The Deepest Blue(51)

“We’re going to die,” Roe said flatly. “Palia was right.”

Mayara looked up, surprised. They’d just defeated a spirit! They had the right seaweed to heal Roe’s injury! And they even had mussels and snails to eat. Uncooked, the snails weren’t the best, but mussels were one of her favorite foods, even without her father’s mango sauce. I wonder if I can find any ripe mangoes on the island. . . .

“Not today,” Mayara said firmly. “We aren’t going to die today, and that’s all that matters.”

Roe smiled. “You sound like me. I was so optimistic—until I hurt myself within the first hour and nearly died within the first day.”

“But you didn’t die, and you’re going to heal. All we have to do is keep surviving one day at a time.” Mayara put her hand on top of Roe’s, gently, over the seaweed pressed to her wound. “Just one day at a time.”

THEY CONTINUED TO NOT DIE.

They weren’t comfortable. Or clean. Or well fed. But they were still alive.

Not dying is an excellent start, Mayara thought, as she prepared to leave the cave for her second trip out. She planned to venture closer to the trees today—they needed a freshwater source if they didn’t want to help the spirits out by dying of dehydration.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Roe asked. “You going alone?”

“It’s a terrible idea,” Mayara said. “Everything here is a terrible idea. But I don’t think there’s much choice.” She didn’t want to go out there at all, much less alone. But she also didn’t want to wither away from thirst, hunger, and fear.

“I want to come with you.”

“You need to heal.” She handed her another wad of angel seaweed. I’ll pick up more on my way back. “Reapply and try to get more of the sand and dirt out of there.”

“I hate feeling helpless. You’ve already done so much. It should be me out there this time, risking myself. Not hiding in here.”

“You can help when you’ve healed.”

“And how many of our spirit sisters will die in the meantime? We should be finding them and helping them. I heard another scream last night.”

Mayara had heard it too. She’d tried to pretend it was a monkey’s howl, but she hadn’t been able to stop picturing Kemra’s body, strangled in vines and pierced by thorns. “We can’t help anyone if we don’t help ourselves first. And for that—”

“Fine. But if you don’t return . . .” Roe left the threat hanging, presumably because there was nothing to threaten Mayara with.

If I don’t return, I’ll be dead, Mayara thought. And Roe will need to heal fast or die too.

“Wish me luck,” Mayara said as she crawled out of the mouth of their cave.

She blinked in the sunlight. The turquoise water sparkled. A few water spirits were swimming like dolphins to the west, leaping and splashing in the waves. She judged them too far away to fear, at least for now.

Scampering over the rocks, Mayara hurried up the shore toward the coconut trees. If she could bring back just a few, that would give them enough water to last a little longer without having to venture out for a while. And then if they hollowed out the shells, she could use those to fetch freshwater from one of the streams, or they could set them out to collect rainwater.

She kept her mind open for spirits, watching the sky as well as the trees, as she crept up to a copse of coconut trees. She didn’t want to be caught halfway up a trunk. It took a lot not to just freeze. Because even though they weren’t that close, her thoughts kept brushing against their minds:

Three water spirits out in the sea.

One water spirit, medium size, in a nearby stream.

Two air spirits, both small, to the east.

One tree spirit . . . No, that was heading in the opposite direction.

Even though she wasn’t in their sights, she was still surrounded, and it felt more claustrophobic than the cave. She’d be quick. Up a tree, knock down a few coconuts, down the tree, and then back to Roe. She selected the tree—and then stopped as she saw an odd tangle of vines by the base. Tiptoeing up to it, Mayara knelt and studied the tangle. It was a loop with a knot, laid at the base of the tree, exactly where you’d want to step if you were about to climb the tree.

It’s a trap.

She backed up.

Odd that there was another snare like the kind that had caught Roe, rather than something more . . . well, magical, for lack of a better word. It was more the kind of trap that a human hunter would lay than a spirit that could control the elements. Grabbing a stick, she poked at the vines. She’d never heard of a spirit leaving human-style traps. They were far more likely to force the vines to grow faster than normal and knot themselves around you, like they did with Kemra. Very, very odd, she thought. She resolved to think about it more when she was safely back with Roe. In the meantime, she scooted the snare to the side with her stick and cleared a space to access the tree.

Checking again for spirits, Mayara unwound her cloth belt and tied it into a one-foot-wide loop. She then stepped into the loop and spread her legs so it was taut between her ankles. That was the trick to climbing a coconut tree: a loop of fabric around your ankles. It would give her feet more stability and thereby give her more leverage. Elorna had taught her years ago. She’d liked to wake early and harvest a few extra coconuts just for herself, before the village harvesters had a chance to claim them. Sometimes she shared with Mayara.