I drag her to the boat and toss her over the side, muscles screaming as I climb in and lift her clear of the water. She collapses onto the planks, shaking, choking, and coughing. Her hair is plastered to her pale face. Her eyes are wild and bright.
The sea churns once more, then goes still as the Big retreats.
I drop to my knees, chest heaving. I press my hand flat against her back, feeling her heart hammer beneath my palm. Too fast. But strong.
She turns her head and looks at me.
Even soaked and shaking and terrified, she overwhelms me. Her skin gleams in the moonlight. Her mouth is parted, lips trembling, breath uneven. Her scent is ocean, fear, and something warm and unknown. It wraps around me like a rope.
“You,” she gasps. “You… came.”
Of course I did.I don’t say it. I grip her shoulders instead, firm and grounding, holding her still as the boat rocks beneath us.
“Dangerous,” I say hoarsely. “The Deep will kill you if you let it. If you go in, you are asking it to.” She may have jumped out byherself. I’ve never heard of thevelanreaching into a boat to pick someone out of it.
Her hands are still on me. She does not pull them away.
Neither do I.
For a long moment we stare at each other, the night pressing close, the ocean breathing around us. The skirr chirps softly as it hauls itself back onto the outrigger, curling up comfortably.
She is shaking now, smaller somehow, and I have a strong urge to pull her close, to shield her from everything that can harm her.
This female is sheer trouble, I realize. But she was given to me. And the Deep does not give without purpose.
I release her at last and reach for my spear, hauling it back into the boat with a wet scrape. The top blade is nicked. I will need to mend it.
She watches me with wide eyes. I think something new is flickering there beneath the fear. Interest?
Well, it’s very mutual. A woman on Xren! On the beach, and so given by the Deep, like any piece of driftwood. And what a woman she is. She was clearly brought here by the Plood in their round ship. Then she escaped from them and was given to me.
I scratch my chin. Is that how the Deep gives? She was on the beach, and that is very important. That’s where the Deep gives. But she was brought there by the Plood, who are no friends of the Deep. But they are the servants of Darkness… I shake the thought from my mind.
Oh, she’s wondrous to look at. Clearly a woman, with the double chest and the wide hips and the remarkable flatness right in the middle, where the legs meet. The breath catches in my throat. It has all been described in old stories and tales, but now that I actually see one, it’s much better than I ever dared hope.
“Surely the Deep doesn’t care where you come from,” I ponder, my voice hoarse. “As long as I found you on the beach, you’re mine.”
The small sea creature hauls itself up onto the edge of the boat and shakes once, as if offended by the water. Its skin gleams in the moonlight. It blinks at the woman, then chirps, a soft sound that comes from deep in its throat.
She stares at it. There is still fear in her eyes, but curiosity pushes through.
“What name?” she asks. Two words only, fully understandable. Her voice sounds rough, scraped thin by terror and salt.
I shrug. “It has no name.”
The creature bumps my calf with its blunt head. I scowl at it. “Go sit or get out.”
It does not go. It chirps again and presses closer to the woman instead. It stretches its neck and sniffs her arm. Then it licks her skin with a rasping tongue.
Callie startles, then chuckles. The sound slips out of her before she can stop it. Her hand rises on instinct and rests on the creature’s head.
“Plik,” she says, uncertain.
The creature chirps louder.
I huff. “If you name him, he will never leave.”
She shifts on the bench. The movement brings her knee against my thigh. I feel the heat of her even through skin and cloth. My breath turns shallow.
