by Cully Mack
‘How?’ Huldah asked.
‘We are near the shoreline and far behind the other vessels. There are more of us now and maybe we could slip off the ship’s stern one at a time without notice.’
‘What and abandon the new girls?’ Mirah asked.
‘We have to leave them.’ Dara continued. ‘Too many of us going missing will draw their attention. We’ll need to make small distractions. Nothing too obvious. If we are lucky, we can swim to shore before they even see we’ve gone.’
‘What if they come after us?’ asked Ayla.
‘I don’t know, let’s get off this ship before we worry about that,’ Dara replied.
They all agreed Huldah, Dara, Ayla and Abela should leave first as they were less likely to be missed. Whispered debate arose over who should go next. Due to Neviah’s latest outburst, they presumed she was being watched and Neviah pointed out that Nate never took his eyes off Mirah for long. After much debate, they decided Mirah would go last and if needed distract Nate.
All their planning was to no avail. When they rose above deck the following morning the coastline was a distant shadowy grey. It was a good plan, and they agreed to follow it through at the next opportunity.
❊
At dusk, Mirah lingered near the hatch but Nate was nowhere in sight. She was about to retire when he marched across the deck.
‘You never came for your lesson last night,’ he said, his gaze settling on her lips.
She darted a glance at him and what she saw there made her shift. ‘Is that what it is?’
‘What else would it be?’
‘I was busy,’ she declared.
He took a deep breath and after a heartbeat, said, ‘You can’t help them you know?’
‘Well, I can at least try.’
‘What can you offer them?’
She didn’t let her voice waver. ‘I’m a healer.’
She figured he didn’t need to know she was still in training and besides she understood enough to get by.
He searched her, his piercing blue eyes possessing her as she tried to hold his stare.
‘I see you, you know.’
Mirah blushed. Feeling a fraud and outmatched by his intense new attitude, she walked over to the side of the ship.
A moment later, Nate came up beside her, his manner more controlled. ‘You would do well with the Azu but I suspect you wouldn’t like their appearance.’
She turned from facing the ocean. ‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’
‘You’ll see,’ he said his face breaking into a knowing smile. ‘Where I come from we have a rare plant. It’s a little like a lily, but larger and has the most exquisite silver tubular flowers rising above glossy green leaves. In the sunlight, the petals open to reveal a cluster of golden stamen.’
‘It sounds beautiful. What is it used for?’
‘It’s one of the deadliest poisons I know.’
He grinned and although Mirah resisted she couldn’t help but smile.
When it was dark, he pointed out more constellations. ‘See up there, that is The Old Man. He’s an ancestor of Enhil and over there is The Crab, the seat of Anu. And that is The Lion— he’s called Latarak, the protector, although I believe he has another name which I do not know. It’s my favourite constellation. The star which stands in front is The Abundant One and behind is The Star of Dignity.’
The Dignity Star shone brighter than the others and twinkled with an icy blue glow.
‘Is there a star up there called Cruel Deliverer?’
A surge of pain drifted across his face and she regretted how her words cut him even if they were true. Hoping to catch him unguarded she asked, ‘How many tithes do you need?’
‘Six lots of six.’
She made a quick mental calculation. The total was thirty-six. They needed another eighteen. They still had time to make their escape when they drew closer to the shoreline.
He stood stone rigid, and she knew if she didn’t appease him he’d say no more. ‘I didn’t mean to be so cruel just now.’
‘I deserve it. You must hate me.’
His tone was urgent, testing to see if his assumption was true. Why did he care what she thought?
‘Who is the tithe for?’
Nate sighed in resignation. ‘I don’t suppose it matters anymore, you’ll find out soon enough. The tithe is for my stepfather. When I was a babe, my father died. My stepfather married my mother, but she died giving birth to Bishnor.’
His sadness was dipped in anger and she could see him resisting, forcing his feelings deep within.
‘Anyhow. I have little memory of her and none of my father.’ Shaking his head as if to shake off the fragments of his past, he turned to her. ‘My stepfather is a god. That’s why Bishnor and the others are so formidable and mighty.’
He glanced over his shoulder at Bishnor still sat on the bow. As if in answer to his statement, Bishnor rose and stretched out his powerful arms.
Mirah swivelled her gaze back from the muscles bulging across his shoulders and asked, ‘Are all the giants his sons?’
‘No, not all. Five gods descended together from the heavens.’
‘What does your stepfather do with the tithes?’
‘The tithes go into service.’
Mirah couldn’t believe what he was saying, and she was sure loathing laced his tone. She wanted to ask more about these gods and what kind of service they expected but Nate shifted into a stiffened posture which she recognised as conversation over. He wouldn’t be divulging anything further.
As if in confirmation, he sighed. ‘It’s getting late. You should go now.’ He walked her over to the hatch and opened it.
As she descended into the hold, she paused, the softness of her voice whispered on the breeze. ‘I’m sorry about your mother.’
❊
At breakfast, Nate stood on the bow of the ship next to Bishnor.
Neviah fiddled with the band on her braid. ‘We need to find out their intentions and I for one, will not wait until tonight. God or no god, I refuse being forced into service by anyone.’
She picked an apple from the platter on the barrel and making sure none of the men were paying attention, rolled it up the deck. The motion of the apple caused crewmen to lift their heads, and she feigned being clumsy and set off to retrieve it. She soon came rushing back, apple in hand and hurried past them towards the stern. As discretely as they could they meandered after her.
‘What did you hear?’ Dara asked.
‘That giant accused Nate of spending too much time with her.’ Neviah sneered at Mirah. ‘He’s not your friend, no matter how much you think he favours you. He’s lying. I heard him say, back off brother. It’s my ship, my rules and if I single out one girl to keep the rest in line, it will be one of my choosing.’
Neviah’s words dropped like a rock in the pit of her stomach and she restrained herself from doubling over. Their voices blended into an inconsistent hum of syllables which held no meaning. He was using her. He wasn’t sorry.
She rushed for the hatch, her vision blurred, dizziness sending her with a thud to the deck. Nate was soon at her side. He lifted her up, took her to his quarters and laid her on the bed. The sandalwood and cinnamon scent of him clung to his blanket. That she recognised it made her recoil into a place deep within.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, pouring her water.
Mirah rolled over and faced away from him.
‘Are you ill?’
‘Just go. Leave me alone.’
He hovered for a moment before the door creaked shut. Drawing her knees up into her chest, she rocked herself until she fell asleep.
Faceless gods and monsters chased her through her dreams. She kept running, faster and faster, never looking behind as they breathed the heat of their disgusting sickness on the nape of her neck. Exhaustion gripped her and then Nate was there. Would he save her? He snarled in her face. I was wondering how much you could take before you break? Her body recoiled at t
he sight of him and she awoke.
Nate hadn’t left. He sat on the floor, leaning against the door with his arms resting on his bent knees, concern written on his face. He’s such a good liar she thought.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked.
‘Bad fruit.’
He didn’t believe her and she didn’t care.
❊ 3 ❊
A sedating fog brooded over the ocean for most of the morning until bringing peace to the choppy waves. Once calmed its unsullied whiteness crept away leaving them under the far-reaching scope of blue sky. By the afternoon they rowed towards a foreign shore.
Mirah suppressed Nate’s betrayal. If he wanted to use her to keep the peace, she’d let him. It wasn’t as though their goals differed in that regard.
The girls were waiting by the tent watching the distant forest of green spreading along the cliff tops. They’d agreed as soon as the tree’s brown trunks became visible Mirah would make her move. She hoped Nate would leave Bishnor’s side soon. If he didn’t what then? They couldn’t slip off without notice, he glanced over too often for that.
Her belly ached with apprehension. There were so many ways their escape could go wrong. She ducked into the tent and patted water on her face.
‘It’s time,’ Huldah said, popping her head inside.
Mirah clasped her arms around her. ‘Don’t take any risks. If you’re not sure wait. There will be another chance.’
Huldah gave her a slight smile. ‘Go. I’ll wait for you on the shore.’
Mirah brushed her skirts and flicked back her hair. Crossing to midway up the vessel, she halted. Nate frowned and through gritted teeth argued with Bishnor. For the first time, she didn’t care why and positioned herself to obscure their view. Too focused on Bishnor, he didn’t peer her way.
After some time, awkward glances from the crew made it impossible to stay. She had nothing, no idea how to gain Nate’s attention without raising Bishnor’s as well. Reduced to a failure she turned to leave.
‘Did you want something?’ Nate asked.
He’d moved fast and the sound of his quickened breaths matched her own. If she played this right, they might escape after all.
‘I lied to you yesterday. It wasn’t bad fruit.’
Nate walked away from his crew and she followed, keeping to his right so his back faced the ship’s stern. She kept silent for as long as possible without his gaze wandering. Let him think she struggled to confess the truth. Now he was here, she didn’t know how to distract him. She gripped the ship’s rail. It seemed like the right thing to do. Conscious that she needed to buy them time, she switched tack.
‘Did Bishnor say something you didn’t like?’
‘So it wasn’t bad fruit?’
He let his question hang in the air with a sense of amusement. That he’d ignored her question and got straight to the point like he’d won some kind of achievement gnarled deep within.
‘Nev accused me of giving you the wrong impression.’
His eyes widened. ‘And what impression is that?’
So he intended to drag the truth out of her and if his blue-eyed gaze was anything to go by, he appeared more focused than ever. She could play along if it gave the others more time.
She recalled the times she’d seen Dara flirting with Liron, luring him closer by saying one thing and meaning another with the grace of a beautiful deer. The sheepish look she attempted fell short, so she opted for a small smile.
‘Well, you know.’ Her cheeks heated, and she berated herself for her lack of skill.
‘I’m not sure what you mean?’ he goaded.
‘Just because Neviah says we spend too much time together. It doesn’t mean anything. I wouldn’t want you thinking I like you in that way.’
‘What way exactly?’
His grin was the complete opposite to the snarling face she’d seen in her nightmare. So much so, she struggled to remember who he was and why she was playing along. She closed her eyes to prevent herself from glancing at the others and alerting him to their departure.
‘You know.’ She shrugged.
‘No, I don’t. What are you trying to say?’
‘I just want to make it clear, I don’t like you that way.’
‘So you do like me?’
‘What?’
‘By you saying you didn’t like me that way implies that you like me in another way. I get it. It happens, there’s no need to be shy about it. I just had no idea.’
‘No, you’re mistaken. I didn’t mean—’
This was all going wrong. How could he believe she liked him in any way after all that had taken place?
He laughed, and she looked up more confused than ever.
‘I understand why you would never like me in that way,’ he confessed. ‘I just found your behaviour amusing. By the way, I can see what you’re plotting. Don’t.’
She fixed her focus on the boats rowing towards the shore and held in the horror that he’d somehow overheard their plans.
‘You think my vessel will be too slow and if you swim fast enough, you could reach the shore in the next bay before the others return with smaller boats. It’s true. What you’ve yet to realise is Dagani circle beneath us.’
‘Dagani?’
‘They are servants of my stepfather.’
Mirah peered into the ocean. She observed nothing other than darkness breached by the cresting of foaming white waves.
‘What are they?’
‘Monsters of the deep.’
‘You’re mocking me.’
‘See for yourself.’ Nate let out a whistling shrill.
She surveyed the ocean, half expecting to see nothing.
Did he believe she’d succumb to this nonsense? He sounded like Gabe teasing her about Leviathans. Still, it grated on her that he’d thought of her in such simple terms. Even if in her heart she knew it was true.
Beside the vessel, the swell sank into a whirling depression and an arc of scales the colour of clotted blood breached the surface. They curved like a red crescent moon as its eely form arced out of the water. The scales rippled up and over before descending back into the deep with graceful ease.
Mirah wondered at the extent of the sea dragon when a ribbed dorsal fin broke the surface. The beast paused its motion, revealing scaly skin, stretched taut between each of its dorsal fin’s ribs. In the central fin was a hole covered with a glossy membrane. It slid up and an amber serpentine eye blinked open. She jumped back. Whether this was the only one or hundreds of these beasts lurked below, she knew leaving this vessel was not an option.
‘No,’ she cried and shot off to the stern of the ship. Neviah’s face blanched as she ran towards her with Nate’s thudding footsteps following behind.
‘Nev, stop them,’ she screamed.
By the time she reached the stern it was too late. Huldah had already jumped overboard, each stroke of her arms bringing her closer towards the bay. Mirah called after her but she didn’t turn.
‘What’s going on?’ Neviah asked.
Before she could answer, two ribbed fins rose out of the water. One on either side of Huldah as though guiding her towards her fate.
‘You must do something. Call them back,’ Mirah begged.
‘There’s nothing I can do. I can’t stop them.’
The fierce current pushing against Huldah slowed her progress. Hunted by an unseen hunger, she was oblivious to their existence. The Dagani sliced through the swell racing in front of her.
‘Are they leaving?’ Neviah asked. ‘Maybe they haven’t seen her.’
‘No. They rarely hunt on the surface, preferring the depths of dark waters. They’ll swim ahead and turn, so the sunlight is behind them before… If I was you, I wouldn’t watch.’
Huldah had almost reached the waves breaking against the surf when one of the Dagani coiled around her and dragged her under. Everyone stood stunned gaping at the ocean but not even the fins rose again.
‘You should have warned
us,’ Dara snapped.
‘If I were strong enough, I’d rip your head from your shoulders,’ Neviah yelled, ‘And your god’s after that.’
The shadow of Bishnor fell over them like an ominous cloud and Nate clenched his fists. He ignored their sobs and whimpering.
‘Do you realise what you’ve done? Did you believe I hadn’t noticed you scheming away in your huddled whispers? I knew you’d try something foolish, but I thought you’d have at least had the sense to wait until my men reached the shore. She will need to be replaced.’ He glared at Mirah as if she was to blame. ‘You know nothing,’ he said and stormed off towards his cabin.
No one spoke. No one noticed the shadow fading away. They stood facing the ocean. Hoping for a hope that would never come.
❊
They’d travelled another three days before the smaller boats went ashore to retrieve the next six girls. At night Mirah replayed over and over the events leading up to Huldah’s death. It wasn’t her fault. Whatever Nate thought of her, she could never have known about the Dagani. Her mind betrayed her, trying to convince itself of what she refused to accept. Nate had tried to warn her. He’d just been too late.
To her horror when the boats returned she counted not six but seven girls on board. Neviah had told her to stop torturing herself but she couldn’t help wonder which of the seven girls replaced Huldah.
They had an aloofness about them which mirrored Nate’s most recent disposition. He hadn’t acknowledged any of them other than to recite his, there are no prisoners aboard my ship, speech to the new arrivals. Even when he spoke it in a foreign tongue, Mirah was sick of hearing it. She’d knotted her hands in her skirts. How could she ever have been so foolish to consider trusting someone who even if he hadn’t done it himself, had stood by whilst giants murdered their families?
The night was warm, the air stuffy and Mirah struggled to sleep. She was deliberating asking to use the privy just to get a moments reprieve when an oil lamp lowered through the hatch.
‘Mirah, I need your help. One of my men fell out the crow’s nest, and he’s injured,’ Nate said.
