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

(1) Taiki: Stone City

Three days. If Yaz had only agreed to talk to me when I first asked, I'd have stayed in Roshaska as the others retreated back to Underfarrow. That's what I tell myself, anyway, to keep my mind off the darkness that encroaches all around me as I descend into the Shalda-sana. Alone. It's the first time in half a year that I've started any distance-journey on my own. Completely alone, without the promise of a return to whatever group I left, or of another person at the other end. There's no guarantee I'll find my tribe.

But though the darkness encroaches, it doesn't swallow me like my mind keeps expecting it to. I can remember the last time I faced down the other ocean: down in the Shalda-Ki-Tu when we found a severed Kel's arm and tasted blood in the water. There are still things that can set me off. It's just that darkness and solitude aren't among those anymore.

I touch the handle of the bone dagger tucked at my hip. I feel only a little bad for stealing it from Underfarrow; even Yaz doesn't know I took this, but I always intended to ask for one. The first time I asked Casin to show me how to fight diving Kels, we just talked. She knew so many things, though, that I ended up asking about fighting, too, then let slip that I've practiced with Karu weapons before. Mostly spears, but I like daggers better. She offered to show me some tricks for that, too.

The deep Shalda-sana still presents me with mirages at the corners of my eyes: flickers of motion in the shape of things that used to mean danger. But what they actually are has changed. Shark fins are now Sar, or Ruka, or Casin. Even if my mind trips on those, it presents El and Innis as alternatives before I start spinning. I know more sharks now than the rest of my tribe combined, which isn't hard: I'm pretty sure their combined total is zero. Diving Sami also become Underfarrow Kels. And the red flickering of the signal squid that once hunted me and the other children is occasionally Devir, but more often Yaz.

The truth is, I don't actually blame Yaz for not telling me how to approach my people until we were all the way back to Underfarrow. I didn't quite figure it out at the time, but talking with Finika—the friendliest full-Karu I've met in years—has left me with something that continues to stick to me well into the second, then third day of swimming. Something warm, like the sun-drenched shallows my eyes can still adjust to, given long enough. I'd forgotten how good it feels to be around Karu I admire.

Three days. It's a lot of time to think, but also none at all. It's a lot of time to worry that my people might have passed through Roshaska already, though even that might make things easier for me. I can catch up to them even if they're already past the city, and talk to them away from the many Kels I know are hiding in Roshaska. Out on the silt flats, there's less risk of eavesdropping, and no risk at all of someone popping from the city in the midst of my storytelling, blowing my cover. I won't be able to hide the fact that I knew they were there.

Three days is no time at all to finalize what I want to tell my people.

It's almost a relief when the currents change, and I find myself on the last stretch towards Roshaska. I'm used to my own company, but not when there's so much going on in my head. Still, my heart is loud enough for any shark to feel by the time I stop outside the first coral-block walls. Coming here for a utilitarian purpose feels wrong. We only pass here twice a year, always with rites and rituals and offerings. With lights subdued and minds turned to reverence for Andalua. I intend to give the entrance rites anyway, but it isn't the same, because my hands still stop before I start the first signed prayer. I still can't pray to Andalua.

Tears prick my eyes. If my people have come here already, they've done this. Begged for protection from a deity who's actually the reason they need to beg. They'll have told her they'll pass through this city quickly, when there's a decent chance I'll intercept them here. And if they haven't arrived yet, I'll need to stop them from praying. I want to stop them. Never again should my people pray to Andalua. Not until she stops killing them, that is.