11. Jasper

Chapter eleven

Jasper

S he did it.

The massive sha'kara sinks into the sea, its head sizzling as it boils the water around the perfect hole Reina shot through it. One of my tentacles was snapped off, but that's fine, as long as I get its heart.

I rip into the beast until I reach the still-beating organ. It didn't realize its host was dead yet. No matter. It's mine now.

I wrap two tentacles around the heart and rip it out, then stuff it up under my tentacles to my beak. The iron taste of the meat is overwhelming, but the power it gives me is a hundred-fold what I've had before. This is true monstrousness. It'll take an immense amount of essence to change my shape into this creature.

There's a sharp pull on my gut and I worry the sha'kara heart is too much. I turn in the water, and, through the blood, I spot Reina. She flails her arms and legs at random, but none of her efforts get her any closer to the surface.

She's sinking.

I surge toward her and wrap two tentacles delicately around her middle. She breaches and her chest expands as she breathes. I push her onto the raft and then release my massive octopus shift, returning to my man form.

I hold onto the edge of the raft as Reina coughs above me. Her white shirt is once again so soaked through that I can see the color of her skin, and the shape of her body. I try not to look but…

She gasps for air. "Did we win?"

"Yes. You did wonderful."

She smiles weakly. "First time for everything."

My heart lurches. Has no one ever commended her?

Without permission, my hands reach up and cup her cheeks. She stills, and so do I as we rock on the sea. "Everything you do is wonderful."

She sucks in a soft gasp, her eyes searching mine for the truth. Then she jerks away.

"Stop being so lascivious," she growls.

I wasn't, but…

I pull myself onto the raft and shake my long hair. Reina groans and tries to shield herself from the flying droplets.

"Do you have to act like a dog, too?" she asks.

I love ruffling her fins, especially when she's hurting. It transforms that hurt into annoyance, and it distracts her from the pain.

I turn so that we're face to face. "Do you want me to show you my dog again?"

"So I wasn't imagining it? That was you ," she asks, her eyes glinting with recognition.

"It was," I say.

"How?"

I sit back and wring out my shirt. "Tell me about your kingdom, and I'll tell you about my magus ability."

She crosses her arms. "Why?"

"Because."

I like hearing you talk.

Her eyes narrow on me. "If you're planning to overthrow the Fynish governing body, I'll have you know that I'm three steps ahead of you already."

I can't help the smile that spreads over my face. "Oh?"

She scowls and mutters a curse.

"Don't be shy now, princess. I need to hear everything."

"You need to hear nothing. Where are the paddles?" she asks, searching across the raft.

One of the paddles is floating nearby, so I dive in and grab it. The other, and our coconuts, are too far gone to reach. I'm sure there'll be more on the next island.

"So, tell me about this coup you've planned," I say as I pull the paddle through the water.

Reina is silent, but I'm not disheartened. I know how to get under her skin.

I glance at her over my shoulder. "The rebellion, right? You and your little band had something planned for the night of your sister's wedding."

She glares daggers at me.

"Well?"

She grimaces. "I'm not sure how it went. You abducted me."

I turn front, giving longer strokes.

"I'm not sure if my sister is alive either, but you seem to think she's dead."

It's my turn to be silent.

"It's okay for you to ignore me, but not the other way around?"

What can I say that will ease her heart?

She punches me in the arm, and it fucking hurts.

I glare at her and she glares right back.

Then punches me again.

I block her next strike and grab her arms. "Are all your sisters such violent creatures, or is it just you?"

She spits in my eye—a-fucking-gain. I wince it shut.

"That was rude," I say, wiping her saliva from my lashes.

"You're one to talk. Look at us!" she exclaims, ripping her arms from my grasp. "We're lost at sea, monsters all around. We probably won't survive the journey to wherever you want to sell me anyway! That's the rudest part of all. You didn't even think if you could properly get your payoff. What a fucking waste."

She sits down and hugs her knees to her chest.

A waste. As if her life has some value that must be spent .

I don't know what to say that won't offend her, so I just paddle on. The next island draws nearer as the sun pulls across the sky and lights it with gold. I'm sweating by the time we enter the breach, so I allow us to be dragged in by the surf.

We hit the sand and Reina helps me drag the raft up. We lean it against a set of trees and Reina sets to work crafting the shingles that will protect us without my prompting. Already we've become attuned to the needs of one another.

No. It's not what you think it is.

I sharpen another spear and wade into the shallows as the sun looms closer to the horizon. Within thirty minutes I have a good haul. Reina tries to start a fire for us, practicing being gentle with her magic. She fails, absolutely blasting the coconut husk she'd wedged under a much-too-big felled tree, but I love watching her learn more about herself.

She tries again and again, burning up all the husk before it can catch the log. Her tenacity is inspiring, and I find myself watching her instead of doing something useful.

She growls loudly at herself on the tenth or so failed attempt.

"Let me," I offer.

"Get bent," she snarls at me.

I sigh. "If you fuck up any more, we'll be out of dried husk on the whole island, and there'll be no fire tonight. How does raw fish sound to you?"

She seethes for a moment, then throws a bit of the brown husk down toward the charred log and storms toward the surf. I wedge a rock into the log where it's cracked from her flames, then hammer it with another until it splits. I lean the logs against one another, prepare the husk, and then spark it with my flint. It catches quickly and blazes to life.

I liberally season the fish—because unseasoned food is a crime—then realize we've lost all our water, and I'm ready to drain the sea.

"We need coconuts," I say in her direction.

Either she's ignoring me or didn't hear me over the waves. I don't want to push her any further before she's fed since she does get quite cranky, so I head into the forest seeking more coconuts on my own. She's not escaping me tonight.

I don't have to go far to find a decent cache and bring several back to the beach. Reina is drawing in the sand when I return, marking runes around our camp.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Just setting some protections," she says.

"Protections?"

She shrugs. "I don't know many, but my big sister Lily taught me a few before she left for school."

She pulls her finger through the wet sand, making the shape for Eng, Kor'Tar's shield, protecting us from harm. I imagine this is something she's done around her doorframe before, and the thought sends a cocktail of emotions through me. Anger that she has to use it in the first place, but also pride—though I haven't any right to feel it—that she learned how to protect herself. I'm also worried that when I send her back, she'll have to use it again. What if it fails?

I trace the sand after her, adding accents and additions to her runes that specify the punishment of transgression—getting dragged into the sea—and alert us to the offender with a flare of blue light.

Reina looks at me curiously. "You rune-write?"

I nod. "My father was adamant that I learned the gods' words."

"What don't you know…" She scoffs and returns to her drawing.

"A lot of things," I say, following her through the sand to enhance her designs. "I don't know much about the land, or Ki'ah Ohn."

"Then illuminate me on your few failings so that I might feel better about the swath of mine," she says spitefully.

Our hands carve through the wet sand together, protecting our camp. To think that she believes she's deficient. Untrained, yes, but lacking , never. So I must make her understand that everyone has shortcomings, and that doesn't make them any less worthy.

"I don't know much about your many different cultures: dances, how to make your food or clothes—though I do know the Illyan seasoning makes fish delightful—but you understand my point. I don't know how many of your machines work, or what theater is—"

Her hand halts mid-Phi, a rune for sweet dreams. She must be having nightmares.

"You don't know theater?"

"I know what it is, but I've never experienced it."

"I've been to the theater more times than I can count." She looks at me with a bright grin. "It was one of the things my mother allowed me to do. I could show you some."

I sit back, abandoning the runes. I doubt anyone will attempt to infiltrate our camp, but if they do, it's already well protected.

"Will you show me?" I ask, smiling back at her.

She gains her feet and stands with her back to the sea. The sun casts bright orange and pink across the sky above her, and the surf washes the sand with gentle laps.

Reina takes a deep breath. "Ladies and gentlemen," she begins in a deep voice. "Or, gentleselkies," she corrects and we both chuckle. Her golden hair is wavy, framing her face and shoulders wildly. I love the way she looks right now.

"Tonight, I bring you The Plight of Sir Henry ."

She looks at me expectantly and mimics clapping her hands. I clap vigorously. Now I know. Clap often. Whenever she pauses, just clap.

The play begins with her narrating the situation for Sir Henry. He's in need of a wife to claim his inheritance from his father, but no woman has yet caught his eye.

"I need your shirt," she says once Sir Henry has arrived at a ball.

I raise my eyebrow and grip the hem of my shirt. "You just want to see my chest."

She rolls her eyes. "I need it to differentiate characters."

"You could always take off your shirt," I offer.

She kicks sand at me, and I block my face with my arm.

"All right, fine." I smile and strip my shirt off.

Her eyes rake across my marked chest and I pause, letting her look. She shakes herself with a start and reaches out for the shirt. I toss it to her and she wraps it around her head like a bonnet.

"Sir Henry, so lovely to see you again after so long," she says in an overly effeminate voice.

"Could this be Arelia, my childhood friend?" she monologues for Henry as he talks of her beauty, and how much she's grown.

"Yes, it's been so long," she says, clearing her throat and assuming Henry's voice.

The plight goes on. It turns out, Henry was scorned by Arelia, but not of her own doing. Her mother forced her to move away and move on, separating the two. But they were destined for one another, and in the end, they were married.

I clap hard, then whistle, as the sky turns dark blue. "Wonderful show!"

Reina bows, then throws my shirt back at me. But I like the way she stole looks at my chest throughout her performance, so I leave it off.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, holding out the stick with a selection of roasted fish.

"Starved," she says, ripping the meat off one and digging in.

I try not to watch her, but it's so hard not to. Everything she does is delightful.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"We should bed down soon. Get a good night's rest," I say.

"Are we close?" she asks, holding her hand over her mouth as she talks.

"I'm not sure," I lie.

There's a port on this island—I felt it as we were coming in. It's on the west side, and no more than two docks, but it's enough. There'll be an inn, and likely a small settlement. Not enough for the princess to escape into, but enough of one that she might be stolen from me.

"Come," I say, holding up the copper manacles.

She scowls. "You don't expect me to wear that tonight?"

I snap the first one on my wrist. "Yes, I do. No one will take you from me."

Her cheeks flush and she looks away. "Fine. Let me finish my meal and handle my business."

She eats the rest of her fish in silence, and I pace beside our makeshift dwelling. I need her beside me and safe. I need her chained and close, yet I don't know why.

Yes, she's my bait, my bounty.

But what is this feeling?

Reina returns from the trees. A few feet are all that separate us. The dying firelight dances off her face, making mischief of her features. What is she thinking when she looks at me like that?

I hold the other manacle out to her, and she presents her arm. I reach out, holding her hand. My thumb skitters across the scarred flesh of her wrist, and she shivers.

"You'll have to get used to this," I say, teasing her flesh with the cold copper.

"Fine," she says, breathlessly.

I snap the other manacle around her wrist, then look up at her face. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips parted. Fuck, if I didn't know better, I'd think she was…

No.

She's not.

"Go," I say, pointing to the entrance of our dwelling.

She crawls in and I follow after her, situating myself against the wood so she can lay her back against my stomach. She's warm and smells floral, smoky, and salty like the sea. It smells like home.

Within moments, her breathing slows to a steady pace.

"Good night, Rei," I whisper.

"G'night, Jasper."