They shift uncomfortably, scuffing the toe of their boot against the decking. ‘My grandmother.’
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ‘Was she a sailor?’
Isagani shakes their head. ‘Not quite. Fisherfolk on the Summer Isle. Lassairian hitches were better for nets, she said.’
‘A noble enterprise, fishing.’
‘It was, until the waters got poisoned.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It happened slowly, the coral reefs dying, species of smaller fish disappearing. We barely had enough to feed ourselves, never mind pay the royals’ tithe. That’s when the Bastion took notice.’
This is the most words Isagani has ever strung together, and I find myself holding my breath, afraid to break the spell.
‘Blamed my grandmother, insisted she pay her debt. I knew they’d come for me after she passed. Debts don’t die with you apparently.’
‘So you ran,’ I whisper, placing a hand over theirs.
They flinch, then look up at me, pouting proudly. ‘What would you have done?’
‘The exact same thing,’ I say softly. ‘You looked out for yourself. And you’re not the only one.’
‘It was never the right time, she said, to leave Paranish. Our family lived there for generations; she wouldn’t abandon our home. For all the good that loyalty did her.’
‘She’d be proud of you, kid. And I’ll make good on her wish. I’ll take you to a fresh start, if we survive this.’
Silence covers us like a blanket. We watch the gentle movement of the waves and listen to the slop of the water hitting the bow.
Slowly the fish enter the net, the stillness making it invisible to them.
‘Now?’ Isagani asks.
‘Wait until it’s the right time,’ I insist.
Others gather, thinking it must be safe for how many fish are there, chomping on the hull’s algae.
‘Pull!’
We tug at the net, and the weights move upwards, tightening the net around the fish. They flip-flop as we haul them onto the deck, gasping for air until they are still.
‘It worked!’ Isagani yells, delighted. ‘Should I take these to Ris?’
I examine the fish, making sure they’re all dead. There’s a surprising variety of species here, including deepwater luminous roughy, tiny dragonfish with deadly teeth, and translucent glass squid shaped more like a bird than a marine creature.
‘You’ve done well, Isagani. I’ll take it from here.’
I haul the net across the deck and down to the galley, slapping it down on the floor triumphantly. ‘Look what Isagani reeled in.’
Ris turns her attention from the counter, where she’s reorganising the food for the store cupboard. At first she seems surprised by the strange marine creatures, and then she smiles.
‘We’ll have pickled fish for days,’ she says, pointing to the myriad jars on the counter.
‘Could make a nice fish stew or a pie or a... grilled... there’s plenty of other things you can make with fish.’
‘That’s true,’ she considers, tapping her finger on her lips. ‘But let’s just say your menu is a tad... repetitive.’
‘At least it’s not mouldy porridge.’
