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

(22) Taiki: Three Makes Company

I watch Ande's lights as she disappears around the shrine wall in search of the Sami-Kel she's gotten more attached to in days than she did to my people in a moon. I give her as long as I feel comfortable with, then a little longer to give her the benefit of the doubt. Finally, I can't take it anymore. The salty water flowing around the shrine bites my eyes and makes my tail itch as I jet through it and into the clearer space beyond.

There's no sign of Ande. My trepidation grows as I follow the path I saw her take. The relief of seeing her lights again is immediately negated by two things, both much too close to her: Sar, and a living, coiling Nightcatcher. The Sami-Kel has one hand on the giant octopus, which sits beside them like a docile reef fish. I fight the urge to look for a weapon. Nothing is useful in an attack against an angry Nightcatcher; Ande's only chance of getting away is to sneak backwards and hope Sar doesn't set it on her. I want to get a message to her, but signing in the water at this proximity would let Sar see whatever I say, too.

I decide to do it anyway. Ande looks up when she sees my lights.

"You know you're in a dangerous place right now," I sign.

Ande lifts her hands, but it's Sar who replies first. "It won't hurt her."

"Not if you're singing to it, it won't."

"I'm not singing."

They lift the hand they have resting on the Nightcatcher. In the light from Ande's tail, I see one of its tentacles rise and poke delicately between each of their fingers. It's an intelligent motion, and much too specific to have been controlled.

"It just likes me," signs Sar with their other hand.

"Say that out loud."

I want them to prove it, but they just return their hand to the Nightcatcher's tentacles and don't reply. I can't hear them humming, but they could just be doing it quietly. If they've actually made friends with a Nightcatcher, then how they've done it is beyond me. The species—and especially its nesting females—aren't known for being friendly.

I lean against the wall a safe distance from both of them. "If you're trying to convince us to let you come along further, say it."

"They don't have to," signs Ande coolly. "I've already said yes."

Anger flares on my fingertips. "That's something we decide together."

"Really? That's interesting." I can see her eyes in the lights. They're stone-cold. "Because if that's the case, I would have thought you'd consult me before making threats on my behalf."

They told her. Not even half a moon after joining us, they've already managed to convince Ande I'm hypocritical, overprotective, and unreasonable. If she was thinking right now, she would know how many things don't line up about Sar's story. They haven't been open with us. About who they are, or even what happened the night they nearly got killed by Arcas. I haven't caught them lying outright yet, but any attempt to piece together the full story leaves me with more gaps than details.

There's no reason for Sar to be so familiar with so much of Ashianti territory. They shouldn't have the time to visit a remote seamount often enough to befriend a nesting Nightcatcher—that's time I'd expect from a patrol-Kel or negotiator, not an elite guard. It's suspicious, but Ande doesn't seem to care. She's decided to let this Kel come along on the most important Shalda mission in the last three hundred and forty-five years, and the fury in her eyes tells me she's willing to fight me for it. She probably thinks we'll be safer with Sar's fighting or navigational skills. We might be, but that also isn't the point at all.

I direct my next question to the Sami-Kel. "Why do you want to come along?"

"I already answered that. It hasn't changed."