I watched him tie a knot in the rigging and fought the urge to shoot something else.
“I don’t know what the fuck we are doing.” I ground out, gripping the steel of my hook.
I felt unmoored, like my skin was too tight, but I couldn’t find a way out no matter how hard I tried. It’d been two days since the merrow’s warning. Every mile brought us a little closer to Ximena and, potentially, a sleeping leviathan.
“I would have shot it too,” Val said, pulling at the mast.
All of this was already done for the night, but this restless energy wouldn’t abate, and so we did things second and third times out of necessity. Not to mention my bed was currently occupied by my wife and the demon cat, who eyed me like I had a death wish anytime I even thought about going to bed.
“All I’m saying is Dilly seems to think we got lucky back there, so maybe ask the expert before angering mysterious creatures,” Oscar said.
He stood straight, wiping his hands over his pants before resting them on his hips and staring at me like he was about to tell me something he knew I wouldn’t like.
“No,” I said.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he said.
“Yeah, but you’ve got that look about you.” Val hummed.
“What look?” Oscar asked, sighing dramatically. “It doesn’t matter either way. What matters is that we should plan for the worst. What do we do if Ximena is able to reach us?”
A question I asked myself every few minutes.
“Then I deal with it,” I said.
Val snorted. “Yes, because Rose is going to allow you to sacrifice yourself and just keep sailing onward. That makes perfect sense and is not historically contradictory at all.”
A problem I was currently working out, though, I was coming up short. I could give Ximena what she wants and stay on Mallorca, but I doubted Rose would accept that outcome, even if it meant sparing her life.
“I found it!” screeched my mysteriologist.
I cracked my neck, not knowing whether finding something was a good thing or not, but answers were something this crew and its mission were severely lacking.
Dilly was running across my ship, red curls unrestrained and going every which way as she clutched Edmond’s journal to her chest.
“It’s in here!” she shouted, probably waking the dead.
Val folded her arms and took a long breath like she was preparing for whatever came next.
Not two seconds later, Inu appeared from below, hand on her sword just in case. I shook my head. No danger, just one enthusiastic mysteriologist.
“It’s in here,” she panted, coming to a stop before me. “Daughter of the sea!”
I froze, my hair standing on end. It was like a current of dread pulsing through my bloodstream. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the words the merrow spoke to Rose would come back to haunt us over and over again.
Dilly held out the open book to me and pointed at a passage.
“They talk about a rarity in the deep–the son or daughter of the sea. A child born on a Black Tide Moon. It’s when, despite a full moon above the sea, it appears dark and still like it’s holding its breath. The legends claim that a child born on it may be claimed, replaced, or returned.”
“May I remind you that I was also born on that same night, two minutes apart from Rose, and I have yet to have a sea serpent obey my commands and follow me around,” Oscar said.
“You weren’t claimed.” Inu said, “Rose was.”
“What does that mean?” Oscar asked.
“Where I come from, we have a similar belief.” She said, voice quieter than usual. “Ama-no-Ko. It means Child of the Heavenly. A child born beneath a haloed moon or on a still tide is said to straddle the line between human and ocean-spirit, but only ifthey are chosen. Many parents venture to the sea during these occurrences, hoping their child will be chosen, but one rarely is.”
“What makes someone chosen?” Val asked.
