Fool, fool.I slap my face hard, trying to stay awake. I look again.Those are not statues – you know what they truly are. Look again. See your predecessors. The ones who forged the trail. Who disappeared in pursuit of their heart’s desire.Thieves. Liars. Desperate outcasts. They were once like you. Everything dies. But to die like this, preserved in that final moment, looking upon your beast, your hope, your treasure. To have your voice ripped from your throat, stolen to lure in the next victims.
I look back at Biba. That pale sheen, as if covered in clay, which might crack at any moment. She’s becoming like them, turning to stone slowly. She looks dreamy, as if in a reverie, her eyelids and limbs heavy.
‘Fin, what are you doing? Get back!’ Isagani yells at me, hiding behind one of the stone victims.
Adarna rises up, beating its wings. The nest is disturbed, feathers and bone and dust in a whirlwind. Biba covers her eyes. I put my head to the cavern floor. Adarna shrieks, the song intensifying in my head. The creature is at its full height now, blocking the shards of light that filter through from the roof of the cave. I dare to look. Its eyes are wild and frenzied as they meet mine, its voice penetrating my brain. It’s an unholy medley of human voices, a mass of prey. I bash the side of my skull with my hand, trying to shake it off. It’s like trying to fight the waves. It’s pulling myself out of a mudslide. All I want to do is succumb. My limbs are stiffening, unyielding despite the force pulling me closer, closer. I move awkwardly and then I’m on my knees. My hand tries for my dagger. Of course it’s gone, long ago. With the wreck ofSaltsweptand all our worldly possessions. At least I have my body. I try to raise my arms, to prepare my hands for fists. The fingers curl reluctantly, and I wonder if I can hear the bones crack.
Sinigang hisses close to my ear, and I feel the otter-cat sink his claws into my arm. I scream, and the pain is a welcome reminder that I’m still made of flesh, not quite yet dead. Adarna’s spell is weakened for a moment, and I feel in control of myself.
‘Don’t listen to it, Fin,’ Sinigang says, dragging me behind one of the statues. ‘The others are close, I can smell them. We have to hold on.’
Fin, where did you go?
I can’t resist snatching a glance at Biba, but she’s falling asleep again, swaying with the rhythm of the song. The voice is coming from the bird, and it splits straight into my skull.
Look at me!
The voice isn’t Biba’s now but Larkin’s. His voice is thick, crying out for me.
Fin! Please, help me!
I close my eyes and dig my palms into the stone of the statue, willing the voice to disappear. How does Adarna know what he said?
It’s like I feel the salt spray on me again, but it’s a cold sweat on my neck and back. My stomach roils as if remembering him falling overboard, the desperate clawing at the rope. The rest of the crew acted more quickly than I did. I was frozen in shock until the protocol set in: turn the boat and slowly approach. I went as close as we could, anchoring into nothing as the Maelstrom tried to pull us into its orbit. He had the rope, I could see the relief on his face. And then he was gone, and we were hauling in empty.
‘Captain, what should we do?’ one of the other crew members asked, eyes wild with fear.
We were reaching the abort point, and everything in my body rebelled from the eye of the Maelstrom.
‘He’s gone, man. We’re changing course!’
My priority had to be getting out of there. The ship was already beginning to be ripped apart by the wind. We needed to get downwind. Anything to escape the vortex before us.
You let me die. You took everything from me, but you can never replace me. She would never choose you.
The piercing voice of Adarna mocking Larkin comes back afresh, crushing my skull like a vice. I feel sick to my stomach, the remembrance of Ris’s touch on my skin. The earthy smell ofher against me, the feel of her fingers in my hair. Her laugh, low and warm.
You can’t make me hate myself any more, I tell Adarna. I focus on the thought, like a prayer. I think of everyone I’ve ever hurt and let the guilt and shame get swept away by the current. I keep my eyes closed and reach out for Isagani, and they grip my hand. Sinigang is in my lap, saying something. But all I feel is the warmth of him. I hold on to the heat of them, forcing my breathing to slow, flexing my muscles to remind myself that my body is still mine.
chapter fifty-eight
ris
I crawl out intoan open cavern, and it’s like I know what breathing feels like again. The light filters through here, illuminating a huge nest in the centre of the cave. A massive bird sits on the mound of rags and bones, spreading its colourful wings. The feathers catch the light from an opening in the cavern vault, dancing and making me dizzy. It has the bulk and heft of a bird of prey, and its large curved beak is stained with old blood. By its talons in the middle of the nest is Biba, so small and sound asleep.
‘Ris, where are you?’ Hanan says in a panic as she emerges from the crevice.
‘I told you they were close,’ comes Sinigang’s melted-butter voice, and I see him detach himself from the darkness. ‘Get behind this.’
‘That thing has Biba!’ I whisper through gritted teeth.
‘We’re going to get her, I promise,’ Finlyr insists, emerging from behind a rocky pillar.
‘I thought you were gone,’ Isagani cries.
I pull them close until I think we might all meld together.
Finlyr smells of sweat, salt water, and fear. I reach for his hand but it’s cold and stiff, and I see tiny teeth marks on his arms. ‘What happened?’
