Nope. Still looks like a smudge to me.
I turn back to Ranan, my belly in knots. “I don’t understand. Why can’t we move closer?”
He tries to get to his feet, grimaces, and flops gracelessly back onto the blankets. Immediately, I rush to his side. Ranan is the worst at being ill. He pushes himself hard every day, and he’s not giving his leg a chance to heal up. Throughout our travel on Akara’s back, I’ve been doing everything that needs doing—making fresh water with the sand filtration system, drying seaweed, pulling up nets, making food, tending to Ranan, and adjusting our tent so the strong winds that come through don’t knock it down. It’d be fine if there were two people to do such things but with Ranan being injured, I’m the one handling all of it.
And I am exhausted. Truly and completely bone-deep exhausted. My initial nerves at going to the village of his people have gone away, and now I’m just ready for someone else to help with the chores. Ranan does what he can, but he’s still weak and gets fatigued easily. Most things also have to be completed on the edge of Akara’s back, and Ranan has to stay under the tent, so I just handle it all.
I thought as we traveled that perhaps I’d have time to practice swimming lessons, but there’s been no chance.
Ranan tries to push up from the bedding again and I make it to his side, putting my hands on his shoulders. “Stay down! How do you expect to heal?”
“I expect the healer to take care of that,” he tells me in a surly tone.
“Well, they’re not going to be pleased that you’ve pulled your stitches twice,” I snap at him, forgetting to be pleasant and ever so eager to please. The moment I realize I’ve lost my temper, I flinch.
But he only laughs, the sound as rusty as the smile that tugs at his lips. “No, they will not like it at all. I cannot sit here forever, though. We must get to the flotilla and Akara can go no closer.”
“Why not?” I try to keep the panic out of my voice. Surely there’s a logical explanation. “You said there would be no swimming, remember?”
For a moment, he seems chagrined. “I did not mean to lie, my wife. I thought this would be easier. Akara’s older than the last time she was near the flotilla, but she is just as belligerent as before. Her thoughts are becoming increasingly territorial. The reason why Akara and I are not with the flotilla is because she is at the age where she is confrontational to other females. Once she is older, she will calm, but until then, we cannot get any closer or she will grow aggressive. If the hamarii split apart because she is challenging a female, they will submerge. It will cause those aboard their backs to lose their supplies. Akara will stay back here and you and I will have to swim the rest of the way.”
“But…your leg.”
“I am buoyant in the water. It will not pain me to swim. I will just use my arms more than anything.” He reaches up and takes my hand in his. “I am far more worried about you. Do not fret, Valessa. I will not let anything happen to you.”
I want to argue, but he twines his fingers with mine and I swallow back my fears. He’s not happy about this either, I remind myself. He thought Akara would be calmer. I’ve noticed myself that she seems agitated today; her movements are choppy, making our shelter shift and shake in place. I eye our joined hands, running my fingers over his larger knuckles, and I confess my biggest fear. “I’m not worried about drowning, Ranan. I know you won’t let that happen. I’m just worried that you’ll think I’m hopeless. That you’ll be disappointed in me for not being able to swim and I’ll embarrass you in front of your family.”
That you’ll decide you no longer want a bothersome human wife.
“No,” he blurts. Then he closes his eyes, pauses, and elaborates. “You won’t embarrass me. I know you cannot swim. It is inconvenient but not your fault. I would not hold that against you. I swear to you on Lord Vor.”
He knows just what to say. Invoking Lord Vor’s name reminds me that we are in the god’s territory now, and Ranan’s people are probably his favored. “Just don’t remind Lord Vor that I haven’t gotten him his fish yet.”
A hint of a smile flashes on Ranan’s somber face and he squeezes my hand. “The gods will understand that you have been occupied with other things.”
I’m not so sure. The gods aren’t known to be incredibly understanding. I’ve promised Vor of the Seas a sacrifice, and I’ve let weeks pass without fulfilling my promise. I’m suddenly thankful that there’s an Anticipation going on right now—like Ranan said, Vor might not even be there to accept my sacrifice. Here’s hoping.
Sighing, I turn and look at the smudge of darkness on the edge of the horizon. It’s farther away than I’ve ever swam, and we’re in the middle of the sea. We’ve seen nothing but blue waters for days now. I’ve found the vastness a bit alarming, but safe on Akara’s back, I’ve been able to stave off my fears. Now I get to jump in and swim next to my husband who will swim better with one leg than me with both.
Lovely.
“What about our supplies?” I ask Ranan. “Do we leave them here?”
“For now. We’ll send someone back to retrieve them once we’ve arrived on the flotilla.” He releases my hand and turns on his side, extending his legs out behind him. “The sooner we go, the better. Help me stand?”
Stand? He’s ready to go now, it seems. I’m not ready. I might never be ready.
I swallow my fear and nod brightly and lie through my teeth. “Great. Let’s do this.”
It takes a bit of maneuvering to get Ranan to his feet—he might have four arms, but having only one uninjured leg plays havoc with his balance. He puts all his hands on me and uses my sturdy form as a lever to haul himself upright and then leans his weight over my shoulder and hops towards the edge of the water. Once we get close enough, he dives in. I hold my breath until he surfaces and gives his head a toss, flicking water from his proud head fin. “Better already.”
“How’s your leg?” I ask, stalling as I curl my bare toes against the moss on Akara’s back.
“Stings a little, but I’ll just use my arms,” he says, and demonstrates by flicking a bit of water at me.
He seems buoyant enough, all right. My turn. Biting back my fear, I hold my nose and run towards the edge of Akara’s shell, then jump into the water. It’s biting cold out here despite the warm sunshine, and the shock of it makes me flail momentarily.
I surface, sputtering, and then immediately sink again.
I claw frantically at the water, desperate to get air, and then a hard arm locks around my waist and hauls me to the surface. I cough right into Ranan’s frowning face.
“Quit flailing,” he tells me. “You’re going to tire yourself out.”
“I’m trying to swim—”
“Hold onto me,” he says. I wrap my arms around his neck, shivering, but he’s not able to keep both of us afloat. We go under once more, my weight hanging on him like an anchor.
I immediately release him so we can both suck in air and paddle at his side, splashing. “Just go,” I tell him. “I’ll swim as best as I can at your side and we’ll manage.”
“Take your dress off,” he says. “It’s keeping you from being able to move your limbs properly.”
“And show up naked on your family’s doorstep? I think not!”
His frustration is evident, and he tries again and again to keep me afloat while he propels us forward. It never works for long, and in the end, I simply paddle in my flailing way at his side while he slowly moves at my side. I try to copy his movements, but he can hold his breath for far longer than me, so it doesn’t matter nearly as much when he goes under for long spells…whereas it matters for me. We push on, though, and somehow manage to make some progress away from Akara. I can tell he’s getting tired because his movements grow slower, his breathing labored. I watch him anxiously, which just makes me swallow even more water. We swim and swim and…gods, the flotilla looks just as far away as it ever was. I want to weep with frustration because my limbs are cramping from fatigue, but I keep going because there’s no alternative. I paddle and claw at the water, paddle and claw, and somehow I keep going under over and over again.
