Nori sighed, sharing a silent look at Olinne. The curly-haired Naiad bit back the weeping curve of her mouth. “We will care for her,” Nori said. “We will love her as if she is ours.”
The little girl gathered sticks and stones along the beach, stacking them just within the ocean’s reach, celebrating with giggles when the tide crept in and pulled her treasures away.
Her mother watched, smiling faintly. Her skin was sallow. Dark shadows rimmed her eyes. She appeared malnourished, her neck and chest a sequence of hollow dips and ridges, her arms atrophied to almost nothing.
Alana met Nori’s eyes. She pointed in the direction of the water, emphasizing a point, her eyes wide.Today, she mouthed.
“Do you need our help?” Nori asked. “Do you want it to look like an accident?”
Alana swallowed, glancing at her child.
“We’ll keep her safe, as long as she remains in Leihani,” Olinne promised. “I swear on my blood.”
Alana’s gaze snapped to hers, surprise in her eyes at the promise.
“I do as well,” Nori said. She thrust a sharp nail into her palm, and Olinne did the same. They took each other’s hands, and the three Naiads watched as a faint glow lit between their palms, the ignition of a vow written in blood.
Alana stood, her hands so tightly balled, her knuckles rang white. She inhaled through her nose, glancing between the two of them, tears running freely down her cheeks.Thank you, she mouthed.
“I’ll return with the Queen,” Olinne said. “She can summon a storm.”
The silver Naiad slipped under the tide. Nori inclined her chin toward the girl, who ran in and out of waves, hands high over her head. “The queen will summon a storm. Only if you wish us to. And not until you’re ready.”
Alana nodded, eyes rimmed with red.I’m ready, her lips soundlessly moved.
Nori let the tide carry her away as Alana approached the girl, catching her as she ran. She lifted her in the air, and they pressed their foreheads together, the child’s sandy hands curling around her mother’s hair.
A hand took Nori’s, and she glanced down at Olinne, hidden just below the surface. Queen Sidra loomed behind her, unable to completely rise out of the sea, but close enough to watch. She lifted a hand and sent the first strong wave crashing up the embankment—just loud enough to command the attention of the islanders on the docks down the shore.
Alana glanced out at the water as she pulled her daughter to her chest, eyes wide. She set off, dashing along the sea-side cliffs, back to the pathway that would lead her up the beach, her legs a blur of motion and water as she ran. Birds took to the skies, flocks rising to the air above her.
She changed direction, turning to climb the cliff instead. Sidra sent another wave, higher than the first. It knocked Alana sideways, though she quickly recovered. The toddler’s terrified screams penetrated their ears underwater. Olinne squeezed Nori’s hand, both unable to look away.
A third wave hit as the islanders crested the hill.
They stopped in their tracks, afraid of coming too close to the wild tide, but Alana’s husband raced forward. His screams split the air as he hurdled over rocks and sagging palm trees to reach his wife.
Alana didn’t see him. She cast one last glance over her shoulder to the sea, raw fear in her eyes. With one hand, she clung to the rock, arching her arm over her head, throwing the child over the lip of the cliff as a tidal wave crashed over her body. A few feet away, her husband skidded to a stop, his mouth contorted in waves of pain and disbelief.
The water fell away, and Alana was gone.
62
Maren
Nori withdrew her fingers from mine.
From the doorway, Olinne’s mouth had thinned to a straight line, her eyes bright, as though she’d revisited her own memories of Alana from years ago.
I couldn’t focus on either of them. My gaze dropped to the space between my knees, and I sat swallowing again and again, gulping away the swollen knot Nori’s memories had summoned to the back of my throat.
They waited for me in silence, watching patiently as I recovered. Of all the things I’d expected when I swam to the island waters, seeing my mother’s face for the first time and watching her die within the same minute had been last. I finally dashed my eyes, a slight tremble to my voice. “You shared your vision with me.”
“I am anOculos,” Nori replied, cocking her head as if soothing me with her words.
ButOculoseswere the eyes and ears of aVidere.She shouldn’t have been able to show me her memories—unless I was aPrizivac Vode.
Nori’s words from a few minutes before suddenly lurched forward in burning clarity.Our colony needs aPrizivac Vodeto lead it.
