Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I smile at that.
“Do you want me to introduce you to everyone?” he asks, walking through the village and ignoring the eyes upon us. “Or do you want to just find someplace to hide for a while? I know it can feel overwhelming when you first arrive.”
“Can we just keep walking?”
His thick mustache twitches. “Of course we can.”
He continues to steer me along, and I’m surprised to see there are woven mats that act as bridges between one turtle and the next. We cross over one to another turtle, and this one has so much thick mossy growth upon it that there are even trees. An entire orchard of trees. I’m fascinated, because Akara’s back is mostly bare, but this turtle must be a great deal older. I eye one of the trees and see the same large tree nuts that I’d seen on the sand spit. “Do all the turtles grow trees on them?”
“The ancient ones do, aye. As they grow older, they submerge less and less, and are content to drift with the flotilla for what we provide.” He leads me to the side of the bridge and points down at the crevasse between the two turtles. Water laps and splashes in the gap between them and tiny minnows jump into the air. “There are a great many small fish attracted to the flotilla and they keep the undersides of the turtles clean. The turtles pull their food from the water and the particles in it. Don’t ask me how. I’m just here to look pretty.”
“It’s fascinating,” I admit. “But it’s so different from the world I come from.”
“I’m Yshremi,” he agrees, laughing. “A landlocked people. So I know very well what you mean.”
I’m surprised. Yshrem is halfway across the world. “However did you end up here?”
“It’s a long story.” He grins, his tanned face crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Want to hear it while you watch me scrape some fish leather?”
I hesitate, because my every instinct tells me to go and check on Ranan, to see how his leg is doing. To see if he’s comfortable…or if he misses me. But then I remember his words.
You don’t please me.
Bribe. Not bride.
How do I know Ranan’s not hiding behind his words when he misspeaks so often? I push my hurt—and my thoughts of my husband—aside. “You know what? I would love to learn how you make the fish leather. Is that what this is?” I touch my wrap. When he nods, I continue. “I also need to learn how to swim. I don’t suppose you could teach a fellow human how to keep up with the seakind?”
“I’m sure I can,” Balo says, voice friendly. He squeezes my shoulder. “Learning to swim is half the trick of fitting in here.”
And I desperately need to fit in. “Good, because I need all the tricks I can get.”
Chapter
Twenty-Five
RANAN
Daidu’s potions taste like the underside of a hamarii turtle, but they’re effective. They also make me sluggish, and I spend most of the day sleeping in the healer’s tent. When I wake up, my leg no longer burns, and the skin is less swollen than before. My stomach growls fiercely, and I sit up in my bed, wondering where the healer is.
Before I can get up, the tent opens and Vali steps in with a large bowl in her hands. Her hair is dry and piled atop her head, and her nose is pink from being out in the open all day. She still wears the wrap given to her earlier, but there is a new belt around it and it fits better. It emphasizes her large breasts and her long legs. She looks good. Fresh. Beautiful.
I sit up, eager to speak with her. To hear her thoughts on the flotilla. To hear if she still hates me. “Where have you been?”
Her brows go up.
My face grows hot. Perhaps that sounded demanding. “I was worried about you.”
“Your job is to lie here and rest up,” she says in a light, cheery voice. She sits next to me and holds out the bowl of food. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
“I still worry about you.” I deliberately brush my fingers over hers as I take the bowl. “How are you feeling? Do your lungs ache? I worry you took in too much water.”
“I’m fine. You eat.” She flicks a hand at the bowl.
I hold it back out to her. “Share?”
“I’ve already eaten. Balo’s husband caught a large fish and there was enough for several people.” She clasps her hands in her lap, watching me.
“You found Balo then? What did you think of him?” The dish is one of my mother’s favorites—fermented fish wrapped in dried seaweed. It reminds me of being a young minnow and eating everything put before me so I could grow up strong and tall like my father. It is a very typical dish for my people, and a delicious one. It is also one I suspect Vali would not like, as Balo hated it when he first arrived. It is my mother’s quiet way of enticing me to rejoin the flotilla.