“Who?”
“Kye.”
I shook my head, my tangled hair whispering against the tapa cloth wrapped around my chest. “No,Makua. There was a hole in your canoe—”
“Did he hit you?”
I looked at him, horrified. “No, Makua–”
“Did he do something you didn't like? Or did you…reject him somehow?”
Swallowing, I put slow emphasis on my words. “No, Makua.”
He waited, his eyes challenging me, demanding answers.
The Naiads killed the sailors.
I let out a rough sob, resting my brow on my knees. My chest pressed tight against my thighs, but I wrapped my arms around myself anyway, as if I could bend into something so small I’d become nothing more than shadow and sound and the tiny shreds of water that hid in the air.
Beside me, my father released a deep exhale.
“Maren, when he brought you back, he was more terrified than I’ve ever seen another man. He said that you’d capsized. But if you only capsized, why were you unconscious? If you don't tell meexactlywhat happened, I'll go to the dockmaster to have him arrested.”
As if the dockmaster would care if Kye had attacked me. What a stupid thought. Even so, I tore my hands away to glare at him, incensed by the idea. Shame licked my insides, as if the pit of morbid decay had been set aflame, a slow burning seed of rot. “Makua, no. Yourva’asank, and I fell in.”
“How? Tell me. Because I don’t believe you.” He clenched his jaw, his knuckles white. They popped as he curled them, one ata time. His eyes flashed, and heat seeped from him like a dark vapor. I couldn’t help but stare at my father, a rigid mass of smooth island skin over muscle. Always smiling; always joking. I’d never seen my father angry.
“There was a leak.'' My mouth twisted, and I looked pleadingly at my father.
He’d never believed I’d killed anyone. He’d always thought the best of me, even if he’d done so quietly, privately. Hedidn’t believe I was a witch.
“I capsized in the tide. Kye pulled me out of the water. He didn’t attackme,Makua.”
My father licked his lips, covering his jaw with one hand, rubbing his chin hard enough to create indents in his cheeks. “Why did he bring you backunconscious?”
“I don’t know... I think I was unconscious before he pulled me out, and then I blacked out again in his boat. Why?What happened when he brought me home?” If Akamai had been called, half the island likely already knew I’d been ill, and the other half would find out today.
Ano inhaled, holding the air in his chest and gazing out the door, unwilling to say. We fell into silence, each contemplating the missing pieces of a puzzle the other was unwilling to complete.
“I need to ask you a question.” His voice was ragged. He seemed to deflate onto the floor, feet drooped out ahead of him, hesitating as he scratched the back of his neck. I waited, hugging my legs as I watched the birds out the open door.
“Do you make people do things?”
My brows tightened. “Do things?”
“Can you lure people?”
For a moment, stunned silence sat heavily between us. I turned my cheek, the soft skin under my eye dragging against myknee as I sent my gaze boring into him. “What do you mean,lure people?”
“Do you tempt people?”
My mouth went dry. I swallowed and murmured, “Who would I tempt,Makua?”
“I don't know. People. Boys, other islanders. Sailors.”
“And how would I tempt sailors," I whispered through my teeth.
“So, the answer is no?”
