Kingdom of Sea and Stone Page 2

  Mother and Father exchanged a look I couldn’t interpret. “You can try,” Mother said, surprising me. “He has always been fond of you. But we’ll wait until after sundown, so you aren’t seen. If Phaedra catches sight of you... Well, who knows what she’s capable of?”

  My eyebrows rose. “Does she really wield that much power?”

  “When the emissary came to pay your bride price, Phaedra told him you had switched places with Zadie. Our water supply was cut off not long after. In the wake of that event, she convinced the villagers that your betrayal of the king caused all our hardships,” Father said gently. “I don’t think we can be too cautious.”

  I thought I saw the sheen of tears in Mother’s eyes, but she blinked before I could be sure. “Zadie, come help me. I caught a sunfish, and I intend to make a feast of it.”

  Now it was my turn to gape. “You caught a fish?”

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Mother snapped as she lifted the trapdoor. “Catching a fish is nothing compared to raising twin daughters.”

  As the hours passed, my worry about how Governor Kristos would perceive my presence in Varenia only grew, especially knowing that Sami had been banished for “conspiring” with me.

  “What if Kristos refuses to see me?” I asked Zadie, who handed me another fishing net to mend. Normally I would have found any excuse to avoid such a boring task, but keeping busy was the best way to pass the time.

  “We won’t let him,” Zadie said, though judging by the way she was pulverizing the fish for our supper, she was as anxious as I was.

  “If only we had some way of knowing if Sami made it to land.” I dropped the net and began pacing over the floorboards. Kristos would welcome me with open arms in that case.

  “Surely he would have gone to see the kite seller if he had.”

  The kite seller. Of course. He was Sami’s best contact on land, as far as we knew, and Sami trusted him to keep his secrets. “What exactly did the kite seller say to you when you saw him at the port market?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “And for the love of Thalos, stop pacing! You’re making me nervous.”

  I took a seat on one of our driftwood stools. “You said he gave you the rose, but did he say anything to you? Did he give you any hint that he might have seen Sami?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. When I arrived at the tent, he was already packing away his kites for the day. He smiled when he saw me—he must have thought I was you—and handed me the rose.”

  I put my hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing. “You’re right. He would have thought you were me,” I mumbled. “Which means he thought he was giving me the rose. You’re sure he didn’t say anything?”

  “I suppose he must have, but I was so worried about finding you.” She chewed absently on a fingernail, an old habit I hadn’t seen since Mother put bitter squid ink on Zadie’s fingertips. “I do remember several Ilarean guards walking past us, which seemed to make him anxious. He was humming a tune over and over. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.”

  I leaped up from the stool, too excited to sit still. “Try to remember it, Zadie. It’s important. He wouldn’t have been humming for no reason. It was a message, I’m sure of it.”

  Zadie still looked doubtful. “Why wouldn’t he have just told me?”

  “You said the market was crawling with guards. He had to be careful.” I turned to look at my parents, who had just emerged from their room. “Sami was at the port market. He left a coded message for me.”

  Father scratched at his head, and Mother looked more skeptical than hopeful. “What message?”

  “The rose, and a song, if Zadie can remember it.”

  “I could remember it much more easily if everyone would be quiet!” Zadie had taken up my pacing and was still worrying at a jagged nail with her teeth. “It reminded me of our childhood,” she added in a softer voice.

  “A lullaby?” Mother suggested.

  Zadie shook her head. “No, something more obscure than that. Maybe one of those songs Sami used to sing, the ones he picked up at market?”

  I hopped in place, more certain than ever that I was on the right track. “The one about the goat and the donkey?” It hadn’t been my favorite, since I had no idea what a goat or a donkey looked like, but Sami assured me it was funny.

  “No, no. Something pretty, but with a melancholy tune.”

  I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward me. “‘My horse has a mane of handspun gold, and hooves of finest silver?’ That one?” It was a song that Sami had taught me when we were twelve or thirteen. I had never seen a horse then either, but Thalos knew I had imagined them a thousand times.

  “Maybe. Can you sing it?”

  I hummed the tune, then gasped as the final line came back to me. “‘And roses red around her neck, for no other horse is finer.’ Red roses, Zadie!”

  I spun my bewildered sister in my arms. “I don’t understand,” she replied.

  “Sami is alive!”

  Zadie planted her feet to stop my spinning, and I waited for the room to come back into focus. “What if I’m wrong about the song?” Zadie asked. “What if it’s just a coincidence?”

  “It is not a coincidence,” I insisted. “We have to tell the governor.”

  “I’m sorry, Nor, but you can’t tell Kristos about the song,” Mother said.

  Father placed his hand on my shoulder. “I understand that you want to help. But it might give him false hope.”

  I hesitated. Maybe they were right. If I was wrong about this, Kristos would have even less reason to trust me. But hope was hope, and Varenia had been in short supply of it for too long. I couldn’t go to the governor’s house and prove to him that Ceren was dead and Varenia was free, but I could give him this.

  “It’s not false hope,” I said, lifting the trapdoor. “Sami is alive. I know it.”

  I wouldn’t give up on finding Sami, no matter what everyone else thought. Not only was he imperative to Zadie’s happiness, but he had risked his life twice to see me at the port market, and it was his loyalty to Zadie and me that had made him an easy target for Phaedra. If the tables were turned, there was no question Sami would search for me.

  The only real question was whether, once I found him, I could return to a place that had turned its back on me and the people I loved.

  And more importantly, would I even want to?

  2

  “I can’t believe they wouldn’t even hear me out.”

  I sat on the bed next to Zadie, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. My conversation with Governor Kristos had gone horribly. In the past, I had been one of the only villagers allowed inside his house, thanks to the close relationship between him and my father. But today, I could barely get out my theory about Sami and the kite seller without Kristos speaking over me.

  Far more painful than his dismissiveness was the realization that he didn’t believe I had killed Ceren. Every time I spoke Ceren’s name, I flashed back to my last moments with him, the warmth of his blood on my hands, the sheer hatred in his eyes. It was bad enough that I had stabbed him; the fact that no one believed me made it a hundred times worse.

  Zadie brushed my hair with her fingers. “I’m so sorry, Nor. I know how much you sacrificed, and soon enough so will the rest of Varenia.”

  I sniffed and wiped my tears on my sleeve. Despite Zadie’s warnings about the villagers’ anger, in the back of my mind, I had still hoped for a peaceful homecoming. How could I have expected to be welcomed back when I was more despised here than ever?

  “Let’s get some rest. Surely we’ve earned that.”

  “I’ll come to bed soon,” I said. “I need some more time to think.” I walked out to the balcony and picked up a ladle from the bucket of fresh water. It was distressingly low. Kristos and Elidi thought waiting for salvation was the prudent dec
ision, but prudence hadn’t filled our buckets or our bellies for years.

  Once we had official word that Varenia was free—which the governor insisted on waiting for—I wondered how much things would actually change. I couldn’t imagine the elders going to Ilara; even if they wanted to leave our village, the land sickness might kill them. And as much as I hated the term “wave children,” our isolation in Varenia assured that we were as inexperienced as children when it came to life on land. Who would show them how to survive there?

  Silver clouds obscured the moon, but the ocean was as still as glass tonight, reflecting the entire night sky. I may not have appreciated Varenia enough when I left it, but I had always felt reverence for the natural beauty of this place. I inhaled a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, wishing I could capture this feeling in my chest: a tightness that was both longing and a sense of fulfillment. It made me feel small in a way that was oddly reassuring.

  I placed my hands on the railing and hissed as the side of my right palm snagged on a splinter. A single droplet of blood appeared, and for a second I saw Ceren’s face so clearly it was as if he were there with me. I staggered backward, directly into Father.

  “Steady, child. Are you all right?”

  I nodded, shaking away the thought of Ceren, and we leaned against the balustrade together. I was grateful for his warmth as he put his arm around me. Everything else may be a disaster, but this, at least, was right.

  “What’s troubling you?” he asked after a few minutes.

  “I can’t see my way forward anymore,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears.

  “I know, child.” He smoothed my hair off my forehead. “Your journey has never been an easy one. I fear it never will be.”

  “Why?” I asked, just like I had as a child, when I met every answer he gave with another question.

  “Some of us are born knowing exactly who and what we are,” he said. “Others have to search a little harder.”

  I chewed my lip, considering. “Zadie knows who she is, doesn’t she?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Your mother as well.”

  “And you?” I whispered.

  “I think I knew, and I fought against fate for a while, and then I accepted it.”

  I wondered what he meant by that, but in the end, there was only one question that mattered. “Are you happy?”

  “I’m content. I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

  “And people like me?”

  There was a long, disconcerting silence. “I’m not sure you’re looking for contentment, Nor.”

  I glanced up at the stars winking through the clouds. There was still so much I didn’t understand, and though I’d risked everything to get back to Varenia, deep down, I knew a part of me would always wonder what else was out there.

  “No,” I conceded. “I suppose not.”

  Father was quiet for a few minutes, but finally he turned to me. “What happened to you in Ilara, Nor?”

  I considered telling him about the bleedings, the dungeon, the monster, watching Lady Melina be pushed from a cliff and nearly meeting her same fate. But burdening Father with my struggles didn’t feel fair. I knew it would only weigh him down, and we were all struggling to stay afloat these days. I told him the same story I’d told Elidi and Kristos, sparing everyone the most gruesome details.

  Father was quiet as I spoke, his lips flattening into a thin line. I could see that he was sad, but also angry, and he was struggling to maintain his composure. When I was finished, he hugged me fiercely, as if he feared we might both fall apart.

  “Should I leave in the morning?” I asked finally.

  He vehemently shook his head. “You will stay as long as you choose.”

  At least Father still wanted me here. But I knew I would have to leave soon, not just to find Sami, but because my presence meant my family and I were at risk. I had no way of knowing if the decree barring Varenians from setting foot on land had been lifted yet. But if Phaedra discovered me, my family and I could soon share Sami’s fate.

  “You should sleep,” Father said. “And so should I. Some of the men are going hunting tomorrow, much farther out to sea. I’ll need my strength.”

  I looked up at him. “No, Father. That’s too dangerous. Stay home with me. We can dive together.”

  He smiled sadly. “I wish I could. But there are too many hungry children to feed in this village. I see them in my dreams, their mouths gaping like baby birds’.”

  My heart ached for those children and for the responsibility Father felt. “It will get better,” I said, though without the conviction I’d felt when I first reunited with Zadie. With so many people doubting me, it was becoming harder and harder not to wonder if they were right.

  “Do you believe me, about Sami?” I pressed, even though I feared the answer.

  Father sighed and looked up at the sky, then turned his dark gaze on me. “I will always believe in you, Nor.” He was quiet for a moment. “You’re going to search for him, aren’t you?”

  “I have to, Father. Zadie needs him, and so do his parents.”

  He nodded. “I know. But I hate to lose you again, when I just got you back.”

  I closed my eyes and felt the tears slip past my lashes. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

  “Just promise you’ll wait until I return from my fishing trip.”

  “I promise.” But even as I spoke, I wondered how long that would be. I had hoped coming home would calm the restless part of my soul that constantly yearned to move forward, the part of me that always wanted to be at the prow of the boat, the first one to reach the oyster.

  But as comforted as I felt in my father’s presence, I felt equally compelled to leave, rather than wait for the village to decide my fate for me. There was a familiarity in running toward something, rather than away from it.

  Father kissed my forehead. “My girl, take heart. No journey worth taking was ever easy.”

  I hugged him and went to my room, where Zadie was already asleep. I slipped into bed next to her, letting the sound of her soft, even breathing calm my frayed nerves, saying silent prayers that this journey would prove worth the taking.

  * * *

  Father was gone before I woke the next morning, and Zadie was in the kitchen preparing food for the day. I changed into one of my old tunics and borrowed skirts from Zadie before joining her in the kitchen, relieved to find Mother was still asleep. I wasn’t sure if Father had told her what we’d discussed last night.

  I had slept poorly, plagued by dreams of Ceren that felt disturbingly real. Fleeting images came back to me while I worked, of a teenaged Ceren sword-fighting with Talin and of a much younger Ceren climbing onto his father’s throne, as if testing it out for size. Why did I keep thinking about him, when he was the least of my worries now?

  “What’s troubling you?” Zadie gently took the spoon from my hand. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped stirring our stew.

  I leaned closer to Zadie. Mother had an uncanny ability to ignore anything she didn’t want to hear, but she could somehow pick up gossip from across the house. “Why haven’t we received word that Varenia is free yet? Talin must know how worried I am. I left him days ago.”

  Zadie squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You said yourself that it would likely take time.”

  “But how much time? How long are we supposed to wait?” I hadn’t told Zadie yet that I was planning to search for Sami as soon as Father returned. I was afraid she’d insist on coming, and someone needed to stay and make sure our parents were safe.

  I couldn’t tell Zadie about my constant thoughts of Ceren, either. It would only worry her, and she’d had more than her share of worry lately. I forced a smile and went to the cutting board to chop herbs. “Never mind me. I’m just restless. I wish I could go for a swim to release some of this nervous energy.”
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  “I wish you could, too. But it isn’t safe to go out.” A few minutes later, she touched my shoulder on her way to gather the wash. “I’m sorry it has to be this way,” she said, but my mind was already far away in New Castle, wondering just who was sitting on the throne.

  Several minutes later, she came in without a word, the color high in her cheeks.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked as I set the knife down. “You’re flushed.”

  “I was just thinking,” she said, her voice pitched strangely, “that maybe you should go onto the deck and finish the wash.”

  I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Why?”

  “I’ve been doing it for months on my own, that’s all.”

  “You know I’m sorry about that.” I resumed my chopping. “But you said yourself it isn’t safe.”

  “There’s no one around,” she insisted. “I really think you should go.”

  I brushed the hair out of my face with the back of my hand. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing. I just really don’t want to do it, all right?”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

  “Thank you.” As I passed her, she reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I love you,” she said, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

  I shrank away, watching her suspiciously from the corner of my eye. “Um, I love you, too, you strange girl.”

  I walked outside, blinking at the brightness of the sunlight. Despite my annoyance with Zadie, I was so grateful for the feel of the sun on my skin that for a moment I stood with my arms outstretched and my eyes closed, drinking it in. I shook out the messy knot of my hair and spun in a slow circle, and when the light stopped burning my eyelids, I finally blinked them open.

  The ocean was indigo and gold today, the waves glittering in the sunlight. I sighed as I knelt down to pick up the heap of wet clothing, wishing I could stare at the horizon a little longer, daydreaming of what lay beyond it.

  As I pushed to my feet, movement at the end of the balcony caught my eye.