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“You mustn’t give up on yourself. On your life.”
“I’m not! I didn’t ask for this.”
Before he could reply, she stood and went down the path toward the camp.
As she walked, Riella became hyperaware of everything. The way the fern leaves tickled her ankles as she brushed past them, the sun making dappled patterns on the jungle floor, the birdcall comprised of the same three notes over and over again. It suddenly all seemed painfully perfect and precious.
In a matter of days and nights, she would cease to be here, or anywhere. Washed away with the tide, Ferrante said. It would almost be as if she never existed at all.
Jarin jogged from behind her, falling into step with her. “But why can’t we use the amulet to save your life? Perhaps that’s why the Sea Witch revealed the map to you.”
“And go against the prophecy? I doubt the Sea Witch would allow it, or why would there be a prophecy at all?” Riella pushed a branch aside. “If I find the amulet, it’ll be to restore Seraphine. That’s my fate.”
The pirate sighed heavily. “There would be other ways to restore her. Polinth is not the only mage in the land. But you can’t save anyone if you’re dead.”
“And I will surely try not to die. But everyone does, sooner or later. I’m not exempt.” She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “You want to help? Get the Pandora seaworthy. Allow me to fulfill my mission.’
“I will,” he replied quietly. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll help you to fulfill it. I owe you, for waylaying you on this island in the first place.”
“I thought you owed me death?”
“Turns out I needn’t have bothered. Fate has it in for you, big time.”
He gave her a sidelong look, which she returned.
She shook her head. “You’re not funny.”
“Do you want to talk about?—”
“No.”
Riella feared that if she let down the barrier around her feelings, she’d never be able to put it back up. Jarin would see her at her most vulnerable, and she couldn’t allow that. She didn’t have time for feelings. She certainly didn’t have time to fall apart.
So, she swallowed hard, willing the gigantic, scary tidal wave of emotion building in her chest to dissolve.
“I must find a way to contact my friends,” she said, chewing her lip. “I’ll need their help to retrieve the amulet, because the undersea caves are too deep for us to reach alone.”
“How’re you going to contact them?”
“Sirens can Send to each other underwater. Talk through our minds. Over a long distance, we can Send only a general distress signal. That’s what I’ll have to try, because I don’t know where my friends are right now.”
Jarin spluttered. “You can read each other’s minds? Gods. That explains a lot.”
“Only underwater,” she clarified. “And the greater the distance, the more difficult it is. Near an island as big as this one, it’ll be hard for the Sending to travel through the water undisturbed.”
“We’ll head out to sea on a rowboat, then. Tomorrow?”
She nodded her assent.
The sun was low and red in the sky when they reached the camp. A resigned melancholy settled over Riella as the initial shock of Ferrante’s revelation wore off. The melancholy was hardly an improvement, though, because she didn’t wish to spend her remaining time alive feeling miserable, either.
Kohara and the children arranged kindling in the fire pit. The old woman’s smile quickly faded as she registered Riella and Jarin’s stoic expressions. Ruslo and Nuri had evidently decided the siren was unlikely to maul them, because they circled Riella as she walked over.
“We’re making a fire.” Ruslo’s cheek was smudged with ash and his dark hair was askew. “Would you like to help?”
“Yes, I would,” she replied, glad for the distraction. “I’ve never made a fire before.”
Jarin hung back. “Will you be alright if I look in on Drue?”
