ignore and see one of the crew members fly overboard, his spear not pulling free of the rakam in time. Before anyone can react, he is devoured by the great beasts, their long sharp mouths crunching into bone and flesh, making a quick meal out of the big man until his screams are only echoes in the sea, lost forever to his goddess.
I don't let that break my concentration. If the tide doesn't turn in our favor soon, I will have to reveal myself, and all my efforts, all my planning, will be for naught.
But none of that will matter if I am dead.
I am close to revealing myself, but I do not. I throw my spear, again and again. Then a young boy of no more than sixteen years stumbles into the water, and the rakam impale him in the gut, spilling his intestines into the murky water even as he still lives.
His suffering does not end until they tear the limbs from his body. He then falls silent, sinking into the Deep Mother's embrace at last as the rakam feed on his remains.
I break. I need to rush back to my room, back to the box within my chest. As more of the crew fall to their death, as the kiasheen is torn apart, piece by piece, floating into the dark waters, as the storm hits us harder, as if the heavens themselves are in collusion with the rakam… I cannot let more die.
But before I can move, before I can act on my new plan, another ship enters my line of sight. Their kiasheen is enormous, at least three times bigger than ours. The night sky lights up with brightly lit torches as spears shoot out from their whale-ship, impaling the remaining rakam and leaving the sea suddenly silent save for the low moaning of the still-injured kiasheen we ride atop.
Calla is already mustering a crew to administer healing to the kiasheen as the other whale-ship approaches closer. They show the flags of the Great House of Ruu—a red volcano framed by a white, cloudless sky—marking them as one of the three Great Families of the Shattered Islands. My heart trips over itself when I see those flags, and I peer into their great shell, trying to identify their leader, to see if I recognize him. Or more importantly, to see if he will recognize me.
4
HOUSE OF RUU
There is a pause in the flurry of movement as Captain Kanen assesses our new allies.
"Permission to come aboard!" A voice calls from the larger whale-ship.
The captain looks around, seeing the injury and toll this attack has taken on his crew. Those not killed were injured or exhausted in a fight that felt hours but lasted no more than minutes.
"We have supplies we will gladly share!" The voice calls again.
"Permission granted," the captain shouts back, gesturing with a nod of his head for a member of his crew, who scrambles to untie the kelp that holds the bridged shell up.
As the bridge falls to the side of the ship, the other boat latches itself to us and stabilizes in the water, and three members of its crew walk across the shelled planks to greet our captain.
The man in the lead is tall with strong streaks of blue in his hair, nails and eyes. His eyes are sharp as he takes in the state of our ship. "I am Han'Ruu, of the Great Family, captain of this ship. We were traveling to a nearby port for trade when we heard the cries of your kiasheen."
He looks around, noting the injuries, the blood splashing against the great shell. "We have supplies, food, healers. We are happy to help if you'd like to take sanctuary on our ship while you make repairs and heal your kiasheen."
Captain Kanen nods a head. "Yer generosity and the generosity of yer great family will be remembered," he says.
It doesn't take long to move most of the crew to the larger whale-ship, while the healthiest members of the crew stay behind to make repairs. Han'Ruu sends his own men and women to help.
I stay to the side, observing, noticing. When Han'Ruu's eyes land on mine, I nod as a submissive to a greater house, and he acknowledges, giving a half nod. "You do not look like crew," he
I don't let that break my concentration. If the tide doesn't turn in our favor soon, I will have to reveal myself, and all my efforts, all my planning, will be for naught.
But none of that will matter if I am dead.
I am close to revealing myself, but I do not. I throw my spear, again and again. Then a young boy of no more than sixteen years stumbles into the water, and the rakam impale him in the gut, spilling his intestines into the murky water even as he still lives.
His suffering does not end until they tear the limbs from his body. He then falls silent, sinking into the Deep Mother's embrace at last as the rakam feed on his remains.
I break. I need to rush back to my room, back to the box within my chest. As more of the crew fall to their death, as the kiasheen is torn apart, piece by piece, floating into the dark waters, as the storm hits us harder, as if the heavens themselves are in collusion with the rakam… I cannot let more die.
But before I can move, before I can act on my new plan, another ship enters my line of sight. Their kiasheen is enormous, at least three times bigger than ours. The night sky lights up with brightly lit torches as spears shoot out from their whale-ship, impaling the remaining rakam and leaving the sea suddenly silent save for the low moaning of the still-injured kiasheen we ride atop.
Calla is already mustering a crew to administer healing to the kiasheen as the other whale-ship approaches closer. They show the flags of the Great House of Ruu—a red volcano framed by a white, cloudless sky—marking them as one of the three Great Families of the Shattered Islands. My heart trips over itself when I see those flags, and I peer into their great shell, trying to identify their leader, to see if I recognize him. Or more importantly, to see if he will recognize me.
4
HOUSE OF RUU
There is a pause in the flurry of movement as Captain Kanen assesses our new allies.
"Permission to come aboard!" A voice calls from the larger whale-ship.
The captain looks around, seeing the injury and toll this attack has taken on his crew. Those not killed were injured or exhausted in a fight that felt hours but lasted no more than minutes.
"We have supplies we will gladly share!" The voice calls again.
"Permission granted," the captain shouts back, gesturing with a nod of his head for a member of his crew, who scrambles to untie the kelp that holds the bridged shell up.
As the bridge falls to the side of the ship, the other boat latches itself to us and stabilizes in the water, and three members of its crew walk across the shelled planks to greet our captain.
The man in the lead is tall with strong streaks of blue in his hair, nails and eyes. His eyes are sharp as he takes in the state of our ship. "I am Han'Ruu, of the Great Family, captain of this ship. We were traveling to a nearby port for trade when we heard the cries of your kiasheen."
He looks around, noting the injuries, the blood splashing against the great shell. "We have supplies, food, healers. We are happy to help if you'd like to take sanctuary on our ship while you make repairs and heal your kiasheen."
Captain Kanen nods a head. "Yer generosity and the generosity of yer great family will be remembered," he says.
It doesn't take long to move most of the crew to the larger whale-ship, while the healthiest members of the crew stay behind to make repairs. Han'Ruu sends his own men and women to help.
I stay to the side, observing, noticing. When Han'Ruu's eyes land on mine, I nod as a submissive to a greater house, and he acknowledges, giving a half nod. "You do not look like crew," he
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