For Wreck and Remnant

by Kate Avery Ellison

He absorbed this information. “No one remains in the village?”

  “It is ravaged. Nothing but ashes now, remember?”

  Nol lowered his head into one hand. “I remember. I just find it hard to fathom.” He lifted his head again, and I saw the naked hope in his eyes.

  Pain lanced me.

  “I could find no information about your family,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  Nol nodded. His jaw tightened, and when he spoke, his voice was ragged. “They perhaps went on to another island. Escaped to somewhere else.”

  “Yes, that is quite possible.”

  I knew he was lying when he said those hopeful words, but I was lying too. I thought they were dead. But what did it matter now, here beneath the sea, when we could pretend to have this small hope?

  A clatter came from the galley, and then a shout and the crash of pans. Nol was on his feet before I could blink, and we both rushed to intercept.

  Tob lay on the floor, covered in pots, and Olis stood beside the stove, a bubbling pot next to her. They both looked startled.

  “What’s going on?” I directed my question at Tob, but Olis answered.

  “I was hungry, and I thought I might prove to this gull-headed one that I know how to cook a proper dish.”

  “I came into the galley and found her preparing some concoction,” Tob snapped. “She could be brewing poison.”

  “It’s just a nice lobster stew,” Olis responded. “You can smell it. Stop pretending you think I’m doing otherwise. You’re just afraid it’s going to taste wonderful, and then you’ll have to admit all Dron recipes aren’t utter garbage.”

  I helped Tob up from the mess of pots, uncertain of what to say. Tob’s neck and ears burned red as he faced the Dron girl. “I’m not afraid of that.”

  “Then prove it. Let me make the dish, and taste it. Let everyone taste it.”

  Tob looked at me.

  “We shouldn’t waste food,” I said. “With so many extra passengers, we barely have enough to get to Verdus.”

  Beside me, Nol’s shoulder twitched, and I think he was holding in laughter. I found the urge to giggle rising in my throat. It had been a long several days, and this conflict was the lightest I’d experienced for some time. I struggled to keep my face expressionless. “Let her make the stew. We’ll try it. The Dron can go first, just in case it’s poisoned as you fear.”

  Tob glowered. “I don’t like it.”

  “If the stew is good,” I continued, “then you both declare a truce.”

  With that, I turned and left the galley. Nol was behind me, and when we reached the corridor, we both leaned against the wall and laughed silently.

  Nol’s eyes met mine, and his amusement filled me with strange warmth.

  A shudder shook the ship, and we stumbled forward, Nol’s hand shooting out to catch me, his fingers closing around my wrist. The squeal of something big scraping against metal above us tore through the air, and before it stopped, I was running for the control room.

  Was it an attack?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  KELI WRESTLED WITH the controls, swearing under her breath. I blanched in horror at what I saw through the glass.

  Tentacles swirled toward the ship like ropes of seaweed, writhing as they reached for us. A maw lined with teeth opened to a black throat. Black ink stained the water.

  Nol made a sound of disbelief behind me.

  “Giant squid... I think,” Keli said to me as I entered. “It’s attacking us.”

  “Is... is that common?” I gasped as the creature lashed out again.

  Keli shrugged with one shoulder without taking her eyes from the view outside. Around us, controls flashed, alerting us to the giant mass of wriggling monster outside. “These waters are rarely traveled, because they’re far from any cities. I took them to avoid Nautilus’s patrols. The squid probably isn’t used to ships, and thinks we’re a sperm whale.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “We’re passing deep water,” she said. “And the Fire Trench is to the east.”

  “I’ve heard about the Fire Trench,” Nol said. “Among the Dron, they say it is the birthplace of monsters.”

  “This thing certainly qualifies.” Keli flipped a few controls, brightening the lights that illuminated the water before us. The lights painted the creature a garish white, distorting it. A flash of suction cup-lined tentacles, a giant staring eye, a bulbous body.

  The squid released another cloud of ink, and the darkness swirled over the glass. Through it, I saw glints of green light.

  “That squid is glowing,” I muttered. “Why is it glowing? Are you seeing this?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care,” Keli said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  She increased the Riptide’s speed, and I held on to the chair as we dove and a shiver went through the ship. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I was sighing through my clenched teeth—a giant squid, not Nautilus, not the Dron betraying us, not my own people firing on us. A giant squid. I met Nol’s eyes and he must have understood, because he smiled back, an expression that turned thoughtful as the moment held.

  The ship swept through darkness now, too deep for the light to penetrate. The ship’s beams caught rocks and rubble in their swath, and every odd-shaped object that leaped from the darkness at us made me flinch. Rocks, more rocks...

  “What is that?” Nol said in a quiet voice.

  A pair of what appeared to be columns covered in barnacles and gray seaweed rose from the gloom, growing larger and larger as we approached. The ship surged between them, and ahead, I saw more. “They’re enormous.”

  “Weird-shaped rocks?” Keli said.

  “No, look at how straight those lines are. Those corners. I think these are ruins,” Nol argued.

  Ruins. I stared at the shapes rising all around us. “A Dron city?”

  “Not that I know of,” he said. “Itlantis?”

  “Nope,” Keli said. “Itlantis only has six cities, and this is far too big to be one of the outposts.”

  We watched, spellbound, as the ruins slipped past. Arches and spheres, domes... the size and scope of the wreck around us made me feel like a speck of dust in comparison. Whatever vestiges of what was left of this former grandeur made the Riptide look like a minnow.

  Finally, the ground was blank sand beneath us again, the water dark and studded with particles, the occasional fish darting away from our approach. The ruins were gone, the spell broken. I let go of the breath I’d been holding. Behind me, Nol stirred.

  “I should see what Garren has gotten himself up to,” he said, as if Garren were a child in need of supervision.

  I wholeheartedly agreed that someone should check on Garren.

  When he turned and left, I stayed where I was. What had that warmth between us meant? I rubbed my arms as a shiver rushed over them, but I wasn’t cold.

  Keli rustled her hair with one hand. The beads clinked. “He’s attractive. For a Dron.” She licked her lips and grinned at me.

  I suspected she was trying to make me uncomfortable, and I wasn’t going to let her. I stared back without blinking. “I could talk to him for you.”

  She laughed. “No thanks. Not my type. Besides, I think he’s more interested in you.”

  I got up from the chair to leave, and she grabbed my arm, laughing. “Don’t stomp out. I’m just teasing you, Promised One.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I pulled my arm away and headed for the common room.

  I found Garren and Tallyn engaged in a game of Hooks, with Nol watching. Garren’s face was creased with barely contained rage, so I surmised Tallyn was winning. Not a surprise.

  “Where’s Lyssia?”

  Tallyn nodded toward the sleeping quarters, and I went to find her.

  She sat on the lower bunk, legs crossed and arms wrapped around her midsection, staring at the port. She scrambled up when I entered, but she couldn’t hide the redness that rimmed her eyes and nose.

  “Ly
ssia?”

  She sniffled. “Did you need something?”

  I noticed the tools and parts scattered around her on the bed. She’d confiscated one of the ship’s clocks. I didn’t scold her. “Are you distressed?”

  She sank back down. “Just thinking about my father.”

  Of course. I’d been thoughtless about that. He was gravely ill, and yet she was here, rescuing me.

  I hovered awkwardly near her. I wasn’t an expert at soothing people, but I wanted to help. “You can talk to me about it if you want.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “What if he doesn’t recover? He never really liked me much, you know. I wasn’t what he wanted. Not scholarly, not adventurous. I think he wished you were his daughter instead.”

  Guilt stabbed at me. Merelus was like a father to me. I’d thoughtlessly enjoyed this privilege without considering how it might make Lyssia feel, and it had hurt her.

  She noticed my expression and hasted to say, “I don’t blame him for being fond of you. I wish you were my sister too. But I wish... I wish he were proud of me sometimes.”

  “I’m sorry,” I managed. “I didn’t realize...”

  She laughed sadly. “I don’t think many people do. They think I don’t notice how he is, but I do.”

  “You’re very adventurous. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

  She sighed. “He always said I was too much like my mother. He and my mother did not get along.” She paused. “Perhaps I should be with him now, but I was just sitting there, watching him be frail and sick, and I wanted to do something. Anything. I insisted on coming to find you. I knew I could help. Prisons mean locks. And this way, I’m not useless.”

  I sat down beside her and hugged her. She clung to me.

  “I just want him to be proud of me,” she said, her voice muffled.

  I patted her back, and I understood.

  “I want my mother to be proud of me too,” I admitted. Saying the words out loud made me feel as fragile as glass, liable to shatter, but Lyssia squeezed me tighter and nestled her head into the curve of my neck, and I was warm and safe for that moment.

  ~ ~ ~

  We had lobster stew for lunch. The air crackled with tension as Olis served the steaming bowls to everyone, her face set with determination. Tob sat at the opposite end of the table, his arms crossed, his eyebrows pulled together in a scowl and his eyes spitting fury.

  I picked up my spoon and stirred my bowl of stew. The dish appeared innocuous. A thick, buttery broth with pinkish chunks of lobster and flecks of something green.

  “It’s a Dron recipe,” Olis said. “I added something special.”

  She paused, observing our silence.

  “Not poison,” she added with a sigh.

  Garren dug in at once, slurping loudly and groaning with satisfaction. “Delicious. Now that’s a meal.”

  Tob radiated displeasure. He picked up his spoon as if selecting a weapon, his eyes never leaving Olis’s. Setting his jaw, he dipped into the stew before him and raised the utensil to his mouth. A droplet splashed onto the table. He opened his lips and slid the bite in, chewed, and swallowed. One eyebrow flicked up slightly. Olis watched him, her tongue pressed against her lower lip, hands clasped before her.

  “An old family recipe,” she added.

  Tob took another bite, and then another. Still he didn’t speak, but his face softened from hostility to something like astonishment.

  I began eating as everyone else did. Flavor exploded on my tongue. This was delectable.

  Keli matched Garren’s appreciation with her own. “This is as good as your cooking, Tob,” she declared.

  The rest of the table froze.

  Tob, however, was shockingly serene. “I suppose it is,” he said.

  Olis looked at my hair. “That’s a Dron braid,” she said. “Where did you learn it?”

  Now it was my turn to feel a rise of hostility. “My mother from the surface,” I said. “I did not learn it from the Dron.”

  She returned her attention to the food, and I touched the braid with one hand, unsettled at her observation.

  ~ ~ ~

  The rest of the trip to Verdus passed in a similarly strained fashion, an uneasy peace kept by a delicate dance of chosen words and sideways looks. Garren and Tallyn played game after game of Hooks, with Garren stubbornly silent as he lost repeatedly. Nol and I exchanged awkward, heat-filled glances and generally avoided each other. I slept fitfully, plagued by dreams and ponderings, and Lyssia continued to seek hugs. Tob and Olis reached a point of uneasy alliance, and they cooked together in the galley, comparing recipes and arguing with an almost cheerful undercurrent as they concocted dazzling meals with our limited supplies. As we grew closer to Verdus, my stomach knotted with apprehension and anticipation.

  Finally, Keli’s announcement rang through the ship.

  “Approaching Verdus,” she said. “Strap yourselves in. Oh, and Dron passengers, prepare to be amazed.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  VERDUS LAY ALONG the seabed, a collection of gleaming oblong domes surrounded by a sea of kelp waving in the current. Schools of blue and yellow fish scattered before us as we approached. Enclosed walkways wove through the kelp forest, and I could make out the figures of men and women walking through them far away. An underwater transport whooshed past on tracks, carrying a load of harvested kelp as we drifted overhead.

  Olis, Garren, and Nol all appeared transfixed as we watched the city through the ports in the common room, although Garren tried to hide his astonishment.

  “It’s not Celestrus,” Lyssia observed, “but it is beautiful. My father would call it exquisite.” She wiped at her eye at the mention of Merelus, and I bumped her shoulder with mine in a silent show of solidarity. She flashed me a tentative smile.

  “We’ll dock at your family’s estate,” Tallyn said to me, and Garren gave me a wide-eyed glance. I stared back, challenging his surprise. Yes, I hadn’t lied about my family. It gave me satisfaction to see him realize that.

  The Graywater dock was a small dome at the edge of the city, the glass covered in gold filigree that glittered and flashed as we approached. The Riptide swept into a slit in the wall, which closed behind us. A rushing sound drowned out our voices as the water was sucked away, and then we disembarked into a dripping bay. Apprehension dropped over my shoulders like a cloak. The last time I’d seen my sister, I’d accused her of attempted assassination. I’d been wrong. And then there was Merelus, clinging to life. And Kit, imprisoned.

  There was much gravity to return to. Anxiety simmered in my veins and rioted in my stomach.

  A door hissed open at the far end of the bay, and figures stepped into view. My breath caught in my throat. My mother and sister, both lingering with a hint of uncertainty in their composure until they spotted me. My mother’s face did not change, but my sister lifted her chin, and her eyes flashed. They waited for us to reach them.

  The knot in my stomach tightened.

  “Aemiana,” my mother said, stepping forward first. “It is good to see you.”

  She was frantic, Tob had said.

  Why couldn’t I see that?

  “I’m glad to be back,” I responded. The words were stiff in my mouth, straitjacketed by the formality of them, of the air around us.

  My mother’s gaze slid from me to the Dron behind me. “You’ve brought a few extra guests.”

  Guests. I didn’t know what to say. The Dron were here in secret. Could I trust her?

  “Yes,” I said. “They were also fleeing.” A true statement. “Can we provide them with temporary shelter?”

  She pursed her lips, and a flash of displeasure rippled across her face a half second before melting into a calm mask of polite disinterest. “Of course.”

  She was frantic.

  I couldn’t believe it. This cold woman? Tob was delusional.

  My sister stepped forward. “I’m so relieved to see you safe,” she said, but the words were cool, a formality. She le
aned forward to give me a peck on the cheek, her lips brushing air instead of my skin, and then she straightened. Her gaze was accusing.

  The events of the night Nautilus had attacked swept through my mind. I flushed. I needed to apologize. I’d been wrong. I’d called her a Graywater and meant it in the worst way. I hadn’t trusted her. I’d thought the worst.

  I wanted to say something, anything, to convey that I was glad to see her again. It wasn’t the time to apologize directly, not in front of my mother, but I had to try to repair things.

  “I—”

  “Let’s retire to more a comfortable location,” my mother said, overriding anything I might have said. “You ought to bathe and eat, and our guests should be shown to rooms.”

  Everything was so cool, always. So formal. I nodded, vowing to speak to Laimila as soon as I got the chance.

  Had she told my mother what I’d accused her of?

  “I’d like to see Merelus,” I said.

  My mother dipped her head to the side, a diplomatic no. “You should bathe first. He is resting. He will not know whether you’ve seen him now or later.”

  “I want to see him,” I repeated, and she sighed. Lyssia, I observed then, had already vanished. I looked for Tallyn. “Please.”

  Tallyn was back in his role as dutiful tutor, and could not support me on this. “You should bathe first, as befits a lady,” he said. “Then I will escort you to visit you friend.”

  I sighed, acquiescing.

  The inside of the Graywater estate in Primus had been ornate and impressive, but the Verdus estate took my breath away. The walls were made of smooth green stone threaded with gray and blue. Lush, leafy plants grew up the walls, entwined columns, and branched out across the ceiling, growing on delicate threads that strung from hooks on the walls. Gold filigree webbed the windows that looked out on the kelp forests, affording views of dolphins and fish. Low chairs and benches piled with cushions were arranged in intimate circles. A fountain splashed, making a soothing sound.

  Residing in this house must be like living in a private garden sphere.

  “Come,” my mother said, leading us forward through rooms and into a spacious hall. A strip of the ceiling was colored glass, the pattern dolphins and men swimming together.