Chapter 15
Riella smoothed out the parchment with excitement. It was damp and grubby, but the symbols were still legible.
Jarin took it from her in disbelief. “Where did you get this? Are you sure it’s the map?” He squinted. “I can’t understand these symbols.”
“Nor can I. Or at least, not many of them. But Yvette stole it from the pocket of Artus’s jacket yesterday. The language is Shirranis.”
The pirate laughed uproariously, causing red and green parrots to fly from a nearby tree.
“Artus would’ve lost his mind when he realized. This is fantastic.” Then, he sobered. “Lucky Yvette and the rest of them are gone from Madame Quaan’s. He’ll surely return there looking for it.”
“And all he’ll find is an empty house, save for perhaps Quaan shouting from within the walls of the study. But this is fortunate, isn’t it? He has little chance of finding the amulet without the map. And we’ll certainly not give it to him.”
“You’re right.” He returned the parchment to Riella. “We must keep it a secret, though. Pirates have big mouths. Ferrante will be able to decipher the map for us, I believe.”
“And when will that be?”
“When he’s ready.”
Riella sighed. “That’s what Kohara said.”
“What are Polinth’s chances of finding the amulet, do you think? He’s incredibly resourceful.”
The siren exhaled hard through her nose. “Resourceful is a nice way of putting it. The man is a parasite. He thinks my Voice will help him claim the amulet.”
“Then, we better find the amulet first. We have the map and soon, the Pandora will sail. I must deprive Artus of the power it would give him.”
“And Polinth.” Riella had a hopeful realization. “If we find the amulet, I could use it on Seraphine, to restore her.” She sighed, looking out to sea. “I wish I could talk to my friends. If the amulet is real, someone among the sirens must know more about it. Are you sure we can’t hurry Ferrante along?”
The pirate chuckled. “Have you ever tried to hurry along a mystic?”
“Fine.” She pushed her hair off her forehead in the blazing sun. “Let’s mend the ship, at least, so we’re ready to sail at the earliest opportunity.”
Days passedwith Riella working on the ship alongside the pirates, and with no news from the Seer.
The crew did not warm to her, so she worked with Jarin. Now and then, he would hack green coconuts open on the beach with a machete and offer one to her.
The progress of the Pandora’s reparations improved Riella’s mood. While she thought about Seraphine often, she was glad that each day brought her closer to rescuing the elf.
To pass the time, she talked to Jarin, peppering him with questions about humans, and life on the land, and feelings. He stayed by her side nearly always, reasoning that she’d need protection from the rest of the pirates. She’d scoff, but not send him away.
Near dusk, they’d put down their tools and make their way into the jungle. The trees came alive with evening creatures, darting and rustling unseen. The palms stood tall against the infinite amethyst sky, the pastel sand retaining the heat of the day.
Ulyss and his children built a bonfire each night in the clearing at camp. Riella sat on the sand, inspecting her sunburnt arms and shoulders in dismay. Her skin was a bright, angry pink.
“Here,” said Jarin, bringing over a wooden bowl with clear liquid inside. “Coconut oil. For your sunburn.”
His tawny skin had only become more tanned from being in the constant sun.
The oil did help, melting into her raw flesh as she massaged. The pirates seemed to have resolved to ignore her, keeping their distance while talking and laughing among themselves. Kohara sat with the children, preparing food.
Night settled over the island. The only light was the yellow bonfire, leaping and dancing in the air like a living thing. Riella stared into the flames, mesmerized. The heat warmed the oil on her skin, scenting the air with the sweet earthiness of coconut.
She was so entranced that she didn’t notice Jarin had returned with food for her until he put a leaf plate near her knee.
“The fire is lovely to behold,” she said, picking up the plate.
“Aye.”
Jarin stabbed a piece of charcoal fish with a fork and crammed it into his mouth.
“How can you eat flesh?” asked Riella in disgust. “It turns my stomach to see you eat it night after night.”
He’d loaded her plate with her preferred fruits, vegetables, and grains.
“It’s not flesh. It’s fish,” he said, swallowing. “It’s different.”
“Different to what? I swim with fish. I’m from the ocean. Would you eat me?”
“You’ve no idea.”
Inexplicably, Jarin chuckled to himself, looking into the fire.
After the meal, handed her a green coconut, into which he poured a measure from a rum flagon.
“Here,” he said. “Try this.”
She sipped the drink, amazed at its burning nature. Why would anyone drink such a thing? But within minutes, she understood. Her limbs grew pleasantly relaxed and when she looked around, everything had a new soft, warm glow.
“How is it?” asked Jarin.
“Good.” She reached for the coconut. “I want more.”
“Go slow, eh? I don’t know what rum does to a siren’s system.”
She shrugged and took another sip.
A pirate brought out a fiddle and started playing while others sang a bawdy sailor’s tune.
Riella sat back, watching them. She contemplated how everything about her life on land was different. Where the ocean had been cool and dark and serene and feminine, the land was bright and hot and loud and masculine. And yet, it was oddly compelling. She had to admit that she wasn’t having an awful time, Polinth and Artus and Seraphine notwithstanding.
“What do sirens do for fun?” asked Jarin as they lounged by the fire, the pirates becoming increasingly rowdy and inebriated.
“Fun,” repeated Riella, thinking. “Well, we swim, of course. We explore, we learn. We sing. And when we get the chance, we teach lessons to humans.” She smiled.
“What do you miss the most?”
She shifted on the spot, the sand chafing the backs of her legs. “Feeling perfectly clean all the time. Underwater, you never get dirty.” Riella adjusted the torn remains of her dress around her thighs. “I have sand everywhere.”
“Because you’ve only been bathing in the ocean.” He stood, motioning for her to follow. “You need a freshwater shower. I’ll take you there.”
“Where’s there?”
“Just come on.”
He walked through the music-filled clearing, the firelight making the tattoos on his back dance in time to the flames. She followed him, not wanting to be left with the other pirates.
The jungle seemed impenetrable in the velvety night, lit only by the moon, but Jarin knew the path well. They walked until the din at the bonfire subsided, replaced by the chattering of insects in the trees. Branches hung across the path and Jarin moved them aside for her.
When a ceaseless thundering became audible, the siren understood. He was taking her to a waterfall. Sure enough, he led her over expansive black rocks to an echoing cavern.
A waterfall flew over the cliff, hammering the pool of dark water below. The walls of the cavern surrounded the pool, arching to a high natural roof. Scant moonlight bounced off the water, making patterns on the stone.
Jarin hopped over the rocks around the pool’s edge. Without a backward glance at Riella, he tore off his trousers—the only clothes he wore—and tossed them on the dry rocks. In the low light, his muscular body almost blended into the water-beaten rock around him.
She couldn’t help noticing his sculpted buttocks and substantial thighs. The front of him was not visible to her, which somehow gave her a shot of both relief and disappointment. He stepped into a rock pool beneath the waterfall up to his knees, the crashing white water obscuring his form.
“Hurry up!” he shouted over the roar of the waterfall. “It feels fantastic.”
She longed to cool and clean herself, as the sand and sunburn irritated her skin, despite the coconut oil. But she was nervous to be naked with him. Mostly because a big part of her wanted to be naked with him. She didn’t know how to act in such a situation, which was ridiculous, given she never used to wear clothing at all.
The rum was definitely emboldening her, though.
After hopping over the rocks as Jarin had done, she wriggled out of her lacy underwear and her filthy dress, casting them near his trousers. While Jarin’s back was turned, she lowered herself into the pool, the waterline coming to her waist. The skin that’d been covered by the dress was pale and clean compared to her sandy, dirty limbs.
Jarin seemed unfazed by her, holding his head under the waterfall and scrubbing at his hair and neck, his eyes squeezed closed against the torrent.
Keeping a deliberate distance, she walked under the waterfall too, laughing in delight as the cool, fresh water soaked her hair and body. The sand on her arms and legs was washed away, soothing her sunburn.
“Good, right?” came Jarin’s voice from behind her.
She turned around to face him. How long had he been standing there?
Droplets clung to his eyelashes and his hair was slicked back, rivulets of water traveling the planes of his muscular body. The hair in the middle of his tattooed chest was onyx-black with wetness, trailing down to a dark mound in his groin. His cock swayed before her, impossibly massive and veined, like his wrists and hands.
“I’ll go away if you’d rather be alone,” he said over the thundering water.
“No, I don’t want you to go away.”
He nodded. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“I suppose.”
“What’s it like to have a tail?”
She giggled. “It’s wonderful.” Riella swished her hands through the cool water. “Far simpler. Freeing.”
“That makes sense. And what’s it like having legs?”
She shrugged, glancing down at him. “You would know, wouldn’t you?”
“I think it’s different for men.”
Her face grew warm. “Honestly? It’s distracting at times.”
“Oh, yeah?” A smile danced at the corner of his mouth. “What times?”
She splashed water at him. “Nothing to do with you.”
To hide the blatant lie she’d just told, she dove under the waterfall, surfacing in the pool on the other side. Jarin followed her. They swam to the center, where the water was calm, and floated on their backs. Patterns of light shifted on the rock walls, like shadow puppets.
With her ears submerged, Riella couldn’t converse with Jarin. But she stayed close to him. Now and then, almost as if by accident, their fingers grazed.
After this happened a few times, Jarin took her hand, threading his fingers through hers and holding it tight.
Riella smiled to the dark cavern, the feeling in her chest expanding and flowing through her like warm honey.