Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 10
APRIL
"Here, my finned friends," I joke as I cast my line into the slushy, rocking waters of the ocean. "Come on, little scaly buddies. Come take a bite of this worm."
Harlow's kid, Rukhar, stares at me with surprise. "You can't call them. They can't hear you."
"They can't?" I bat my eyes, trying to seem innocent and foolish. "You're sure?"
At his side, Pak giggles, his little fluffy bunny-tail wiggling madly. It takes everything I have not to laugh with him and give myself away. I know how to fish. I've fished all my life. It's one of the memories that has been tickling at the back of my mind, and holding a pole and standing near the waves feels so very right. This is something I can spend my days doing, and gladly.
After breakfast, Harlow suggested Rukhar and Pak teach me how to fish. I don't know if she was sending them to watch me or if I'm supposed to be watching them, but I'm happy to help out. They're good kids, though, and I've been laughing with them for hours. Both boys are very patient with every silly, exaggerated question I ask, and Pak solemnly puts the bait on my hook each time for me. The worm looks more like a centipede with shrimp-parts but I'm trying not to think about that. The land provides, but it doesn't have to make it pretty, I remind myself.
They've been laughing at me all morning because I don't want us to say the word "fishing." I tell them it's bad luck and it'll let the fish know what we're up to, so we call it what my ancestors called it â holoholo. They think I'm crazy, but a fun kind of crazy. I won't even use the word fish, which makes Pak giggle constantly as we come up with other words for them.
"The scaled friends are underwater," Rukhar tells me, his face quite serious. "Have you ever been underwater? You can't hear anything."
"So I shouldn't call them?" I bite my lip, pretending to be confused. "What if I just call a lot louder? OH LOOK AT THIS SNACK JUST DANGLING IN THE WATER! WHAT INCREDIBLE LUCK! IT WOULD MAKE SOMETHING AN EXCELLENT MEAL!"
My bellowing makes the people farther down the beach turn and give me weird looks. It also makes Pak fall over, clutching his sides and giggling madly, which was the reaction I was hoping for.
Rukhar just shakes his head at me, as if I'm the biggest dummeh that ever dummied. He turns in my direction. "No matter how loud you are, they're still fâ er, scaly buddies. Have you ever seen one with ears?"
I grab his arm before he can put his back to the sea. "Oops! Don't do that."
He pauses, glancing behind him. "Do what?"
"Turn your back to the water. It's disrespectful to her." I nod at the slushy waves ahead of me. "She won't feed us if we're not polite."
Rukhar's face screws up, and for a moment, he looks like his silent, glowering father.
Before he can respond, my line jumps, ripping at my hands and capturing my attention. With a startled sound, I grab it and tug hard, only for the line to go slack immediately. I pull it up and my hook is clean, my worm gone. "Oh, nuts. See? She's telling us to behave."
"You jerked too hard," Rukhar tells me sagely. He reaches for the dripping hook and hands it over to Pak, who produces another wriggling centipede-crawfish thing from his bag. "Next time, let it nibble a bit longer before you jerk the line. You scared him away and probably dislodged your worm in the process."
I make a face, frustrated, as if I'm just the worst learner. "Next time, I suppose. You don't think I hurt it, do you?"
"Pfft. No." Rukhar gives me a dismissive look. "They're, um, aquatic scaled things. Devi says they don't feel anything around the mouth. They don't have the nerds."
"Nerves," I correct. But losing my catch reminds me that I'm being too noisy and too flippant. I'm sorry, I tell the ocean silently. I'll be less lolo and more respectful when I cast my line again.
Thunder rumbles, and I look up at the sky. It's clear, which is confusing.
Both Rukhar and Pak giggle.
"Greetings, friends," drawls Valmir as he approaches the rock we're perched upon.
I blush. It wasn't thunder at all, but my khui. He leans against the boulder with one hand, looking as casual as can be. "And what are we up to today?"
He looks good today. His elegantly muscled body is displayed to perfection with a form-fitting tunic with no sleeves and extra room under the arms to allow movement. I think about shoving a hand under the leather and scratching my fingers down his furry pectorals, and the thought is far more distracting than it should be. I rub my chest, cognizant of the khui song and how loud it is...and how I'm tempted to fling myself onto Valmir and grind against him until I'm tingling all over. I don't, of course, but I think about it for a nice, long moment. "Lessons."