And if I see them again before we leave, I will gut them and leave their innards for the gulls to pick through.

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Chapter

Eight

VALI

Ranan is impossible to read. I don’t know what to make of him. He’s promised to talk more, and yet he dives into the waters and retreats over and over again, spending most of his day away from me. He brings more raw fish for me to eat, and when I ask him to show me how to gut it and prepare it properly, he dismisses my request. Later, is all he says.

When the sun sets and it grows cold, he comes into the tent and wraps himself around me, still silent.

Well, he did say he doesn’t talk much.

Lying in Ranan’s arms does make the hard floor—the turtle’s back, I remind myself—a bit more comfortable. There’s fluffy, tufted moss growing on the shell outside of the tent but nothing inside it, which makes the “floor” feel like stone. The sea-ogre puts his arms (all four of them) around me, caging me against him, my back to his front. I tuck one of my hands under my cheek and wait for him to make a move.

If I’m his wife, as he says, he’ll want me to fulfill my wifely duties and serve him in bed. I know from past experience that most men want something when they get into bed with you, and I wait for him to give me a signal—a suggestive touch, a tug on my clothing, something.

Yet there is nothing from Ranan. Again, I don’t know how to read him.

I stare into the dark, wide awake, and decide to press my luck and ask a few questions. “Are we far from shore?”

He takes a moment to respond. “Not too far.”

“I see.”

“Don’t try to escape.” His voice is harsh and annoyed, and my shoulders tense. He notices my reaction and adds, “If you want to go to shore, I will take you, that’s all. You can’t swim.”

Here I thought I was a decent swimmer. “I’m not going to run for it. There’s nowhere for me to go. My parents are gone, and my land destroyed by Aventine soldiers. If they hear Parness in my accent, they’ll enslave me. If someone thinks I’m a runaway slave, they’ll enslave me. Gods, even if they just see a woman alone, they’ll enslave me. I’m safer with you.”

He grunts. “I know nothing of humans other than they like to carry gold on their ships, but it seems unfair to you.”

“Very,” I agree. “But that is the world we live in.”

He grunts.

I take the lull of conversation to ease into a new topic. “What made you want a bride, Ranan?”

It’s silent for so long that I worry I’ve offended him all over again. But he sighs and then says, “It was a sudden decision.”

That’s…not much of an answer. Something tells me it’s all I’m going to get from him tonight, though. Clearly Ranan does not like to share his feelings. There are many reasons why someone would seek out a bride. Another set of hands to do the work, for example…though if that’s the case, I don’t think Ranan would have chosen a human. Perhaps he was lonely, I tell myself. Perhaps he wants to start a family.

Lord Vor’s mercy, I can’t imagine having a child atop a turtle’s back. I’m going to have to ask about that at some point, when Ranan is feeling more amenable. For now, I can dance around the idea. “Will you let me know what you will expect of a wife?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out myself.”

“Ah.” An honest answer, but not a particularly helpful one.

He shifts behind me, one of his hands resting on my arm and twitching. Is he touching my skin deliberately as a lead-in to something else? It’s so hard to tell. “My silence is not anger. I am…not good at expressing myself with words.” He pauses. “I am used to being alone.”

I appreciate his words, and reach out to pat the hand resting on my arm. “I’m probably going to have a great deal of questions for you. Is that all right? I’m not familiar with your life or your people and I will probably ask a lot.”

“And here I thought you had pleasured a great many sea-ogres.”

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’m frozen. I don’t know what to say to him. He’s calling me out on my lies, but we both already know that I’m a liar. Is he chastising me? How do I respond to that?

He gives my arm a squeeze. “Joke.”

Oh.

I feel as if I can breathe again. A tense laugh rushes out of me. “You had me worried.”

“I don’t like lies.”

I wait for him to go on, and when he doesn’t, the silence turns awkward again. Do I tell him I won’t lie again? I’ll surely be lying then, because lies have become second nature to me. I don’t know when I’m going to lie. They just sometimes slip out. “I…understand.”

The quiet is so intense in the tent it starts to feel oppressive. Is he waiting for me to say something more? I chew on my lip, fretting.

Just go to sleep, I tell myself. Quit asking him so many questions since you’re not prepared for his answers. But I’m not ready yet, not when I’m just now really and truly talking to Ranan for the first time since we met. “Do you have family?” I ask brightly. “Brothers? Sisters? Parents?”

Pause.

“You’re asking now?”

“Is now a bad time?”

I get the impression that he bites back a sigh before he answers me. “I have parents on the flotilla.”

Well, now I have more questions. “A flotilla? What’s that?”

“Hamarii cluster together into a family unit, laying their flippers atop one another and drift in the open waters while they eat. It allows many of us to live close together. Like your land-bound villages. That is where my family is. Our flotilla.”

How very fascinating. He sounds fond of them. He says the word “flotilla” almost like a caress. “And yet you are not with them?”

A hint of a smile touches his hard mouth. Just a hint. “Akara is at an age where she is territorial. She does not like other females near her. Some hamarii are more aggressive than others, and Akara is one. I raised her from a hatchling and we have a bond. I could choose to release her from our bond or leave with her.” He shrugs. “So I left with her. I still visit my family, but never for long.”

There’s no resentment in his tone. Whatever his bond is with his turtle, it’s enough for him. Of course, a territorial turtle raises new kinds of issues. “Is she…going to be upset that you have a wife?”

“No.” He pauses and then adds, almost reluctantly, “She already thinks of you as mine. Do you have more questions?”

“Far too many. Should I stop asking?”

His mouth flattens again. “You should sleep.”

I probably should, but now my mind is whirling with all kinds of thoughts. Things like what I’ll do to get on Akara’s good side. What I’ll do to get on Ranan’s good side. Surely he has a good side. There seems an obvious way to get him to like me and yet… “Can I ask one more question?”

Another heavy sigh. “Go ahead.”

“Since I’m your wife, are we going to have sex soon?” I blurt out, and continue on before he can interrupt. “I’m just asking because we should think about prevention of some kind unless you want to have children. Back in my village, there was a wise-woman that sold honeycombs packed with dung, and we could use those as a preventative. But I have nothing like that right now and I’m not sure where I’d even find a honeycomb.”

Ranan pauses. “You would eat that?” Disgust is clear in his voice.

“Um, no. You put it inside you to catch the seed and make it go sour.”

His big body jerks in response. “That’s disgusting. You won’t do anything like that.”

Oh, very well then. I suppose he feels quite strongly about things like that. Some people don’t like a wise-woman’s methods, but I’ve never heard anyone complain. I’m just as happy not stuffing dirty honeycombs anywhere myself. “Then you’ll have to pull out. Which is fine, truly—you can come on my tits or my belly, and that’s always a nice thing. I’m just bringing it up so there’s no surprises.”