Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(6) Ande: The Song

There's still no sign of Makeba or Neem around the camp, so I've resolved to make friends with as many of the Sandsingers as I can in the meantime. Little as I trust many of them after Ruka and Keshko's warnings, it's the least I can do to keep Taiki and I safe if we're to go into battle with them. The friendlier I am, the more likely the Sandsiders are to have my back in a fight.

The silver-tailed sisters are a good first bet for befriending. Since my confrontation with Makeba, they've resumed work on the net they're making, knotting seaweed with swift hands. The look up and smile when they see me. They have the same smile. It looks genuine, at least. I greet them both, throwing in an extra polite touch where I can, then ask their names. One has a sign name that curls her fingers like a shell. The other's is bright and quick against her cheek, like the spray of orange sparks you get when you hit a burning stick against another. I repeat them back until I have a handle one them, then ask, "Can I help?"

They make room for me. The net they're making is nearly identical to the ones we used to use on Telu. When the second sister makes another knot, though, I see subtle differences in the way she holds her hands. Seeing me watching, she makes another, more slowly this time. It's the same way people taught me as a little girl, and a twinge of nostalgia shakes me as I pick up two seaweed strands and copy the knot. It doesn't go the way it's supposed to. Seaweed, it turns out, is a very different medium than coconut twine. I undo the knot and try again. As girls, Naina and I would make tiny hand-nets and run up to the salt pools to try to catch fish before we got caught. I wonder what this net is for.

On the third try, the seaweed obeys me. The first woman looks over in approval—a good sign. Under three sets of hands, the net grows like a spider's webbing. Its middle was three-pointed when we started, and it maintains that shape. What do the Sandsingers do with a triangular net? It's not very broad, either, and its corners splay far. Those would get caught on every rock and snag they came across. Or maybe that's the point.

I pause and consider the net at its full size. When cast, it would tangle easily with whatever it landed on: the fins of a large fish, tentacles of a hunted squid, or arms and tail of a Kel. I see one corner of the older sister's mouth twitch as she catches me staring. Her sister ties off a corner with long strands to spare, then picks up a rock from behind her. It's the size of my fist, with a hole though the middle that doesn't look natural. My suspicions are confirmed as she binds it to the net.

"For squid or Kels?" I ask.

They look even more pleased. "Both," signs one.

I work with them until the leaders return. Neem takes off again immediately. I excuse myself, and am already halfway across the camp when Makeba turns to look for me. She's wearing a neutral expression that I find harder to read than Feather. It doesn't budge as I approach her.

"I talked to Ruka," I sign. "She told me to ask you about the transformation song."

A dark look flashes across Makeba's features. "Talk to Neem," she signs, and turns away a little too quickly to be just dismissive.

Curiosity and concrete instructions make me bolder, and I dare to skip around in front of her again. "Ruka told me you'd be best equipped to teach me."

"My co-leader is just as qualified."

"Is he Rashi-blessed?"

"I didn't learn from a Rashi-blessed."

"And how long did that take you?"

I shouldn't be speaking out like this. I know I shouldn't. But with my people's lives on the line and a weird feeling that I've backed Makeba into an invisible corner, I jerk my chin up and tilt my head in return, a mimicry of her own favorite expression. She's now admitted that she's qualified to teach me the Song. Now I want to know who she learned it from—and why.