Crown of Coral and Pearl Page 8

  Zadie set the net aside and dropped into the floor of the boat to kneel before me. “Please,” she begged. “If I have to go to Ilara, I’ll die of a broken heart. And you’ll die, too, if you have to stay here without me. Maybe not for a long time, but this life will slowly kill you, too. I know you, Nor. You’ll never be happy here.”

  “Don’t do that,” I said through my sobs. “Don’t make it about what I want. I don’t want any of this!”

  She reached for the net again and thrust it toward me so forecefully that I flinched. “If you really love me, you’ll help me.”

  I had never seen Zadie like this, her eyes so wide I could see the whites all around. She was wild with desperation, barely recognizable as my beloved sister. “Don’t say that. Please.”

  She was frozen there, quivering with fear and anger and need. An honor, everyone called it. To be the chosen girl, to be beautiful, to marry advantageously. But this wasn’t what honor was supposed to look like: a frightened girl on her knees, begging to be spared.

  “I can’t believe this is what you really want, Zadie. I can’t.”

  “It is, Nor. More than anything else in the world.”

  It took all of my strength to take the handle of the net from her, but I felt her relief as if it were my own. She’d looked so taut I thought she might snap like a fishing line.

  “I love you,” I told her.

  “You have been everything for me,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “My arms when I wasn’t permitted to row, my legs when I wasn’t permitted to dive. My lips when I couldn’t defend myself from Mother. Now I need you to be my hands, Nor.”

  I bit my lip to stifle my cries. But if Zadie could not do this on her own, I would be the steady hand that she lacked.

  I lowered the net until the first tentacle was hovering just above the bare skin of her thigh and hesitated once more. “Zadie, I...”

  Before I could stop her, she reached out, took my hand, and forced it down. Horrified, I wrenched myself out of her grasp and dropped the net, but the tentacles that had made contact were already adhering to her skin. Zadie winced as the tiny stingers grabbed hold of her leg, pulling themselves toward her.

  Biting my lip was no longer enough. I bit my own hand to keep from screaming. The translucent blue lines clung to Zadie’s leg, even as she began to tremble, even as she started to squirm away from the pain. Her skin reddened, then blistered. I watched in horror as the tentacles appeared to melt into her flesh.

  “Get them off!” she wailed finally. “Please!”

  “How?” I shrieked. I used my hands to scoop up seawater and tried to rinse away the tentacles, but the few that came off took strips of my sister’s skin with them. In my frantic attempts to help her, a tentacle brushed against my arm. The pain was so excruciating I finally allowed myself to scream, knowing Zadie’s suffering was a thousand times worse.

  Desperate, I pulled her up beneath her arms and dropped her over the side of the boat, holding her afloat with one hand while I used the side of Father’s spear to scrape off the remaining tentacles and as little of her flesh as possible.

  By the time we were finished, Zadie was unconscious, and the water around us was dark with blood.

  7

  After I’d hauled her back into the boat, we lay there for a while as I tried to steady my breathing. I couldn’t afford to pass out, not when Zadie’s eyes remained closed, when she was so pale and motionless beside me. I needed to get us home as quickly as possible, but first I cut the rest of the jellyfish free of its net and slashed it to pieces with the spear.

  Though the wound on my arm burned with every stroke of the oars, it was already healing. I could hardly bear to look at Zadie’s leg as I rowed. Her right thigh had borne the brunt of the wounds, though a few stray pieces of tentacle had brushed against her left thigh and lower abdomen. Her face was pale in the moonlight, but the wounds were a harsh red even in the dark. The venom had entered her bloodstream almost immediately, and she was hot with fever. If I didn’t get help soon, I was afraid she really could die.

  But with Zadie unconscious, it was up to me to get our parents, to explain what had happened, to help care for her. And I was afraid. Afraid that they would blame me, that Zadie’s plan wouldn’t work and they’d still send her, or send Alys instead, and then Mother would blame me for that, too. I was afraid for my sister, afraid that Sami wouldn’t be able to look past these wounds. And worst of all, I was afraid of myself. Because I hadn’t just allowed something like this to happen to the person I loved most in the world. I had helped, even if Zadie had forced my hand in the end.

  I rowed harder as our house came into view, then quickly tied the boat to a pillar. I wiped the tears from my cheeks and scrambled up the ladder. “Mother! Father!” I yelled into the dark. “Help!”

  I could hear them stirring on the other side of their curtain, but not fast enough. Father sat up as I threw the fabric aside. “What is it, child?” He used the word child when he couldn’t tell which one of us was speaking.

  “It’s Zadie,” I managed around the lump in my throat. I had never cried so much in my life, not even when I’d cut myself on the blood coral. “She’s been stung by a maiden’s hair.”

  Mother, who had been grumbling in her sleep, sat bolt upright. “What?” she cried, her voice shrill with fear.

  My hands shook as I bent to help her up. “We were swimming, and we didn’t see it until it was too late.” The words were a lie, but the sorrow and terror were all too real. “She’s unconscious in the boat. I didn’t have the strength to bring her up.”

  “Thalos, no!” Mother screamed. My parents flew past me. I heard Father splash into the water, then Mother’s shriek as she looked down through the door.

  “My baby!” she cried. “What has happened to my beautiful baby?”

  I was hit with a sudden memory of the day of the incident, when I was the one limp in the boat. What has happened to my beautiful baby? Mother had said the same thing about me. My knees were suddenly weak and watery, and I slumped onto the floor of our house, unnoticed.

  Lanterns began to glow in other people’s houses at the sound of my mother’s screams. Father was shouting for help.

  “Get Elder Nemea,” he commanded, gently handing Zadie up to Mother through the door.

  It took a moment to realize he was speaking to me. I forced myself to my feet, grateful for the chance to leave. I couldn’t bear to look at my sister’s legs, at the horrific results of what we had done.

  Once I was back in the boat, some of my strength returned, and I rowed harder than I’d ever rowed before. I had to force myself to stop at Elder Nemea’s house instead of continuing out of Varenia and away from Mother’s screams.

  The old woman was already coming out of her house when I arrived. “What is it, girl?”

  “It’s my sister,” I called between breaths. “She’s been stung by a maiden’s hair. She’s unconscious.”

  “Zadie? No, this can’t be!” She disappeared back into the house and emerged a moment later with a heavy satchel. The village doctor would have been preferable, but he had died last year in a shark attack before he could fully train his apprentice daughter.

  I took the satchel and helped her into the boat, then rowed home as quickly as I could. By then several people had gathered in boats around our house. Nemea and I hurried to the bedroom I shared with Zadie, following the sound of Mother’s sobs.

  “Move aside,” Nemea said to my parents as she stepped past them, already removing salves and strips of cloth from the bag. Zadie lay on the bed, still unconscious, her brow beaded with sweat.

  “How could you let this happen?” Mother screamed the moment she saw me. “How could you be so foolish as to take your sister night swimming at a time like this?”

  I could have said it was Zadie’s idea, that I hadn’t wanted to go. I could
have told Mother the truth, and part of me wanted to. But as my eyes fell on my sister’s leg, on the missing flesh and pooling blood, I knew I could never betray her.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” I told her tearfully. “We just didn’t see it. I think it must have already been dead.”

  “Did you scrape away the stingers?” Nemea asked me.

  “Yes, I think so. I tried my best.”

  “Good.” She opened up a small whale-bone jar full of an iridescent pink ointment and began to slather it onto Zadie’s leg. “The pearls will help heal her, but I’m afraid the wounds are too deep to ever disappear completely.”

  Mother sobbed harder at Nemea’s words.

  “But she’ll live?” Father asked.

  “She’ll live, if we can get the fever down.” Nemea asked me to wet some cloth with fresh water for Zadie’s head and had me drip some into her bloody mouth, torn from the splinters when she’d bit down on the wood. The elder watched as I dabbed the blood away, but she didn’t ask questions. Mother held Zadie’s hands in a death grip, rocking back and forth on her knees and muttering prayers to Thalos and every other god she could name. Father paced while Nemea bound Zadie’s leg in the cloth bandages.

  I could see people through our window, crowding onto our balcony. “Look, Father,” I said. Our house couldn’t support the weight of so many. He went outside and told them to go, that there’d been an accident and they would hear more in the morning.

  When I heard Governor Kristos outside, telling people politely but firmly to leave, I felt a wave of relief. He came into the house with Elidi and Sami and hurried to Zadie’s side. With everyone crowded around her, Zadie was blocked from view, and Sami’s eyes fell on me first.

  “Nor, what happened?” he asked, crouching down next to me.

  “We were swimming. She was stung by a dead maiden’s hair. I got her home as quickly as I could.”

  He pulled me into his arms, and I let myself be comforted for a moment. Sami would take care of Zadie, no matter what happened.

  Mother was weeping in the corner, with Sami’s mother murmuring quiet words while Governor Kristos talked to Father. Elder Nemea had finished bandaging Zadie’s wounds and was pouring water into a pot. I watched her put a handful of herbs and several globs of the pink ointment in and stir.

  I rose with Sami’s help and went to light the fire in our clay stove. “What are you doing?” I asked Nemea.

  “The cream will help her injuries, but the broth will help with the fever.”

  When the mixture was steaming, she asked for a bowl and ladled some of the broth into it. Father tried to prop Zadie up a bit so she could drink, but she was as limp as a sea cucumber. I thought I saw her eyelashes flutter, and she managed to swallow some of the broth, but she didn’t wake up. It was probably better if she slept—the pain had to be terrible.

  Nemea called my parents over. “This girl needs rest. She can’t go to Ilara in this condition, assuming the prince will still have her at all. I will call an emergency session with the elders tomorrow and we will discuss what is to be done.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Mother said, straightening her spine. “She was born to be a princess, and she will go to Ilara in two days as planned. You chose her. You can’t take that away.”

  The elder’s gray eyes narrowed. “As I said, we will discuss it in the morning. For now, everyone should get some rest. When the girl regains consciousness, she will be in a great deal of pain. Continue to give her small amounts of the broth. If the pain is unbearable, she may drink some wine, but only a little.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Mother said again, but Elder Nemea didn’t respond.

  “Take me home,” she said to Sami, who didn’t balk at taking orders from an old woman half his size.

  “I’ll be back in the morning,” he called up to me as he descended through the door. “Take care of her.”

  I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. I was still wearing only my wet nightgown, but I knew that the cold seeping into me wouldn’t go away, even after I was dry. “I will.”

  * * *

  We were all awake by the time the sun rose, as red and angry-looking as Zadie’s wounds. She hadn’t spoken yet—she just sobbed as Mother rocked her and brushed her hair away from her face. Her fever hadn’t broken, but the fact that she was conscious was a good sign. I was able to get her to take small sips of broth, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Father continued to pace around the house.

  “They can’t change their decision now,” he said. “Surely the king will understand a few scars on her leg.”

  I bit my tongue, though the scar on my cheek tingled when he spoke. It seemed so insignificant now, compared to Zadie’s wounds. But I understood Zadie’s logic—she’d needed to do something drastic to her appearance without altering her physical capabilities. A scarred woman could still provide for her family.

  “Don’t be foolish, Pax,” Mother chided. “A few scars? The girl is ruined.”

  “Calliope,” Father hissed. “Enough.”

  She turned away from him to me. “How could you let this happen?” she asked for the hundredth time. “Two days before she was supposed to leave? She’s spent her entire life protecting her beauty, and one stupid decision has cost us everything.”

  I was too tired to hold my tongue any longer. “Not everything. I am still going to be the governor’s daughter-in-law.”

  I’d expected her anger, but the slap caught me off guard.

  My hand flew to my cheek. Mother had never hit us, which I always suspected had more to do with her fear of maiming us than out of love. Her eyes widened for a moment, as if she had shocked even herself, but she didn’t back down.

  “This is all your doing, isn’t it?” she accused. “You’ve always been jealous of your sister. You’ve never been content to live here. You’ve always thought you were better than the rest of us, that Varenia was too small for you. But you are just one more insignificant, dull little fish floating in our waters. Do you really think they’ll choose you over Alys?”

  Father came to stand over us. “I said, enough.”

  I had feared some people might suspect I did this to Zadie on purpose, but my own mother? Did she really believe me capable of such a thing? “I love Zadie more than life itself,” I said, trying to mask my hurt from her and failing miserably. “I would never harm her so I could take her place! You must know that.”

  She turned away from me. “I don’t know you at all.”

  Father took my hand and led me out to the balcony. “Tell me the truth, Nor,” he said when he was sure the waves were loud enough to muffle his words, even for Mother’s sharp hearing. “Was it an accident, or did Zadie do this to herself so she could stay and marry Sami? I know she loves him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Did she ask you to help her?”

  My stomach dropped like an anchor. Was it so obvious? “It was an accident.”

  Father’s eyes were a darker brown than mine, almost black. His hair caught in the wind, revealing the slight receding hairline that made him look distinguished, wise. “The truth, Nor.”

  “It was an accident,” I repeated slowly. Inside, the truth kicked and screamed at my throat, demanding to be released.

  I swallowed it down.

  “Very well. Then we will see what the elders decide. Most likely Alys or one of the other girls will be sent in Zadie’s place.” Father sighed. “And I don’t know if Sami will have her like this.”

  Gods help me, I was now being forced to defend every concern I’d raised with Zadie. “He will. He loves her.”

  “Regardless, his parents might not allow it.” He cleared his throat. “Especially now that the entire village knows you will marry Sami on the solstice. We have your mother to thank for that.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What? No! I can’t marry Sami now. That would kill Zadie.” />
  He cleared his throat again, turning away just as I caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes. I’d never seen my father cry before.

  I went to stand next to him at the railing, but I didn’t look at him. I was afraid he would be ashamed, and that he would see the shame in my eyes, too. “If Sami doesn’t marry Zadie, what will become of her?”

  “I suppose it depends on the extent of her scarring.”

  A small whimper escaped me. “I’m scared, Father.”

  He pulled me close to him in an embrace, stroking my hair the way he had when I was a little girl, before the incident. “So am I, Nor. So am I.”

  * * *

  The elders called Mother and Father to the meetinghouse a few hours later. I was left behind to care for Zadie, who was sleeping, though not unconscious at least. She still hadn’t spoken to me, but she clutched my hand in her sleep. I was tempted to lift her bandages and look at how bad her wounds were, but I was afraid to disturb the healing process. Nemea had said she’d be by later in the evening to change the dressings and apply more salve. The little scratches on her abdomen already appeared to be healing, at least.

  My sister would recover. She had to.

  When Zadie blinked her eyes open, I immediately fetched her some fresh water to drink.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Are you able to speak now?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I can speak.”

  I squeezed her hand. “You’re not angry with me, are you? I can’t bear it if you blame me for this.”

  She shook her head, her face paler than I’d ever seen it. “Nor, of course I don’t blame you. This was my doing.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  She tried to sit up straighter, then collapsed weakly onto the pillows. “I will only regret it if Sami chooses another bride.”

  I tensed, remembering what Father had said to me. If they tried to make me marry Sami now, I would refuse.