I followed him deeper so we could pass it at a distance.
The whale drifted over us slowly, the current pulsing with every beat of his tail. I frowned, noticing an irregular rhythm.
“Spio, feel that?”
“What about it?”
“The way he’s moving. His stroke is all off. I think he’s hurt.”
Spio followed my gaze into the distance, where the whale laboured along out of sight.
After a moment, he said, “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
My insides melted a little. “Can we help him?”
“Uh …”
“Please?”
Part of him must have wanted to, because he didn’t immediately say no.
I started in that direction.
“Fine,” he said, “but if he gets all crazy and stuff, we’ll have to turn tail.”
It took us a few minutes to get to the whale, an adult orca. It was easy to see what was wrong. His entire body was wrapped in an enormous fishing net, white buoys hanging off him from nose to tail.
His dorsal fin was as tall as me, his overwhelming size rendering me light-headed. But he was thin, listless. He eyed us as we approached, and we stopped.
“Will he attack?” I said.
“I don’t know,” said Spio.
I followed for a moment. The orca’s attention stayed on me, its aura blanketing the current, not unlike those I felt in merpeople. Spio hung back.
“You really should be careful, buddy. Orcas aren’t exactly friendly to merpeople.”
“Believe me, I’ve had plenty of bad experiences with them.”
The nightmare of the Massacre was still fresh in my memory, when Adaro’s army had used orcas to try and capsize our ship.
I swam alongside the animal at eye level, ready to zip away if his mood changed. His flesh was puckered near his face where the ropes cut deeply. My heart ached to see it.
“All right, boy,” I said in my most soothing tone. “I’m going to help you.”
The orca looked right at me. The small, black eye was so expressive it was as though he was trying to communicate with me. When I focused on his aura, I felt pain and resignation.
“Pass me that blade of yours, Spio.”
My tone was so final that he didn’t argue.
Spio moved closer to pass me the blade, and the whale tensed. Its eye shifted back.
“Stop,” I said quickly.
Spio obeyed, but the whale didn’t relax.
“Back up.”
