Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(62)

“Perfect,” she said, grateful. “And off-white. Not black at all.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I assumed.”

She slid off the bench, taking her new clothes with her. She had never been the modest type. She came from a culture that lived on islands and in the water. Clothes were for protection from the elements and occasionally to show status, but generally, Teek weren’t big on covering up for any supposed moral reasons. Cuecolans and, frankly, all the mainlanders were much too uptight about nudity, so even if Serapio could have seen her, she would have done the same. No, she thought with a wicked grin, if he could see me, I’d put a little more flirt into it.

She chuckled under her breath, surprised at how much better she was feeling. Here she was, locked up for who knew what reason, memory a failed mess, and at least one crewman dead, and she was thinking about sex. Well, life-threatening circumstances did that to people, didn’t they? She’d heard that somewhere, and it sounded plausible enough.

“How do they fit?” he asked.

She held out an arm. The sleeve fell well past her fingers, and it was much the same with the pants length. At least the waist generally fit.

“Made for an Obregi giant,” she teased, “but they’ll do.”

She hopped back to her place on the bench, elbows propped on her crossed knees. “Can you hear them now? What they’re saying?”

He lifted a hand, asking for her silence. They both listened. She could tell they were still arguing, but beyond that, their voices were just a roar of distant wind.

After a moment, Serapio nodded.

“Well?” she asked.

“The crew and first mate are debating whether it would be sufficient to cut your tongue out so you can’t Sing and enslave them, or if they need to slit your throat entirely and take their chances on the sea without you.”

She stared at him in shock, heart thumping in her ears.

“Someone is making the case that your bones are worth a lot of cacao. No need to waste those.”

She rubbed at her throat, and the missing digit on her pinkie throbbed.

“That’s Baat,” he added. “He seems to be the most outspoken advocate for your immediate demise.”

“Wonderful,” she muttered, feeling light-headed.

“Are you all right?”

She looked up at him. His face was drawn in concern, eyebrows bunched and lips pressed together tightly.

“Seven hells,” she spat, some of her shock giving way to anger. “I saved that bastard’s life. I should have let him drown.”

“Yes,” Serapio agreed. “It would have been better for you had he drowned. Wait…” He lifted his hand again, listening. After a moment, he said, a note of surprise in his voice, “Callo appears to be cautioning the crew to patience. He doesn’t want to make any decisions until they’re within sight of land. They might need you after all. Although…”

Dread curled in her belly. “What?”

“Patu seems to think we’re both bad luck and they should slaughter us now and take their chances.” He laughed, light and amused. “I don’t recall doing anything to earn that kind of vitriol.”

“And I did?”

He cocked his head toward her, as if listening to her now. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she was suddenly aware of her breathing and the beat of her heart. And the rustle of her pants legs as they brushed against each other.

“Do you really not remember what happened when they brought you to this room?” he asked finally. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?” she asked, voice innocent but brain thinking of that moment when she left the water and couldn’t breathe.

“Xiala,” he said, voice soft, not with reprimand but with wonder, “when they brought you here, you did not have the legs of a human. Or the throat… or eyes.”

Eyes, she knew. She always had Teek eyes. But the rest… She pressed a hand to her throat. Gills! popped into her mind. Again, the memory teased her, refused to resolve, but she remembered the glint of scales, something huge and black flopping on the deck.

Her tail.

“Mother waters,” she breathed, heavy with shock.

She wanted to ask him how he knew, what he had heard or seen when he could not see, but she knew it didn’t matter. She had heard of it happening, like the legends and stories she had shared with him these past nights. Teek in extreme danger who had transformed to another nature, becoming a true child of the sea.

“Xiala…” he repeated, softer still.

“I don’t remember,” she said, picking her words carefully. A feeling she couldn’t quite name filled her heart. Pride, awe, but also terror. “But I know.”



* * *



They kept them in the room for two days, letting them out once in the morning and once in the evening to take care of toilet needs. Xiala’s guards had thick cotton stuffed in their ears but they stuck a rag in her mouth anyway as a precaution, and because she’d cursed them out using turns of phrase that made even the hardened sailors blush. They took Serapio out under similar guard but didn’t bother with a gag since he didn’t speak or Sing. Xiala contemplated taking the rag out of her mouth, but what good would it do? They’d just put it back, likely tying it tight to her head. She decided that she could be patient, wait to see how this mutiny played out. She would bide her time, wait until they needed her and came begging for her to steer them to land. Then she would decide whether to let them live or Sing them to the bottom of the sea.