She shook and shuddered with me, holding on to me so tight.
Tight enough to keep me from being washed away by my tears.
Chapter Three
*
Aslan
*
(Moon in French: Lune)
“NERI, WHAT ON EARTH—”
“It’s okay, Mum. He fell. That’s all.” The girl ripped her arms away from me and leapt nimbly to her feet. She threw me a worried look. “His family is missing.”
My heart fissured and it took everything inside me to stem my sorrow. Sucking gulps of air, I swiped angrily at my face, wiping away wetness, hissing as my damaged wrist screamed not to be used.
The girl’s mother stepped warily toward me, throwing a glance at the long bench with its sun-faded baby-blue upholstery along the wall where I’d woken and promptly tumbled off. A streak of my blood marred a white cushion, staining it, ruining it.
I had absolutely nothing to my name, and, if I was honest, I would rather be at the bottom of the sea with my mother, father, and sister—
Tears welled again; I gritted my teeth.
But I was alive.
And that meant the politeness that’d been drilled into me by my uncle who was the reason my family was dead—
I fought another crest of grief.
Fuck, I can’t do this—
An image of Melike speared through my mind.
Her innocent laughter. Her trusting eyes.
It wasn’t fair.
It’s not fucking fair!
“It’s okay.” The girl’s mother approached me warily. “You’re okay.”
That word again.
I hated that word. Despised it.
If I never heard it again it would be too soon.
Anger was good.
It dried up my misery and gave me strength.
Straightening my spine, I shoved away my shipwrecked emotions and tipped up my chin.
I had nothing and no one.
These people had saved me.
It didn’t matter I would rather they’d let me drown.
I owed them my thanks, and what had I done?
Ruined one of their cushions.
I sank into a lifetime of respect and obedience, taught with love and compassion but expected with a firm hand and harsh command. “I apologise for the stain. I’ll...I’ll replace the pillow. I’ll find a way to repay you.” I tried to stand but without two hands and two workable legs, I only succeeded in cursing with agony.
“Stop that.” The girl strode back toward me and planted her delicate hand on my suddenly sweaty shoulder. “I told you not to move. You didn’t listen to me the first time and now you’re on the floor. You better listen to me now. Otherwise, your bones will break even more.”
I shot her a look, anger flushing to be instructed by a child, but there was also something else. An odd kick in my heart that a total stranger cared enough about me to protect me, even from myself.
“Neri, let him go.” Her mother drifted closer, holding out her hand as if I was a threat to her daughter. Her sun-lightened brown hair swayed in its ponytail as she shook her head kindly. “And I don’t care about the cushion. I’m just glad you’re awake and breathing.”
I shifted the best I could, highly aware the girl called Neri hadn’t removed her hand. Her delicate fingers burned my skin.
I looked up at her looming over me.
Her crystal-blue eyes met mine.
I couldn’t suck in a breath.
Her mother looped an arm around Neri’s shoulders and pulled her firmly away from me.
Neri tripped back with her, but her gaze never left mine, fierce and bright, perceptive and clear.
Prickles broke out over my nape as I swallowed hard.
Looping her arms over Neri’s shoulders and clasping her hands over the dolphins on her daughter’s flat chest from behind, the woman said, “My name’s Anna. Anna Taylor. And you’ve already met my daughter, Nerida. My husband, Jack, is above deck. We found you amongst some wreckage—”
“It wasn’t us who found him, Mum.” Neri twisted to look up at her mother. “It was Sapphire. I told you the pod was acting strange. They came to get us and then swam so fast the boat barely kept up.”
“They were merely wanting to surf the bow wake. Like they always do.”
“No. They knew. They knew he was about to die and took us to find him.” Neri turned back to face me, her jaw set with determination and eyes glittering with belief. “We found you for a reason. I’m so sorry we couldn’t find the rest of your family, but don’t be sad. They’re with the whales now. They’re swimming and happy and free.”
A dagger pierced my chest.
Visions of my little sister trading her legs for fins brought fresh tears but also...incredibly...a little comfort.
I nodded once, even as my teeth gnashed together so hard they threatened to crack.
“What’s your name?” Neri asked, sweeping me up in her questions, once again saving me from the undercurrent of my sadness. “Where are you from? Where were you going?”
“Neri. Hush, love.” Anna shook her gently. “Give the poor guy time to breathe.” Pausing, Anna narrowed her eyes and asked a question of her own. “Do you remember what happened?”
Storm-swells and thunder.
The sting of salt.
The horror of my mother’s goodbyes.
I gritted my teeth all over again and swallowed—swallowed and swallowed so my tears couldn’t drown me. I needed to look somewhere else, anywhere else, other than at the intense little girl who never took her gaze off me.
I glanced at the circular window where sun speared.
I flinched.
The perfect blue of unending sky had been replaced with the spiers of boat masts and seagulls. The faint noise of laughter and footsteps pounding on a pier drifted in.
How long did I lose myself to grief?
I stilled and noticed the quiet and stillness for the first time.
No more sea rock.
No more drone of waves and engines fighting against one another.
The woman sucked in a breath as something banged above and a man’s voice intertwined with another in conversation.
“We’re docked at port,” she said. “We’ve already called ahead, and the hospital staff are aware you’re coming. We’ll take you and get you fixed up, alright? Once you’re tended to, then we can talk.”
I froze.
All the lessons from my father rushed back.
We were illegal.
We were supposed to slink ashore, unseen and undetected. To slip into society with silence and secrecy, doing our utmost to avoid any forms of authority or law enforcement.
We...
My heart broke.
Not anymore.
I was the illegal one.
I was the one who had to ensure I was never sent back.
Just me.
Panic overrode my sadness. “I-I’m fine.” I fought to clamber to my feet again.
I have to leave.
Now.
I went to push up, but my ankle refused, sending a thousand bolts of pain up my leg.
I cried out.
“Don’t.” The girl struggled to come to me, held fast by her mother. “Don’t move. Not until a doctor has patched you up. We have good doctors. I promise they’ll make you better. Mum. Tell him to stop moving. He’s hurt.”
The girl’s eyes welled with tears as if distraught at my pain. A boy she’d never met before but somehow felt so responsible for his well-being.