All the Stars and Teeth(29)
They’ve already swum a yard by the time they resurface, throwing their arms in front of them and rushing toward the sinking cannonball.
They’re racing.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
One of them dives for the cannonball and comes up short. The other is still behind, flailing his arms as he tries to catch up. Meanwhile, the ship’s passengers cheer and wave their flags as they sip from flasks and fancy flute glasses.
“They’re wasting blasting powder,” Ferrick says.
“They’re wasting money,” I correct him, pressing my fingertips against Keel Haul’s wood. One of the men surfaces with the cannonball and the onlookers go wild. They yell for him to hurry back so they can move on to the next group.
“Of course they are,” Bastian muses. “What else do you do with a limitless supply of gold, besides spend it all on games simpletons could never afford?”
I know he’s being sarcastic, but I’m sharply reminded of what I’ve heard of Kerost’s suffering. I can think of a few ways to put their spare change and extra time to use.
I pull my focus from the cheering crowd as Bastian docks the ship.
The difference between Arida and Mornute does not stop at the games we play. The buildings here are lavish and enchanted—glossy white exteriors and pristine glass windows for one shop, and lilac spires that sweep impossibly far into the sky on the next. Everything is made to capture the eye, including the peachy pink sand across the shore.
The bay is stuffed full with merchant bilander ships and an occasional traveling caravel. With every ship blending into the next, hopefully Keel Haul’s white wood and small frame won’t stand out too fiercely. Though she’s certainly a difficult ship to miss.
It’s strange to have a steady surface beneath my feet. Within minutes of disembarking, I already miss the back-and-forth lull of the waves, though Ferrick couldn’t be happier. After he spends the first few minutes emptying his stomach on a pile of rocks, he pats his hand on the ground and groans happily.
“I’d almost forgotten what it’s like to have a body that stays in one place,” he sighs.
“Don’t get too comfortable. Once we get our intel, we’re out of here.” Bastian shifts around us to take the lead.
The docks connect directly to the heart of the city, and wood gives way to sleek streets that appear to be made from stained glass. The sunlight makes them wink with dazzling pastel shades. They’re almost too beautiful to step on, but I realize they’re nothing more than another enchantment when they easily hold my weight.
The town around us roars with life, fragrant with the perfume of baked sweets and buzzing with gossip.
“SHRIMP!”
I nearly stumble as a man passes by, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Two pearls for shrimp, four for snapper! SHRIMP HERE!”
“Four pearls for snapper?” I echo. “There’s no way anyone would pay him that.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, two women approach the merchant with their twin boys trailing behind. The boys are rowdy, slugging each other in the arms and dodging the other’s counter with a mix of laughter and jeering. They draw our attention at once, and the light in Bastian’s eyes turns shadowy. He observes the boys with a set jaw and an indiscernible expression. When his eyes flicker across the faces of the parents, he stuffs his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and turns the opposite way. The parents are all smiles as they fish a gold piece and several pearls from a small emerald pouch and place them into the merchant’s hand. The Suntosan couple doesn’t even think to barter as they make off with two snappers and some shrimp.
“I hope that’s the greatest shrimp to ever grace their tongue,” I say.
Bastian just grunts and ushers us through the street. There’s no way to keep track of everything happening around us. I’m overwhelmed by the persistent yells and beckoning of merchants selling everything from chiffon gowns to lychee juice. They crowd the streets with their sharp perfumes and baked goods, as dolled-up tourists and Ikaeans with heavy pockets enjoy their wares.
Unlike Arida, this place does not have natural beauty. It’s eccentric and bustling, and I love every inch of it. Though there’s no denying how frivolous the town is with its wealth.
“It’s so different,” Ferrick says, eyeing the shimmery yellow tile of a hat shop.
“You’ve never traveled, either?” Bastian asks.
Ferrick shakes his head. “Only to Suntosu. My father is an affluential healer, trusted by the Montaras. He was favored by the queen—he even delivered Amora. It got to the point where we were visiting so frequently, my father decided to move us to Arida when I was seven. He returned to Suntosu when he retired last year, and I visit on occasional holiday. But sailing isn’t exactly my favorite hobby.”
“Well, all the islands are vastly different,” Bastian notes. “Mornute has the highest tourism rate. It’s easy to get to from most islands, and pretty enough to want to visit. It’s a town made for the wealthy.”
The sparkle of a faint aquamarine gemstone catches my eye, tempting me from behind the glass of a jewelry shop.
I want to explore every one of the shops, yet the lights behind the glass windows dim as the marketplace slowly begins to close down. Men and women bundle themselves in embroidered coats and shimmering fish-scale capes as the nighttime breeze rolls in from the coast.