“Grains of sand caught in your gill slits as they closed. Your body will push them out over time. Hot baths help,” Selah said.
“Outstanding. More water,” Yemi muttered.
“As long as we agree the ocean is not a suitable substitute for soapy bathwater,” Nova chimed in. She leaned against a wooden chest on the far wall.
“My love, I’m not a monster.”
“Just checking.” She laughed.
Cutter was hunched over a round table in the corner while she was undressed. He rolled a cigar with Muris’s iconic highland tobacco. His only vice. “Derring was here not too long ago,” he said. “Formally as envoy for Dahlia, trying to suss out if you were around.”
“Hmm. And informally?”
“Gave us the rundown on the state of things,” Nova replied. “Ixia’s divided but not animated about it. The illegitimacy of the Drakes isn’t really contested, but things aren’t going terribly, so not many are resolved to do much about it. Orie’s alive. Cooperating reluctantly. More or less waiting for us to get our plan of action together.”
“Enna?”
“Also alive, if worse for wear.” Nova paused, seeming reluctant to say what came next. “Moss survived the initial siege but wouldn’t go politely into the prisons with the other dissenters. Dorian Drake… executed him personally.”
Yemi swallowed hard. Moss. Hurand. Her people. Their deaths felt much like her own. “I’ll have his head for it,” she said. “Orie and Derring—can we count on them to continue relaying intelligence?”
“I believe so, yes,” said Cutter.
Yemi yawned her exhaustion, catching only a whiff of the smell Nova had chided her for earlier. Only Nova wasn’t close enough to remark on it this time. Selah, who was still seated on a stool beside the examination bench inspecting Yemi’s ribs, flicked her eyes upward and stared at Yemi in pointed silence for a long moment, as if she knew the odor. With her own eyes, Yemi dared her to say something about it.
“If you met with your aunt, I take it you’ve got a plan?” Selah said instead.
“I got what I needed,” Yemi replied with a lidded gaze. “Solved the fishing problem, too. Helene wasn’t exactly what I expected. Had glowing things to say about you, though. Mostly incoherent but complimentary.”
“How would they know each other?” Nova frowned.
Cutter stopped what he was doing, too. Yemi wondered if he knew. She hopped off the bench on still-wobbly legs and smoothed the tunic that had been bunched around her neck. “You can turn around, Cutter. I’m decent.”
Cutter did turn, but his gaze was fixed on Selah.
“Selah is Mer,” Yemi declared, watching a nervousness sweep over Selah’s face. “It’s the secret my grandmother was keeping for you, isn’t it? Helene intimated that you two were very close.”
Yemi watched the wheels turn behind Selah’s eyes. She was wondering how much of her story had been revealed. “What do you mean, ‘incoherent’?” She squinted.
“The Mer queen is… unstable, to put it gently,” Yemi replied. “Our conversations were very brief but difficult for her.”
“What resources was the Mer queen able to provide?” Cutter asked, still looking at Selah as if she knew the answer.
Yemi edged toward the bed that had been piled high with pelts and brocade cushions in the back of the room. “That, I’d like to get into with everyone later. I’ll rest now, and then we can discuss moving forward. Derring still here?”
“Headed back a few hours ago. They stuck around the additional day to see if we’d recover you but couldn’t delay much longer,” Cutter said.
“Radio the ship to have them return if it’s possible before they reach the Rock.”
“Luc didn’t sail. The seas have been violent this past day or two,” Cutter said.
Yemi twitched. “Violent? How?”
“Stormy. Vicious. They’re traveling by car. We can probably catch them at a checkpoint.”
Had the events she’d set in motion manifested in treacherous waters? Was Helene even capable of putting up much of a fight?
“Do that, if you would, Cutter,” she ordered. “Luc won’t be accountable to anyone there in a few days anyway.”
