The Deepest Blue(41)

“Well, there goes that plan,” Palia muttered. “And every other viable plan.”

Roe attempted a wan smile. “I guess we’re on our own?”

This was a terrible twist. Mayara wished Sorka had told them earlier. At least then I could have gotten the additional panic out of the way sooner.

Sorka continued. “Another tip: as soon as we land, move. The spirits are bright enough to know where the new potential heirs come in, and they’ll be lying in wait. You want as much distance from this ship as possible. Head inland or up the coast. Either will work. Just get away. Don’t be stupid.”

Mayara felt her palms growing sweaty. She wiped them on her leggings. I need some kind of plan. Something without Roe and Palia . . .

She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on having Roe and even the fatalistic Palia with her. The thought of facing the island alone . . . I can’t do it! If she was with Roe and Palia, this all felt possible. Or at least more possible.

Roe squeezed her hand and mouthed, You can do this. Or possibly, I can’t do this!

Either way, Mayara squeezed her hand back. She thought of how she’d evaded the Silent Ones. Keep to the coast, and stay in the water. She’d have water spirits to contend with, but earth spirits would prefer the land, and fire and ice spirits wouldn’t want anything to do with the sea. As soon as we land on the shore, I’ll swim. And then I’ll find a place to hide.

Run and hide. That was her plan. After Heir Sorka’s announcement, she was more convinced than ever it was the right choice, heroic or not.

One month, and then I’ll see Kelo again. If he truly lives. She tried not to think about the fact that she and Kelo had only evaded the Silent Ones and their spirits for eight days, and that was on a familiar island.

Maybe I’ll be lucky.

She glanced over at Roe again. Maybe we’ll all be.





Chapter Ten

Akena Island was formed from the skull and neck vertebrae of a colossal leviathan that had attacked Renthia centuries ago. Greenery covered it, as lush as anything Mayara had ever seen, with coconut groves and bamboo forests in overflowing abundance. The cliffs of bone and stone were painted with purple, blue, and red flowers, and dozens of brightly colored birds flew above them. She heard the keening cry of monkeys and the caw of wild parrots. In short, it looked and sounded like a paradise.

But the feel of it . . .

She sensed the spirits even before they sailed into the cove. The island was teeming with them. Like stinging jellyfish beneath the pristine, beautiful surface of the sea. Except worse.

“The entire island is barely a mile wide,” Heir Sorka called across the ship. “You won’t ever see the Silent Ones, though—they’ll be stationed on a chain of outer islands beyond the reef. If you try to escape, they will catch you, and you will be executed. Can’t have super-powered traitors in Belene. The Silent Ones will be watching you through the eyes of the spirits that will be hunting you. So if you have that uncomfortable feeling that you’re not alone . . . you aren’t. You aren’t ever alone on Akena, and you aren’t ever safe. Get used to it.”

Swinging on a rope that dangled from one of the sails, Sorka crossed the deck and turned a winch to lower an anchor. No sailor would agree to come this close to Akena Island, so Sorka both helmed and manned the ship herself, occasionally barking orders at the Silent Ones and the spirit sisters. Now, though, she plunged the anchor into the reef below without any help.

When she’s finished with us, she’ll probably sail off solo and eat a sea monster for lunch. If Sorka was an example of the kind of woman you had to be to survive the island, then Mayara despaired of lasting a day.

The ship slowed as the anchor snagged on a chunk of rock or coral. Waves broke against its hull as it strained to continue drifting forward. All twelve women crowded on the port side of the ship, looking at Akena Island.

“You expect us to swim to shore?” Osa called.

“I have zero expectations,” Sorka said, “except that you will all be off my boat in the next three minutes, even if I have to push you off myself.”

They’d anchored inside a cove with a beautiful white-sand beach. Mayara could see coconut trees, heavy with coconuts, and banana trees that were overladen with countless bananas. I was expecting it to look more ominous. Skulls and decay. Stench of sulfur, not ripe fruit and hibiscus.

“Remember: the spirits have been without prey for a year,” Sorka said. “Do try not to get killed in the first hour.” But she wasn’t looking at any of the spirit sisters. Her eyes, Mayara saw, were fixed on the island itself. She looked as if she was remembering and the memories weren’t nice. What was her test like? Mayara wondered. Sorka had strictly, and undoubtedly deliberately, kept herself separate from the spirit sisters. She hadn’t chatted with any of them, hadn’t shared personal stories, hadn’t laughed with them or cried. Maybe so she won’t have to cry for us now.

“It doesn’t look so bad,” someone near Mayara said hopefully.

It was true.

A stretch of shallow sea lay between the ship and the lovely sand with its bounty of fruit. The stunningly clear water looked picturesquely perfect: the reef below, with schools of silvery fish. A brilliant green sea turtle glided lazily over delicate fanlike coral that waved in its wake.

“It looks like a trap,” Palia muttered beside her.