Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) (29 page)

“Of course not. But that’s … that’s different.”

I felt my lip curl into a snarl. When I spoke, my voice quivered. “You don’t understand in the slightest.”

Annith’s eyes narrowed. I felt Tanuu and Blacktail’s stares. Tanuu’s brow was pinched—but Blacktail’s mouth formed a silent, “Oh.”

She had seen Lysi aboard the Bloodhound last month.

Something like panic seized my chest. My throat tightened until I felt like air couldn’t pass through. Why did I have to mention Rik? Did I just blurt my feelings for Lysi to all three of them?

The thrush picked up his song again, mockingly cheerful.

I turned away so the others wouldn’t see my eyes spring with tears, and continued through the grass.

“Take Annith home,” I said. “Get her dry.”

I crossed the field. The opposite end turned out to be a steep hill that descended into town. Closest to us was the back of the grocery store, which faced a paved lot. The other businesses there had closed indefinitely. I saw Blue Kestrel Bistro, the post office, bank, gift shop, bakery, and Windy Spit Pub. Even the gas station had closed after running dry. We had nothing left. Would the grocery store last? Could my people survive on the land alone, with no fish and so much of the wild game hunted out?

Footsteps swished in an awkward rhythm through the grass behind me. I turned to see Tanuu and Blacktail holding Annith between them.

“Take her down there and use a phone,” I said, and then added stubbornly, “I’m going to keep looking.”

They didn’t argue. I turned away as they began a slow, laboured descent.

I trudged around the meadow, trying to find more Ravendust bushes, perhaps leading away from the town. When none crossed my path, I stopped, winding my fingers through my hair in frustration.

The bushes must have continued right through where the town now sat. I considered going around and picking up my search on the other side of the lot, but even the thought was exhausting. What if the bushes had been dug up in so many places that the path was no longer distinguishable?

A nagging voice in my head suggested there was no path to begin with, and Tanuu was right. The only remarkable thing about these plants was their ability to blacken your skin and clothes if you brushed against the leaves.

Daring to check over the hill, I confirmed that the others had gone.

I didn’t need them. If they thought this wasn’t important, then they were holding me back.

The thrush sang relentlessly, calling for a friend that wasn’t there. I whistled back. The bird hesitated, probably wondering whether he wanted to sing to a mate who was so off-key. After a pause, he replied.

“Just you and me,” I said.

Eriana came to mind, and how she’d died after a lifetime protecting the flora and fauna of this island. I wouldn’t let her down.

I returned to the pit trap. Maybe I wasn’t justified in thinking whoever dug the pit deserved a kick in the head. They’d been trying to get food. They wouldn’t know a few unsuspecting teenagers would stumble on it—or in it.

Still, it angered me that they’d left it abandoned. What if we’d been kids playing in the woods? We were lucky we’d been able to pull Annith out right away.

I squatted next to it. The muddy water left me unable to see the bottom, but based on how Annith had landed, the pit was deep. This hunter had been after a deer, perhaps a bear. The thatched branches on top must have been disturbed enough that animals knew this patch of land was suspicious. Annith probably hadn’t been watching her step when she’d fallen in.

Not for the first time, I decided animals were a lot smarter than people.

Broken branches and moss hung from the sides, half submerged. Behind them, rocks peeked through.

Frowning, I moved a few branches out of the way. The pit was lined with stones, stacked uniformly all the way around, creating a rectangular hole in the ground. This trap wasn’t some random crater a desperate hunter made. Someone had put a lot of time and effort into it—and from the weathered appearance of the stones, with roots and weeds pushing through the cracks, they’d done so a long time ago.

An irregular stone caught my eye. I sat on the edge of the pit and leaned down, squinting at it. The stone had an engraving. A fanged animal head, jaws parted, with a long, narrow eye.

I yanked the bone dagger from my jeans.

There it was. The same head had been etched into the dagger we’d found beneath the Enticer. What did it mean? What was their connection?

I flipped it over to examine the other engravings. Once again, I felt that strange sense of familiarity. I rubbed my fingers over the trees on either side of the hole.

A long moment passed before I lifted my eyes, not feeling any surge of enlightenment. The world had darkened a little. The sun was setting.

For good measure, I stretched my leg into the pit and kicked at the stone with the engraving. It didn’t move. Neither did the ones surrounding it. I leaned in to test all the stones I could reach. They were all wedged securely in the earth, roots and weeds sprouting between them.

“Not hiding any secrets?”

The thrush whistled.

I considered jumping down to poke around inside, but the idea was unappealing. Fat raindrops created rings in the water, now littered with decaying plant life. A cool breeze had picked up. Besides, the stone walls were built so precisely that I’d never be able to climb them to get back out. I’d need a rope.

Legs still dangling into the pit, I looked over my shoulder, grasping for ideas. Maybe we hadn’t exhausted the trail of Ravendust bushes. Did the path fork somewhere? I could backtrack to the last few bushes and make a wide circle around each one. Maybe I’d find a whole new path to follow.

My feet and legs were throbbing from walking all day. I turned back to the pit, glancing between the stone and the dagger in my hand. This serpent head had to mean something.

Struck with inspiration, I stood.

Adette had mentioned a snake on Dani’s wrist. What if it was the same one? Would Dani have explained the meaning of the symbol to any of the trainees?

It was a start, and a fresh one after spending all day going in circles.

We’d trekked a good deal across the island, so it took more than an hour to get back to the road—plenty of time to brood over being abandoned by my friends. I was stupid to let even a tiny part of me hope Tanuu and Blacktail would come back.

So much for Tanuu’s undying support for the mission.

I reminded myself that I had just dumped him, and he’d had a crush on me since we were in kindergarten. He had every right to be miserable.

Maybe this was my fault for choosing today to dump him. But what was I supposed to do? Fake it until we were done with all of this and I didn’t need his help anymore? No, I’d done the right thing. Every day I let him think we were fine, I was lying to him.

So if I’d done the right thing, why did I feel so guilty?

Relationships suck
, I thought.

When I finally made it to Anyo’s, I pounded on the door a little too vigorously.

Nobody answered, but a light shone through the window. I pounded again.

“Adette,” I shouted. “I need to talk to you.”

A long minute later, the door opened. Adette still wore her training clothes. Her eyelids looked heavy, her face clammy and pale.

“I’m sorry, I just have a question,” I said.

She waited for me to continue with one hand on the door, not inviting me inside.

“Everything all right?” I said.

She lifted a shoulder, still not saying anything. The house was dead quiet.

I tried to peer around her. “Can I come in?”

Adette seemed to have a momentary, inward struggle. Then she stood aside and let me in.

The house felt like a roaring fireplace. I couldn’t tell if I was just cold from being outside all day, or if they kept it abnormally warm.

“Where’s your father?”

“Sleeping.”

The weakness in her voice added to her air of exhaustion. I glanced around the empty kitchen. The clock showed just past 9:30. I decided to keep this short in case she wanted to go to bed.

“Adette, I need to ask you about the symbol on Dani’s wrist.”

Her face showed no sign of emotion. I continued.

“Do you remember what it looks like? You said it was a snake head, right?”

She nodded.

Watching her expression, I showed her the bone dagger, pointing to the animal head on the hilt.

“Does it look like this?”

Her eyes widened. At last, I seemed to have caught her interest.

“That’s the one?” I said.

She met my eye, nodding once.

“How do you know it’s a snake?”

“She said so.”

It couldn’t have been coincidence that it was a serpent. We didn’t even have serpents on Eriana Kwai. This had to be related to the leviathan. But how?

“Do you know what it means?” I said, my heart beating faster.

She hesitated, seeming to contemplate something.

“One sec,” she said, and left the room.

Her soft footsteps carried all the way down the hall. The clock ticked, soft and loud on alternating beats.

I pocketed the dagger and sat at the table, relieving my aching feet.

Sitting on someone’s jacket, with nowhere to rest my arms on the cluttered table, I noticed how messy the house was. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, and I became aware of the smell coming off them. Fat, black flies buzzed around the kitchen. The floor was covered in mud. I checked the bottom of my boots, sure I’d just dragged more across the linoleum on my way to the table.

I checked the clock again. It struck me as odd that Anyo would have gone to bed already when his daughter was still awake, and the sun hadn’t even set.

After a couple of minutes, Adette returned with the book Anyo had shown us.

“It’s in here, too,” she said. “Papa told me it’s an ancient symbol once used by hunters to show their remorse for killing.”

She flipped through the pages, searching for it.

“Is it to do with Eriana’s punishment?” I said. “For betraying the Gaela?”

Adette glanced up at me with raised eyebrows.

“Your father told me the story of Eriana,” I said. “How she used her abilities to kill all those caribou.”

“Yes,” said Adette. “The symbol is supposed to show the Gaela that the hunters remember what happened, and that they won’t abuse the natural order of things the way Eriana did. It’s a promise that they’ll only take what they need—enough to keep themselves from going hungry.”

She landed on a page towards the end. There was the fanged animal head.

But how much did Dani know?

“Is that it? It’s just a symbol to remember the Aanil Uusha’s punishment?”

Adette looked taken aback. “That ice storm was a huge tragedy. It killed all of Eriana’s people.”

“I know,” I said quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

A loud snore and a cough came from the living room behind us. Adette’s face drained of colour. She whirled around, dropping the book on the table.

I started to ask what was wrong, but Adette had already dashed to the couch. Its back was to the kitchen so I couldn’t see the occupant, but a wave of understanding crashed over me.

I rose from my chair. “Adette, is your father all right?”

“He’s just tired,” she said.

“He’s not. Or you wouldn’t look so worried.”

She adjusted a woollen blanket over him.

“Do you need help?”

“No. He just … he had a lot to drink.”

I joined her at the couch, surprised. I’d never known Anyo to be a drinker. He was lying on his back, one arm dangling to the side, as though he were simply taking a nap.

“How long has this been going on?”

Adette didn’t answer. She adjusted her father’s arms over the blanket.

“I had no idea,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. Have you told anyone?”

She shook her head once, not meeting my eye.

“You don’t have to take on this responsibility alone. My family can help.”

I couldn’t let her deal with this by herself—not when she already had so much to worry about.

She watched her father’s chest rise and fall, keeping her face turned away from me.

“Here, let me help you clean up,” I said. “This place could use …”

I scanned the floor. Despite the mess, I didn’t see a single bottle of liquor or beer, or anything else that might have indicated that Adette’s father had been drinking himself into a stupor.

A single teacup sat on the coffee table. It was tipped on its side, the bottom rimmed with the remnants of a dark tea.

I picked it up. The dregs were thick, almost black.

“Adette.”

She saw what I’d found and jumped.

“He hasn’t been drinking,” I said. “This is Ravendust powder!”

“It’s not—it’s just a little—he needed to—” said Adette, stammering.

“You slipped it to him!”

Though I’d meant for my tone to be scolding, it came out more surprised and awed.

Her mouth opened and closed.

“I needed to help him,” she said, voice high.

“Why?”

“He hasn’t been sleeping. He’s been having …”

Her voice broke. She began tucking the blanket around Anyo again.

“Anxiety?” I said.

She hesitated, and then nodded.

“My mother had anxiety, too,” I said. “For years after my brother died. She still gets it sometimes.”

Adette’s watery eyes met mine.

“He panics,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m all he has.”

Behind the exhaustion, her face was youthful and pure. She had so many responsibilities already.

Anyo must have felt some sense of control over his daughter’s fate when he’d been training master. Now that he’d lost the title, reality must have hit him full force.

“We can get him help from a doctor,” I said.

Adette took the teacup from me. When she looked down, a tear fell from her face and landed in the cup. She nodded.

“Just promise me you won’t keep knocking him out,” I said.

She almost smiled.

“Where did you even hear about using Ravendust powder?”

Very few knew of its power as a sedative. I’d learned about it from Annith on the Massacre, and she’d been the only one who’d known, then.