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

(2) Taiki: Karu Poison

I keep forgetting how fast Signals are. I have to tell the girl to wait three times as we cross the city; she swims head-first, but even her danger-watch swimming is faster than mine. And she doesn't act scared. Not that she would; I know only two Signals on a first-name basis, and they could each probably take on a shark if they wanted to. I don't know if they're all trained that way. And then I have to amend that thought, because it's unlikely that all Signals are trained a single way, even if it's common among their people. If the last few moons have taught me anything, it's that the only thing so universal among and within Kel peoples is the Unity Song.

Which I probably shouldn't make assumptions about, either. There are Kel peoples who don't sing.

I nearly run into the girl as she pulls up short over the ruins. When she looks at me again, her expression has shifted in a way that makes me edge back a little. She eyes me like she's not sure if I'll bite. "You're part of that island Kel's alliance, aren't you?" she says.

I swallow hard. I've never stated outright that I support Ande's endeavors to build this alliance. I'm not against it, but I still have issues with things like gathering people in Roshaska, and it'll be hard for me to claim anything when I'm trying to find and convince my people. But I guess we're allied enough, if only because I'm not about to start attacking Ande, and she's not about to start attacking me. I think. I still don't know what she thinks of me now that Yaz's island reveal has driven a wedge between us.

"Yes," I sign, because the Signal Kel—I don't know her name—is waiting for an answer. "We work together."

"Are you on good terms?"

I try not to wince. "Good enough?" But the question and her sudden wariness after being so willing to trust me aren't normal, so I add, "Why?"

"She attacked you here, didn't she?"

My mind blanks. This girl already said she's seen me here twice, one of which was six moons ago. That was when my people passed through the city on our way out to the three-moon deep with Ande in tow. I came back to Roshaska after we were attacked. I wanted to sing a death-blessing... the death-blessing. Ande caught me in the middle of it. I have only vague memories of that encounter, and they're all blurred, like I'm trying to re-watch them through the clouded water of the Karu-sana. Ande threatened me, I think. But she didn't need to. I took her back to her island voluntarily.

I shake my head, as much to clear the sticky shreds of memory as anything. Then I realize that looks like I'm denying the attack, which very much happened. I twist my hands together, then sign, "Yes, but it's complicated. We work together now."

The girl nods once and takes off again. I guess that's all the questioning I'm going to get about that incident, and I'm not sad about it. I shove the memories away again.

I follow the girl until we slow around the lee side of the city. Well, lee-and-side. It's a corner of the city center I don't think my people have ever been to, though even describing it that way feels pointless. We've never been most places in Roshaska. I don't even know how big the full city is. It's deep enough that no exploration-worthy amount of light ever reaches it from above, and hand-lights only go so far. Especially when you keep them low on purpose because you're always scared of divers when you pass through.

There are a hundred entrances here just like there are everywhere else in Roshaska, but the girl knows where she's going. One more shoulder-check, and she beckons me into an average-sized, nondescript entrance-hole. I pull back instinctively. I hate being inside. I hate having walls around me. It was bad enough in Underfarrow, and though these tunnels are far wider, they're also older, sacred, and decrepit in a way that makes my skin crawl. A part of me whisper-signs that I'd feel safer if people maintained these, too, to mitigate the risk of them collapsing. And then I have to chastise that idea, because nobody should be touching the walls of Roshaska.