Page 50 of Moist!

chapter five

SERAFINA

I wake to tepid waters and a quiet Cantis.

“Are we still on the path?”

“There’s a hurricane,” she responds, her eyebrows locked in a deep furrow.

Nausea threatens to overtake me. The water layers, mixed by the hurricane, can suffocate even magical beings like us.

“We can’t go around it?” I try not to let my voice shake.

“I’ll keep you safe.” Cantis squeezes my arm wrapped around her. It’s a short response, not even the answer to my question, but I believe her. I trust her.

It isn’t long before we are tugged into the push and pull of the hurricane.

The sound of it burns my eardrums, and it’s hard to catch my breath.

Cantis uses the currents to push past the roughest edges of it and get us safely to the eye of the storm.

There are other beings swimming so we move lower to cooler water.

Once there, she turns in my arms to face me.

“Are you okay? Anything hurt?” She pats my bald head, shoulders, and waist. I might’ve laughed if we weren’t in such a serious predicament.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Good.” She kisses my cheek and little sparks prickle down my arms. “Stay here.” With that, she swims back out into the fray.

Cantis is invisible in seconds, the tumultuous waters disorienting me instantly.

It takes me a moment to pick my jaw up and I try to tell myself she knows what she’s doing.

I turn my attention above to the fish I’m sharing space with.

Yellow tang, queen angelfish, boops, and threadfin seemingly move as one with the storm’s eye.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

No one answers and, whether for fear of mermaids or lack of sound distribution in the storm, I settle in to wait for Cantis to return.

Thankfully it’s not long before I see her again, a barracuda in tow. She takes them a little lower in the eye and, by her pointing from them to the smaller fish above, I assume she’s telling them that they are not allowed to eat the other fish sheltering here. When she’s done, I call up to her.

“There’s space for you here, Cantis,” I motion to the empty space next to me. She gives me a quick nod, but moves toward other animals instead, speaking with one group before moving to another, then she’s gone again.

I watch Cantis swim in and out of the eye, each time coming back with three or four creatures, and I can’t help but get increasingly nervous. I mean, I know it’s a little selfish, but she’s my ride. And if I’m honest, I kinda like her grumpy attitude.

I’m inclined to see if I can fuck it out of her.

So, either way, I want Cantis in here, safe, with me.

Cantis’s last venture out into the storm seems to take the longest. She’s been calm but hurried every other time, but when she finally breaks through to the eye this last time, she looks utterly distraught.

A few words are spoken to another fish family before she travels down to the bottom of the eye with me. She’s silent, and doesn’t even look at me .

It doesn’t take long to put the pieces together. She meant to bring someone back and was unsuccessful. She needs a moment.

I don’t know Cantis well enough to know what she might need to hear, but I can hold her hand.

Her fingers fit well against mine, my nails resting softly against her webbing.

We stay like that, keeping within the eye as it moves until the hurricane finally hits land, freeing us and the other sea creatures.

With the raging storm traveling further inland, I get my first look at our surroundings.

We’re not too far off course, but I'm realizing the hurricane wasn't so unavoidable after all. This whole time I thought Cantis was just being a good samaritan, but I suspect there’s more to this prickly pear than that.