Listen to the Water | FULL SERIES | Wattys 2022 Shortlist | ✔

(11) Taiki: On Our Side

Finika whirls around. His guarded look turns to relief the moment he sees me, even though I'm not supposed to be outside. "You can heal?" he asks.

So he knows spoken Shalda. That's good.〈 Yes, 〉I answer.〈 Let me handle it. 〉

He backs away immediately. I jet around in front of the Shalda-Kel.〈 Can you understand me? 〉

He can, but only a thin, pathetic sound comes out when he tries to speak. His hand shakes too hard to sign back coherently. He's turning ghastly pale, a sure sign of the poisoning.

I catch his hand gently and pull it down.〈 Lie still. You'll just make it spread faster. I can heal it, but you need to lie still. 〉

〈 —escape. 〉

He's still trying to talk to me. I won't be able to hear him as soon as I start the healing song, so I keep my hand on his and try to listen. The damage will only get worse the longer he struggles. But if I don't listen, he'll know I'm on the other side.

〈 —Karu 〉he manages, a barely coherent wheeze.〈 You—escape—dangerous— 〉

He breaks off in a coughing fit. There's no way I can explain this, but I think the poison might spare me the need. The coughing doesn't end. That's the only excuse I need to start the healing song.

Familiarity keeps my stomach settled and my mind calm even as my skin crawls with memories of the last time I healed poison. It's concentrated in a different place this time: under and around the slender stab wound in this Kel's side where he ran into Finika's spines. This is well within my skill level. I tell the Kel's body to reject the intrusive substance, then begin to draws nets of song through his blood, herding the poison back towards the wound it came through. It might be possible to neutralize it, but I don't know Finika's kind well enough to know how. This is easier.

The Kel's breathing eases as I work. This poison didn't suffocate him like the one Sar faced, but the pain must have been intense. The Kel nearly sobs with relief as the first, biggest wave of poison drains back out of his body. I go back for a second round. The moment this one's done, the Kel shifts. I try to hold onto him—the healing song needs physical contact to work—but he pushes me off and and grabs my hands.〈 You—have to— 〉

〈 He's gone. 〉

The Kel's eyes are wild, pupils blown wide by the poisoning. He continues to grip my hands as he looks over his shoulder, to find the rocks around us empty. Finika took his leave while I was working, and if Keshko is still here somewhere, they're camouflaged. The Shalda-Kel slumps down.〈 The others—he'll go after— 〉

〈 They're safe. 〉

〈 Not safe. Karu— 〉

〈 They're with Shalda. 〉

〈 Sharks. 〉

Something hot hatches in the bottom of my stomach. It's an emotion I can't really identify; maybe I'll ask Ande about it later, but for now, I'm not letting someone else repeat my mistakes. Not one of my own people. Not in the middle of a war where we're all going to die if we don't stop trying to kill each other.

〈 Shalda, 〉I say, and my voice comes out flat.〈 They're friends. They're not going to hurt the others. 〉

The Kel stares at me. I've probably blown my cover now. He knows I'm sympathetic to the Network Shalda now: Shalda that many mid-water tribes equate with Sami because they move fast and spend time in the surface waters. Because some of them have shark tails. But for all the paralysis that gripped me just before I intervened here, I'm surprisingly okay with this. Ruka is the best ally we've found in ages, and she has a shark tail. So does Keshko. Some of my people might take issue with either of them, but I don't anymore.