Page 57 of Voice of the Ocean

“I always wanted siblings.”

Celeste looked up from her work and tilted her head, listening.

“My parents died when I was a young man.” He kept his eyes on his work. “We were staying in Port Warren at the time, when my baba passed. We moved there for me to attend school to be a doctor, like him. But we couldn’t afford for me to finish after he went.”

He finished cleaning a dish and handed it to Celeste. It felt as though she were intruding, even though he was speaking to her directly.

“My muta died soon after... so I traveled around looking for work. Not many in Ethoria would hire a Sumredan boy who hadn’t finished his schooling.”

Celeste finished drying and gently placed the plate with the others. She glanced up at Nasir’s face. He looked back at her. There was no sadness there, only a straightforward openness. This happened to him long ago. It was a part of him, but it didn’t hurt him to share it.

“I traveled around and picked up odd jobs. I was good in the kitchen. My muta taught me everything she knew. Eventually, I found my way to the Broken Compass, and that’s where I met Torben.” A private smile Celeste had seen many times pulled at the corner of his lips. A smile only for Torben.

“Most of the time, I find life doesn’t go the way you want it to,” Nasir said, his dark brown eyes creasing at the corners. “But most of the time, things turn out the way they should.”

Celeste let his words settle within her. After so many days set adrift, she wasn’t sure she’d ever find solid ground again.

Nasir turned his face back to his work. “Can you hand me the vanilla? The bottle’s sticky, and I want to clean it. It’s in the cupboard.”

She nodded and went to the cupboard, retrieving a sticky bottle. The cook took one glance at the bottle and frowned.

“That’s olive oil, dear,” he said, taking the bottle from her hands. She flushed red as he set down his things to go retrieve the vanilla himself. When he returned, he fixed her with an unreadable expression. “Do you not know how to read?”

She lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve always disliked the fact most women aren’t allowed an education.” He set the bottle down on the table. “Would you like to learn? It might make communicating easier.”

Celeste’s eyes grew wide. She could actually learn toread? Towrite? Her heart skipped a beat as she thought of how she could finally have conversations with her crewmates.

She nodded and pointed to the floor.

“You’d like to start now?”

Celeste nodded again, and he laughed.

* * *

The first writing lesson went as well as expected. Nasir sat down with Celeste in the empty dining room, the lantern above lighting the table before them. He provided two quills and parchment. Celeste couldn’t help running her hands all over them, enjoying the way the feather tickled her fingers and how soft the parchment felt. First, they went over the numbers and letters of the common language. The quill felt awkward in her hand, much the same way a fork had the first time she used one. He wrote them one at a time, and she mimicked them. But while his numbers and letters were neat and straight, hers were blotchy and crooked. Some were so awful it looked as though a squid had projected its ink onto the page.

Nasir was an encouraging, if quiet, teacher. He was straightforward and would gently correct her when she made an error. They practiced for the better part of an hour, and even tried a few simple words before they moved on to reading. But because Celeste didn’t speak, this provided a challenge.

“I know there is a language of hands, but I’m afraid I don’t know it,” Nasir confessed. “I was taught to read by sounding out the words and letters. Perhaps we’ll try association?”

And so Nasir carefully wrote out the letters and read them all aloud to Celeste so she could hear how they sounded. Then he carefully wrote out words of things that were in the room:Chairandlight,tableandbook,youandI. He slowly sounded out each word a few times, then ripped the parchment with each word and shuffled them around. Celeste picked up a word, tried to read it, and pointed to where it was in the room. The process worked well enough, and eventually she memorized what the words looked like.

The two practiced for another hour, until Celeste let out a yawn.

“Keep those and practice. We can continue tomorrow.”

She nodded, eyes drooping, and gathered the parchment, quill, and ink from the table. As she stood, she could feel her muscles protest with each movement. It had been a long time since she had felt this sore and mentally drained, but she also felt satisfied. She waved goodbye to Nasir and began her stiff journey toward her room. Each step was awkward, and she almost laughed at herself. It took her cycles to learn to understand the human language and to fight. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be on theRed Revenge, but she doubted it would be long enough for her to become proficient with the sword, reading, and writing. Still, how could she not use this opportunity for as long as she had it?

“Why are we doing this?” Bastian’s voice echoed around the corner. Something in his hushed tone made her stop.

“You know why.” Raiden’s voice was hard and pointed, like the steel of a blade. “The king asked me to retrieve it. We do this, and we’re back in his good graces.”

“But we’re leading this crew into the same waters where we were last attacked.” It sounded like an old argument, the words worn and practiced.

“What happened then will not happen again.”

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