Chapter Seventeen #2
The scarlet birds took up the cry. “Tu-reee! Tu-reeee! Ree-ree-ree-tu-ree!” Circling over the beach, one of them swooped low, just above the breaking waves. “Tu-reee!”
Marin tried to keep the what-ifs from creeping in: What if Ree didn’t make it?
What if Perri had been struck by the magic-charged lightning?
What if Silver had been destroyed? What if she’d failed to keep any of them safe?
Ree, he’d trusted her. Perri—if he was hurt, it was only because he’d tried to help her.
My fault. All of it. The guilt swarmed up into her throat. She halted and looked out to sea.
It was calm now, no trace of the storm. All the clouds were elongated wisps of white, and the blue sky was guileless and pure.
The ocean surface undulated like it should, and the waves crashed in foamy white, then licked at the sand, shells, and pebbles before withdrawing.
She knew magic storms were like that: roaring in and then erasing themselves without a trace.
Please don’t let Ree and Perri be erased with it.
She should have tied Ree to herself, kept a grip on him. She should have made Perri promise to stay beneath the waves, no matter what happened to the rest of them.
I’m their captain. It was on me to keep them safe.
She should have found a way around the storm, taken another route, or turned back when she first spotted the purple clouds—never mind that magic storms were unpredictable and impossible to outrun.
Her parents hadn’t managed it, and they’d been twice the sailors she was. They’d taught her everything she knew.
Thinking of them, Marin had a sudden stabbing thought. She reached for her pocket. The ruby was a hard lump, still there, not lost. Relief spread through her and then a wave of guilt that she’d feel any relief over a jewel when Ree and Perri were—
Dax gripped her arm. “Marin.” He pointed out toward the water.
Across the water, she saw the flash of pearly iridescent scales.
Perri was swimming through the waves. She was sure it was him, wasn’t she?
It could be another serpent with similar scales.
She didn’t know for certain that— Beside her, Dax filled his lungs and then sang, clear and loud, the exact cadence of Perri’s greeting call.
Perri raised his head out of the water and trumpeted back.
Marin’s knees caved, and she thudded down into the sand. He’s alive. Oh, thank the sea, he’s alive! He was swimming snakelike through the water, in curved undulations, not his usual dolphin leaps. It wasn’t until he was much closer to shore that she saw why:
On top of his head rode a snarl of branches and leaves.
“Ree!” She jumped to her feet and waded into the surf.
The breaking waves slapped into her knees, and her boots sank into the sand, slowing her, but she waded forward.
“Perri! Ree! We’re here!” She waved her arms over her head, even though she knew it was unnecessary.
Perri was already swimming straight for them.
Her cheeks felt wet, and she knew it wasn’t from the sea spray.
Next to her, Dax put his hand on her shoulder. She covered it with hers.
Side by side, hip-deep in the ocean, just beyond the breaking waves, they waited for the sea serpent and the shrub to swim closer to shore.
“Marin!” Ree cried. “Dax!”
As soon as he was close, he leaped off Perri toward them.
Dax lunged forward and caught him. Ree wrapped his branches around Dax’s neck in a hug, and Marin waded deeper to reach Perri.
Chest-deep, she stopped and examined the sea serpent, searching for signs of magic poisoning—the vestiges of the unnatural lightning that would be skittering over his skin and visible in his eyes …
Stretching her arms wide, she put her hands on either side of Perri’s massive face and looked deep into his glorious sea-blue eyes. She saw no lightning. He was safe.
Wordless, Marin cried.
The sea serpent gently licked her cheek with the tip of his massive pink tongue, and she began to laugh. Crying and laughing, Marin hugged Perri as best she could with her tiny human arms around his vast serpent head.
“Oh, my captain,” Ree said behind her. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Marin said.
“You lived.” She turned to look at him. He was perched on Dax’s shoulder.
His soil ball was nearly gone, and half his leaves were missing, but he was still undeniably alive.
Her eyes met Dax’s, and she felt as if a thousand words passed between them. She asked Ree, “Are you injured?”
“I thought I was a sailor,” Ree said. “But I had to be rescued.”
She waded to shore, bringing Dax and Ree with her.
On the beach, she lifted Ree off Dax’s shoulder and set him down.
She examined him, looking for broken branches or …
She didn’t know exactly what. Reassurance that he’s okay, that we’re all okay.
“You can be a sailor and need rescuing. Dax saved me.” And kissed me. Or I kissed him. Both.
“The turtles saved both of us,” Dax said.
“I had to be fished out of the water like a … like a … like a fish!” Ree wailed. “The turtles didn’t want me. I was sinking, when Perri came and he … he had to eat me to save me!”
Startled, Marin glanced out at Perri, who had retreated to deeper water but lingered, watching his crew reunited. “He what?”
“He put me in his mouth,” Ree said. “It was the only way to keep me safe. He put me in his mouth and dove down under the waves, away from the storm, until it passed. Only when it was safe did he open his mouth again and let me climb out. And then you were gone. No boat. No captain. No Dax.”
“How did you find us?” Dax asked.
“I didn’t,” Ree said. “Perri did. I guess he talked to the turtles? Can serpents talk to turtles? Or he could have just followed them. I don’t know. I … Captain, I’m not worthy to be a sailor.”
Marin knelt in the sand next to him. “Why do you say that?”
“I wasn’t brave,” he said miserably.
“It’s okay that you were scared,” Marin told him. “It was objectively terrifying. I was terrified the entire time.” She patted the tops of his branches and wondered if he’d want a hug. Or fresh soil.
“It’s not okay.”
“If you hadn’t been scared, then I’d say you aren’t a sailor.
Sailors have to respect the sea and fear the storms. Fearless sailors drown.
” Also unlucky ones. She’d been lucky—lucky that she’d had a crew.
If Dax hadn’t untied her … If Perri hadn’t called the turtles …
She was certain he’d done that. It’s not luck that saved us.
We saved one another. She looked again at Dax.
She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him.
“You kept sailing,” Ree said. “All I could do was scream.”
“And survive,” Marin said. “You did that too, and that’s not a small thing. Ree, sometimes things happen that are out of our control … Sometimes just surviving is heroic enough.” She stood up. “Let’s find you some new soil, okay?”
He was silent for a moment and then said in a small voice, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Marin said warmly. “Come on, sailor.” She headed away from shore toward the silver and crystal trees.
Hopping behind her, Ree said, “Thank you, Captain.”
All of them were soaked through, which was a problem—well, Perri’s fine, but Dax and I need a fire. And Ree needs fresh soil.
If she had her boat, she’d have access to the stove and blankets and fresh clothes.
But she didn’t know where her beloved sailboat had been flung, or if it was even in one piece.
For all she knew, it was at the bottom of the ocean.
No, it can’t be. She refused to think like that.
They’d survived, so her boat could have too.
It was a lot more buoyant than two people and a plant.
“Perri, what about Silver?” Marin called across the water. “Do you know what happened to my sailboat?”
He didn’t. But he’d search—Perri slapped the water with his fins to show emphasis. He’d find Silver, wherever she was.
“Thank you!” She pressed her hands to her heart and hoped he understood how much it meant to her: that he’d saved Ree, that he’d found them, that he stayed with her when he could have abandoned her at any time to find his own kind. I don’t deserve such a friend.
She watched him swim toward deeper waters and then submerge. She didn’t know if it was an impossible task or not. Her boat, her future, could be lost forever, torn apart by the sea.
“At least it’s not cold,” Dax said beside her, so close that she could feel him even though they weren’t touching. She wondered if she was always going to be aware of how close he was now. She was conscious of the feel of his voice on her skin, the warmth of—
Wait, why wasn’t it cold? Given the season, it shouldn’t be this balmy, unless they’d been knocked off course by a tremendous amount.
I can’t worry about that yet. First, avoiding hypothermia.
She studied the trees and wondered if their crystalline branches would burn like wood or fail to burn like crystal.
“The temperature could dip after the sun sets. We’ll need to be dry by then. ”
Both of them looked at the sun, which was halfway between the horizon and the zenith. She wasn’t sure if that meant it was midmorning or midafternoon.
“Any idea if that’s east or west?” Marin asked.
“Nope,” Dax said. “Do you know how to start a fire?”
“Actually, yes, I have a few basic emergency supplies,” Marin said.
She patted her emergency pocket, the one every supply runner had.
It included a fire-starter (a piece of metal that you could hit with a rock to reliably create a spark), a strainer spelled to purify water (small but effective), a heavy-duty needle (for mending sails), and a knife (for whatever).
She held her hand up to the horizon—the sun was four fingers width above it.
“What are you doing?” Ree asked.
“If I measure it again in an hour, we’ll know whether it’s rising or sinking. And then we’ll know whether that’s east or west.”