Ice Crypt (Mermaids of Eriana Kwai Book 2) (8 page)

So Annith and I followed Mujihi and Dani across the clearing, avoiding eye contact. I finally glanced down and saw that I’d managed to swipe nothing more than a splintered wooden crossbow from the shed. I tossed it aside, hoping Dani and her father had been too focused on our guilty faces to notice it.

Mujihi led us into a classroom and flicked a switch. The yellow lights quivered on after a pause. Once a ten-person cabin, the dingy wooden building now held desks, chairs, a bookcase, and a morbid pile of decaying First Aid dummies.

Dani held out an arm to let us enter first, cheeks tight with barely restrained smugness.

Annith and I sat at adjacent desks. Mujihi trembled with anger, purple-faced and breathing hard. I wondered if I was about to need self-defence.

He placed the tips of his fingers on my desk and leaned over, face level with mine. I fought the urge to recoil from his putrid breath.

“You think you can sabotage my training program?” he shouted, making me jump.

My heart thudded, but as Dani prowled the room behind her father, I gritted my teeth, determined to look composed.

“We weren’t trying to destroy anything,” I said.

Mujihi didn’t seem to hear me. He jabbed a thick finger into his chest. “I am the training master now! Anyo’s time here is done.”

“Papa—” said Dani, but Mujihi continued yelling.

“My warriors are better than Anyo’s ever were. I am not letting a couple of stupid teenagers ruin this Massacre.”

I bit my tongue. Whether he or Anyo held the position of training master was not my business, admittedly. But he had no right calling us stupid teenagers.

“If you truly wanted to help your people,” he said, “you would be asking to help train our warriors.”

“No amount of training will save those girls,” I said.

“Papa,” said Dani, peering around her father in a way that reminded me of a cowering dog. “They were trying to steal the weapons for a reason.”

He waved a large hand in her direction.

“Quiet.”

“But they wanted them for something. It’s probably to do with—”

“Quiet, Dani!”

“But Papa—”

Abruptly, he turned and brought his hand hard across Dani’s face. It cut the air like a thunderclap, and Dani stumbled backwards. She made no sound.

Mujihi’s cold eyes found mine once more. I looked past him to Dani, who fixed the back of the man’s head with a glare of utter hatred. Her face reddened where she’d been struck. She turned and swept from the room, slamming the door behind her with enough force to rattle the small building.

Mujihi bored into us, breathing hard. I clenched my fists automatically. This guy had something coming if he dared touch Annith or me.

“I’ll be reporting your actions to your parents, the Massacre Committee, and the police,” he said.

“The police?” said Annith in a high voice.

“Because we want to borrow a few things?” I said, much louder than intended. “Yet Dani didn’t get reported—”

Annith kicked me under the desks. I ignored her. I found myself on my feet.

A vein throbbed in the man’s temple. “Dani risked her life as a warrior of Eriana Kwai. I would hope you, of all people, would be aware of how much pressure falls onto Massacre warriors.”

“So much pressure that any witnesses to a crime are deemed unreliable, right?”

Annith kicked out again. “Meela!”

I shot her a glare. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

A yelp came from outside. All three of us snapped our heads around to look at the door.

No further sounds came. I turned back to Mujihi.

“Fine. Report us,” I said. “I’ll be sure to explain the
tremendous pressure
we’re under as former Massacre warriors. That seems to work around here.”

His lip curled in a way that reminded me he was related to Dani. He fixed me with his cold eyes for a moment before sweeping past us to open the door.

“If I see you anywhere near here again, you will regret it.”

Annith and I left the cabin quickly.

The police. The Massacre Committee. My parents.

No doubt Mujihi would tell them we’d been trying to break into his training base in some kind of childish act of rebellion. I became furious at myself for not planning this out more carefully. Finding the Host was hard enough without Dani and her father getting in my way.

We passed the Enticer, where Dani’s shadow lurked by the wooden shed we’d broken into. Her crossbow was in her hands, as though she’d just used it. Something lay at her feet.

I stopped.

“Dani, what did you do?”

“Got what we came for,” she said.

At her feet, caramel fur ruffled in the breeze. A spreading pool of blood glinted in the floodlight. Realisation sucked away any words I might have said.

A hunting arrow jutted from the dog’s ribcage.

“The trainees have been leaving food for it,” said Dani. “You should know better than anyone, Meela, that soft Massacre warriors are toxic.”

I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t care that she was provoking me.

Moments earlier, in the classroom with her father, I’d almost—almost—pitied her.

Annith wrapped a hand around my arm. I let her pull me away, my words still lost.

All of the trainees, who were already living with the knowledge that they’d soon be fighting for their lives, would arrive in the morning to learn that this animal had been killed because they’d been caring for it. Was Mujihi so determined to punish any act of compassion? The dog had been hungry, just like us, and those girls had been guilty only of empathy. What kind of training master were we dealing with? Anyo had been strict, but without his kindness and encouragement, the training program would have broken me at thirteen.

My toe caught on a root, pitching me forwards. I blinked, trying to focus on the path. The darkness pressed closer.

“Where do you think Tanuu is?” I said weakly.

Annith took a second to answer. “Hopefully he ran back to your place.”

We walked in silence for a long time. Mujihi’s words looped in my mind. The police. My parents. My people would all know. They would look on with pity, sorry my parents had to deal with the shame I kept bringing the family.

A foul word burst from Annith’s mouth so abruptly that I leapt in surprise.

“I’ve never met such a sick pair of human beings,” she said, voice shaking. “No wonder where Dani gets it from. He’s so … He’s completely …”

The dead dog still lingered in my vision. I blinked it away. Dani and her father wanted to turn out ruthless warriors, ones who associated compassion with death. Like Dani, they would learn to dismiss the feeling as a weakness.

I believed it would happen. The new training program would be different, after all.

The forest thinned as we neared the road. I hadn’t remembered passing the creek or the skunk cabbage or any other landmarks as we ducked beneath the fallen log.

“He might’ve already called our parents,” I said. “Prepare for that when you get home.”

Annith groaned. “I can’t believe we pissed off the new training master. My parents are going to totally hate me.”

I pulled my hood up, hunching against a deep chill. “Think the whole island will know by tomorrow?”

“Maybe not. He might find it an embarrassment, or bad publicity.”

We broke through the trees and stopped on the side of the road.

“Or,” I said, “he’ll boast about catching us to everyone who’ll listen.”

I pulled my boots on.

“Meela, how are we going to hunt for the Host without any weapons?”

I suspected her note of unease had more to do with the idea of opposing Dani’s father than anything else.

The earth crunched behind us and we whirled around. Tanuu emerged from the trees.

“We have one weapon.”

He held out a crossbow. Iron, relatively new, intact.

My mouth fell open. “How did …”

“Snatched it and ran. Sorry, I shoulda grabbed more. I panicked.”

“No. You did great, Tanuu.”

His white teeth flashed at me through the darkness. “We’re going anyway, then?”

I ran my hand along the crossbow, feeling the grip, the trigger, the sinew. Suddenly, Dani and her father hardly seemed like a setback. We could search the shoreline as long as we had one functional crossbow.

I grinned. “Let’s go find this Host.”

Annith’s shoulders relaxed, as though the decision came as a relief. Tanuu nodded, looking energised.

“You sure you want to come, Tanuu?” I said. “If a mermaid—”

“I’m coming.”

I stared into his dark eyes. He earned the right to come by getting the crossbow. I couldn’t tell him no after he’d done that much for us.

I nodded once. “We go at low tide. Meet here at noon.”

Once home, I hid the stolen weapon in a cavern of tree roots I’d once used as a fort. Then I snuck around to my father’s shed, retrieved his old crossbow and ammo, and stowed that, too. It would be easier the next day when I’d need to grab it all in broad daylight without drawing my parents’ attention.

I opened the front door to find my parents waiting for me in the kitchen, my mother at the table and my father leaning against the counter. Both were wrapped in faded bathrobes, looking weary under ruffled hair. They surprised me, at first, but then I realised I’d been stupid not to register the lamplight glowing through the window. I glanced at the old clock on the wall. Three in the morning.

I faltered in the doorway, as though ready to turn around and flee.

“Come inside, Metlaa Gaela,” said my father.

I narrowed my eyes, not trusting the calm tone of his voice.

“Now,” he said.

I edged sideways into the kitchen, keeping my distance.

“Mujihi called.”

My mouth dried up. I’d had the whole way home to come up with an excuse, and I’d spent it thinking about finally getting Lysi back.

“Well?” said my mother. “What do you think you were doing?”

“He isn’t a good person,” I said, the words flooding out. “He should never have been made training master.”

My parents exchanged a meaningful glance.

After a moment, my father said, “That’s not for you to decide.”

I huffed. I hoped my vague statement would serve as an answer, like maybe we’d been trying to investigate his training program.

My father stepped closer. “He’s going to inform the constable and the rest of the Massacre Committee first thing in the morning.”

I swiped my hood back, hot with anger.

“It’s not fair! Dani’s—I mean—she actually—” I closed my eyes for a second, trying to bring my voice down. “Dani
murdered
someone, Papa. She killed Shaena on the Massacre and your committee won’t even acknowledge it.”

“It happened on international waters, Meela.”

“International—what kind of excuse—I don’t understand why everyone on that stupid committee even
likes
her!”

“If you put aside her crime, she comes across as a sweet girl, very helpful around the training—”

“Dani is not sweet!” I bellowed.

My mother put a hand over her heart. “Honestly, Meela.”

I stared at my father, aghast. My whole life, adults had always thought Dani was a polite, kind girl. I never understood how no one saw her for what she was.

“Look, Meela,” said my father. “She made a mistake on the Massacre. Heat of battle, fingers too tight over the trigger, and the girl happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“The girl’s name was Shaena,” I said. “And I saw her get murdered.”

My father rubbed his balding head. “I never said I’m fond of Dani. I tolerate her for the sake of keeping harmony.”

“She’s—”

“Meela,” my mother snapped. “Quiet. Let your father finish.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at them.

“Right,” said my father. “Let’s agree that Dani made a mistake.”

“But—”

“The
same way
you made a mistake by putting your trust in a sea demon.”

I scoffed, hiding my embarrassment with anger. “So why am I the one getting all the suspicion? Why is a murder completely overlooked, but my …”

I waved a hand, heat rising to my face.

“This brings me to the issue at hand. After Mujihi called, your mother spoke to Annith’s, and we all agree on something. Yes, Dani was granted a pardon. Yes, her actions on the Massacre were ignored because she’s a former warrior and Mujihi’s daughter.”

My mother looked away, failing to hide an ugly expression.

“You and Annith are also Massacre warriors,” said my father. “It would be unfair to punish you for this incident while allowing Dani’s actions to go unanswered.”

I stared at him, my brain working to process what he said.

“Are … are you serious?”

My father nodded once. “But if this has to do with your Host story—”

“It doesn’t,” I said, deciding it would be best to lie.

He crossed his arms, glancing to my mother. “Well, I was going to say, an old campsite seems an odd place to start looking. If I were searching for a legend, I would try the island’s sacred landmarks. The things that make Eriana Kwai what it is.”

“Oh.”

Sacred landmarks. Yes, that was exactly why we were headed to Skaaw Beach. His words sparked a tiny flame of hope in my chest.

“Enough, now,” said my mother, scowling. “You won’t be excused if you cause any more trouble.”

I took this as my dismissal. As I turned away, I wondered if Annith was having the same conversation with her parents. Was I lucky to be getting off this easily?

“I’m sorry,” I said, keeping my back to them.

“Take that stuff off your eyes,” said my mother. “You look like a drunk raccoon.”

I washed the kohl, dirt, and sweat from my face, then pulled off my clothes and slid into bed.

Away from their disappointment, I could think more clearly. I was sorry for being caught, and for causing them stress. But I wasn’t sorry for going there in the first place. More than the crossbow, I’d come away with a better understanding of our new training master.

If I could help it, he would not hold the title for long.

Rather than scare me away, Mujihi had given me another reason to keep going. Finding the Host meant ending the need for Massacres, and ending the need for his training program.