Page 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Celeste awoke to the Admiral staring down at her, wet tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Good morning,” she whispered with a sleepy smile.

The Admiral bounced up and down. Light poured over everything in the room. She wondered why Bastian had not come to knock on her door and tell her to get up as he normally did. But she guessed he had let her sleep in after the events of yesterday. Great , she thought. Growing up as a princess in the palace, everyone treated her as this fragile little thing. Being on this ship was the first time she was simply Celeste and nothing more. But apparently, after her performance the night before, that had ended.

She cracked open the door for the Admiral. He bounded out, barking to let everyone on the ship know he was coming. She got ready quickly. Today she chose black pants, a white blouse with a black corset, and boots that rose over her knees. Across her hips, she wore the belt that Torben had given her, the sword tapping at her side. He had yet to ask for it back, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t. Torben had plenty of new toys from their raid of the cargo ship to occupy himself with. Next, she braided her hair away from her face, as her sister Sephone had taught her when she was young.

The sun was not as high as she had expected, but it was clear the rest of the crew had been up for an hour or two. Their captain was nowhere to be seen. The fact came as a surprise, although she knew full well he’d be resting. It was as if she’d grown accustomed to seeing him each day, and his absence felt like taking an extra step when there wasn’t a stair.

Kiyami waved from her place at the wheel.

“Good morning, Celeste! You look well,” she said with a warm smile. Kiyami wore her long, dark hair slicked back and secured at the base of her neck. She, too, wore pants, although hers were made of black fabric with a subtle floral pattern on it. Her top was dark blue, with one side wrapped over the other and secured at her hip. It was trimmed in gray, and it, too, bore a subtle but intricate pattern. The golden hilt of her shining cutlass bobbed against her hip.

Celeste returned the wave and strode up the stairs to meet her. When they were close, she pointed toward the sword at her own hip and to Kiyami.

“Your sword and me?”

She tried again, pointing to Kiyami’s sword, then to Kiyami, and then to her own sword and herself.

“You... want us to fight?” Kiyami tried, although clearly opposed to the idea.

She shook her head. With resolute posture, Celeste wagged a finger at an invisible student, correcting some mistake.

“You want me to scold... no...” Kiyami’s face folded in on itself in confusion before understanding dawned. “Teach! Teach you! You’d like me to teach you to use a sword.”

A laugh trilled from Celeste’s lips, and she nodded.

“Of course I can teach you. Would you like to start after lunch today?”

Celeste nodded again and reached out to clasp Kiyami’s wrist. It was a gut reaction—something she was so used to doing when she thanked a mentor in her kingdom. Kiyami looked down at Celeste’s hand, eyebrows knitting together. But as Celeste pulled her hand back, Kiyami closed her own hand around Celeste’s wrist and squeezed gently. The gesture was small, but it felt like home.

* * *

“Let’s begin with footwork,” Kiyami said.

The late-afternoon sun washed the deck in a warm, golden light. Celeste shifted back and forth on her feet, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. They had quite the audience, with the crew having little better to do than watch this lesson. And of course Raiden, who had been in bed resting all day, chose this moment to get a breath of fresh air. Celeste’s lips pressed into a hard line. She knew well how the first lesson of any new training went. The idea of landing on her back in front of Raiden was nearly enough to make her call the whole thing off.

He had more color in his face than the night before, but not much. And his dark eyes hadn’t left her for the past ten minutes. Celeste hoped the others assumed the flush on her cheeks was from exertion and heat rather than embarrassment. Each day had begun to feel warmer than the last.

“It’s the southern heat,” Nasir had said at lunch.

“It’s going to be the death of me,” grunted Torben. Apparently, summers in Yenri weren’t nearly as punishing.

Celeste took a deep breath, centering herself. She let the distractions around her drift away, like water down a river. Torben’s laugh, Raiden’s gaze, and the other crew members fell away until there was nothing but Celeste and the rhythm of her breath.

“Begin with your right foot forward and left behind,” Kiyami said, demonstrating. “Try to keep your heels in line with each other. The goal is to make your body a smaller target.”

Celeste did as she was told, moving her feet so they matched Kiyami’s. Or at least she thought they had. Kiyami was quick to point out that Celeste’s feet didn’t point in the right way. Or her legs weren’t far enough apart. Or her weight was too much on one foot or the other. Kiyami made corrections bluntly. Her sharp eyes saw every mistake. When Celeste’s foot turned out again, Kiyami kicked it back into place with her toe. If Celeste hadn’t already been blushing, she was now. Of course sword work began with the feet . The one thing Celeste had no training in. Although she was used to walking by now, she still tripped often.

“Bend your knees.”

Knees ... Celeste’s heart dropped. She knew this word. She knew it. Nerissa had told her where they were the day she got them. And yet every time she got close to remembering, it would slip through her fingers like water.

Mercifully, Kiyami didn’t wait long. She gently tapped the back of Celeste’s leg with the tip of her boot, and the leg bent. Ugh, of course , Celeste thought. The knees are the bendy part. Which was why she said “bend.”

“Now advance.”

The girls drilled each step again and again, until sweat dripped down Celeste’s face, and her thighs burned. Her legs were not yet as strong as her upper body. But her stamina was still quite high, so they were able to continue for a couple of hours. In time, Celeste began building better awareness of her legs. She noticed which direction her feet pointed, where her weight was held. Soon she stepped backward and forward in tandem with Kiyami. It became like a dance. They drilled forward movement, backward movement, and even began turning before Kiyami stopped them.

“You’re a quick study!” she said, grinning.

It was a joy to watch Kiyami work. She was a natural teacher, and Celeste was grateful for how patient she was. Celeste did her best to communicate as much, but the miming fell short. Still, Kiyami gathered the gist.

“I taught my siblings how to fight,” she said proudly, and laughed. “There’s five of them, so I’ve had a lot of practice.” Something crossed over her face as she spoke of them. It was a look that Celeste could relate to all too well. Homesickness. “Let’s end things here for today. Tomorrow we will review today’s movements and begin attacks and parries.”

* * *

Inexplicably, it was Celeste’s turn to wash dishes. Again. Raiden hadn’t come to dinner, choosing instead to stay in bed. Kiyami, who had done dishes several times already, had returned to man the wheel. And Torben and Bastian were, as usual, missing once the meal had concluded. Nasir insisted he’d hunt them down, but Celeste waved his offer away. So the two cleaned the table together and set about their chores, using the usual small ration of water and whale soap to wash the remnants of food from each plate.

The two worked in silence, side by side. Nasir cleaned the dishes, and Celeste dried them with a towel and put them away. It was a comfortable routine. Nasir was not much for conversation, which made things easy for Celeste. But when he did speak, he enjoyed getting to know the others. So it didn’t come entirely as a surprise when he introduced a topic of conversation.

“You have a family back home?”

Celeste nodded and held up five fingers.

“Ah... five of you? This includes parents and yourself?”

She nodded again.

“I always wanted siblings.”

Celeste looked up from her work and tilted her head, listening.

“My parents died when I was a young man.” He kept his eyes on his work. “We were staying in Port Warren at the time, when my baba passed. We moved there for me to attend school to be a doctor, like him. But we couldn’t afford for me to finish after he went.”

He finished cleaning a dish and handed it to Celeste. It felt as though she were intruding, even though he was speaking to her directly.

“My muta died soon after... so I traveled around looking for work. Not many in Ethoria would hire a Sumredan boy who hadn’t finished his schooling.”

Celeste finished drying and gently placed the plate with the others. She glanced up at Nasir’s face. He looked back at her. There was no sadness there, only a straightforward openness. This happened to him long ago. It was a part of him, but it didn’t hurt him to share it.

“I traveled around and picked up odd jobs. I was good in the kitchen. My muta taught me everything she knew. Eventually, I found my way to the Broken Compass, and that’s where I met Torben.” A private smile Celeste had seen many times pulled at the corner of his lips. A smile only for Torben.

“Most of the time, I find life doesn’t go the way you want it to,” Nasir said, his dark brown eyes creasing at the corners. “But most of the time, things turn out the way they should.”

Celeste let his words settle within her. After so many days set adrift, she wasn’t sure she’d ever find solid ground again.

Nasir turned his face back to his work. “Can you hand me the vanilla? The bottle’s sticky, and I want to clean it. It’s in the cupboard.”

She nodded and went to the cupboard, retrieving a sticky bottle. The cook took one glance at the bottle and frowned.

“That’s olive oil, dear,” he said, taking the bottle from her hands. She flushed red as he set down his things to go retrieve the vanilla himself. When he returned, he fixed her with an unreadable expression. “Do you not know how to read?”

She lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve always disliked the fact most women aren’t allowed an education.” He set the bottle down on the table. “Would you like to learn? It might make communicating easier.”

Celeste’s eyes grew wide. She could actually learn to read ? To write ? Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of how she could finally have conversations with her crewmates.

She nodded and pointed to the floor.

“You’d like to start now?”

Celeste nodded again, and he laughed.

* * *

The first writing lesson went as well as expected. Nasir sat down with Celeste in the empty dining room, the lantern above lighting the table before them. He provided two quills and parchment. Celeste couldn’t help running her hands all over them, enjoying the way the feather tickled her fingers and how soft the parchment felt. First, they went over the numbers and letters of the common language. The quill felt awkward in her hand, much the same way a fork had the first time she used one. He wrote them one at a time, and she mimicked them. But while his numbers and letters were neat and straight, hers were blotchy and crooked. Some were so awful it looked as though a squid had projected its ink onto the page.

Nasir was an encouraging, if quiet, teacher. He was straightforward and would gently correct her when she made an error. They practiced for the better part of an hour, and even tried a few simple words before they moved on to reading. But because Celeste didn’t speak, this provided a challenge.

“I know there is a language of hands, but I’m afraid I don’t know it,” Nasir confessed. “I was taught to read by sounding out the words and letters. Perhaps we’ll try association?”

And so Nasir carefully wrote out the letters and read them all aloud to Celeste so she could hear how they sounded. Then he carefully wrote out words of things that were in the room: Chair and light , table and book , you and I . He slowly sounded out each word a few times, then ripped the parchment with each word and shuffled them around. Celeste picked up a word, tried to read it, and pointed to where it was in the room. The process worked well enough, and eventually she memorized what the words looked like.

The two practiced for another hour, until Celeste let out a yawn.

“Keep those and practice. We can continue tomorrow.”

She nodded, eyes drooping, and gathered the parchment, quill, and ink from the table. As she stood, she could feel her muscles protest with each movement. It had been a long time since she had felt this sore and mentally drained, but she also felt satisfied. She waved goodbye to Nasir and began her stiff journey toward her room. Each step was awkward, and she almost laughed at herself. It took her cycles to learn to understand the human language and to fight. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be on the Red Revenge , but she doubted it would be long enough for her to become proficient with the sword, reading, and writing. Still, how could she not use this opportunity for as long as she had it?

“Why are we doing this?” Bastian’s voice echoed around the corner. Something in his hushed tone made her stop.

“You know why.” Raiden’s voice was hard and pointed, like the steel of a blade. “The king asked me to retrieve it. We do this, and we’re back in his good graces.”

“But we’re leading this crew into the same waters where we were last attacked.” It sounded like an old argument, the words worn and practiced.

“What happened then will not happen again.”

“What did happen, Rai?” They were moving down the hall in her direction. Celeste took a step back.

Raiden sighed. “ I told you —we were attacked by a passing ship. You fell overboard, I dove to save you, and the ship went down. We were adrift until Celeste found us and rowed us to shore.”

“And I told you I know when you’re lying,” Bastian hissed. “Why would a girl be in the middle of the ocean in a rowboat? Why didn’t a single crew member survive?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember everything. And we can’t exactly ask her, can we?”

Their footsteps stopped. “You’re keeping something from me. Something to do with her.”

A silence descended. The silence that came between lightning and thunder.

“At least tell me what it is he wants. What’s out there? Where exactly are we going?”

Celeste pressed herself into the wall, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it. What she had been waiting for.

“Lunapesce,” Raiden said, like the roll of thunder.

Lunapesce . Celeste’s breath hitched. The sacred island of the Goddess of Moon and Sea. She slipped back to hide in the galley, waiting for them to pass before returning to her room. As she did, Celeste searched her memories for what she knew of Lunapesce, which was very little. Treasure and power beyond imagination awaited those who could find the mythical island, which only appeared during a solar eclipse, when the moon and sun met in the sky.

How could this human possibly believe he knew where to find it, when it had been lost to sirens for generations? There wasn’t a siren alive who believed the place was real . And humans didn’t believe in the Goddess. From what Celeste was taught, humans believed in the God of Sun and Land, their creator, but saw him as the only god. They did not recognize the duality of God and Goddess as the sirens did.

But at least she now knew why the humans had been near Staria, what they were searching for.

Which meant the time had come to kill Raiden and go home.