but she held tight to her pick. She might be frightened, but I knew if her friends were in danger, she would act.

“She needs food and water,” Ranis said. “If you treat the workers with poor care, you’ll get no results.”

“Not my doing.” He grabbed Ranis and pulled him up by his shirt. “You’re lucky the queen wants to send you to the creature, or I’d kill you myself. Take her to the stream toward the back if you want. Hurry. Don’t waste time.”

Ranis cradled the little girl in his arms and took her to the stream. He laid the girl’s head on his lap, scooped water in his cupped hand, and let it slowly drip into her mouth. I’d always thought Ranis was a good man, but I didn’t know how much he cared for others.

We continued our duty until the sun went down. I shivered as the cool air seeped through. Unlike the cavern in Jeju where they’d fed us oyster and seaweed soup, we were served a bowl of stew with carrots, potatoes, and some kind of meat. While the soldiers ate up top, we ate on the ground or on small boulders.

“Do you have a name?” I asked to no one in particular as I took a sip.

The older woman I’d stood beside while working sat on the boulder next to me, leaned close, and whispered. “My name is Hellena, but in here, we have no name.”

Another girl with a cut on her eyebrow murmured, “They dehumanize you if you have no name. You are nothing, that’s what the queen told us.”

Minha chewed on a carrot. “How did the little ones get here?”

Hellena sighed. “The orphans were sent here recently when the others were killed by the creature.”

Jina’s knuckles whitened around her bowl. “What creature?” She glanced toward the stream where the dark had thickened, then leaned closer to Ranis.

“Beyond the tunnel,” Hellena said, tracking a shape in the dirt with one calloused finger, “are pure stones, so we are told. Clear as water, and they sparkle a thousand times brighter in the sunlight. And for some reason, the creature guards them with its life.”

“How does the queen know what’s in there?” Jina scooped a potato with her fingers, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I suppose she heard stories,” Hellena said, her gaze flicking toward the black mouth of the tunnel.

“She sure didn’t go past the tunnel,” another girl said, then looked at Ranis. “Who is he? There are no male workers. The queen doesn’t want retaliation, so she sent only females here.”

“The queen doesn’t know my kind.” Minha pulled her shell dagger from her shirt and stabbed it into the beef.

“Where did you get that?” Hellena set her bowl down and waited. “I’ve never seen a dagger with a pearl on it.”

I’d never seen Minha’s dagger up close, but on the hilt, a single tiny white pearl was embedded.

Minha met my gaze without answering, then said, “It’s something I made. Not important.”

“I never got one.” Jina’s lips turned downward.

“Here.” Minha reached behind her waistband and handed one to Jina. “I was waiting for you to ask. I made this one for you.”

“Thanks.” Jina smiled, examining the shell blade, darker than ours.

The little girl beside me—the one I’d noticed first when I’d entered, her dark hair matted with dust, her thin soles caked black from the mine floor—started singing, her voice clear and unbroken, untouched by everything around her.

“The pearls that they took were the tears that we shed. For the sisters we lost and the mothers long dead. But the tide always turns and the sea always calls, a star in the darkness will unite us all.”