CHAPTER 10
APRIL
"Here, my finned friends," I joke as I cast my line into the slushy, rocking waters of the ocean. "Come on, little scaly buddies. Come take a bite of this worm."
Harlow's kid, Rukhar, stares at me with surprise. "You can't call them. They can't hear you."
"They can't?" I bat my eyes, trying to seem innocent and foolish. "You're sure?"
At his side, Pak giggles, his little fluffy bunny-tail wiggling madly.
It takes everything I have not to laugh with him and give myself away.
I know how to fish. I've fished all my life.
It's one of the memories that has been tickling at the back of my mind, and holding a pole and standing near the waves feels so very right.
This is something I can spend my days doing, and gladly.
After breakfast, Harlow suggested Rukhar and Pak teach me how to fish.
I don't know if she was sending them to watch me or if I'm supposed to be watching them, but I'm happy to help out.
They're good kids, though, and I've been laughing with them for hours.
Both boys are very patient with every silly, exaggerated question I ask, and Pak solemnly puts the bait on my hook each time for me.
The worm looks more like a centipede with shrimp-parts but I'm trying not to think about that.
The land provides, but it doesn't have to make it pretty, I remind myself.
They've been laughing at me all morning because I don't want us to say the word "fishing.
" I tell them it's bad luck and it'll let the fish know what we're up to, so we call it what my ancestors called it — holoholo.
They think I'm crazy, but a fun kind of crazy.
I won't even use the word fish, which makes Pak giggle constantly as we come up with other words for them.
"The scaled friends are underwater," Rukhar tells me, his face quite serious. "Have you ever been underwater? You can't hear anything."
"So I shouldn't call them?" I bite my lip, pretending to be confused. "What if I just call a lot louder? OH LOOK AT THIS SNACK JUST DANGLING IN THE WATER! WHAT INCREDIBLE LUCK! IT WOULD MAKE SOMETHING AN EXCELLENT MEAL!"
My bellowing makes the people farther down the beach turn and give me weird looks. It also makes Pak fall over, clutching his sides and giggling madly, which was the reaction I was hoping for.
Rukhar just shakes his head at me, as if I'm the biggest dummeh that ever dummied. He turns in my direction. "No matter how loud you are, they're still f— er, scaly buddies. Have you ever seen one with ears?"
I grab his arm before he can put his back to the sea. "Oops! Don't do that."
He pauses, glancing behind him. "Do what?"
"Turn your back to the water. It's disrespectful to her." I nod at the slushy waves ahead of me. "She won't feed us if we're not polite."
Rukhar's face screws up, and for a moment, he looks like his silent, glowering father.
Before he can respond, my line jumps, ripping at my hands and capturing my attention. With a startled sound, I grab it and tug hard, only for the line to go slack immediately. I pull it up and my hook is clean, my worm gone. "Oh, nuts. See? She's telling us to behave."
"You jerked too hard," Rukhar tells me sagely.
He reaches for the dripping hook and hands it over to Pak, who produces another wriggling centipede-crawfish thing from his bag.
"Next time, let it nibble a bit longer before you jerk the line.
You scared him away and probably dislodged your worm in the process. "
I make a face, frustrated, as if I'm just the worst learner. "Next time, I suppose. You don't think I hurt it, do you?"
"Pfft. No." Rukhar gives me a dismissive look. "They're, um, aquatic scaled things. Devi says they don't feel anything around the mouth. They don't have the nerds."
"Nerves," I correct. But losing my catch reminds me that I'm being too noisy and too flippant. I'm sorry, I tell the ocean silently. I'll be less lolo and more respectful when I cast my line again.
Thunder rumbles, and I look up at the sky. It's clear, which is confusing.
Both Rukhar and Pak giggle.
"Greetings, friends," drawls Valmir as he approaches the rock we're perched upon.
I blush. It wasn't thunder at all, but my khui. He leans against the boulder with one hand, looking as casual as can be. "And what are we up to today?"
He looks good today. His elegantly muscled body is displayed to perfection with a form-fitting tunic with no sleeves and extra room under the arms to allow movement.
I think about shoving a hand under the leather and scratching my fingers down his furry pectorals, and the thought is far more distracting than it should be.
I rub my chest, cognizant of the khui song and how loud it is...
and how I'm tempted to fling myself onto Valmir and grind against him until I'm tingling all over.
I don't, of course, but I think about it for a nice, long moment. "Lessons."
"I could teach you," Valmir says, glancing up at me. "All you have to do was ask."
Uh huh. Smells like a trap to me. If I ask him for help with anything, I'd be beholden to him, and I rather like having the upper hand at the moment. "Absolutely not. Now, if you don't mind, I'm about to throw my line again and catch something magnificent."
He tilts his head, his catlike triangular ears pricking. "Then you don't want to see what I've built, April?"
The question makes me pause. It's the silky way he says it, the oh-so-casual insouciance in his voice that's practically taunting me.
He's got something to show me and judging by the swish of his tail, he's eager.
I set down my fishing line and pole, turning to Rukhar and Pak.
"I need to go hang out with Uncle Valmir for a bit.
Are you guys going to be okay without me here? "
Rukhar gives me a constipated look. "Why wouldn't we be?"
"Shouldn't an adult be supervising you guys?"
"You think you're supervising us?"
Okay, ouch. I guess they really do think they're doing me a favor by helping me fish. "You know what? Fair." I reach over and ruffle Rukhar's hair. He scowls at me and looks just like his father for a moment. "Let's go find a parental figure anyhow, all right?"
Valmir trails a short distance behind as we gather up our fishing supplies and head back in towards the main camp. He doesn't join in the conversation, but seems content to lurk behind us and listen in. Once Pak and Rukhar are situated with an adult, I turn back to my cat shadow.
He lingers a short distance away, keeping space between himself and the others in the camp. Always separate, never a part of things. It strikes me as…disappointing. I don't know why I care, but I do. When I hesitate, Valmir indicates that I should follow him.
I do, commenting, "You know you can talk to people other than me, right?"
"I talk to Skarr."
Not something I'd brag about, personally.
And Skarr isn't here right now. He's visiting the cave Ancestors with Tia and Rem'eb.
I can't help but notice that Valmir doesn't really socialize.
There are some in the tribe who keep to themselves just because they're more introverted, like Elly.
There are some like Sabrina and Daisy who want to always be in the thick of things.
And then there's Valmir, who stares at people from the shadows and looks like he hates everyone on the beach for simply existing.
As a gregarious, social sort who enjoys that everyone here is one big happy family (for the most part), his insistence on being a loner bugs me. "The kids don't bite, you know."
He shoots me a baffled look. "Why would they bite?"
"It's an expression. I'm just saying it wouldn't kill you to be friendly to the tribe. We're all family. Ohana."
"What?" His brows furrow. "Ohana?"
Where did that come from? I have no idea what ohana means, myself. I rub my mouth, trying to figure out how I knew that word. It feels familiar, and yet at the same time, the translator chip in my brain is telling me it doesn't recognize it. "Never mind. What did you want anyhow?"
A big, self-satisfied grin creases his face. "I made you something."
That shouldn't send as much heat flaring through my veins as it does. I fight the urge to shiver all over, and my khui starts humming like it's on diesel fuel. "Oh?"
"Follow me." He saunters away from the group near the fire, heading back toward my hut. And since I'm a wildly curious sort, I follow.
It doesn't take long to see what he's so proud of.
There's a freaking snake made of bones twisting along the beach.
As I get closer, I see that the "snake" is made up of rib bones, all tied together and then sewn into a massive hide sheet made from multiple skins that acts as a floor.
It's less of a snake and more of a tunnel.
A long tunnel. I could probably send a barrel through it, it's so large, and the length of it stretches from behind my hut all the way to the next one down.
I can't help it. I start to laugh.
He puts his hands on his hips and gazes down at the behemoth cage proudly. Valmir looks thrilled at his own efforts. "Impressive, is it not?"
"It's enormous!" I laugh even harder, delighted. It's the biggest animal cage I've ever seen, large enough to fit an entire herd of two-fangs. Makana and his entire extended family could hang out in there. It's a whole dog-run...for a creature the size of a rabbit.
Valmir's expression turns skeptical at my amusement. "Well, of course it's enormous. Your pet needs room to move about and stretch his legs. His cave should be a welcome home, not something that makes him feel confined. Cages like that are miserable."