‘There must be another way, other vessels,’ I insist.
The young man laughs bitterly. ‘No chance unless you got anything worth parting with.’
I bare my teeth and try to shake off the wallowing and wailing. It’s then I spot a familiar gait, peeling off from the crowd.
‘Isagani?’ I call.
They turn and by Paranish, I can’t believe it.
‘Holy Aistra,’ they shout, running through the crowd to meet me.
‘Are you all right?’ I ask, examining them. Isagani’s face and hair is covered in ash and dust, save two tear streaks down their cheeks.
‘I’m fine,’ they say, shaking me off.
‘Where are the others?’
Isagani turns to the sea, pointing to the ferry, just visible on the horizon.
‘What do you mean? What happened?’
Isagani begins to cry, burying their face in my chest. ‘She left me. Ris left me.’
I squeeze them harder, trying to process what they’re saying. Ris adores them as fiercely as I do. Why would she leave them? As I shield Isagani, I understand what kind of ugly desperation seeps out of us during tragedy.
‘I’ve got you, kid. I won’t let go, I promise.’
Insects swarming – that’s how it feels trying to push through Umasa. The ferries have left port; everyone is restless and terrified. I can’t blame them. The dock is useless to us, and we head back towards Umasa town square, ducking and weaving through the throng. Paranish, they’re good at being a shadow. Thunder roars in the distance.
‘Storm’s coming,’ Isagani says, watching the sky darken.
I narrow my eyes and watch the overcast sky. Smoke and embers mix with clouds of stone and ash. ‘This feels strange. We should get inside.’
Isagani leads us down winding, dingy closes, and we crawl and scuttle down stairways and through alleys to reach Narra’s inn. We can’t think of anywhere else to go. It’s the closest thing that feels like home.
I bang on the door of the inn until my knuckles are bloody. Eventually a large brown eye appears at the peephole.
‘Narra? Oh, thank Aistra. Please, you have to help us.’
‘Look what the otter-cat dragged in.’ Her voice is wary, and the eye roves over us both. ‘Speaking of, where is Sinigang?’
‘I don’t know, I’m sorry, Narra. We all got separated,’ Isagani says.
‘Let us in, I beg you,’ I insist. ‘You can check we mean no harm.’
Eventually the door opens a crack, and I could cry. We squeeze through and it’s barred tight against the outside world.
‘What manner of chaos have you brought down on us?’ Narra asks, patting us down. Her fingers crackle with a spark, and my skin tingles as she searches. She grunts in reluctant assent. ‘You’re both clean of mischief. But grief lies heavy on your shoulders.’
‘Are the others here?’ I ask hopefully.
Ligaya and Morna appear in the hallway. Their faces are blanched, and they clutch each other as if the fate of the world depended on the touch. I try to disguise my disappointment that Ris, Hanan, and the others aren’t here.
‘A nip of palm wine and a stew is what’s needed.’ Ligaya smiles weakly.
It’s eerily quiet in here, the chaos of the town distant outside.
‘Where are the guests?’ I ask.
