Page 171 of The Moon's Fury
They were all seated, and Marwon held the baby in his lap, feeding her bits of mashed fish and rice. The elder daughter sat between her parents, assessing eyes darting between Layna and Zarian as she shoveled large bites of fish into her mouth.
As they ate, Layna’s nervousness slowly melted away. Marwon and Kylah were warm hosts, and despite the language barrier, she felt welcome.
Marwon, to his credit, did his best to speak the common tongue so Layna wasn’t completely in the dark, though sometimes he’d unwittingly slip back intojazirluga, and Zarian would translate. Kylah didn’t speak the common tongue at all, though she did her best to communicate with gestures and smiles.
“They’re beautiful,” Layna said to Kylah, motioning to the two girls.
Kylah smiled radiantly, a mother’s pride needing no words to understand when her children were praised.
“Zaria,” she said, pointing first to the older daughter, then to Zarian. “Marwa,” she added, gesturing to the baby girl, then Marwon.
A rush of pride, warm and right, coursed through her.
They had named their firstborn after Zarian.
He gave her a sheepish look. “I tried to talk him out of it, but listening isn’t his strong suit.” Marwon understood well enough and erupted in a loud laugh, clapping Zarian on the back.
“Your man. Modest,” he said to her, rolling his eyes dramatically, and she laughed freely.
After dinner, Kylah ushered Layna and Zarian to the sitting area and promptly deposited the baby in her lap while she and Marwon cleaned up. The baby began to fuss, watching with betrayed eyes as her mother walked away.
She patted Marwa’s back, shushed her, and tickled her, but the chubby baby grew increasingly agitated, her soft whimpers escalating into cries. Zarian had been watching with a soft smile, but he took mercy on her. He plucked Marwa from her arms and balanced her on his knee, bouncing her until she began to laugh.
Zaria seized the moment and tugged Layna’s abaya, pointing to woven dolls on the floor. Layna smiled and sat down beside her.
Kylah and Marwon returned quickly with dessert, a silky coconut pudding, topped with some sort of crushed leaves. Zarian and Marwon spoke in hushed whispers, while Layna spooned the creamy pudding into her mouth. She heardsihrrockmentioned a few times, the word sounding out of place injazirluga’slilting rhythm. Zarian met her inquisitive look with a nod, a silent promise to fill her in later, away from Zaria’s sharp ears.
After dessert, they thanked their hosts. Kylah had packed more food for them, handing a brimming basket to Zarian, along with more clothing for Layna.
Little Zaria clung to Layna’s knees, releasing her only once Zarian promised they’d return soon.
Hands intertwined, they walked home.
70
Thesquawkingofseagullspulled her from slumber. She sat up, disoriented in the bright, open room, before remembering she was in the villa. The space beside her was cold. Frowning, she peeked into the hallway—it was empty, but a delicious aroma wafted toward her.
Downstairs, she found Zarian in the kitchen, still in his sleep trousers. He turned at the sound of her footsteps. His hazel eyes raked her form, lingering on her mouth where a wide smile had bloomed.
They ate together from one plate as they often did—salted plantains, mashed breadfruit, and thickly sliced mango. Afterward, Zarian stored the leftovers away in thesihrrock-powered cold box—she didn’t know what else to call it.
“Ready?” he asked her.
She nodded, even though her anxious heart called her a liar.
The humidity clung to her skin like an unwelcome caress. It was hotter today. The island heat was different than that of the dry desert—thick, suffocating, like a wet blanket draped over her.
A bead of sweat dripped down her back, seeping into the already damp fabric of the sundress Kylah had given her. The sun beat down on them as they walked, and the ground felt warm even through her sandals. Zarian’s hands were never far from her, always finding their place on her hip or lower back or slung across her shoulders.
“Marwon said the islanders know about thesihrrock,” Zarian commented, shielding his eyes and gazing out at the beach. “It was only a matter of time—they already eyed his villa with suspicion. He hadn’t wanted to tell them, having seen firsthand the greed it can foster. But a few men found him mining it, and it forced his hand. No issues so far, though. He’s been helping incorporate it around the island.”
They followed a winding path along the coast, and when they reached a rocky outcropping, Zarian climbed up onto the stone and helped her up. They walked along the path until a small cave came into view.
The ceiling arched high above them, the smooth, gray walls spotted with moss. There was a small pool of impossibly clear water, the cavern ceiling reflected on its glittering surface. Gentle waves lapped at the walls, stretching farther into shadows.
Zarian looked at her expectantly.
“You’re wearing the swim clothing Kylah gave you?”
