Chapter 16
The waterfall made rainbows in the sunny mist. Riella awoke on a rock while Jarin still slumbered, his arm under her neck like a pillow. After bathing and dressing last night, they’d talked until falling asleep in the early hours.
He awoke when she tapped her talons on his shoulder, sitting up and squinting against the brightness of the day.
“Good morning,” he grumbled, scratching his stubbled cheek. “We fell asleep.”
Riella felt strangely shy, even though nothing happened between them. Nothing except holding hands and sleeping side by side and talking, at least. But those things weren’t as monumental as sex, were they?
She stood. “We should return to camp and work on the ship. They’ve probably started without us already.”
After gazing up at her for several moments, he hauled his long body from the rock. “You’re right. We should go back.”
Once they left the cavern and filed through the vibrant green path back to camp, the night they spent in the rock pools seemed almost like a dream. Jarin walked in silence, and Riella did not speak either, unsure what to say. What did last night mean, if anything?
She’d liked it, she knew that much. She liked talking to Jarin, and being near him. But growing close to a pirate was not her mission. Her mission was to fulfill her promise to Seraphine.
Back at camp, Kohara braided straw with the children, the pirates already at the beach. The older woman looked up as Riella and Jarin approached. If Kohara had any thoughts about them disappearing all night, she let nothing show on her lovely, lined face.
She smiled. “A good day to both of you. And some fine news. My husband’s ready to speak with you.”
“At the cave?” asked Jarin, his face brightening.
Kohara nodded.
The children peered at Riella nervously, though they did not hide. After a breakfast of mango and banana and chunks of coconut, she and Jarin set down a different path, headed farther inland through the jungle, so that the crashing waves faded altogether. The only sounds were the buzzing of insects and the odd birdcall.
This path was wider, allowing them to walk side by side, and rusted ship parts marked the route to the cave. Jarin appeared deep in thought, the gold pendant around his neck glinting in the sun.
“Where did you get the pendant?” she asked.
“It was my mother’s,” he replied without looking down at it. “It’s the Starlight Gardens symbol.”
“Of course, I remember now. I saw that same symbol at Polinth’s workshop.”
“The High Magus gifted it to her, for her excellence in magic. She gave it to me because she had a silver and garnet necklace that she preferred. It belonged to her grandmother, I believe.”
“Oh. A grandmother. What’s it like to have family?”
He glanced over at her, his brow creasing. “What do you mean? Don’t you have family?”
“Not really. Another siren would’ve birthed me, but I don’t know who, nor have I really cared. A siren can only become pregnant on the eve of the dark moon, and only if she chooses. It’s all very straightforward. What difference does it make who birthed me, anyway? We are all one.”
“Well, it makes a difference to humans. Who we are and where we come from means a lot. Sometimes, it feels like it means everything.”
Riella waved an insect from her face. “Yes, you do get very attached to other humans. But also, you are very cruel to one another. That’s what I don’t understand.”
“We don’t understand it either, truth be told. It’s a constant source of anguish. Ferrante says that attachment is the root of all pain, and I can’t say I disagree with him there.”
“What are you attached to?”
“Nothing, if I can help it.”
“Then, what’s the point of being a human if you aren’t going to get attached to anything?”
“Good question.” He shook his head. “Wish I knew the answer. Maybe Ferrante can tell me.”
“How long has he been here on Hieros Isle?”
“He was marooned over a year ago now, for giving Artus a prediction he strongly disliked. Neither of them would tell me what it was. I reckon that Ferrante predicted his downfall. It’d be the only explanation for his reaction.” Jarin gestured at the lush green flora. “I think Ferrante likes it better here anyway. He says that Artus leaving him here was fate.”
“Fate,” repeated Riella. “Do you believe in it?”
“Me? I’m just a simple pirate. I believe in rum and salt water and a favorable wind.”
She clicked her tongue. “Tell me, really.”
He was silent for a long time.
“I know my father believed in it,” he said eventually. “Seers in his own village, back in Hatara, told him that he’d meet my mother. They said she would lead him to his death. He still sought her out, and married her, because he believed there was a reason for everything. He would gladly fight anyone and anything, but not fate.”
Riella pondered this. “Sounds like he was brave, and wise.”
“He was.” Jarin pointed to a sandstone overhang ahead. “Those are the caves. We’re nearly there.”
At his instruction, Riella dove from a sandstone bank through turquoise freshwater, which tunneled under a natural wall. She emerged on the other side to a temple-like interior. The floor was red sand and the smooth golden sandstone arced high to form the cave. Sunlight filtered through natural circular holes in the walls.
A small man with leathery skin sat crosslegged on the sandy floor. He was very thin and wore a loose white cotton outfit, his bare feet black on the bottom. Intricate patterns were traced into the sand in front of him.
Seeming to hear them arrive, he opened his eyes as they approached.
“Ah—” he said, smiling up at Jarin. “My boy, you are here.”
“Hello, Ferrante. But of course, you knew I was coming.”
“Sit, sit, please,” he replied.
Only when Riella sat did she notice that his eyes were milky white and blind.
He bowed his head. “Welcome. I am Ferrante.”
“I’m Riella.”
“I have been expecting to meet you,” he said, resting his hands in his lap. “The dark moon whispered your imminent arrival, nights ago. I am glad you found your way here.”
“I didn’t find my way,” said Riella uncertainly. “Jarin brought me.”
The old man continued to smile serenely.
“We found a map,” said Jarin. “Artus was sure he’d find the Amulet of Delphine with it. Can you read it? It’s in Shirranis.”
“Shirranis? Then, I will need to view it on another plane. Lay it on the sand.”
Jarin nudged Riella. She withdrew the parchment and put it down, taking care to avoid the patterns the Seer had drawn. Ferrante stared straight ahead without blinking.
When he spoke again, he traced his fingertip through the sand. “This lunar cycle heralds enormous shifts, in this realm and others. You are part of that shift. Both of you. The end of the cycle will mean the end of your fate.”
Riella’s heart thudded. What in the seven seas did that mean?
The Seer continued. “The key to victory lies in sacrifice. The siren-who-walks is written in this parchment. You are meant to be here. You are meant to walk. Never doubt that, or your power.”
The old man stopped moving his finger in the sand. “Do you want to know more?”
“Yes,” said Riella. “Of course.”
But he simply sat there, staring straight ahead as if in a trance. Riella raised her brows at Jarin. The pirate held up his hand for her to wait.
Pools of sunshine moved across the sandy floor as the sun traversed the sky.
While they waited, Jarin picked up handfuls of sand and let them fall into little mounds, grain by grain, like sand through an hourglass. Eventually, a beam of sunlight touched the parchment. The sun progressed until the entire surface of the parchment was illuminated.
Riella looked up into Ferrante’s eyes. At once, the rest of the cave fell away, leaving only his two white irises. Then, she experienced the strangest sensation, as if being pulled into the ocean by a strong current.
Ferrante’s eyes now looked healthy and blue, with black pupils, and the cave was replaced with endless cobalt depths. She and the Seer were somehow in the ocean, or a realm very much like it. Dark blue streaks, like liquid smoke, swirled around her and the old man. Riella longed to tear her gaze from his eyes to investigate her surroundings, but found herself unable.
Ferrante’s voice appeared in her head, although his mouth did not move. He was Sending.
“Only a siren’s Voice may open the chest where the Amulet of Delphine lies. The amulet will be found, and an adversary will be defeated. But a dusk must follow every dawn. A loss for every gift. On the next full moon, the siren-who-walks will be reunited with her Voice, only to?—”
Abruptly, he withdrew from her head, like water sucked out to sea during low tide. The dark blue streaks also receded, until they faded to nothing. Ferrante’s eyes returned to white, and the sunny, sandy cave materialized around her.
Riella blinked, trying to reorient herself.
Ferrante leaned forward to pick up the parchment. The mystical symbols were gone, replaced by the lines and markings of a proper map.
“What was that?” asked Riella. “Where did we go?”
“To the home of the Sea Witch, of course. She does not dwell on the flesh-and-blood plane. With her blessing, I offer you the map.”
Riella took the parchment and inspected it, letting out a small laugh of victory. The marked undersea caves were familiar to her. But then, she remembered that she could no longer swim to those depths. On the bright side, nor could any human.
“Thank you,” said Riella to Ferrante. “But was there anything else? I believe I was severed from your voice midway through a sentence.”
The old man heaved a sigh. “Some things are best not to know.”
A violent sense of premonition washed over her. At that moment, she knew that she was existing in the time before some great and awful truth. And when that moment passed, she’d be living in the after.
“Tell me,” she said, gripping the map.
He bowed his head and spoke the same sentence aloud, this time to completion.
“On the next full moon, the siren-who-walks will be reunited with her Voice, only to perish at dawn and be washed away with the tide.”